there was a kind of
iron cage in the wall of the Fleet Prison, within which was posted some
man of hungry looks, who, from time to time, rattled a money-box, and
exclaimed in a mournful voice, 'Pray, remember the poor debtors; pray
remember the poor debtors.' The receipts of this box, when there were
any, were divided among the poor prisoners; and the men on the poor side
relieved each other in this degrading office.

Although this custom has been abolished, and the cage is now boarded up,
the miserable and destitute condition of these unhappy persons remains
the same. We no longer suffer them to appeal at the prison gates to the
charity and compassion of the passersby; but we still leave unblotted
the leaves of our statute book, for the reverence and admiration of
succeeding ages, the just and wholesome law which declares that the
sturdy felon shall be fed and clothed, and that the penniless debtor
shall be left to die of starvation and nakedness. This is no fiction.
Not a week passes over our head, but, in every one of our prisons for
debt, some of these men must inevitably expire in the slow agonies of
want, if they were not relieved by their fellow-prisoners.

Turning these things in his mind, as he mounted the narrow staircase
at the foot of which Roker had left him, Mr. Pickwick gradually worked
himself to the boiling-over point; and so excited was he with his
reflections on this subject, that he had burst into the room to which
he had been directed, before he had any distinct recollection, either of
the place in which he was, or of the object of his visit.

The general aspect of the room recalled him to himself at once; but he
had no sooner cast his eye on the figure of a man who was brooding
over the dusty fire, than, letting his hat fall on the floor, he stood
perfectly fixed and immovable with astonishment.

Yes; in tattered garments, and without a coat; his common calico shirt,
yellow and in rags; his hair hanging over his face; his features changed
with suffering, and pinched with famine--there sat Mr. Alfred Jingle;
his head resting on his hands, his eyes fixed upon the fire, and his
whole appearance denoting misery and dejection!

Near him, leaning listlessly against the wall, stood a strong-built
countryman, flicking with a worn-out hunting-whip the top-boot that
adorned his right foot; his left being thrust into an old slipper.
Horses, dogs, and drink had brought him there, pell-mell. There was a
r