six marks a day, or no
remission. He is spoiled for ever, and as a racer his days are ended.

The dray-horse comes next, the load is a mere toy to him, he gets his
eight marks a day, but by-and-bye he begins to feel the effects of an
empty stomach, to fill which he would require double the allowance of
food he receives; and in the long run he too breaks down and is passed
into the hands of the veterinary surgeon, and is ruined as a useful
animal.

Next comes the farmer's horse, and the load and diet being suitable to
him, he can do the punishment and easily satisfy the law.

The broken-down hack is never yoked at all, he passes into the hands of
the surgeon, and there remains. While the little Shetlander is in
clover; he never had so many oats before--has actually as much again as
he can consume--and the cart and harness being too large, and the load
altogether ridiculous for his strength, he is never put to it, and so
escapes the legal punishment. And so it is that one portion of the
inhabitants of horsedom, pointing to the Shetlander, cry out that "the
convicts have too much food, they are up to the eyes in luxuries;"
another portion, pointing to the dray horse, say "the convicts are
starved, and are dying of hunger;" whilst a third answers both by
pointing to the farm horse and saying that "he can do the work and
satisfy the law. Why should they not all be treated alike? a horse is a
horse all the world over."

Our system of dieting and working convicts is exactly similar to the
above; only at the invalid prison where I was confined the law was not
adhered to. I knew prisoners who ate double the quantity of food
allowed them, and I knew others who did not eat above half. Sometimes
it happened that a voracious prisoner could not get his food exchanged
so as to increase its bulk, and in that case he would be compelled to
seek refuge in hospital. If the diet there was not sufficient, God help
him, for from man no further aid was to be expected.

I recollect having a conversation with a prisoner who had just arrived
with eighteen others from the prison at Chatham. He had got his leg
broken accidentally while at work there, and the medical men had not
made a very good job of putting the bones together, so that he did not
expect ever to be able to use it. I asked him what sort of a place
Chatham was under the new system.

"Oh, it's the worst station out," he replied, "they are starved and
worked to death. They are