onitions. "He does not deal about his
blows at random, but always hits the right nail upon the head. The
inexpressible force wherewith he lays them on sufficiently shows the
strength of his convictions. His zeal for a good author is indeed
outrageous, and breaks down every fence and partition, every board and
plank, that stands within the expression of his applause."

Moreover, the "Spectator" insists upon the value and importance to an
audience of a functionary thus presiding over them like the director
of a concert, in order to awaken their attention and beat time to
their applauses; or, "to raise my simile," Addison continues, "I have
sometimes fancied the trunkmaker in the upper gallery to be, like
Virgil's ruler of the winds, seated upon the top of a mountain, who,
when he struck his sceptre upon the side of it, 'roused a hurricane
and set the whole cavern in an uproar.'"

In conclusion, the writer, not caring to confine himself to barren
speculations or to reports of pure matter of fact, without deriving
therefrom something of advantage to his countrymen, takes the liberty
of proposing that upon the demise of the trunkmaker, or upon his
losing "the spring of his arm" by sickness, old age, infirmity, or the
like, some able-bodied critic should be advanced to his post, with a
competent salary, and a supply, at the public expense, of bamboos for
operas, crab-tree cudgels for comedies, and oaken plants for
tragedies. "And to the end that this place should be always disposed
of according to merit, I would have none preferred to it who has not
given convincing proofs both of a sound judgment and a strong arm, and
who could not upon occasion either knock down an ox, or write a
comment upon Horace's 'Art of Poetry.' In short, I would have him a
due composition of Hercules and Apollo, and so rightly qualified for
this important office that the trunkmaker may not be missed by our
posterity."

Addison's paper doubtless possessed an element of fact and truth,
enriched by the fancifulness peculiar to the writer. It was his manner
thus to embroider commonplace; to enhance the actual by large
additions of the ideal. There probably existed such a personage as the
trunkmaker; some visitor to the upper gallery was in the habit of
expressing approval by strokes of his cudgel upon the wainscot; and
his frequent presence had obtained the recognition of the other
patrons of the theatre. It was an easy and a pleasant task to Addison