After a slumber of four years Bangs the fresh, the growing, the
vigorous, has risen from his lair, and shaking the dew from his
mane, has given utterance to a roar that no champion of chess can
hear without a shudder. There is no doubt that he has gained
at least a pawn in strength since 1868. Dr. Hooker too, the
lightning player, now gives where he once received a Castle.
Beach has returned to his native heath rich with the experience
of Morphy's old haunt the Cafe de la Regence. Hall has
toughened his sinews by many a desperate tug with the paladins
of New York. Mackenzie himself has felt the force of his genius
and gazed on his moves with astonishment. Between the styles of
these four great players there is a notable difference. Bangs,
like the lion, tears everything absolutely to fragments that comes
within the reach of his claws. Hooker, like the eagle, soars
screaming aloft sometimes to such a height that he loses himself
but only to return with a desperate sense which Bangs himself
can hardly withstand. Beach, more like the slow worm, insinuates
gradually into the bowels of the enemy making his presence only
felt by the effect, while Hall, on the contrary, rushes right
onward like the locomotive scattering obstacles to right and left,
and treating his antagonist with no more ceremony than if he were
a cow strayed accidentally upon the track.
------