answering certain given questions. A figure, dressed like a magician,
appears seated at the bottom of a wall, holding a wand in one hand,
and a book in the other A number of questions, ready prepared, are
inscribed on oval medallions, and the spectator takes any of these he
chooses and to which he wishes an answer, and having placed it in a
drawer ready to receive it, the drawer shuts with a spring till the
answer is returned. The magician then arises from his seat, bows his
head, describes circles with his wand, and consulting the book as If
in deep thought, he lifts it towards his face. Having thus appeared
to ponder over the proposed question he raises his wand, and striking
with it the wall above his head, two folding doors fly open, and
display an appropriate answer to the question. The doors again close,
the magician resumes his original position, and the drawer opens to
return the medallion. There are twenty of these medallions, all
containing different questions, to which the magician returns the
most suitable and striking answers. The medallions are thin plates of
brass, of an elliptical form, exactly resembling each other. Some of
the medallions have a question inscribed on each side, both of which
the magician answered in succession. If the drawer is shut without a
medallion being put into it, the magician rises, consults his book,
shakes his head, and resumes his seat. The folding doors remain shut,
and the drawer is returned empty. If two medallions are put into the
drawer together, an answer is returned only to the lower one. When
the machinery is wound up, the movements continue about an hour,
during which time about fifty questions may be answered. The inventor
stated that the means by which the different medallions acted upon
the machinery, so as to produce the proper answers to the questions
which they contained, were extremely simple."
The duck of Vaucanson was still more remarkable. It was _of _the size
of life, and so perfect an imitation of the living animal that all
the spectators were deceived. It executed, says Brewster, all the
natural movements and gestures, it ate and drank with avidity,
performed all the quick motions of the head and throat which are
peculiar to the duck, and like it muddled the water which it drank
with its bill. It produced also the sound of quacking in the most
natural manner. In the anatomical structure the artist exhibited the
highest skill. Every bone in the real duck had its representative In
the automaton, and its wings were anatomically exact. Every cavity,
apophysis, and curvature was imitated, and each bone executed its
proper movements. When corn was thrown down before it, the duck
stretched out its neck to pick it up, swallowed, and digested it.
{*1}
But if these machines were ingenious, what shall we think of the
calculating machine of Mr. Babbage? What shall we think of an engine
of wood and metal which can not only compute astronomical and
navigation tables to any given extent, but render the exactitude of
its operations mathematically certain through its power of correcting
its possible errors? What shall we think of a machine which can not
only accomplish all this, but actually print off its elaborate
results, when obtained, without the slightest intervention of the
intellect of man? It will, perhaps, be said, in reply, that a machine
such as we have described is altogether above comparison with the
Chess-Player of Maelzel. By no means--it is altogether beneath
it--that is to say provided we assume(what should never for a moment
be assumed) that the Chess-Player is a _pure machine, _and performs
its operations without any immediate human agency. Arithmetical or
algebraical calculations are, from their very nature, fixed and
determinate. Certain _data _being given, certain results necessarily
and inevitably follow. These results have dependence upon nothing,
and are influenced by nothing but the _data _originally given. And
the question to be solved proceeds, or should proceed, to its final
determination, by a succession of unerring steps liable to no change,
and subject to no modification. This being the case, we can without
difficulty conceive the _possibility _of so arranging a piece of
mechanism, that upon starting In accordance with the _data _of the
question to be solved, it should continue its movements regularly,
progressively, and undeviatingly towards the required solution, since
these movements, however complex, are never imagined to be otherwise
than finite and determinate. But the case is widely different with
the Chess-Player. With him there is no determinate progression. No
one move in chess necessarily follows upon any one other. From no
particular disposition of the men at one period of a game can we
predicate their disposition at a different period. Let us place the
_first move _in a game of chess, in juxta-position with the _data _of
an algebraical question, and their great difference will be
immediately perceived. From the latter--from the _data--_the second
step of the question, dependent thereupon, inevitably follows. It is
modelled by the _data. _It must be _thus _and not otherwise. But from
the first move in the game of chess no especial second move follows
of necessity. In the algebraical question, as it proceeds towards
solution, the _certainty _of its operations remains altogether
unimpaired. The second step having been a consequence of the _data,
_the third step is equally a consequence of the second, the fourth of
the third, the fifth of the fourth, and so on, _and not possibly
otherwise, _to the end. But in proportion to the progress made in a
game of chess, is the _uncertainty _of each ensuing move. A few moves
having been made, _no _step is certain. Different spectators of the
game would advise different moves. All is then dependent upon the
variable judgment of the players. Now even granting (what should not
be granted) that the movements of the Automaton Chess-Player were in
themselves determinate, they would be necessarily interrupted and
disarranged by the indeterminate will of his antagonist. There is
then no analogy whatever between the operations of the Chess-Player,
and those of the calculating machine of Mr. Babbage, and if we choose
to call the former a _pure machine _we must be prepared to admit that
it is, beyond all comparison, the most wonderful of the inventions of
mankind. Its original projector, however, Baron Kempelen, had no
scruple in declaring it to be a "very ordinary piece of mechanism--a
_bagatelle _whose effects appeared so marvellous only from the
boldness of the conception, and the fortunate choice of the methods
adopted for promoting the illusion." But it is needless to dwell upon
this point. It is quite certain that the operations of the Automaton
are regulated by _mind, _and by nothing else. Indeed this matter is
susceptible of a mathematical demonstration, _a priori. _The only
question then is of the _manner _in which human agency is brought to
/>
bear. Before entering upon this subject it would be as well to give a
brief history and description of the Chess-Player for the benefit of
such of our readers as may never have had an opportunity of
witnessing Mr. Maelzel's exhibition.
The Automaton Chess-Player was invented in 1769, by Baron Kempelen, a
nobleman of Presburg, in Hungary, who afterwards disposed of it,
together with the secret of its operations, to its present possessor.
{2*} Soon after its completion it was exhibited in Presburg, Paris,
Vienna, and other continental cities. In 1783 and 1784, it was taken
to London by Mr. Maelzel. Of late years it has visited the principal
towns in the United States. Wherever seen, the most intense curiosity
was excited by its appearance, and numerous have been the attempts,
by men of all classes, to fathom the mystery of its evolutions. The
cut on this page gives a tolerable representation of the figure as
seen by the citizens of Richmond a few weeks ago. The right arm,
however, should lie more at length upon the box, a chess-board should
appear upon it, and the cushion should not be seen while the pipe is
held. Some immaterial alterations have been made in the costume of
the player since it came into the possession of Maelzel--the plume,
for example, was not originally worn. {image of automaton}
At the hour appointed for exhibition, a curtain is withdrawn, or
folding doors are thrown open, and the machine rolled to within about
twelve feet of the nearest of the spectators, between whom and it
(the machine) a rope is stretched. A figure is seen habited as a
Turk, and seated, with its legs crossed, at a large box apparently of
maple wood, which serves it as a table. The exhibiter will, if
requested, roll the machine to any portion of the room, suffer it to
remain altogether on any designated spot, or even shift its location
repeatedly during the progress of a game. The bottom of the box is
elevated considerably above the floor by means of the castors or
brazen rollers on which it moves, a clear view of the surface
immediately beneath the Automaton being thus afforded to the
spectators. The chair on which the figure sits is affixed permanently
to the box. On the top of this latter is a chess-board, also
permanently affixed. The right arm of the Chess-Player is extended at
full length before him, at right angles with his body, and lying, in
an apparently careless position, by the side of the board. The back
of the hand is upwards. The board itself is eighteen inches square.
The left arm of the figure is bent at the elbow, and in the left hand
is a pipe. A green drapery conceals the back of the Turk, and falls
partially over the front of both shoulders. To judge from the
external appearance of the box, it is divided into five
compartments--three cupboards of equal dimensions, and two drawers
occupying that portion of the chest lying beneath the cupboards. The
foregoing observations apply to the appearance of the Automaton upon
its first introduction into the presence of the spectators.
Maelzel now informs the company that he will disclose to their view
the mechanism of the machine. Taking from his pocket a bunch of keys
he unlocks with one of them, door marked ~ in the cut above, and
throws the cupboard fully open to the inspection of all present. Its
whole interior is apparently filled with wheels, pinions, levers, and
other machinery, crowded very closely together, so that the eye can
penetrate but a little distance into the mass. Leaving this door open
to its full extent, he goes now round to the back of the box, and
raising the drapery of the figure, opens another door situated
precisely in the rear of the one first opened. Holding a lighted
candle at this door, and shifting the position of the whole machine
repeatedly at the same time, a bright light is thrown entirely
through the cupboard, which is now clearly seen to be full,
completely full, of machinery. The spectators being satisfied of this
fact, Maelzel closes the back door, locks it, takes the key from the
lock, lets fall the drapery of the figure, and comes round to the
front. The door marked I, it will be remembered, is still open. The
exhibiter now proceeds to open the drawer which lies beneath the
cupboards at the bottom of the box--for although there are apparently
two drawers, there is really only one--the two handles and two key
holes being intended merely for ornament. Having opened this drawer
to its full extent, a small cushion, and a set of chessmen, fixed in
a frame work made to support them perpendicularly, are discovered.
Leaving this drawer, as well as cupboard No. 1 open, Maelzel now
unlocks door No. 2, and door No. 3, which are discovered to be
folding doors, opening into one and the same compartment. To the
right of this compartment, however, (that is to say the spectators'
right) a small division, six inches wide, and filled with machinery,
is partitioned off. The main compartment itself (in speaking of that
portion of the box visible upon opening doors 2 and 3, we shall
always call it the main compartment) is lined with dark cloth and
contains no machinery whatever beyond two pieces of steel,
quadrant-shaped, and situated one in each of the rear top corners of
the compartment. A small protuberance about eight inches square, and
also covered with dark cloth, lies on the floor of the compartment
near the rear corner on the spectators' left hand. Leaving doors No.
2 and No. 3 open as well as the drawer, and door No. I, the exhibiter
now goes round to the back of the main compartment, and, unlocking
another door there, displays clearly all the interior of the main
compartment, by introducing a candle behind it and within it. The
whole box being thus apparently disclosed to the scrutiny of the
company, Maelzel, still leaving the doors and drawer open, rolls the
Automaton entirely round, and exposes the back of the Turk by lifting
up the drapery. A door about ten inches square is thrown open in the
loins of the figure, and a smaller one also in the left thigh. The
interior of the figure, as seen through these apertures, appears to
be crowded with machinery. In general, every spectator is now
thoroughly satisfied of having beheld and completely scrutinized, at
one and the same time, every individual portion of the Automaton, and
the idea of any person being concealed in the interior, during so
complete an exhibition of that interior, if ever entertained, is
immediately dismissed as preposterous in the extreme.
M. Maelzel, having rolled the machine back into its original
Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe Page 140