The view of the Polling Booth is full of intention. Within, seated at the back, on a raised platform, are the sheriffs or bailiffs with whom the election rests, and their attendant, the beadle; in the front are the poll clerks, with their register-books, and the lawyers to see the testaments duly offered for attesting the oath; in the left corner, a veteran (the Militia Bill peeps out of his pocket), who has lost both arms and one leg, is touching the testament with the iron hook which does duty for his missing hand; the clerk is trying to stifle his laughter, while the opposition lawyer is energetically protesting against this proceeding as informal. Hogarth has literally brought “the blind and the halt” to the hustings; in fact, as was too frequently witnessed on these occasions, he has introduced the extremes to which recourse was had,--a pitiable idiot, in a hopeless stage of imbecility, is brought up to the poll in a chair; this poor creature’s mind is too far gone to distinguish between his right and left hands; the clerk is vainly endeavouring to get the proper attestation, while the keeper, or mad doctor, Dr. Shebbeare,[47] whose legs are adorned with fetters as a felon, is prompting his charge; a political letter of the doctor’s is shown in his pocket. Another victim, evidently on the verge of dissolution, is smuggled up to the booth in an unconscious state, wrapped in a blanket and carried by two repulsive ruffians; one of them is puffing a blast of tobacco smoke full in the face of the dying man, to whose night-cap is pinned a “True Blue” favour. “Swift, reverend wag, Iërne’s pride, Who lov’d the comic rein to guide, Has told us, ‘Jailors, when they please, Let out their flock to rob for fees.’ From this sage hint, in needful cases, The wights, who govern other places, Let out their crew for private ends-- _Ergo_, to serve themselves and friends. Behold, here gloriously inclin’d The Sick, the Lame, the Halt, and Blind! From Workhouse, Jail, and Hospital, Submissive come, true Patriots all! * * * * * And ’scaped from wars and foreign clutches, An Invalid’s behind on crutches.” Drinking is still proceeding, and “dying speeches” are hawked about, with the usual heading of a rude woodcut of the gallows, in allusion most probably to a local occurrence which produced considerable agitation amongst the public at large--the passions of the multitude having been set into a flame, in the absence of political excitement, by the trial and execution at Oxford, in 1753, of a young woman, Mary Blandy, for poisoning her father under rather romantic circumstances; she persisted in asserting her innocence, even on the scaffold; a number of pamphlets were published upon her case, which became the subject of warm dispute.