So he lunches and dines, dines and lunches, till the sands of the hourglass have run out, and the moment comes for him to enter that great club of which all humanity must perforce become members.
A few questions will be asked in the club as to his end, his fortune or lack of fortune; his witticisms will linger for a while, and his good or bad points be discussed; but in a year or so he will become as completely forgotten as if he had never been.
As London clubs began to multiply, their gradual increase drew away most of the sporting men from the old hostelries which at one time it had been the fashion to frequent. Theodore Hook alluded to this in some humorous lines:
“If any man loves comfort, and has little cash to buy it, he
Should get into a crowded club—a most select society;
While solitude and mutton cutlets serve infelix uxor, he
May have his club (like Hercules), and revel there in luxury.
“Yes, clubs knock houses on the head; e’en Hatchett’s can’t demolish them;
Joy grieves to see their magnitude, and Long longs to abolish them.
The inns are out; hotels for single men scarce can keep alive on it;