RAL, KINDRED, AND BLOOD RELATION
SOCIETY"--capital any number of pounds sterling. Actuaries--Messrs.
Oliver Twist and Jacob Faithful.

Only think of the benefits of such a company! Reflect upon the numbers
who leave their homes every morning without parentage, and who might
now possess any amount of relatives they desire before night. Every
one knows that a respectable livelihood is made by a set of persons
whose occupation it is to become bails at the different police
offices, for any class of offence, and to any amount. They exercise
their calling somewhat like bill-brokers, taking special pains always
to secure themselves against loss, and make a trifle of money, while
displaying an unbounded philanthropy. Here then is a class of persons
most appropriate for our purpose: fathers, uncles, first cousins, even
grandfathers, might be made out of these at a moment's notice. What
affecting scenes, too, might be got up at Bow-street, under such
circumstances, of penitent sons, and pardoning parents, of unforgiving
uncles and imploring nephews. How would the eloquence of the
worshipful bench revel, on such occasions, for its display. What
admonitions would it not pour forth, what warnings, what
commiseration, and what condolings. Then what a satisfaction to the
culprit to know that all these things were managed by a respectable
company, who were "responsible in every case for the good conduct of
its servants." No extortion permitted--no bribery allowed; a regular
rate of charges being printed, which every individual was bound, like
a cab-man, to show if required.

So much for a father, if respectable; so much more, if professional;
or in private life, increased premium. An angry parent, we'll say two
and sixpence; sorrowful, three shillings; "deeply afflicted and bound
to weep," five shillings.

A widowed mother, in good weeds, one and sixpence; do, do, in a cab,
half a crown; and so on.

How many are there besides who, not actually in the condition we speak
of, would be delighted to avail themselves of the benefits of this
institution. How many moving in the society of the west end, with a
father a tobacconist or a cheesemonger in the city, would gladly pay
well for a fashionable parent supposed to live upon his estate in
Yorkshire, or entertaining, as the _Morning Post_ has it, a
"distinguished party at his shooting lodge in the Highlands." What a
luxury, when dining his friends at the Clarendon, to be able to talk
o