He remained for some time moody and thoughtful. After awhile he rose from his seat, and proceeded to examine his narrow prison house. It was a stone or brick-arched room, some fourteen feet by seven; the furniture was in no way superfluous. A bedstead, consisting of the side walls of the apartment; polished steel staples were fixed in these walls, two on each side, at an elevation of about two feet and a half. The occupant’s mattress has two short steel hooks at each end, these are hooked into the staples, so he lies across his abode. A deal table, the size of a pocket-handkerchief, also a deal seat; a bright copper wash basin, fastened to the wall, with a water tap over it so ingeniously contrived, that turned to the right it sends a small stream into the basin, and to the left into a bottomless close stool at some little distance. There were three shelves in one corner.

An iron enamelled plate, a tin mug, wooden spoon, and salt box, and a piece of soap were arranged on the two lower shelves.

“How cursedly clean and staring everything is,” exclaimed Peace, in a tone of disgust. “The things seem to glare at you. Ugh! this is about the most contemtible piece of business I ever knew; but, law, they’ll never convict upon such a trumpery charge.”

He was under the full impression that he would be acquitted.

A great many people are committed by magistrates for trial that are not found guilty. There are many cases where a magistrate will not take upon himself the responsibility of deciding a case, which he prefers being disposed of by the verdict of a jury.

It does happen sometimes that a perfectly innocent man is committed for trial, and it does appear hard, not to say unjust, that he should be subjected to the many indignities and privations which prisoners have to endure.

The law holds that every man is innocent till he is found guilty, and there should certainly be some better arrangement in respect to prisoners who are awaiting their trial.

We question much whether it is advisable for them to be sent to the same prison with others who are convicted.

Many a man at the close of his trial has left the court “without a stain upon his character.” Yet he has had to pass through a painful ordeal, which possibly he will not forget for the remainder of his life. This ought not to be.

Men untried should be treated very differently from the way they are so long as they are kept secure from escape; the main object of their detention is effected. But a man who is unjustly accused, sent to prison, and afterwards proved innocent, bears with him the unpleasant reflection that some mischievous and evil-disposed person is sure to be found who will whisper mysteriously to others “So-and-so was charged with larceny, but he was acquitted.”