THE ELECTION, PLATE III. THE POLLING.
With the glorious ambition of serving their country, added to an eagerness of displaying their own importance, the maimed, the lame, the blind, the deaf, and the sick, hasten to the hustings to give their independent votes.[77] The contending candidates, seated at the back of the booth, anticipate the event. One of them, coolly resting upon his cane in a state of stupid satisfaction, appears to be as happy as his nature will admit, in the certainty of success. Very different are the feelings of his opponent, who, rubbing his head with every mark of apprehensive agitation, contemplates the state of the poll, and shudders at the heavy expense of a contest in which he is likely to be the loser. Such are the cares of a candidate.
"A man, when once he's safely chose,
May laugh at all his furious foes,
Nor think of former evil:
Yet good has its attendant ill,
A seat is no bad thing,—but still,
A contest is the Devil."
The first person that tenders his oath to the swearing clerk is an old soldier, and probably a brave one, for he has lost a leg, an arm, and a hand, in the service of his country. They were severed by the sword of an enemy, but the trunk and heart remain entire, and are entitled to more respect than is paid them by the brawling advocate, who, with that loud and overbearing loquacity for which Billingsgate and the bar are so deservedly eminent, puts in a protest against his vote. The objection is not founded upon this heroic remnant of war having forfeited his franchise by any improper conduct, but upon the letter, the black letter of the law, "which," says our quibbling counsellor, "ordains, 'that the person who makes an affidavit shall lay his right hand upon the book.' Now, this man having had his right hand severed from his arm, and, as he informs us, left it in Flanders, cannot comply with the letter of the law, and therefore is not competent to make an affidavit; that being once admitted, which I do contend must be admitted, he cannot be deemed competent to vote." "That," replies another gentleman of the black robe, "I most pointedly deny; for though this valiant veteran, who is an half-pay officer, has lost much of his blood and three of his limbs in the service of his king, and defence of his fellow-subjects, yet the sword which deprived him of his hand has not deprived him of his birthright. God forbid it should! It might as well be argued and asserted, that this gentleman is excluded from the rites of matrimony because he cannot pledge his hand. Thanks to our religion and our constitution, neither law nor gospel holds such language, and it is beneath me to waste any more words in the confutation of it. I will only add,—and I do insist upon my opinion being confirmed by every statute upon the case,—that the law must and will consider this substitute for a hand to be as good as the hand itself; and his laying that upon the book is all which the law ought to require,—all the law can require,—all the law does require."