The description given by Addision, in of the early numbers of the of the origin of clubs, may have been coloured to raise a laugh, but it doubtless affords a clue to the nature of the clubs existing a century and a quarter ago:

Man is said to be a social animal, and as an instance of it we may observe, that we take all occasions and pretences of forming ourselves into those little naeturnal assemblies which are commonly known by the name of clubs. When a set of men find themselves agree in any particular, though never so trivial, they establish themselves into a kind of fraternity, and meet once or twice a week upon the account of such a fantastic resemblance. I knew a considerable markettown in which there was a club of fat men, that did not come together (as you may well suppose) to entertain

one

another with sprightliness and wit, but to keep

one

another in countenance. The room where the club met was something of the largest, and had

two

entrances, the

one

by a door of a moderate size and the other by a pair of folding-doors. If a candidate for this corpulent club could

make his entrance through the

first

, he was looked upon as unqualified; but if he stuck in the passage and could not force his way through it, the folding-doors were immediately thrown open for his reception, and he was saluted as a brother. I have heard that this club, though it consisted of but

fifteen

persons, weighed above

three

tons.

The Isaac Bickerstaffs and Will Honeycombs of Anne's reign introduce us to many clubs, in which oddity, good fellowship, and eating and drinking seem to have gone hand in hand. Thus the Beef-steak club and the October club convey in their names sufficient indication that the genius of good living was worshipped by the members. The

Kit-Cat Club

Kit-cat size.

When we come down to a later period of the last century, to the days of Johnson, of Goldsmith, of Reynolds, of Burke, and of other bright names in the intellectual world, we find clubs still existing, or starting into existence, among men removed from the humble stations of society ;--but still widely different from the clubs of our own day. They were clubs, not for exclusive orders of society or exclusive professions, not for breakfasts, dinners, and suppers, but attractive foci or centres, to which orators, poets, statesmen, painters, and composers tended. Of the general nature of such a club we may meet with abundant evidence in Boswell, or in such a paragraph as the following, from Prior's

Life of Goldsmith:

In order to increase the opportunities of social intercourse between persons formed to delight general society and each other, the

Literary Club

was formed; a name not assumed by themselves, but given to the association by others, from the talents and celebrity of its individual members. The proposers were Johnson and Reynolds, who selected Burke, Goldsmith, Mr. Topham Beauclerk, Mr. Langton, Sir John Hawkins, and Dr. Nugent (a physician, and father of Mrs. Burke) as associates; to whom, in consequence of the frequent absence of Mr. Beauclerk and Sir John Hawkins, were added Mr. Chamier and Mr. Dyer: the former Under Secretary-at-War and well known in the

first

circles of London; the latter a man of general erudition, a friend of the Burkes, and formerly a Commissary in the army. They agreed to sup together every Monday evening, afterwards changed to Friday, at the

Turk's Head,

in

Gerrard Street

, Soho.

What were the precise steps by which the clubs of the Johnson era gave way to those of the present day, need not be catalogued :--war, commercial enterprise, manufacturing invention, education-all have acted a part in bringing about social changes which have affected clubs as well as other institutions. The clubs of the working men do not come within the scope of the present

Carlton Club

Conservative Club,

Reform Club,

White's

Brookes's,

United Service,

Junior United Service,

Guards,

University

Oxford and Cambridge

Travellers

Atheneum,

But it is in reference to their hotel-like regulations that we chiefly notice these clubs here. Every member, when elected by ballot, pays an entrance fee, and afterwards an annual subscription, for which he has the full use of all the advantages afforded by the club-house. Then all the refreshments which he .has, whether breakfast, dinner, supper, wine, or any other kind, are furnished to him , all the other expenses of the system being defrayed out of the annual subscriptions. Perhaps we cannot do better than describe the working of this system in the words of the late Mr. Walker, in his

Original:

One

of the greatest and most important modern changes in society is the present system of clubs. The facilities of living have been wonderfully increased by them in many ways, whilst the expense has been greatly diminished. For a few pounds a-year, advantages are to be enjoyed which no fortunes except the most ample can procure. I can best illustrate this by a particular instance. The only club I belong to is the

Atheneum,

which consists of

twelve hundred

members, amongst whom are to be reckoned a large proportion of the most eminent persons in the land, in every line--civil, military, and ecclesiastical, peers spiritual and temporal (

ninety-five

noblemen and

twelve

bishops), commoners, men of the learned professions, those connected with science, the arts, and commerce, in all its principal branches, as well as the distinguished who do not belong to any particular class. Many of these are to be met with every day, living with the same freedom as at their own houses. For

six

guineas a year every member has the command of an excellent library, with maps, the daily papers, English and foreign, the principal periodicals, and every material for writing, with attendance for whatever is wanted. The building is a sort of

palace, and is kept with the same exactness and comfort as a private dwelling. Every member is a master, without any of the trouble of a master. He can come when he pleases, and stay away as long as he pleases, without anything going wrong. He has the command of regular servants, without having to pay or to manage them. He can have whatever meal or refreshment he wants, at all hours, and served up with the cleanliness and comfort of his own house. He orders just what he pleases, having no interest to think of but his own. In short, it is impossible to suppose a greater degree of liberty in living. Clubs, as far as my observation goes, are favourable to economy of time. There is a fixed place to go to; everything is served with comparative expedition, and it is not customary or general, to remain long at table. They are favourable to temperance. It seems that when people can freely please themselves, and when they have an opportunity of living simply, excess is seldom committed. From an account I have, of the expenses at the

Athenaeum

in the year

1832

, it appears that

17,323

dinners cost, on the average,

2s.

9

,d. each; and that the average quantity of wine for each person was a small fraction more than half a pint.

Since Walker wrote the essays which constitute his very clever has been enriched by a club-house surpassing all the others in magnificence and grandeur. This--the -more resembles an Italian palace than any other building in London, with the single exception, perhaps, of the Banquetipg House at . The area covered by the building is very large; the parts present faqades of great architectural beauty; and the interior fittings are appropriately splendid. But it is to the economy of the establishment, as a place of refreshment, that our attention will be chiefly drawn here. The Club-whose name sufficiently denotes the recent period of its formation, and the political tenets of its members-consists of about noblemen and gentlemen, who, by entrance fees and annual payments, maintain this magnificent establishment. The payments are now, guineas as an entrance-fee, and guineas annual subscription. For these payments each member has the use of dining and drawing rooms, billiard-rooms, library, news-rooms, reading-rooms, baths, &c.; and he may, at all hours of the day, have any kind of meal or refreshment.

In all these matters the Reform Club very closely resembles the other distinguished clubs at the West End: but it is by the possession of its famous that this club has gained a peculiar notoriety; a kitchen which baffles the conception of those who are accustomed only to ordinary culinary arrangements. The is M. Alexis Soyer, whose occupation is that of chief cook to the club, and whose invention the general arrangement of the kitchen seems to have been. The gastronomic art, certainly, never before had so many scientific appliances at its disposal. We have seen many large factories, where furnaces and boilers are largely employed; but, with single exception, we know of none which can rival this kitchen in the arrangements for . The arrangement is somewhat as follows:--

The kitchen, properly so called, is an apartment of moderate size, surrounded on all sides by smaller rooms, which form the pastry, the poultry, the

steaming,

If we go to the adjacent rooms from the central kitchen, we find that-so effectually is heat economized-all are cool, and fitted to the object for which they are intended. In small room the butchers' meat is kept, chopped, cut, and otherwise prepared for the kitchen. In the pastry all the appliances for making the good things which its name indicates are conveniently arranged around. In another room there are drawers, in the bottoms of which a stratum of ice is laid; above this a light covering; and above this such small articles of undressed food as require to be kept perfectly cool.

To tell how bright the pots and the pans and the cups are, and how scrupulously clean is every part of the range of rooms, and how quietly and systematically everything is conducted, and how neat are all the persons employed therein--is more than we can attempt; but the system of operations between the cooks and the consumers pertains so closely to our present object, that it must be noticed. In corner of the kitchen is a little compartment or counting-house, at a desk in which sits the

clerk of the kitchen.

bill of fare

bill of fare,

serving-up.

If now we leave clubs, professedly so called, and notice the of different periods, we find that they have not altered quite so much in their character; for a tavern at the present day, as well as a century ago, is a place where almost all kind of refreshments may be procured. And yet there is sufficient difference observable at different periods. The taverns were formerly distinguished each for its particular class of visitors; and though no formal subscription seems to have been paid, yet it would appear that a sort of ballot decided the introduction of a new visitor to the social circle. Thus, Colley Cibber says that a sort of interest and introduction was necessary before he could make among the visitors at Wills's in Govent Garden. Here the acknowledged wits and poets of the day met. The politicians met at the St. James's Coffee House, from which many of the political articles in the were dated. Many men of education were wont to meet each other at the

Grecian

chocolate-houses

The modern taverns, with some few exceptions, are either downright publichouses, or else they combine the qualities of inns and provide accommodations for the traveller or the temporary visitor to London. Indeed the terms tavern, hotel, and inn, are not easily distinguishable in London. All taken together are about in number; while the public-houses amount to about times as many. Some of the hotels are analogous to furnished apartments, where families or gentlemen may take up their abode temporarily or for a continuance; and where all are admitted whose appearance and purses are adequate.

Long's,

Warren's,

Mivart's,

fashionable arrivals

fashionable departures,

Gloucester Coffee House,

White Horse Cellar,

Saracen's Head,

put up

Hummums,

Tavistock,

It is when we descend to the middle and humble classes of society, and to those who reside continuously in London, that the details respecting refreshmenthouses become most worthy of note, because such details furnish a more exact index to the social condition of large bodies of men. We may put such a question as this-How do those commercial and working men, who take but few meals at their own homes, procure their breakfast, and dinner, and tea; and into what society--are--they thrown? The answer to this question takes us at once to the

dining-rooms,

eating-houses,

chop-houses,

the..

alamode-beef houses,

oyster-rooms,

coffee-houses,

The allusions to London houses of refreshment, in past times, evidently relate to liquid rather than to solid food--to the

.flowing tankard

generous bottle;

The several craftsmen, the several sellers of wares, and workmen for hire, all are distinguished every morning by themselves, in their places as well as trades. Besides, there is in London upon the

river's bank

a public place of cookery, among the wines to be sold in the ships, and in the wine-cellars. There every day ye may call for any dish of meat, roast, fried, or sodden; fish both small and great; ordinary flesh for the poorer sort, and more dainty for the rich, as venison and fowl. If friends come upon a sudden, wearied with travel, to a citizen's house, and they be loth to wait for curious preparations and dressings of fresh meat, let the servants give them water to wash, and bread to stay their stomach, and in the mean time they run to the waterside, where all things that can be desired are at hand. Whatsoever multitude of soldiers, or other strangers, enter into the City at any hour of the day or night, or else are about to depart; they may turn in, bait here, and refresh themselves to their content, and so avoid long fasting, and not go away without their dinner. If any desire to set their dainty tooth; they take a goose; they need not to long for the fowl of Africa; no, not the

rare gadwit of Ionia. This is the public cookery, and very convenient for the state of a city, and belongs to it, Hence it is we read in Plato's

Gorgias,

that next to the physician's art is the trade of cooks, the image and flattery of the

fourth

part of a city.

Then again, Lydgate, who wrote his in the half of the century, gives stanzas which may be worth quoting:--

Then to Westminster gate I presently went, When the sun was at high prime; Cooks tome they took good intent, And proffered me bread, with ale and wine, Ribs of beef, both fat and full fine; A fair cloth they 'gan for to spread, But, wanting money, I might not be sped.

Then I hied me unto Eastcheap: One cries ribs of beef, and many a pie; Pewter pots they clatter'd in a heap; There was harp, pipe, and minstrelsy; Yea, by cock! nay, by cock! some began cry; Some sung of Jenkyn and Julyan for their meed, But, for lack of money, I might not speed.

for lack of money,

Minstrels

The fortunes of Roderick Random and his companion Strap show that, in Smollett's time, there were in London attended as eating-houses, down which many a man was wont to

dive for a dinner.

He accordingly carried us to a certain lane, where stopping, he bid us observe him, and do as he did; and, walking a few paces, dived into a cellar, and disappeared in an instant. I followed his example, and descended very successfully, where I found myself in the middle of a cook's-shop, almost suffocated with the steams of boiled beef, and surrounded by a company consisting chiefly of hackney-coachmen, chairmen, draymen, and a few footmen out of place or on board-wages, who sat eating shinof-beef, tripe, cow-heel, or sausages, at separate boards, covered with cloths which turned my stomach. While I stood in amaze, undetermined whether to sit down or walk upwards again, Strap, in his descent, missing

one

of the steps, tumbled headlong into this infernal ordinary, and overturned the cook as she was carrying a porringer of soup to

one

of the guests. In her fall she dashed the whole mess against the legs of a drummer belonging to the foot-guards, who happened to be in her way.

It is probable that itinerant piemen, such as Hogarth gives to the life, have for centuries formed class of London characters, and that various other eatables, and drinkables too, have been vended about in a similar manner, time out of mind; but by what steps the modern cook's-shop, or eating-house, has reached its present condition, it is not perhaps easy to say. There are, it appears, about places in London which can fittingly come under the denomination of eating-houses, occupying a place between the hotels on the hand and the coffee-rooms on the other. At all of these places joints of meat are dressed every day, depending for variety on the extent of business done, but generally including boiled beef and roast beef, as well as the necessary appendages for the formation of a dinner. In some of these houses the quantity of meat dressed in a week is quite enormous; and it seems pretty evident that the greater the sale the better the quality of the articles sold-or perhaps we may take it in an inverse order, that the excellence of the provisions has led to the extent of the custom.

Some of these dining-rooms are the scenes of bustle during only a few hours of the day; while others, either from the extent of their trade, or the different classes of their visitors, present a never-ceasing picture of'eating and drinking. Some, such as a celebrated house in , are frequented almost entirely by commercial men and City clerks, who, during a few hours in the day, flock in by hundreds. Then again others, such as Williams's boiled-beef shop in the , and a few in the neighbourhood of , are frequented almost entirely by-lawyers' clerks, witnesses, and others engaged in the law or criminal courts.- In all such cases there is a

best

sixpenny plate.

It is observable that in some houses the waiter gives the diner a long detail of the good things which are

just ready,

bill of fare

Chronicle.

Roast beef, boiled beef, roast haunch of mutton, boiled pork, roast veal and ham, salmon and shrimp-sauce, pigeon-pie, rump-steak pudding.

Colombian Bonds,

Meat

8d.

, potatoes

1d.

, bread

1d.

, cheese

1d.

,

At the alamode-beef houses the routine--is still more rapid. Here a visitor takes his seat, and the waiter places before him a knife, a fork, and a spoon; and gives him the choice among sundry lumps of bread kept in an open basket. Meanwhile the visitor asks for a

sixpenny plate ;

two

sixes and a

four

;

two

sixes and a

four

,

There is a lower class of soup-houses, where persons to whom sixpence is even too much for a dinner may obtain wherewithal to dine. Whoever has had to walk through , , or down the northern side of HolbornIHill, may have seen shops, in the windows of which a goodly array of blue and white basins is displayed, and from which emanate abundant clouds of odour-giving steam. Around the windows, too, a crowd of hungry mortals assemble on a cold day, and partake (in imagination) of the enticing things within. A poor fellow, all in tatters, with a countenance which speaks strongly of privation, gazes eagerly through the window at what is going on within, and thinks how rich a man must be who can afford to pay twopence or threepence for

a basin of prime soup, potatos, and a slice of bread ;

The

chop-houses

sixpenny

ninepenny

Two

muttons to follow?

At most of the respectable eating and chop houses it is a pretty general custom to give a penny or twopence to the waiter when the

reckoning

He has no feeling of noise, but as the sound of dining, or of silence, but as a thing before dinner. Even a loaf with him is hardly a loaf; it is so many

breads.

His longest speech is the making out of a bill

viva voce

-

Two beefs-one potatoes-three ales-two wines-six and twopence,

--which he does with an indifferent celerity, amusing to new comers who have been relishing their fare, and not considering it as a mere set of items.

Many houses have what is termed in France a , or in England an ; that is, a dinner ready for all comers at a fixed hour in the day, and at a fixed charge. The host determines on the choice of good things to constitute the bill of fare; and the diner partakes of such as may best accord with his palate. Some of these places are attended day after day by nearly the same persons, while others see a constant succession of new faces. There is such house near or in , celebrated for the excellence of the , which forms a component part of the cheer; and which is, on this account, much frequented by the connoisseurs in fish. Nay, we have heard that so far does the demand for table-room exceed the supply, that the

knowing ones

Besides the dining-rooms and chop-houses, properly so called, there are many places where a man can get a dinner by a sort of indirect arrangement. Not to

Some of these houses are celebrated for the.

fine old cheese,

baked potatoes,

mutton pies,

sheeps' trotters,

sheeps' heads,

pigs' faces,

faggots,

Let us next direct our attention to the remarkable features presented by the coffee-rooms and coffee-shops of London. These differ from the places hitherto noticed principally in the kind of beverage supplied, but partly in other matters likewise, which present points of considerable interest.

The coffee-house established in the vicinity of London is said to have been the so-called

Don Saltero's Coffee-house,

Tatler.

In the time of Addison and Steele, besides the coffee-houses and chocolatehouses which were attended by the gay and the rich, there was a

floating coffee-house

Throughout the eighteenth century coffee-houses were abundant in London; but they more nearly resembled taverns than the modern coffee-shops: they were beyond the reach of the humbler classes. About or years ago, when coffee was, for a temporary period, enormously dear, a beverage called

On the , the directed a Committee to inquire into the operation of the Import Duties; and in the Report which the Committee made to the House on the in the same year many curious details occur respecting coffee-houses, coffee-house keepers, and the class of persons who frequent coffee-houses. The evidence arose out of the consideration of the duty upon coffee; but it involves statistical details of a highly curious character, and closely connected with the subject of our paper.

On of the days of meeting, coffee-house keepers, residing in as many different parts of London, gave evidence before the Committee. It was there stated, by Mr. Humphreys, that the gradual increase of coffee-houses in London may be estimated at nearly a per annum; that years ago there were not above or coffee-houses (of the kind now under consideration) in the metropolis; but that they had since increased to or eighteen . The following are of the questions put to Mr. Humphreys, and the answers given to them:--

Has the charge for coffee, to the consumer, been reduced, in consequence of this competition (between rival coffee-house keepers)?

Very materially. About

twenty-five

years ago there was scarcely a house in London where you could get any coffee under sixpence a cup, or threepence a cup; there are now coffee-houses open at from

one

penny up to threepence. There are many houses where the charge is

one

penny, where they have

seven

or

eight hundred

persons in a day. There is Mr. Pamphilon, who charges

three

halfpence per cup; and he has from

fifteen

to

sixteen hundred

persons a day.

It is the particular beverage that you sell which is the great attraction to

the persons that come to your house?

Yes; I have; on the average,

four

to

five hundred

persons that frequent my house daily; they are mostly lawyers' clerks and commercial men; some of them are managing clerks, and there are many solicitors likewise, highly respectable gentlemen, who take coffee in the middle of the day, in preference to a more stimulating drink. I have often asked myself the question, where all that number of persons could possibly have got their refreshment prior to opening my house. There were taverns in the neighbourhood, but no coffee-house, nor anything that afforded any accommodation of the nature I now give them; and I found that a place of business like mine was so sought for by the public, that shortly after I opened it I was obliged to increase my premises in every way I could; and at the present moment, besides a great number of newspapers every day, I am compelled to take in the highest class of periodicals. For instance, we have

eight

or

nine

quarterly publications, averaging from

four shillings

to

six shillings

each; and we are constantly asked for every new work that has come out. I find there is an increasing taste for a better class of reading. When I

first

went into business, many of my customers were content with the lower-priced periodicals; but I find, as time progresses, that the taste is improving, and they look out now for a better class of literature.

There are other places, more generally designated

coffee-shops,

Does a man come there and get his breakfast?

Yes; he comes in the morning at

four

o'clock and has a cup of coffee, and a thin slice of bread and butter, and for that he pays lId.; and then again at

eight

, for his breakfast, he has a cup of coffee, a penny loaf, and a pennyvorth of butter, which is

3d.

; and at dinner time, instead of going to a public-house, at

one

o'clock he comes in again, and has his coffee and his bread, and brings his own meat. I do not cook for any

one

.

Another feature strikes the observer, in glancing over the evidence given before this Committee, viz., that the coffee-rooms have in many cases become also , and not merely places where breakfast or tea is taken. Mr. Humphreys stated that latterly the coffee-house keepers have been compelled to sell meat ready cooked. Persons became so desirous of having their meals in houses of this description, that they have gradually got into the habit of dining there, as well as of purchasing the beverage for which the houses were originally established.

I now sell,

about

three

cwt. of cold ham and meat every week. I was

first

compelled to sell it by persons going to a

cook's shop, and buying their meat, and bringing it in and asking me for a plate; and I found it a matter of some little trouble without any profit. It occurred to me that I might as well cook; and I have myself now, in consequence of that, a business during the whole of the day. A number of gentlemen come in and have a plate of beef for

4d.

, a cup of coffee for

2d.

, and a loaf of bread; and for

6d.

or

7d.

they have what is for them a good breakfast. In fact, a gentleman may come to my house and have as good a breakfast for

8d.

as he can have in any hotel for ls.

6d.

The cigar-divans and chess-rooms are modifications of the coffee-room. They are for those who require something more than coffee and reading, and yet at the same time wish to have those luxuries. The owners of these rooms are not so much accustomed to supply meals as evening refreshment. Your true chessplayer can sit many hours without eating or drinking largely: his

checking,

castling

,

mating,

fine Havannah

In closing this paper we must not forget the old woman who serves hot coffee to the coachmen and labourers at in the morning; or the

Baked tato

Ham-sandwich

Ham-sandwiches, only a penny!

[n.306.1] Spectator, No, ix.

[n.308.1] The Original, by T. Walker, No. xvii., 1835.

[n.317.1] Report of the Import Duties Committee, p. 209.