prison life, and which would condemn him to
a sentence of so much labour and good conduct
instead of so much time. There are details
in Captain Macconnochie's scheme on which
we have our doubts (rigid silence we consider
indispensable); but, in the main, we regard it
as embodying sound and wise principles.
We infer from the writings of Archbishop
Whateley, that those principles have presented
themselves to his profound and acute mind in
a similar light.

We will first contrast the dietary of The
Model Prison at Pentonville, with the dietary
of what we take to be the nearest workhouse,
namely, that of Saint Pancras. In the prison,
every man receives twenty-eight ounces of
meat weekly. In the workhouse, every able-
bodied adult receives eighteen. In the prison,
every man receives one hundred and forty
ounces of bread weekly. In the workhouse,
every able-bodied adult receives ninety-six.
In the prison, every man receives one hundred
and twelve ounces of potatoes weekly. In the
workhouse, every able-bodied adult receives
thirty-six. In the prison, every man receives
five pints and a quarter of liquid cocoa weekly,
(made of flaked cocoa or cocoa-nibs), with
fourteen ounces of milk and forty-two drams of
molasses; also seven pints of gruel weekly,
sweetened with forty-two drams of molasses.
In the workhouse, every able-bodied adult
receives fourteen pints and a half of milk-
porridge weekly, and no cocoa, and no gruel.
In the prison, every man receives three pints
and a half of soup weekly. In the workhouse,
every able-bodied adult male receives four
pints and a half, and a pint of Irish stew.
This, with seven pints of table-beer weekly,
and six ounces of cheese, is all the man in the
workhouse has to set off against the immensely
superior advantages of the prisoner in all the
other respects we have stated. His lodging is
very inferior to the prisoner's, the costly
nature of whose accommodation we shall
presently show.

Let us reflect upon this contrast in another
aspect. We beg the reader to glance once
more at The Model Prison dietary, and
consider its frightful disproportion to the dietary
of the free labourer in any of the rural parts
of England. What shall we take his wages at?
Will twelve shillings a week do? It cannot
be called a low average, at all events. Twelve
shillings a week make thirty-one pounds four
a year. The cost, in 1848, for the victualling
and management of every prisoner in the
Model Prison was within a little of thirty-six
pounds. Consequently, that free labourer,
with young children to support, with cottage-
rent to pay, and clothes to buy, and no
advantage of purchasing his food in large
amounts by contract, has, for the whole
subsistence of himself and family, between four
and five pounds a year less than the cost of
feeding and overlooking one man in the Model
Prison. Surely to his enlightened mind, and
sometimes low morality, this must be an
extraordinary good reason for keeping out
of it!

But we will not confine ourselves to the
contrast between the labourer's scanty fare
and the prisoner's 'flaked cocoa or cocoa-nibs,'
and daily dinner of soup, meat, and potatoes.
We will rise a little higher in the scale. Let
us see what advertisers in the Times newspaper
can board the middle classes at, and get
a profit out of, too.

A LADY, residing in a cottage, with a large
garden, in a pleasant and healthful locality, would
be happy to receive one or two LADIES to
BOARD with her. Two ladies occupying the
same apartment may be accommodated for 12s.
a week each. The cottage is within a quarter of
an hour's walk of a good market town, 10 minutes'
of a South-Western Railway Station, and an hour's
distance from town.

These two ladies could not be so cheaply
boarded in the Model Prison.

BOARD and RESIDENCE, at £70 per annum,
for a married couple, or in proportion for a
single gentleman or lady, with a respectable family.
Rooms large and airy, in an eligible dwelling, at
Islington, about 20 minutes' walk from the Bank.
Dinner hour six o'clock. There are one or two
vacancies to complete a small, cheerful, and agreeable
circle.

Still cheaper than the Model Prison!

BOARD and RESIDENCE.—A lady, keeping a
select school, in a town, about 30 miles from
London, would be happy to meet with a LADY
to BOARD and RESIDE with her. She would
have her own bed-room and a sitting-room. Any
lady wishing for accomplishments would find this
desirable. Terms £30 per annum. References
will be expected and given.

Again, some six pounds a year less than the
Model Prison! And if we were to pursue
the contrast through the newspaper file for
a month, or through the advertising pages of
two or three numbers of Bradshaw's Railway
Guide, we might probably fill the present
number of this publication with similar
examples, many of them including a decent
education into the bargain.

This Model Prison had cost at the close
of 1847, under the heads of ' building '
and ' repairs ' alone, the insignificant sum
of ninety-three thousand pounds—within
seven thousand pounds of the amount of the
last Government grant for the Education of
the whole people, and enough to pay for the
emigration to Australia of four thousand, six
hundred and fifty poor persons at twenty
pounds per head. Upon the work done by five
hundred prisoners in the Model Prison, in the
year 1848, (we collate these figures from the
Reports, and from Mr. Hepworth Dixon's
useful work on the London Prisons,) there
was no profit, but an actual loss of upwards
of eight hundred pounds. The cost of
instruction, and the time occupied in instruction,
when the labour is necessarily unskilled and
unproductive, may be pleaded in