would be a prize of £3000, in the ensuing lottery, which he mentioned to Captain G——, but never intimated any intention of having that ticket; he, however, wrote up to his agent in London to procure it, who found the Captain was beforehand with him, as he had got it the day before, and refused to give it up. By the intercession of the seconds, it is settled that they are each to have half the ticket, and as they are both very meritorious officers, we sincerely wish they may have one of the numerous Capital Prizes with which the scheme abounds.
The most stupendous efforts were made to promote the success of the last lottery, which, however, languished sadly. The price of tickets was arbitrarily raised, to induce a belief that they were in great demand, “at the very moment when,” says Hone, writing immediately afterwards, “their sale was notoriously at a stand; and the lagging attention of the public of the metropolis was endeavoured to be quickened by all sorts of stratagems to the 18th of July, as the very last chance that would occur in England of gaining ‘Six 30,000l. besides other Capitals,’ which it was positively affirmed were ‘all to be drawn’ on that fatal day.” Besides the dispersion of innumerable bills and aspersions on Government for extinguishing the Lottery, those most interested in its preservation caused London and the suburbs to be paraded by a most magnificent procession, in which was a band of music which played to attract attention, and then a man stepped forward, and ringing a bell, announced the death of the Lottery. Cartloads of bills were showered down areas and thrust under doors, and no