The probability of the
      one assumed proving the correct one is then as unity to infinity. But, in reality, this particular point, the shifting of the
      partitions, is of no consequence whatever. It was altogether
      unnecessary to devote seven or eight pages for the purpose of
      proving what no one in his senses would deny—viz: that the
      wonderful mechanical genius of Baron Kempelen could invent the
      necessary means for shutting a door or slipping aside a pannel,
      with a human agent too at his service in actual contact with the
      pannel or the door, and the whole operations carried on, as the
      author of the Essay himself shows, and as we shall attempt to
      show more fully hereafter, entirely out of reach of the
      observation of the spectators. In attempting ourselves an explanation of the Automaton, we will,
      in the first place, endeavor to show how its operations are
      effected, and afterwards describe, as briefly as possible, the
      nature of the _observations _from which we have deduced our
      result. It will be necessary for a proper understanding of the subject,
      that we repeat here in a few words, the routine adopted by the
      exhibiter in disclosing the interior of the box—a routine from
      which he _never _deviates in any material particular. In the
      first place he opens the door No. I. Leaving this open, he goes
      round to the rear of the box, and opens a door precisely at the
      back of door No. I. To this back door he holds a lighted candle. He then _closes the back door, _locks it, and, coming round to
      the front, opens the drawer to its full extent. This done, he
      opens the doors No. 2 and No. 3, (the folding doors) and displays
      the interior of the main compartment. Leaving open the main
      compartment, the drawer, and the front door of cupboard No. I, he
      now goes to the rear again, and throws open the back door of the
      main compartment. In shutting up the box no particular order is
      observed, except that the folding doors are always closed before
      the drawer. Now, let us suppose that when the machine is first rolled into
      the presence of the spectators, a man is already within it. His
      body is situated behind the dense machinery in cupboard No. T.
      (the rear portion of which machinery is so contrived as to slip
      _en masse, _from the main compartment to the cupboard No. I, as
      occasion may require,) and his legs lie at full length in the
      main compartment. When Maelzel opens the door No. I, the man
      within is not in any danger of discovery, for the keenest eye
      cannot penetrate more than about two inches into the darkness
      within. But the case is otherwise when the back door of the
      cupboard No. I, is opened. A bright light then pervades the
      cupboard, and the body of the man would be discovered if it were
      there. But it is not. The putting the key in the lock of the back
      door was a signal on hearing which the person concealed brought
      his body forward to an angle as acute as possible—throwing it
      altogether, or nearly so, into the main compartment. This,
      however, is a painful position, and cannot be long maintained. Accordingly we find that Maelzel _closes the back door. _This
      being done, there is no reason why the body of the man may not
      resume its former situation—for the cupboard is again so dark as
      to defy scrutiny. The drawer is now opened, and the legs of the
      person within drop down behind it in the space it formerly
      occupied. {*4} There is, consequently, now no longer any part of
      the man in the main compartment—his body being behind the
      machinery in cupboard No. 1, and his legs in the space occupied
      by the drawer. The exhibiter, therefore, finds himself at liberty
      to display the main compartment. This he does—opening both its
      back and front doors—and no person Is discovered. The spectators
      are now satisfied that the whole of the box is exposed to
      view—and exposed too, all portions of it at one and the same
      time. But of course this is not the case. They neither see the
      space behind the drawer, nor the interior of cupboard No. 1—the
      front door of which latter the exhibiter virtually shuts in
      shutting its back door. Maelzel, having now rolled the machine
      around, lifted up the drapery of the Turk, opened the doors in
      his back and thigh, and shown his trunk to be full of machinery,
      brings the whole back into its original position, and closes the
      doors. The man within is now at liberty to move about. He gets up
      into the body of the Turk just so high as to bring his eyes above
      the level of the chess-board. It is very probable that he seats
      himself upon the little square block or protuberance which is
      seen in a corner of the main compartment when the doors are open. In this position he sees the chess-board through the bosom of the
      Turk which is of gauze. Bringing his right arm across his breast
      he actuates the little machinery necessary to guide the left arm
      and the fingers of the figure. This machinery is situated just
      beneath the left shoulder of the Turk, and is consequently easily
      reached by the right hand of the man concealed, if we suppose his
      right arm brought across the breast. The motions of the head and
      eyes, and of the right arm of the figure, as well as the sound
      _echec _are produced by other mechanism in the interior, and
      actuated at will by the man within. The whole of this
      mechanism—that is to say all the mechanism essential to the
      machine—is most probably contained within the little cupboard (of
      about six inches in breadth) partitioned off at the right (the
      spectators’ right) of the main compartment. In this analysis of the operations of the Automaton, we have
      purposely avoided any allusion to the manner in which the
      partitions are shifted, and it will now be readily comprehended
      that this point is a matter of no importance, since, by mechanism
      within the ability of any common carpenter, it might be effected
      in an infinity of different ways, and since we have shown that,
      however performed, it is performed out of the view of the
      spectators. Our result is founded upon the following
      _observations _taken during frequent visits to the exhibition of
      Maelzel. {*5}

      I. The moves of the Turk are not made at regular intervals of
      time, but accommodate themselves to the moves of the
      antagonist—although this point (of regularity) so important in
      all kinds of mechanical contrivance, might have been readily
      brought about by limiting the time allowed for the moves of the
      antagonist.