Photography such as this can hardly be considered artistic, though I have seen worse, but not much. It probably, however, answers all the requirements it is intended for. These works of art are only produced in duplicate, and though I offered a fabulous price to the seedy artist for an extra copy, no business was done; for though negatives are kept, they are kept under lock and key. Of the copies usually printed one was presented to the Governor of Newgate (this individual being lately abolished, I do not know who is now the recipient), the other finds its way into the Coldbath album, and no doubt affords pleasure and instruction at such jubilant gatherings as prison lawn tennis parties, or warders’ beanfeasts, which I was informed (though never invited) are occasionally indulged in. Prisoners are taken in their own clothes, and it is a matter of regret that the ones I then wore have gone the way of all old clothes, for, like their owner, they did not improve by their incarceration, and their huge proportions made them worthless without alteration. Pose or position is a secondary consideration, a good out-and-out resemblance is the thing to be attained; a deformed ear, or a fly-blown nose, would at once be seized upon, and the lens directed point blank at such fortunate distinctions. In my case there was nothing to merit special reproduction, so with a smirk that would have hanged me fifty years ago (for even here the “artist” could not resist the conventional request) I qualified for the Government album. On one side one’s number is pinned to one’s coat, on the other is a slate with one’s name in full, thus supplying an index simple but complete, and in proportion to the intellects of such probable students as the motley crew one periodically saw at Newgate. To me the ordeal had neither terror nor charms, though to some of my companions it was evidently not agreeable. One rogue caused considerable trouble by persistently protruding his chin or distorting some feature; these antics were not indulged in in a spirit of levity, but resorted to gradually as the cap was being taken off. He evidently objected to an accurate likeness, and so he might. I never could find out particulars, but not long after he disappeared from Coldbath, and whether hanged or a “lifer,” I never heard. _That_ photograph had fulfilled its mission.