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Clubs and social meetings.

Desire of Country Gentlemen for Town Associations—­Book Clubs—­Too much of literary Character expected from them—­Literary Conversation prevented; by Feasting, by Cards—­Good, notwithstanding, results—­ Card Club with Eagerness resorted to—­Players—­Umpires at the Whist Table—­Petulances of Temper there discovered—­Free and Easy Club; not perfectly easy or free—­Freedom, how interrupted—­The superior Member—­Termination of the Evening—­Drinking and Smoking Clubs—­The Midnight Conversation of the delaying Members—­Society of the poorer Inhabitants; its Use; gives Pride and Consequence to the humble Character—­Pleasant Habitations of the frugal Poor—­Sailor returning to his Family—­Freemasons’ Club—­The Mystery—­What its Origin—­Its professed Advantages—­Griggs and Gregorians—­A kind of Masons—­ Reflections on these various Societies.

You say you envy in your calm retreat
Our social Meetings;—­’tis with joy we meet. 
In these our parties you are pleased to find
Good sense and wit, with intercourse of mind;
Composed of men who read, reflect, and write,
Who, when they meet, must yield and share delight. 
To you our Book-club has peculiar charm,
For which you sicken in your quiet farm;
Here you suppose us at our leisure placed,
Enjoying freedom, and displaying taste: 
With wisdom cheerful, temperately gay,
Pleased to enjoy, and willing to display. 
   If thus your envy gives your ease its gloom,
Give wings to fancy, and among us come. 
We’re now assembled; you may soon attend —
I’ll introduce you—­“Gentlemen, my friend.” 
   “Now are you happy? you have pass’d a night
In gay discourse, and rational delight.” 
   “Alas! not so:  for how can mortals think,
Or thoughts exchange, if thus they eat and drink? 
No!  I confess when we had fairly dined,
That was no time for intercourse of mind;
There was each dish prepared with skill t’invite,
And to detain the struggling appetite;
On such occasions minds with one consent
Are to the comforts of the body lent;
There was no pause—­the wine went quickly round,
Till struggling Fancy was by Bacchus bound;
Wine is to wit as water thrown on fire,
By duly sprinkling both are raised the higher;
Thus largely dealt, the vivid blaze they choke,
And all the genial flame goes off in smoke.” 
   “But when no more your boards these loads contain,
When wine no more o’erwhelms the labouring brain,
But serves, a gentle stimulus; we know
How wit must sparkle, and how fancy flow.” 
It might be so, but no such club-days come;
We always find these dampers in the room: 
If to converse were all that brought us here,
A few odd members would in turn appear;
Who, dwelling nigh, would saunter in and out,
O’erlook the list, and toss the books about;
Or yawning read them, walking up and down,