Lookup, having determined to make gaming his business, devoted, like a sensible man, his whole attention to it: he calculated the odds coolly, played steadily, and, consequently, won considerably from those fashionable amateurs whose confidence was not according to knowledge. He was not only a proficient in all the usual games at cards, but also played well at billiards. Lord Chesterfield used sometimes to amuse himself at billiards with Lookup; and on one occasion had the laugh turned against him by a ruse of his antagonist, who, after winning a game or two, asked his lordship how many he would give if he were to put a patch over one eye. His lordship agreed to give him five; [206] and Lookup having won several games in succession, his lordship threw down his mace, declaring that he thought Lookup played as well with one eye as with two. "I don't wonder at it, my lord," replied Lookup, "for I have only seen out of one these ten years." The eye of which Lookup had lost the use appeared as perfect as the other, even to a near observer. With the money which he had at various times won of Lord Chesterfield, chiefly at Piquet, he built some houses at Bath, which he jocularly called "Chesterfield Row."
Lookup's gambling career, though successful, was not uniformly smooth; and on one occasion he got himself very awkwardly entangled in the meshes of the law. A gentleman, who had lost between three and four hundred pounds to Lookup at Cribbage, being persuaded that there had been "a pull" upon him, brought an action against Lookup for double damages, according to the statute made and provided for the special protection of the Tom-Noddy class of gamesters,—pitiful, whimpering, greedy fools, who call upon the world to commiserate their losses, though occasioned solely by their attempts on the purses of people more knowing, though not a whit more knavish, than themselves. In the course of some proceedings arising out of this action, Lookup, through the blunder of his attorney, it is said, swore to the truth of a circumstance which was subsequently proved to be false. Lookup was hereupon prosecuted for perjury, and imprisoned; and only escaped the pillory in consequence of a flaw in the indictment: the blunder of his own attorney brings him into peril, and the blunder of his opponent's sets him free; John a-Nokes's broken arm is a set-off against Tom a-Styles's broken leg; each party is left to pay his own costs, and thus the Law at least is satisfied. The oyster is swallowed, and the scales of justice are evenly balanced with a shell in each.
Lookup, like his contemporary, Elwes the miser, who was also a great card-player, frequently lost large sums by projects which he was allured to engage in by the tempting bait of a large return for his capital; a corrective occasionally administered by fortune to her spoiled children when they leave their old successful course of retail trickery, to embark as merchant adventurers on the sea of speculation. But though fortune frowned on him when he gave up gaming as a regular profession, to become the principal partner in a saltpetre manufactory at Chelsea, she yet looked favorably on some of his other speculations which were more in accordance with his old vocation: the shares which he held in several privateers, in the French war from 1758 to 1763, paid well; and he was highly successful as an adventurer in the slave trade. He is said to have died "in harness, "—that is, with cards in his hand,—when engaged in playing at his favorite game of Humbug, or two-handed Whist. Foote—who is supposed to have represented him in the character of Loader, in the farce of the Minor—is said to have observed, on learning the circumstances of his death, that "Lookup was humbugged out of the world at last." He died in November, 1770, aged about seventy. His biographer thus sums up his character: "Upon the whole, Mr. Lookup was as extraordinary a person as we have met with for several years in the metropolis. He possessed a great share of good sense, cultivated by a long acquaintance with the world; had a smattering of learning, and a pretty retentive memory; was fluent in words, and of a ready imagination. We cannot add, he was either generous, grateful, or courageous. In his sentiments, his cunning, and his fate, he nearly resembles the famous Colonel Charteris; a Scotchman by birth, and a gamester by profession, he narrowly escaped condign punishment for a crime that was not amongst the foremost of those of which he probably might be accused." [207] Had he lived in the railway era, he would, most assuredly, have been either a king or a stag royal:
"The craven rook and pert jackdaw,
Although no birds of moral kind,
Yet serve, when dead, and stuffed with straw,
To show us which way points the wind."
The reign of George II is a historical picture of "great breadth," abounding in strongly marked characters, strikingly contrasted; but chiefly undignified, and generally low. The Carnal man is a ruffian rioting in Gin Lane; whilst the Spiritual is typified by a sinister-looking personage, with lank hair, cadaverous visage, and a cock-eye, preaching Free Grace from a tub to a miscellaneous company at Mile-end Green,—the indifference of the unregenerate being indicated by a prize fight in the background. Here a poor rogue is going, drunk, to Tyburn, for having robbed a thief-taker's journeyman of a silver watch, a steel chain, and a tobacco-stopper,—worth altogether forty shillings and threepence, the value required by law to entitle the thief-taker to his price of blood; and there a wealthy soap-boiler, who has made a fortune by cheating the excise, is going in state to Guildhall as Lord Mayor of London. Here a young rake is making violent love to his mother's maid, who has been induced to encourage his attentions from her reading Pamela; and there his aunt, a maiden lady of fifty-two, but having in her own right three thousand a year, is complacently listening to the matrimonial proposals of a young New-light preacher. Here is Colley Cibber sipping his wine at the table of "my lord;" and there sits Samuel Johnson, behind the screen in Cave's back shop, eagerly devouring the plate of meat which the considerate bookseller has sent him from his own table. Here are Johnny Cope and the dragoons riding a race from Preston Pans; and there sits the young Chevalier, unkempt and bare-legged, smoking a short pipe in a Highland hut. Here hangs the sign of the Duke of Cumberland's head; and there, grinning down on it from the elevation of Temple Bar, are the heads of the decapitated rebels. Here Ranelagh is seen shut up on account of the earthquake at Lisbon; [208] and there a batch of gambling senators are hurrying down to the House from the club at White's, to give their votes in favour of a bill to repress gaming.
The several acts passed against gaming, in the reign of George II, appear to have had but little effect in restraining the practice, either at the time, or in any subsequent reign; for though occasionally a solitary loose fish might become entangled in their meshes, they never interrupted the onward course of the great shoal.
The shameless inconsistency of many of the noble lords and honorable gentlemen who were parties to the enactment of those laws, is cleverly shown up in an ironical pamphlet entitled, "A Letter to the Club at White's. In which are set forth the great Expediency of repealing the Laws now in force against Excessive Gaming, and the many Advantages that would arise to this Nation from it. By Erasmus Mumford, Esq.," 1750. The following passages appear most worthy of transcription, both as showing the composition of a celebrated club about a hundred years ago, and as containing the pith of the writer's argument.