The whole style and system at Newgate was excessively low. I was moreover very much struck by the resemblance that appeared to exist between the officials from the highest to the lowest. Every one had the same unpleasant expression that suggested the idea that they lived in gloomy streets, where the drainage was bad. I attribute this in a measure to a commendable desire on the part of the subordinates to imitate their chief, who had not a pleasant expression, and shows how necessary it is that Government should select a gentleman by birth and manners—irrespective of every other recommendation—for a position of such delicacy as that of a prison Governor. The next ordeal one had to submit to was “Chapel,” and, barring the novelty of the scene, I can hardly conceive a more absurd farce. The pumping Chaplain was here metamorphosed into the surpliced cleric, and it is difficult to decide in which character he was most objectionable. In justice I must commend him for the brevity of his remarks, for from find to finish—from “When the wicked man” to the end of the sermon—was all compressed into fifteen minutes, and away we again trudged, like Alice in Wonderland, in search of further novelty. The Chapel of Newgate is a very awful place; anything more calculated to banish reverential feeling and inspire horror can hardly be conceived. On each side is a huge cage, different from anything I had ever seen, except, perhaps, the elephant house at the Zoological. In these, prisoners convicted and prisoners awaiting trial are severally placed, thus effectually dividing the Scotland Yard sheep from the Scotland Yard goats. Above, protected by small red curtains, were diminutive balconies, capable of holding three persons at most; these were for the accommodation of murderers, from whence they receive the consolations of religion (official) whilst awaiting strangulation. The vibration of a curtain led me to the conclusion that one of these mortuaries was daily occupied, a suspicion that was confirmed by events which I subsequently heard and saw. I discovered, indeed, that a gentleman who had cut the throats of half his family, and who eventually benefited by the religious consolation of the Chaplain and the delicate attentions of Mr. Marwood, was a fellow-lodger at the same time as myself. I saw the poor wretch every day passing and repassing, and later on “assisted” at certain preliminaries in his honour. I moreover had a bird’s-eye view of his last appearance in public, facts that I shall duly narrate hereafter.