Sunk in the emphasis of grief;
Nor can he feel, nor dares he ask relief."
In the cell are the portraits of three saints, whose systems were built on the necessity of propagating the religion of mercy by the sword and the wheel.
Near him are two astronomers, one with a paper rolled up to imitate a telescope, gazing at the roof, in the idea that it is
"The spacious canopy of heaven, fretted with golden fires."
The other, delineating the firing off a bomb and a ship moored at a distance, is an immediate ridicule of Whiston's project for the discovery of the longitude,—an object which at this time engaged the attention of the philosophical world, and in the fruitless search after which many a feeble head hath become mad, north—north-west!
The opposite group form a whimsical trio. A mad musician, a counterfeit presentment of St. Peter, and a poor gentleman, with his hands clasped together, that appears by the inscription of "Charming Betty Careless," which he has chalked upon a board, to be
"Craz'd with care, and cross'd by hopeless love."
He is absorbed in thought, and his whole soul so engrossed by the charms of his Dulcinea, that neither the discordant sounds of the fiddler, whose trembling strings
"Grate harshly on the nerve auricular,"