Chapter VIII: Problems 201 (1)

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE
Sato Tadanobu, a Samurai of the Twelfth Century,
defending himself with a “goban,” when attacked
by his enemies Frontispiece
Playing Go 22

I

HISTORY OF THE GAME

The game of Go is probably the oldest of all known games. It was played by the Chinese from earliest antiquity, and has been played in its present form by the Japanese for over eleven centuries, but while the game originated in China, the Japanese have far surpassed the Chinese in skill at the game, and it has come to be regarded in Japan as their national game.

In the old Chinese works three persons are named as the originators of the game, but in Japan its invention is commonly attributed to only one of these. This man is the Chinese emperor Shun, who reigned from 2255 to 2206 B.C. It is said that this emperor invented the game in order to strengthen the weak mind of his son Shang Kiun. By others the invention of the game is attributed to the predecessor of Shun, the emperor Yao, who reigned from 2357 to 2256 B.C. If this theory is correct it would make the game about forty-two hundred years old. The third theory is that Wu, a vassal of the Chinese emperor Kieh Kwei (1818–1767 B.C.) invented the game of Go. To the same man is often attributed the invention of games of cards. It would seem that this last theory is the most credible, because it would make the invention more recent, and because the inventor is said to have been a vassal and not an emperor.

Whatever may be the truth in regard to the origin of the game, it is perfectly certain that Go was already known in China in early antiquity. In old Chinese works, of which the oldest is dated about a thousand years before Christ, a game which can be easily recognized as Go is mentioned casually, so that at that time it must have been well known.

We are told also that in China somewhere about 200 B.C., poetry and Go went hand in hand, and were in high favor, and a poet, Bayu, who lived about the year 240 A.D., made himself famous through poems in which he sang the praises of the game.

It is remarkable that in the old books it is stated that in the year 300 A.D. a man by the name of Osan was so skilled in Go that he could take all the stones from the board after the game had been finished and then play it over from memory. This is of interest also as showing that in the course of time playing the game has had the effect of strengthening the memory of Go players, because there are now hundreds of players in Japan who can replace a game move for move after it has been disarranged. It is in fact the customary thing for a teacher of the game to play the game over in that way in order to criticise the moves made by the student.

Anecdotes have come down to us from the old Chinese times in regard to the game, of which we will mention only one, which shows how highly it was esteemed.

Sha An, a man who lived in the time of the Tsin Dynasty (265–419 A.D.), carried on a war with his nephew Sha Gen. Growing tired of taking life, they left the victory to be decided by a game of Go, which they played against each other.

The esteem in which players were held in the old Chinese times is also shown by the titles with which they were honored; to wit, “Kisei” or “Ki Shing,” from “Ki,” meaning Go, and “Sei,” a holy man, and “Shing,” magician or sage.

In the time of the Tang Dynasty (618–906 A.D.), and again during the Sung Dynasty (960–1126 A.D.), the first books about Go were written. The game then flourished in China, and there were then many distinguished players in that country.

According to the Japanese reckoning of time, Go was introduced into Japan in the period Tem pyo, during the reign of the emperor Shomu, which according to the Chinese records was the thirteenth year of the period Tien Tao, and during the reign of the emperor Huan Tsung. According to our calendar this would be about the year 735 A.D.

A man otherwise well known in the history of Japan, Kibi Daijin, was sent as an envoy to China in that year, and it is said that he brought the game back with him to Japan.

Go may have been known in Japan before that date, but at any rate it must have been known about this time, for in the seventh month of the tenth year of the period Tem pyo (A.D. 738), we are told that a Japanese nobleman named Kumoshi was playing Go with another nobleman named Adzumabito, and that in a quarrel resulting from the game Kumoshi killed Adzumabito with his sword.

On its introduction into Japan a new era opened in the development of the game, but at first it spread very slowly, and it is mentioned a hundred years later that the number of Go players among the nobility (and to them the knowledge of the game was entirely confined) was very small indeed.

In the period called Kasho (848–851 A.D.), and in Nin Ju (851–854 A.D.), a Japanese prince dwelt in China, and was there taught the game by the best player in China. The following anecdote is told in regard to this prince: that in order to do him honor the Chinese allowed him to meet the best players, and in order to cope with them he hit upon the idea of placing his stones exactly in the same way as those of his opponent; that is to say, when his opponent placed a stone at any point, he would place his stone on a point symmetrically opposite, and in that way he is said to have won. In regard to this anecdote it may be said that the Chinese must have been very weak players, or they would speedily have found means of overcoming this method of defense.

We next hear that in the year 850 a Japanese named Wakino became famous as a great devotee of the game. He played continuously day and night, and became so engrossed in the game that he forgot everything else absolutely.

In the next two centuries the knowledge of the game did not extend beyond the court at Kioto. Indeed, it appears that it was forbidden to play Go anywhere else than at court. At all events we are told that in the period called Otoku (1084–1087 A.D.) the Prince of Dewa, whose name was Kiowara no Mahira, secretly introduced the game into the province of Oshu, and played there with his vassals. From that time not only the number of the nobility who played the game increased rapidly, but the common people as well began to take it up.

Our frontispiece illustrates an incident which is said to have occurred about this time in the city of Kamakura. A samurai named Sato Tadanobu, who was a vassal of Yoshitsune, a brother of Yoritomo, the first Shogun of Japan, was playing Go in his house when he was suddenly attacked by his enemies, and he is depicted using the “Goban” as a weapon wherewith to defend himself. The print is by Kuniyoshi, and is one of a series the title of which might be translated as “Our Favorite Hero Series.” The “Go ban,” “Go ishi,” and “Go tsubo” look precisely like those which are at present in use, but Kuniyoshi probably represented the type in use in his day and not in the time of Yoritomo, as it is pretty well settled that in the early times the board was smaller.

There is also a story which comes down from the Kamakura period in regard to Hojo Yoshitoki. He is said to have been playing Go with a guest at the moment that news arrived of the uprising of Wada Yoshimori. Yoshitoki is said to have first finished the game in perfect calmness before he thought of his measures for subduing the revolution. This was in the first year of Kempo, or 1213 A.D.

In the beginning of the thirteenth century we find that Go was widely known in the samurai class, and was played with zeal. At that time everybody who went to war, from the most famous general down to the meanest soldier, played the game. The board and stones were carried with them to the field of battle, and as soon as the battle was over, they were brought out, and the friendly strife began. Many of the monks and poets of that period also had a taste for Go, and several of them are mentioned as celebrated Go players.

All three of the great Japanese generals, Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Iyeyasu, were devotees of the game. It is related that Nobunaga came to Kioto in the tenth year of Ten Sho, 1582 A.D., and lived in the Honnoji Temple. One night the celebrated Go player, Sansha, of whom more hereafter, came and played with him until midnight. Sansha had scarcely taken his departure when the uprising of Akechi Mitsuhide broke out.

In the periods Genki (1570–1572), Ten Sho (1573–1591) until Keicho (1596–1614), and Gen Wa (1615–1623), there were many celebrated players among the monks, poets, farmers and tradespeople. They were called to the courts of the daimios and to the halls of the nobles, either in order that the nobility might play with them, or more frequently merely to exhibit their skill at the game. This custom existed up to the time of the fall of the Shogunate.

That the Japanese could find pleasure in merely watching a game that is so abstract in its nature and so difficult to understand is evidence of the fact that they were then a highly cultivated people intellectually. We find nothing like it in this country except in the narrowest Chess circles.

In the beginning of the seventeenth century Go attained such a high development that there appeared a series of expert players who far surpassed anything known before. Of these the most famous were Honinbo Sansha Hoin, Nakamura Doseki, Hayashi Rigen, Inouye Inseki, and Yasui Santetsu.

Sansha was the son of a merchant of Kioto. When he was nine years old he shaved his head, named himself Nikkai, and became a Buddhist monk in the Temple of Shokokuji, which was one of the principal temples of the Nichi Ren sect in Kioto. From his early life Sansha was very skilful at the game, and upon giving up his profession as a monk, he obtained permission to institute a school of Go players, and he then took the name of Honinbo Sansha. He was on terms of familiar intercourse with Nobunaga, Hideyoshi and Iyeyasu, often accompanied them on their travels and campaigns, and was present at many of the battles of that troublous epoch.

The school of Go which Honinbo opened, however, was merely a private undertaking. The first State institution in which Go was taught was founded by Hideyoshi in the period Ten Sho (1573–1591), but it seems to have had a short existence, and the permanent institution which lasted until the fall of the Shogunate was founded by the successor of Hideyoshi, Iyeyasu. Iyeyasu became Shogun in the year 1603, and the foundation of the Go Academy or “Go In,” as the Japanese call it, must have occurred soon after he ascended the throne. Honinbo Sansha, who was still the best Go player in Japan, was named as the head of the institution. The other most skilful masters were installed as professors with good salaries. To Honinbo Sansha, the director, was given 350 tsubo of land (a tsubo is as big as two Japanese mats or tatami, and is therefore six feet square), and an annual revenue of 200 koku of rice (a koku is a little more than five bushels). Men of the best intelligence could now dedicate themselves to the education of students and the further development of the game, freed from the cares of earning a livelihood. In both respects the institute was eminently successful. Its graduates were much more skilful than the previous generation of Go players living in the land. They devoted themselves entirely to the game, and either found positions as players at the court of a daimio, or traveled through the country (like the poets and swordsmen of that period), playing the game and giving instruction in its mysteries as they found opportunity. If they came to a place which pleased them, they often let their years of wandering come to an end and remained there, making their living as teachers of the game.

At the time of the founding of the Academy, besides Honinbo, the previously mentioned masters, Hayashi, Inouye, and Yasui, were installed as professors. For some reason, Nakamura, who is mentioned above as one of the contemporaries of Honinbo, did not appear at the Academy. Each of the four masters above named founded his school or method of play independently of the others, and the custom existed that each teacher adopted his best pupil as a son, and thus had a successor at his death; so the teachers in the Academy were always named Honinbo, Inouye, Hayashi, and Yasui. (Lovers of Japanese prints are already familiar with this continued similarity of names.)

The best players of the Academy had to appear every year before the Shogun and play for his amusement. This ceremony was called “Go zen Go,” which means “playing the game in the august presence,” or “O shiro Go,” “Shiro” meaning “the honorable palace,” and the masters of the game entered these contests with the same determination that was displayed by the samurai on the field of battle.

An anecdote has come down to us from the reign of the third Shogun, Tokugawa Iyemitsu, showing how highly the Go masters regarded their art. At that time Yasui Sanchi was “Meijin,” which, as we shall see in a moment, meant the highest rank in the Go world, while Honinbo Sanyetsu held the rank of “Jo zu,” which was almost as high, but which, according to the rules, would entitle him to a handicap of one stone from his expert adversary; and these two men, being the best players, were selected to play in the Shogun’s presence. Honinbo, feeling conscious of his skill, disdained to accept the handicap, and met his adversary on even terms. The game was proceeding in the presence of the court nobles before the Shogun had appeared, and among the spectators was Matsudaira Higo no Kami, one of the most powerful noblemen of that epoch. Yasui Sanchi was a favorite of Matsudaira and as he watched the play he remarked audibly that Honinbo would surely be defeated. Honinbo Sanyetsu heard the remark, and pausing in his play, he allowed the stone which he was about to place on the board to fall back into the “Go tsubo” or wooden jar that holds the Go stones, gently covered the “Go tsubo,” and drawing himself up with great dignity, said: “I am serving the Shogun with the art of Go, and when we Go masters enter a contest, it is in the same spirit as warriors go upon the field of battle, staking our life, if necessary, to decide the contest. While we are doing this we do not allow interference or comments from any one, no matter how high may be his rank. Although I am not the greatest master of the game, I hold the degree of ‘Jo zu,’ and, therefore, there are few players in Japan who are able to appreciate my plans, tactics, or strategy. Nevertheless, the Prince of Higo has unwarrantedly prophesied my defeat. I do not understand why he has done this, but if such a comment were allowed to become a precedent, and onlookers were permitted to make whatever comments on the game they saw fit, it would be better that the custom of the ‘O shiro Go’ should cease.” Having said this, he raised himself from his seat. At this moment the court officers announced the coming of the Shogun, and the noblemen who had assembled to see the contest, surprised and confused by the turn affairs had taken, earnestly persuaded Honinbo to reseat himself and continue the game. This he obstinately refused to do, and endeavored to leave the imperial chamber. Prince Matsudaira, taken aback, scarcely knew what to do. However, he kotowed to Honinbo and, profusely apologizing, besought the offended master to finish the contest. Honinbo Sanyetsu was appeased, and resumed his seat at the board, and both players, aroused by the incident, exerted every effort to achieve victory. Honinbo Sanyetsu won, whereupon the Prince of Higo was greatly humiliated. Since then the name of Sanyetsu has always been revered as one of the greatest of the Honinbo family.

In the degenerate days toward the end of the Tokugawa Dynasty the “Go zen Go” became a mere farce, and the games were all played through and studied out beforehand, in order that the ceremony in court might not last too long. The custom was, however, maintained until the fall of the Shogunate in 1868.

Honinbo Sansha established at the time of the foundation of the Academy a method of classifying the players by giving them degrees, which still exists, although no longer under the authority of the State. When a man attained to a certain measure of skill in the game he received the title “Shodan,” or, of the first degree. The still stronger players were arranged as “Nidan,” “Sandan,” “Yodan,” etc., or of the second, third, and fourth degrees. The highest degree in the series was “Kudan,” or the ninth degree. In order to attain the first degree, or “Shodan,” the candidate must be an excellent player, so good in fact that he could follow the game as a profession. In other games such a graduated system of classifying players would be scarcely possible, but among good Go players it is feasible, because the better player almost invariably wins, even if he be but slightly superior. If the difference in skill could not be equalized in some way the game would become tiresome, as the weaker player would almost always be able to foresee his defeat. The stronger player, therefore, allows his adversary to place enough stones on the board as a handicap to make the adversaries approximately equal.

According to the rules of the Academy, if the difference between the skill of the players was only one degree, the weaker player would be allowed the first move. If the difference was two degrees, the weaker player would be allowed to place a stone on the board, and the stronger player would have the first move, and so on; in other words, the difference between each degree might be called half a stone. Thus, a player of the fourth degree would allow a player of the first degree to place two stones on the board as a handicap, but would have the first move. A player of the seventh degree would allow a player of the first degree three stones, and a player of the ninth degree would allow a player of the first degree four stones. Four was the highest handicap allowed among the players holding degrees, but, as we shall see later, among players of less skill greater handicaps are frequently given.

A player of the seventh degree also received the honorary title “Jo zu,” or the higher hand. Those of the eighth rank were called “Kan shu,” or the half-way step, and those of the ninth degree were called “Mei shu,” the clear, bright hand, or “Mei jin,” literally “celebrated man.” It is related that this last appellation arose in the time of Nobunaga, who was a spectator of a game played by Honinbo Sansha with some contemporary, and who expressed his admiration of the skill of Honinbo by exclaiming “Mei jin!” which thus became the title applied to players of the highest skill.

Since the institution of this method of classifying Go players over three hundred years ago, there have been only nine players who have attained the ninth degree, and only fourteen players who have attained the eighth degree. On the other hand, there have been many more of the seventh, and many more still of each of the lower degrees. In 1880, at the time Korschelt wrote the article previously referred to, there was only one player in Japan holding the seventh degree, and that was the celebrated Murase Shuho. At present there is one player who holds the ninth degree. His name is Honinbo Shuyei, and he is the only player who has attained the ninth degree during the period called the “Meiji,” or since the fall of the Shogunate forty years ago.

This arrangement of the players in degrees is unknown in China and Korea. On the other hand, it is in use in the Ryukyu or Loochoo Islands.

The Japanese seem to have regarded the classification in degrees as an absolute standard of measurement. Nevertheless, it must necessarily have varied from time to time, and in the course of centuries the standard must gradually have risen.

Players of high rank who are challenged by the improving players of the lower grades will instinctively desire to make it more difficult for the new players to attain the higher degree, because their own fame, which is their highest possession, depends upon the result of the game; and assuming that all trial games could be conducted in an impartial and judicial spirit, nevertheless, all the players would become more expert from the hard practice, even if their skill in relation to each other remained the same.

Thus a seventh degree player of to-day would be better in a year although he still remained in the seventh degree, and this constant raising of the standard must lead us to suppose that a player of the seventh degree now is quite equal or perhaps superior to an eighth or ninth degree player of a hundred or two hundred years ago. As an illustration of this increase in skill, we only have to compare the standard set in the Ryukyu Islands. They also established the classification in degrees soon after the foundation of the Academy in Japan, and then the two institutions seem to have lost touch. Korschelt relates that for the first time about the year 1880 a Go player of the second degree from the Satsuma province visited those Islands and tried his skill with their best players, and found that he could easily defeat the players there classified as of the fifth degree.

The position as head of the Academy was much coveted by Go players, but it was generally held by the Honinbo family. One of the last incidents in relation to the Academy tells of an attempt on the part of Inouye Inseki, the eleventh of that line, to obtain the headship of the Academy when Honinbo Jowa, who was the twelfth Honinbo, retired. Inseki was afraid he could not obtain the coveted position by a contest, and therefore strove to obtain it by intrigue from the Shogun’s officer intrusted with the business of the Academy. When Jowa retired he was not unaware of the desires of Inseki, but it did not trouble him much, as he felt confident that the fourteenth Honinbo, whose name was Shuwa, could successfully defend his title. However, at last matters came to such a point that Jowa ordered Shuwa to present a petition to the Shogun requesting that the title be settled by contest, but the Shogun’s officer, who was in league with Inseki, returned the petition, whereupon all of the Honinbo house rose and insisted on their rights in accordance with custom and precedent, and at last their petition was granted. It was fixed that the title was to be decided by ten games, and the first game began at the residence of the Shogun’s officer, Inaba Tango no Kami, on the 29th of November, in the eleventh year of Tempo (about sixty-six years ago), and it ended the same year on the 13th of December. There was an adjournment of four days, and on one occasion the contest lasted all night. Therefore in all it took nine days and one night to finish the game.

It is unnecessary to say that both players put forth all their efforts in this life and death struggle, and it is said that Inseki’s excitement was so intense as to cause blood to gush from his mouth, but he finally lost by four stones, and the other nine games were not played. Inseki, however, mortified by his defeat, again challenged Shuwa. This game began on the 16th of May in the thirteenth year of Tempo, and lasted two days. Inseki again lost by six stones. On November 17th of the same year a third contest took place between Shuwa and Inseki in the presence of the Shogun in his palace at Tokio. Inseki again lost by four stones. In all these contests Inseki as the challenger had the first move, and he finally became convinced of his inability to win from the scion of the Honinbo family, and abandoned his life-long desire, and it is related that thereupon the houses of Honinbo and Inouye became more friendly than ever.

In the first half of the nineteenth century Go had a period of great development. This occurred according to the Japanese calendar in the periods called Bun Kwa (1804–1818), Bun Sei (1818–1829), and Tempo (1830–1844). The collection of specimen games of that time are to-day regarded as models, and the methods of play and of opening the game then in use are still studied, although they have been somewhat superseded. The best games were played by the Honinbos Dosaku and Jowa and Yasui Sanchi.

On the fall of the Shogunate in the year 1868 the Go Academy came to an end, and with it the regulation of the game by the State. A few years later the daimios were dispossessed, and they did not feel an obligation as private individuals to retain the services of the Go players who had been in attendance at their courts. Thereupon ensued a sad time for the masters of the game, who had theretofore for the most part lived by the practice of their art, and to make things still worse, the Japanese people lost their interest in Go. Upon the opening of the country the people turned with enthusiasm to the foreigners. Foreign things were more prized than native things, and among the things of native origin the game of Go was neglected.

About the year 1880, however, a reaction set in; interest in the old national game was revived, and at the present day it is fostered with as much zeal as in the olden times.

Most of the higher officials of the government, and also the officers in the army and navy, are skilled players. The great daily newspapers of the capitals have a Go department, just as some of our periodicals have a department devoted to Chess, and the game is very much played at the hot springs and health resorts, and clubs, and teachers of the art are found in all of the larger cities. Go has always retained something of its early aristocratic character, and in fact, it is still regarded as necessary for a man of refinement to possess a certain skill at the game.

During the recent Russo-Japanese War the strategy employed by the Japanese commanders certainly suggested the methods of play used in the game of Go. Whether this was an accidental resemblance or not I cannot say. At Liao Yang it seemed as if Marshal Oyama had got three of the necessary stones advantageously placed, but the Russians escaped before the fourth could be moved into position. At the final battle of Mukden the enveloping strategy characteristic of the game was carried out with still greater success.

At the present time the division into the four schools of Honinbo, Inouye, Hayashi, and Yasui, no longer exists, and Go players are divided into the schools of Honinbo and Hoyensha. This latter school was established about the year 1880 by Murase Shuho, to whom reference has already been made.

The Honinbo school is the successor of the old Academy, while the new school has made one or two innovations, one of the most fortunate being a rule that no game shall last longer than twenty-four hours without interruption. The Hoyensha school also recognized the degree “Inaka Shodan,” which means the “first degree in the country,” and is allowed to a class of players who are regarded as entitled to the first degree in their native town, but who are generally undeceived when they meet the recognized “Shodan” players of the metropolis.

While in Japan Go has attained such a high development, largely through the help of the government, as has been shown, it seems to be decadent in its motherland of China. The Japanese players assure us that there is no player in China equal to a Japanese player of the first degree. In Korea also the game is played, but the skill there attained is also immensely below the Japanese standard.

Having now given an idea of the importance of the game in the eyes of the Japanese, and the length of time it has been played, we will proceed to a description of the board and stones, and then take up the details of the play.

II

DESCRIPTION OF THE BOARD AND STONES

The board, or “Go Ban” as it is called in Japanese, is a solid block of wood, about seventeen and a half inches long, sixteen inches broad, and generally about four or five inches thick. It has four detachable feet or legs so that as it stands on the floor it is about eight inches high. The board and feet are always stained yellow.

The best boards in Japan are made of a wood called “Kaya” (Torreya Nucifera) a species of yew. They are also made of a wood called “Icho” or Gingko (Salisburia adiantifolia) and of “Hinoki” (Thuya Obtusa) a kind of cedar. At all events they must be of hard wood, and yet not so hard as to be unpleasant to the touch when the stone is placed on the board, and the wood must further have the quality of resonance, because the Japanese enjoy hearing the sound made by the stone as it is played, and they always place it on the board with considerable force when space will permit. The Japanese expression for playing Go, to wit, “Go wo utsu,” literally means to “strike” Go, referring to the impact of the stone. In Korea this feature is carried to such an extreme that wires are stretched beneath the board, so that as a stone is played a distinct musical sound is produced. The best boards should, of course, be free from knots, and the grain should run diagonally across them.

In the back of the board there is cut a square depression. The purpose of this is probably to make the block more resonant, although the old Japanese stories say that this depression was put there originally to receive the blood of the vanquished in case the excitement of the game led to a sanguinary conflict.

The legs of the board are said to be shaped to resemble the fruit of the plant called “Kuchinashi” or Cape Jessamine (Gardenia floribunda), the name of which plant by accident also means “without a mouth,” and this is supposed to suggest to onlookers that they refrain from making comments on the game (a suggestion which all Chess players will appreciate).

On the board, parallel with each edge, are nineteen thin, lacquered black lines. These lines are about four one-hundredths of an inch wide. It has been seen from the dimensions given that the board is not exactly square, and the field therefore is a “parallelogram, the sides of which are sixteen and a half and fifteen inches long respectively, and the lines in one direction are a little bit farther apart than in the other. These lines, by their crossing, produce three hundred and sixty-one points of intersection, including the corners and the points along the edge of the field.

The stones are placed on these points of intersection, and not in the spaces as the pieces are in Chess or Checkers. These intersections are called “Me” or “Moku” in Japanese, which really means “an eye.” Inasmuch as the word as used in this connection is untranslatable, I shall hereafter refer to these points of intersection by their Japanese name.

On the board, as shown in the diagram (Plate 1), are nine little circles. It is on these circles that the handicap stones when given are placed. They have no other function in the game, but they are supposed also to have some sort of symbolical meaning. Chamberlain states that these spots or “Seimoku” are supposed to represent the chief celestial bodies, and that the central one is called “Taikyoku”; that is, the primordial principle of the universe. In the work of Stewart Culin referred to in the preface it is stated that they correspond to the nine lights of heaven—the sun, moon and the seven stars of the constellation “Tau” (Ursa Major). Indeed the whole arrangement of the board is said to have some symbolical significance, the number of crosses (exclusive of the central one) representing the three hundred and sixty degrees of latitude, and the number of white and black stones corresponding to the number of days of the year; but nowadays the Japanese do not make much of a point of the astronomical significance of the board or of the “Seimoku.”

The stones or “Ishi” with which the game is played are three hundred and sixty-one in number, corresponding to the number of “Me” or points of intersection on the board. One hundred and eighty of these stones are white and the remaining one hundred and eighty-one are black. As the weaker player has the black stones and the first move, obviously the extra stone must be black. In practice the entire number of stones is never used, as at the end of the game there are always vacant spaces on the board. The Japanese generally keep these stones in gracefully shaped, lacquered boxes or “Go tsubo.”

The white stones are made of a kind of white shell; they are highly polished, and are exceedingly pleasant to the touch. The best come from the provinces of Hitachi and Mikawa. The black are made of stone, generally a kind of slate that comes from the Nachi cataract in Kishiu. As they are used they become almost jet-black, and they are also pleasant to the touch, but not so much so as the white. A good set is quite dear, and cannot be purchased under several yen. The ideograph formerly used for “Go ishi” indicates that originally they were made of wood, and not of stone, and the old Chinese ideograph shows that in that country they were wooden pieces painted black and white. The use of polished shell for the white stones was first introduced in the Ashikaga period.

In form the stones are disk-shaped, but not always exactly round, and are convex on both surfaces, so that they tremble slightly when placed on the board. They are about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, and about one-eighth of an inch in thickness. The white stones are generally a trifle larger than the black ones; for some strange reason those of both colors are a little bit wider than they should be in order to fit the board. Korschelt carefully measured the stones which he used, and found that the black were seventeen-sixteenths of the distance between the vertical lines on his board, and about eighteen-nineteenths of the distance between the horizontal lines, while the white stones were thirteen-twelfths of the distance between the vertical lines and thirty-six thirty-sevenths of the distance between the horizontal lines. I found about the same relation of size in the board and stones which I use.

The result of this is that the stones do not have quite room enough and lap over each other, and when the board is very full, they push each other out of place. To make matters still worse the Japanese are not very careful to put the stones exactly on the points of intersection, but place them carelessly, so that the board has an irregular appearance. It is probable that the unsymmetrical shape of the board and the irregularity of the size of the stones arise from the antipathy that the Japanese have to exact symmetry. At any rate, it is all calculated to break up the monotonous appearance which the board would have if the spaces were exactly square, and the stones were exactly round and fitted properly in their places.

In Japan the board is placed on the floor, and the players sit on the floor also, facing each other, as shown in the illustration, and generally the narrower side of the board is placed so as to face the players. Since the introduction of tables in Japan Go boards are also made thinner and without feet, but the game seems to lose some of its charm when the customs of the old Japan are departed from.

The Japanese always take the stone between the middle and index fingers, and not between the thumb and index finger as we are likely to do, and they place it on the board smartly and with great skill, so that it gives a cheerful sound, as before stated.

For use in this country the board need not be so thick, and need not, of course, have feet, but if it is attempted to play the game on cardboard, which has a dead sound as the stones are played, it is surprising how much the pleasure of the game is diminished. The author has found that Casino chips are the best substitute for the Japanese stones.

Originally the board used for the game of Go was not so large, and the intersecting lines in each direction were only seventeen in number. At the time of the foundation of the Go Academy this was the size of board in use. As the game developed the present number of lines became fixed after trial and comparison with other possible sizes. Korschelt made certain experiments with the next possible larger size in which the number of lines in each direction was twenty-one, and it seemed that the game could still be played, although it made necessary the intellect of a past master to grasp the resulting combinations. If more than twenty-one lines are used Korschelt states that the combinations are beyond the reach of the human mind.

In closing the description of the board it may be interesting to point out that the game which we call “Go Bang” or “Five in a Row,” is played on what is really a Japanese Go board, and the word “Go Bang” is merely another phonetic imitation of the words by which the Japanese designate their board. I have found, however, that the “Go Bang” boards sold in the stores in this country are an imitation of the original Japanese “Go ban,” and have only seventeen lines, and are therefore a little too small for the game as now played. The game which we call “Go Bang” also originated in Japan, and is well known and still played there. They call it “Go Moku Narabe,” which means to arrange five “Me,” the word “Go” in this case meaning “five,” and “Moku” being the alternative way of pronouncing the ideograph for eye. “Go Moku Narabe” is often played by good Go players, generally for relaxation, as it is a vastly simpler game than Go, and can be finished much more rapidly. It is not, however, to be despised, as when played by good players there is considerable chance for analysis, and the play often covers the entire board.

III

RULES OF PLAY

The players play alternately, and the weaker player has the black stones and plays first, unless a handicap has been given, in which case the player using the white stones has the first move. (In the olden times this was just reversed.) They place the stones on the vacant points of intersection on the board, or “Me,” and they may place them wherever they please, with the single exception of the case called “Ko,” which will be hereafter explained. When the stones are once played they are never moved again.

The object of the game of Go is to secure territory. Just as the object of the game of Chess is not to capture pieces, but to checkmate the adverse King, so in Go the ultimate object is not to capture the adversary’s stones, but to so arrange matters that at the end of the game a player’s stones will surround as much vacant space as possible. At the end of the game, however, before the amount of vacant space is calculated, the stones that have been taken are used to fill up the vacant spaces claimed by the adversary; that is to say, the captured black stones are used to fill up the spaces surrounded by the player having the white pieces, and vice versa, and the player who has the greatest amount of territory after the captured stones are used in this way, is the winner of the game. However, if the players, fearing each other, merely fence in parts of the board without regard to each other’s play, a most uninteresting game results, and the Japanese call this by the contemptuous epithet “Ji dori go,” or “ground taking Go.” I have noticed that beginners in this country sometimes start to play in this way, and it is one of the many ways by which the play of a mere novice may be recognized. The best games arise when the players in their efforts to secure territory attack each other’s stones or groups of stones, and we therefore must know how a stone can be taken.

A stone is taken when it is surrounded on four opposite sides as shown in Plate 2, Diagram I. When it is taken it is removed from the board. It is not necessary that a stone should also be surrounded diagonally, which would make eight stones necessary in order to take one; neither do four stones placed on the adjacent diagonal intersections cause a stone to be taken: they do not directly attack the stone in the center at all. Plate 2, Diagram IV, shows this situation.

A stone which is placed on the edge of the board may be surrounded and captured by three stones, as shown in Plate 2, Diagram II, and if a stone is placed in the extreme corner of the board, it may be surrounded and taken by two stones, as shown in Plate 2, Diagram III.

In actual practice it seldom or never happens that a stone or group of stones is surrounded by the minimum number requisite under the rule, for in that case the player whose stones were threatened could generally manage to break through his adversary’s line. It is almost always necessary to add helping stones to those that are strictly necessary in completing the capture. Plate 2, Diagram V, shows four stones which are surrounded with the minimum number of stones. Plate 2, Diagram VI, shows the same group with a couple of helping stones added, which would probably be found necessary in actual play.

It follows from this rule that stones which are on the same line parallel with the edges of the board are connected, and support each other, Plate 2, Diagram VII, while stones which are on the same diagonal line are not connected, and do not support each other, Plate 2, Diagram VIII. In order to surround stones which are on the same line, and therefore connected, it is necessary to surround them all in order to take them, while stones which are arranged on a diagonal line, and therefore unconnected, may be taken one at a time. On Plate 2, Diagram III, if there were a stone placed at S 18, it would not be connected with the stone in the corner, and would not help it in any way. On the other hand, as has been said, it is not necessary to place a white stone on that point in order to complete the capture of the stone in the corner.

In order to capture a group or chain of stones containing vacant space, it must be completely surrounded inside and out; for instance, the black group shown on Plate 2, Diagram IX, while it has no hope of life if it is White’s play is nevertheless not completely surrounded. In order to surround it, it is necessary to play on the three vacant intersections at M 11, N 11, and O 11. The same group of stones is shown in Diagram X completely surrounded. (It may be said in passing that White must play at N 11 first or the black stones can defend themselves; we shall understand this better in a moment.)

In practice it often happens that a stone or group of stones is regarded as dead before it is completely surrounded, because when the situation is observed to be hopeless the losing player abandons it, and addresses his energies to some other part of the board. It is advantageous for the losing player to abandon such a group as soon as possible, for, if he continues to add to the group, he loses not only the territory but the added stones also. If the circumstances are such that his opponent has to reply to his moves in the hopeless territory, the loss is not so great, as the opponent is meanwhile filling up spaces which would otherwise be vacant, and against an inferior player there is a chance of the adversary making a slip and allowing the threatened stones to save themselves. If, however, the situation is so clearly hopeless that the adversary is not replying move for move, then every stone added to such a group means a loss of two points.

At the end of the game such abandoned groups of stones are removed from the board just as if they had been completely surrounded and killed, and it is not necessary for the player having the advantage actually to surround and kill such a group. It is enough if they obviously can be killed. The theory on which this rule proceeds is that if the players play alternately, no advantage would be gained by either side in the process of actually surrounding such a group, and its completion would only be a waste of time. But let us suppose that a black group at the end of the game is found to be hopeless and also completely surrounded with the exception of one point. The question arises, can the Black player demand that his adversary play on the vacant space in order to kill this group, for, if he could, it is obvious he would gain one “Me” by so doing. The answer is, he cannot so demand, and his adversary is not bound to play on this point, and the hopeless or abandoned stones are removed without further play. We might call such groups “dead.” They may be distinguished from stones that are “taken,” because these latter are removed at once, whereas “dead” stones are removed only at the end of the game.

As a corollary to the rule for surrounding and taking stones, it follows that a group of stones containing two disconnected vacant intersections or “Me” cannot be taken. This is not a separate rule. It follows necessarily from the method by which stones are taken. Nevertheless in practice it is the most important principle in the game.

In order to understand the rule or principle of the two “Me,” we must first look at the situation shown in Plate 3, Diagram I. There, if a black stone is played at F 15, although it is played on an intersection entirely surrounded by white stones, it nevertheless lives because the moment it is played it has the effect of killing the entire white group; that is to say, a stone may be played on an intersection where it is completely surrounded if as it is played it has the effect of completely surrounding the adversary’s stones already on the board. If, on the other hand, we have a situation as shown in Plate 3, Diagram II, a black stone may indeed be played on one of the vacant intersections, but when it is so played the white group is not completely surrounded, because there still remains one space yet to be filled, and the black stone itself is dead as soon as it touches the board, and hence it would be impossible to surround this group of white stones unless two stones were played at once. The white stones, therefore, can never be surrounded, and form an impregnable position.

This is the principle of the two “Me,” and when a player’s group of stones is hard pressed, and his adversary is trying to surround them, if he can so place the stones that two disconnected complete “Me” are left, they are safe forever. It makes no difference whether the vacant “Me” are on the edges or in the corners of the board, or how far from each other they may be.

Plate 3, Diagram VI, shows a group of stones containing two vacant “Me” on the edge of the board. This group is perfectly safe against attack. A beginner might ask why the white group shown on Plate 3, Diagram V, is not safe. The difficulty with that group is, that when Black has played at S 9, there are no “Me” in it at all as the word is used in this connection, not even a “Kageme” as shown in Plate 3, Diagram III, because a “Me,” in order to be available for the purpose of defense, must be a vacant intersection that is surrounded on four sides, just as a captured stone must be surrounded, and therefore on the sides of the board it can be made by three stones, and in the corner of the board by two stones, but it is absolutely necessary, in addition to the minimum number of surrounding stones, to have helping stones to guard the surrounding stones against attack. This brings us to what the Japanese call “Kageme.”

In actual play there are many groups of stones that at first glance seem to have two vacant “Me” in them, but which on analysis, will be found vulnerable to attack. A “Me” that looks somewhat as if it were complete, but is, nevertheless, destructible is called “Kageme.” “Kage” means “chipped” or “incomplete.” Plate 3, Diagram III, is an illustration of this. A beginner might think that the white group was safe, but Black can kill the upper six white stones by playing at E 3, and then on the next move can kill the remainder by playing at G 2. Therefore, E 3 is not a perfect “Me,” but is “Kageme.” G 2 is a perfect “Me,” but one is not enough to save the group. In this group if the stone at F 4 or D 2 were white, there would be two perfect “Me,” and the group would be safe. In a close game beginners often find it difficult to distinguish between a perfect “Me” and “Kageme.”

Groups of stones which contain vacant spaces, can be lost or saved according as two disconnected “Me” can or cannot be formed in those spaces, and the most interesting play in the game occurs along the sides and especially in the corners of the board in attempting to form or attempting to prevent the formation of these “Me.” The attacking player often plays into the vacant space and sacrifices several stones with the ultimate object of reducing the space to one “Me”; and, on the other hand, the defending player by selecting a fortunate intersection may make it impossible for the stones to be killed. There is opportunity for marvelous ingenuity in the attack and defense of these positions. A simple example of defense is shown in Plate 3, Diagram IV, where, if it is White’s turn, and he plays in the corner of the board at T 19, he can save his stones. If, on the other hand, he plays anywhere else, the two “Me” can never be formed. The beginner would do well to work out this situation for himself.