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Дата написания1970-01-01
Язык книгиen
Возрастное ограничение12+

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G.W.N

GAME OF CHESS

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

Perceiving in No. 321 of the MIRROR a brief history of the game of chess, perhaps the following anecdote will not be found unacceptable to your readers:—When the game of chess was first invented, the emperor of China sent for the inventor, and desired him to teach it him. The emperor was so delighted with the game, that he told the inventor whatever he should demand should be given him as a remuneration for his discovery. To which he replied, that if his majesty would but give him a grain of corn for the first square of the chess-board, and keep doubling it every check until he arrived at the end, he would be satisfied. At first the emperor was astonished at what he thought the man's modesty, and instantly ordered his request to be granted.

The following is the sum total of the number of grains of corn, and also the number of times they would reach round the world, which is 360 degrees, each degree being 69-1/2 miles:—

18446743573783086315 grains.

3883401821 times round the world.

I perfectly agree with your correspondent that China has the preference of invention.

G.H.C

QUEEN ELIZABETH'S VIRGINAL

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

On reading No. 336 of the MIRROR, I saw an account of an ancient musical instrument, the virginal, stating it to have been an instrument much in use in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. That such was the case there can be no doubt, for the musical world can still furnish many compositions, written expressly for Queen Elizabeth, her majesty being considered a very good performer on the virginal. But it is not generally known that the very identical instrument, the favourite property of that queen, is still in the possession of a Mr. Jonah Child, artist, of Dudley, Worcestershire. It is a very fine-toned old instrument, considering the many improvements which have been made since that date, and if put in good repair, (which might easily be done, it being quite playable in its present state,) it would not disgrace the name of a Kirkman, or of any of our latest and best harpsichord makers; indeed, it is very far superior to any other instrument of the kind I ever heard. The case is good, particularly in the inside, which is of exquisite workmanship, and beautifully ornamented with (as far as I recollect) gilt scroll work; on the keys has been bestowed a great deal of labour and curious taste. Each of the sharps, or short keys, is composed of a number (perhaps thirty) of bits of pearl, &c., well wrought together. On the whole it is an object well worthy of the attention of the antiquarian and the musician.

Although a stranger to Mr. Jonah Child, I feel great pleasure, while speaking on the subject, in acknowledging the very courteous reception I once met with, on calling at that gentleman's house to see the above curiosity.

Hampstead Road. S.A

FIRE TOWERS

(To the Editor of the Mirror.)

I perceive by a paper in your interesting little work, that the round towers so common in Scotland and Ireland, have afforded the antiquaries much room for the display of their erudition, in ascertaining the purposes for which these towers have been erected.

Now, if any of these worthy and learned gentlemen were to take a trip to Sutherlandshire, in Scotland, they would see the exact purpose for which these buildings were erected; it was merely for the purpose of hanging the church bell in, as stated by your correspondent, in No. 335, of the MIRROR; for there stands at present in the parish of Clyne, near Dunrobin, the seat of the most noble the Marquess of Stafford, one of the said towers with the church bell hung in it to this day, unless removed since last October, the time at which I was there. It stands on the top of an eminence, a short distance (about fifty yards) to the west of the parish church, and is about twenty-five feet high.

A. GAEL

A SUMMER SCENE, BY CLAUDE

(For the Mirror.)

How proudly those hush'd towers receive the glow That mellows the gold sunset—and the trees, Clasping with their deep belt the festal hills, Are ting'd with summer-beauty; the rich waves Swell out their hymn o'er shells and sweet blue flow'rs, And haply the pure seamaid, wandering by, Dips in them her soft tresses. The calm sea, Floating in its magnificence, is seen Like an elysian isle, whose sapphire depths Entranc'd the Arabian poets! In the west, The clouds blend their harmonious pageantry With the descending sun-orb; some appear Like Jove's immortal bird, whose eyes contain'd An essence of its sanctity—and some Seem like proud temples, form'd but to admit The souls of god-like men! Emerald and gold And pink, that softens down the aerial bow, Are interspersed promiscuously, and form A concentration of all lovely things! And far off cities, glittering with the pomp Of spire and pennon, laugh their joyance up In the deep flood of light. Sweet comes the tone Of the touch'd lute from yonder orange bow'rs, And the shrill cymbal pours its elfin spell Into the peasant's being! A sublime And fervid mind was his, whose pencil trac'd The grandeur of this scene! Oh! matchless Claude! Around the painter's mastery thou hast thrown An halo of surpassing loveliness! Gazing on thy proud works, we mourn the curse Which 'reft our race of Eden, for from thee, As from a seraph's wing, we catch the hues That sunn'd our primal heritage ere sin Weav'd her dark oracles. With thee, sweet Claude! Thee! and blind Maeonides would I dwell By streams that gush out richness; there should be Tones that entrance, and forms more exquisite Than throng the sculptor's visions! I would dream Of gorgeous palaces, in whose lit halls Repos'd the reverend magi, and my lips Would pour their spiritual commune 'mid the hush Of those enchanting groves!

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