beat each other as savagely as they can until one or the other is
too much injured to continue the combat. This takes place in the
midst of a mob of such persons as enjoy spectacles of the kind; that
is to say, the vilest blackguards whom a large city can afford to
leave at large, and many whom it cannot. As the prize-money
contributed by each side often amounts to upwards of a thousand
pounds, and as a successful pugilist commands far higher terms for
giving tuition in boxing than a tutor at one of the universities
does for coaching, you will see that such a man, while his youth and
luck last, may have plenty of money, and may even, by aping the
manners of the gentlemen whom he teaches, deceive careless
people--especially those who admire eccentricity--as to his
character and position."

"What is his true position? I mean before he becomes a
prize-fighter."

"Well, he may be a handicraftsman of some kind: a journeyman
butcher, skinner, tailor, or baker. Possibly a soldier, sailor,
policeman, gentleman's servant, or what not? But he is generally a
common laborer. The waterside is prolific of such heroes."

"Do they never come from a higher rank?"

"Never even from the better classes in their own. Broken-down
gentlemen are not likely to succeed at work that needs the strength
and endurance of a bull and the cruelty of a butcher."

"And the end of a prize-fighter. What is that like?"