| The Sovereign | £500,000. |
| The member of the Aristocracy | £30,000. |
| The Priest | £7,500. |
| The member of the middle classes | £300. |
| The member of the industrious classes | £20. |
Is this reasonable? is this just? is this even consistent with common sense?
It was New Year's Day, 1839.
The rich man sate down to a table crowded with every luxury: the pauper in the workhouse had not enough to eat. The contrast may thus be represented:—
|
Turtle, venison, turkey, hare, pheasant, perigord-pie, plum-pudding, mince-pies, jellies, blancmanger, trifle, preserves, cakes, fruits of all kinds, wines of every description. | ½ lb. bread. 4 oz. bacon. ½ lb. potatoes. 1½ pint of gruel. |
And this was New Year's Day, 1839!
But to proceed.
It was five o'clock in the evening. Three persons were conversing together on Constitution Hill, beneath the wall of the Palace Gardens.
Two of them, who were wrapped up in warm pilot coats, are well known to our readers: the third was a young lad of about sixteen or seventeen, and very short in stature. He was dressed in a blue jacket, dark waistcoat of coarse materials, and corduroy trousers. His countenance was effeminate and by no means bad-looking; his eyes were dark and intelligent; his teeth good. The name of this youth was Henry Holford.
"Well, my boy," said the Resurrection Man, for he was one of the lad's companions, the other being the redoubtable Cracksman,—"well, my boy, do you feel equal to this undertaking?"