"It is our painful duty to announce the demise of Edward Lowe, of Surrey Street, Strand. He died on the 24th of February, at the advanced age of 86, according to the information which we officially received; friends, however, who have known the kind old gentleman for the last forty years, assure us that he must have been over 90.

He paid his tribute to nature without being attacked by any serious illness, and in full possession of his mental faculties up to the last moment, when he shook off this mortal coil. As a Chess-player, Mr. Lowe did not aspire to the highest rank, but he was a very dangerous opponent, and must be counted among the first-class players of his time.

Mr. Lowe never refused a friendly challenge, he frequently encountered our best players, and not seldom successfully, generally winding up the sitting with the phrase: "My dear Sir, there are no more weak players now-a-days." It is much to be regretted that only a few of his games are recorded, a result of an utmost indifference to notoriety. In his social intercourse as in his play we have always found him modest, kindhearted, and courteous. And we may say of Mr. Lowe, which very few of us can boast of, that he had no enemies. When we complimented him on his "evergreen" appearance, he would reply: "Old age is like an old garment, there is always something amiss with it. We patch it up as long as we can. I had my wear out of my coat." Mr. Lowe has been the Democritus —the laughing philosopher— of Chess players."