I heard terrible rumours of these avenging Solons, and of the floggings, solitary confinements, and other barbarities that followed in the wake of their fortnightly visits, and was prepared—but perfectly indifferent—for the worst. My information for the most part was derived from brother malefactors, and consequently likely to be considerably exaggerated. I found, indeed, that this was the case, and when the eventful day—Black Wednesday—arrived, I discovered that the dreaded justices were a full bench of Middlesex magistrates, my old friends who had smashed, pulverized, and otherwise annihilated Barnabas Amos on my representations, and who I hoped and believed were gentlemen capable of weighing the pros and cons of my peculiar case. My expectations were more than verified. The punishment cells, as I had had them described, and of which I hereafter got a bird’s-eye view—_from outside_—were not inviting abodes. There are twelve of them, fitted with double doors, warranted to preclude all sound from penetrating beyond. They contain no furniture, except a plank and a stool, both fixed to the floor, and the two blankets and rug that constitute the entire bed and bedding are issued every night and removed every morning. Water is supplied three times a day, and the food is stirabout and dry bread, administered on homoeopathic principles. Books there are none—indeed, the subdued light would make them superfluous; the occupants, moreover, have no employment, the distraction of oakum-picking even being fiendishly denied them. Men who had undergone this punishment told me that the effect was indescribable, this combination of gloom, idleness, and profound silence, and their wasted appearance after a fortnight’s incarceration fully confirmed their assertions. The penalty, as I was credibly informed, for sending a letter out was ten days at least in the punishment cells; and a preliminary I underwent of being carefully weighed on the morning of the eventful day raised the betting in my estimation to six to four on the cells. A kind friend expressed great sympathy for me, but feared I must make up my mind to this degrading punishment. But he was wrong; the weighing was superfluous, and I got off with a reprimand.