"I must not omit to mention, amongst other obstacles to sociability, the present excessive breadth of fashionable tables, for the purpose of holding, first, the cumbrous ornaments and lights before spoken of; secondly, in some cases the dessert, at the same time with the side dishes; and, lastly, each person's cover, with its appurtenances; so that to speak across the table, and through the intervening objects, is so inconvenient as to be nearly impracticable. To crown all, is the ignorance of what you have to eat, and the impossibility of duly regulating your appetite. To be sure, in many particulars, you may form a tolerably accurate guess, as that, at one season, there will be partridges in the third course, and at another pigeons, in dull routine.

"No wonder that such a system produces many a dreary pause, in spite of every effort to the contrary, and that one is obliged, in self-defence, to crumble bread, sip wine, look at the paintings, if there are any, or, if there are not, blazon the arms on the plates; or, lastly, retreat into one's self in despair, as I have often and often done. When dinner is over, there is no peace till each dish in the dessert has made its circuit, after which the wine moves languidly round two or three times, and then settles for the rest of the evening, and coffee and small talk finish the heartless affair."

The writer, previously (in No. XV.), gives his views of an ideal dinner, which he seems to think perfection—

"I will give you, dear reader, an account of a dinner I have ordered this very day, at Lovegrove's at Blackwall, where, if you have never dined, so much the worse for you. This account will serve as an illustration of my doctrines on dinner-giving better than a long abstract discourse.

"The party will consist of seven men besides myself, and every guest is asked for some reason—upon which good fellowship mainly depends, for people brought together unconnectedly had, in my opinion, better be kept separate. Eight I hold to be the golden number, never to be exceeded without weakening the efficiency of concentration. The dinner is to consist of turtle, followed by no other fish but whitebait, which is to be followed by no other meat but grouse, which are to be succeeded by apple fritters and jelly; pastry on such occasions being quite out of place. With the turtle, of course, there will be punch, with the whitebait champagne, and with the grouse claret; the two former I have ordered to be particularly well iced, and they will all be placed in succession upon the table, so that we can help ourselves as we please. I shall permit no other wines, unless, perchance, a bottle or two of port, if particularly wanted, as I hold a variety of wines a great mistake. With respect to the adjuncts, I shall take care that there is cayenne, with lemons cut in halves, within reach of every one for the turtle, and that brown bread and butter in abundance is set upon the table for the whitebait. The dinner will be followed by ices and a good dessert, after which coffee and one glass of liqueur each and no more."

CHAPTER XXIV.

Clubs — Theatres — Other amusements — a foreigner's idea of London — London streets and noises — "Buy a broom?" girls.

How did the people amuse themselves? For men of the upper class there were clubs, which were nothing like so numerous as now. First of all comes White's, the doyen of all existing clubs—founded as a Chocolate House in 1698; then, in the next century, the still surviving clubs were Boodle's, Brooks', and Arthur's; while those of the present century are the Guards (1813), United Service, Travellers, Union, United University, Athenæum, Oriental, Junior United Service, Wyndham, and Oxford and Cambridge. In William the Fourth's reign the following came into existence: the Carlton and Garrick, 1831; the City of London, 1832; Reform, 1835; and the Army and Navy, 1837. These, it will be seen, are purely class clubs; the social clubs were generally held at some respectable tavern, and their names are as unknown now as their numbers.

There were fifteen theatres in London: (1) The King's Theatre or Italian Opera, (2) Drury Lane, (3) Covent Garden, (4) Haymarket, (5) English Opera or Lyceum Theatre, (6) Adelphi, (7) Olympic, (8) Astley's, (9) Surrey, (10) The Coburg (named after Prince Leopold) in Waterloo Road, now the Victoria, (11) Sadler's Wells, (12) City of London (defunct), in Shoreditch, (13) Queen's Theatre, Tottenham Street, Tottenham Court Road (now tenantless), (14) Pavilion, in Whitechapel, and (15) the Garrick, in Leman Street, Whitechapel, no longer used as a theatre. This latter was, on January 20, 1831, prosecuted at the Middlesex Sessions for being unlicensed. "Francis Wyman, Benjamin Conquest, and Charles John Freer, were indicted for having, on the 1st of December, and on divers days since, kept a house for dancing, music, and other like performances, called the Garrick Subscription Theatre, and situate within twenty miles of London, not having a licence obtained at the Michaelmas Quarter Sessions of the Peace for that County." The offence was proved, but the chairman ruled that the performance of music or dancing, as incidental to a play, or in an interval between the acts, did not constitute the keeping of a place for "performing music, dancing, and such like performances," within the meaning of the Act. The evidence showed this place was conducted as a theatre, and, as such, the parties were liable to be proceeded against under other Acts of Parliament, but he could not say they ought to be convicted under this. Not guilty. This little theatre was particularly recommended as closing by eleven o'clock—the performances at the others lasting till twelve or after.

The following notices as to the prices and commencement of performances of those which survive will be interesting for comparison with their present arrangements:—