On
The Morals of Chess
by Benjamin
Franklin
From The
Big Book Bunch, Benjamin Franklin's famous essay on The Game,
originally posted at that site on December 27, 1997. We at Goddesschess
wonder what the world of professional chess would be like today
if only the players would take to heart Franklin's advice on how
to conduct oneself while playing The Game...
The
game of Chess is not merely an idle amusement. Several very valuable
qualities of the mind, useful in the course of human life, are
to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to become habits,
ready on all occasions.
1.
Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, and considers the
consequences that may attend an action; for it is continually
occuring to the player, 'If I move this piece, what will be the
advantages or disadvantages of my new situation? What use can
my adversary make of it to annoy me? What other moves can I make
to support it, and to defend myself from his attacks?
2.
Circumspection, which surveys the whole chessboard, or scene of
action; the relations of the several pieces and situations, the
dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several possibilities
of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the adversary
may make this or that move, and attack this or the other piece,
and what different means can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn
its consequences against him.
3.
Caution, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit is best
acquired, by observing strictly the laws of the game; such as,
If you touch a piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set it
down, you must let it stand. And it is therefore best that these
rules should be observed, as the game becomes thereby more the
image of human life, and particularly of war . . .
And
lastly, we learn by Chess the habit of not being discouraged by present
appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for a favourable
change, and that of persevering in the search of resources. The game
is so full of events, there is such a variety of turns in it, the fortune
of it is so subject to sudden vicissitudes, and one so frequently, after
long contemplation, discovers the means of extricating one's self from
a supposed insurmountable difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue
the contest to the last, in hopes of victory from our own skill, or
at least of getting a stalemate from the negligence of our adversary
. . .
If
your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry him, or express
any uneasiness at his delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look
at your watch, not take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your
feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table, nor do anything
that may disturb his attention. For all these things displease; and
they do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or your
rudeness.
You
ought not to endeavour to amuse and deceive your adversary, by pretending
to have made bad moves, and saying that you have now lost the game,
in order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your schemes:
for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the game.
You
must not, when you have gained a victory, use any triumphing or insulting
expression, nor show too much pleasure; but endeavour to console your
adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind
of civil expression that may be used with truth, such as 'you understand
the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive;' or, 'you
play too fast;' or, 'you had the best of the game, but something happened
to divert your thoughts, and that turned it in my favour.'
If
you are a spectator while others play, observe the most perfect silence.
For, if you give advice, you offend both parties, him against whom you
give it, because it may cause the loss of his game, him in whose favour
you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows it, he loses
the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to think until
it had occurred to himself. Even after a move or moves, you must not,
by replacing the pieces, show how they might have been placed better;
for that displeases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their
true situation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts their
attention, and is therefore unpleasing.
Lastly,
if the game is not to be played rigorously, according to the rules above
mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory over your adversary,
and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage
offered by his unskilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly,
that by such a move he places or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported;
that by another he will put his king in a perilous situation, etc. By
this generous civility (so opposite to the unfairness above forbidden)
you may, indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent; but you will
win what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection, together
with the silent approbation and goodwill of impartial spectators.