THE CAPTIV E. PARI S. HE bird in his cage purfaed THE me into my room; I fat down close to my table, and leaning my head upon my hand, I begun to figure to myself the miseries of confinement. I was in a right frame for it, and so I gave full scope to my imagination. I was going to begin with the millions of my fellow creatures born to no inheritance but flavery; but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring it near near me, and that the multitude of fad groups in it did but diftract me. -I took a fingle captive, and having first fhut him up in his dungeon, I then look'd through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture. 1 beheld his body half wafted away with long expectation and confinement, and felt what kind of fickness of the heart it was which arifes from hope deferr'd. Upon looking nearer I faw him pale and feverish in thirty years the western breeze had not once fann'd his blood-he had feen no fun, no moon in all that time-nor had the voice of friend or kinfman breathed through his lattice-his children -But here my heart began to bleed -and I was forced to go on with another part of the portrait. He was fitting upon the ground upon a little ftraw, in the furtheft corner of his dungeon, which was alternately his chair and bed: a little calendar of small sticks were laid at the head notch'd all over with the dismal days and nights he had pafs'd therehe had one of thefe little fticks in his hand, and with a rufty nail he was etching another day of mifery to add to the heap. As I darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a hopeless eye' eye towards the door, then caft it down-fhook his head, and went on with his work of affliction. I heard his chains upon his legs, as he turn'd his body to lay his little stick upon the bundle-He gave a deep figh-I saw the iron enter into his foul-I burst into tears I could not fuftain the picture of confinement which my fancy had drawn-I started up from my chair, and calling Le Fleur, I bid him befpeak me a remife, and have it ready at the door of the hotel by nine in the morning. go directly, faid I, myself to Monfieur Le Duc de Choifeul. Le |