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as likely to succeed as any of its fellows. They all of them have the same pretensions to good luck, stand upon the same foot of competition, and no manner of reason can be given why a man should prefer one to the other before the lottery is drawn. In this case, therefore, caprice very often acts in the place of reason, and forms to itself some groundless imaginary motive, where real and substantial ones are wanting. I know a well-meaning man that is very well pleased to risk his good fortune upon the number 1711, 10 because it is the year of our Lord. I am acquainted with a tacker that would give a good deal for the number 134. On the contrary I have been told of a certain zealous dissenter, who being a great enemy to popery, and believing that bad men are the most fortunate in this world, will lay two to one on the number 666 against any other number, because, says he, it is the number of the beast. Several would prefer the number 12000 before any other, as it is the number of the pounds in the great prize. In short, some are pleased to find their own age in their number; some that they have 20 got a number which makes a pretty appearance in the ciphers, and others, because it is the same number that succeeded in the last lottery Each of these, upon no other grounds, thinks he stands fairest for the great lot, and that he is possessed of what may not be improperly called the Golden Number.
These principles of election are the pastimes and extravagancies of human reason, which is of so busy a nature, that it will be exerting itself in the meanest trifles and working even when it wants materials. The wisest of men 30 are sometimes acted by such unaccountable motives, as the life of the fool and the superstitious is guided by nothing else.
I am surprised that none of the fortune-tellers, or, as the French call them, the Diseurs de bonne Avanture, who publish their bills in every quarter of the town, have not turned our lotteries to their advantage; did any of them set up for a
caster of fortunate figures, what might he not get by his pretended discoveries and predictions?
I remember among the advertisements in the Post-Boy of September the 27th, I was surprised to see the following
"This is to give notice, that ten shillings over and above the market-price will be given for the ticket in the £1500000 Lottery, No. 132, by Nath. Cliff, at the Bible and Three Crowns in Cheapside."
This advertisement has given great matter of speculation 10 to coffee-house theorists. Mr. Cliff s principles and conversation have been canvassed upon this occasion, and various conjectures made why he should thus set his heart upon number 132. I have examined all the powers in those numbers, broken them into fractions, extracted the square and cube root, divided and multiplied them all ways, but could not arrive at the secret till about three days ago, when I received the following letter from an unknown hand, by which I find that Mr. Nathaniel Cliff is only the agent, and not the principal, in this advertisement.
I am the person that lately advertised I would give ten shillings more than the current price for the ticket No. 132 in the lottery now drawing; which is a secret I have communicated to some friends, who rally me incessantly on that account. You must know I have but one ticket, for which reason, and a certain dream I have lately had more than once, I was resolved it should be the number I most approved. I am so positive I have pitched upon the great lot, that I could almost lay all I am worth of it. My visions 30 are so frequent and strong upon this occasion, that I have not only possessed the lot, but disposed of the money which in all probability it will sell for. This morning, in particular, I set up an equipage which I look upon to be the gayest in the town. The liveries are very rich, but not gaudy.
I should be very glad to see a speculation or two upon
lottery subjects, in which you would oblige all people concerned, and in particular
"Your most humble servant, "GEORGE GOSLING. "P.S.-Dear Spec, if I get the 12000 pound, I'll make thee a handsome présent."
After having wished my correspondent good luck, and thanked him for his intended kindness, I shall for this time dismiss the subject of the lottery, and only observe that 10 the greatest part of mankind are in some degree guilty of my friend Gosling's extravagance. We are apt to rely upon future prospects, and become really expensive while we are only rich in possibility. We live up to our expectations, not to our possessions, and make a figure proportionable to what we may be, not what we are. We out-run our present income, as not doubting to disburse ourselves out of the profits of some future place, project, or reversion, that we have in view. It is through this temper of mind, which is
so common among us, that we see tradesmen break, who 20 have met with no misfortunes in their business; and men of estates reduced to poverty, who have never suffered from losses or repairs, tenants, taxes, or law-suits. In short, it is this foolish sanguine temper, this depending upon contingent futurities, that occasions romantic generosity, chimerical grandeur, senseless ostentation, and generally ends in beggary and ruin. The man, who will live above his present circum. stances, is in great danger of living in a little time much beneath them, or, as the Italian proverb runs, the man who lives by hope will die by hunger.
It should be an indispensable rule in life, to contract our desires to our present condition, and whatever may be our expectations, to live within the compass of what we actually possess. It will be time enough to enjoy an estate when it comes into our hands; but if we anticipate our good fortune, we shall lose the pleasure of it when it arrives, and may possibly never possess what we have so foolishly counted upon. L.
XXII. THE TRUNK-MAKER AT THE PLAY.
Thursday, November 29, 1711.
Vincentem strepitus.-Hor. Ars Poet, 81.
Awes the tumultuous noises of the pit.-Roscommon.
THERE is nothing which lies more within the province of a Spectator than public shows and diversions; and as among these there are none which can pretend to vie with those elegant entertainments that are exhibited in our theatres, I think it particularly incumbent on me to take notice of everything that is remarkable in such numerous and refined assemblies.
It is observed, that of late years there has been a certain person in the upper gallery of the play-house, who, when he is pleased with anything that is acted upon the stage, expresses his approbation by a loud knock upon the benches or the wainscot, which may be heard over the whole theatre. This person is commonly known by the name of the "Trunkmaker in the upper gallery." Whether it be, that the blow he gives on these occasions resembles that which is often heard in the shops of such artisans, or that he was supposed to have been a real trunk-maker, who, after the finishing of 20 his day's work used to unbend his mind at these public diversions with his hammer in his hand, I cannot certainly tell. There are some, I know, who have been foolish enough to imagine it is a spirit which haunts the upper gallery, and from time to time makes those strange noises, and the rather, because he is observed to be louder than ordinary every time the ghost of Hamlet appears. Others have reported that it is a dumb man, who has chosen this way of uttering himself, when he is transported with anything he sees or hears. Others will have it to be the play-house thunderer, that 30
exerts himself after this manner in the upper gallery, when he has nothing to do upon the roof.
But having made it my business to get the best information I could in a matter of this moment, I find that the Trunk-maker, as he is commonly called, is a large black man, whom nobody knows. He generally leans forward on a huge oaken plant, with great attention to everything that passes upon the stage. He is never seen to smile; but upon hearing anything that pleases him, he takes up his staff with both 10 hands, and lays it upon the next piece of timber that stands in his way with exceeding vehemence : after which he composes himself in his former posture, till such time as something new sets him again at work.
It has been observed, his blow is so well timed, that the most judicious critic could never except against it. As soon as any shining thought is expressed in the poet, or any uncommon grace appears in the actor, he smites the bench or wainscot. If the audience does not concur with him, he smites a second time; and if the audience is not yet awaked, 20 looks round him with great wrath, and repeats the blow a third time, which never fails to produce the clap. He sometimes lets the audience begin the clap of themselves, and at the conclusion of their applause ratifies it with a single thwack.
He is of so great use to the play-house, that it is said a former director of it, upon his not being able to pay his attendance by reason of sickness, kept one in pay to officiate for him till such time as he recovered; but the person so employed, though he laid about him with incredible violence, 30 did it in such wrong places, that the audience soon found out that it was not their old friend the Trunk-maker.
It has been remarked, that he has not yet exerted himself with vigour this season. He sometimes plies at the opera ; and upon Nicolini's first appearance, was said to have demolished three benches in the fury of his applause. He has broken half a dozen oaken plants upon Dogget; and seldom