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INTRODUCTORY
Whenever any thing in the
least degree promising novelty, or tending to innovation is aimed at in
the world, particularly within the well-warded territories of literature
; it is reasonably expected that some plea shall be offered for thus
impertinently swerving from the good old beaten tract of imitation.
In accounting then for our present conduct, in putting forth a
publication of the lighter sort, which is meant to differ as well from
the numerous race of pretty picture-books of winter, with their
lady-like poetry, and their refined romance, as from the general
performances of our novelists,—wherein, by great art and pains-taking,
and often sorely against the will both of reader and hero, they contrive
to draw out the lengthened sweetness of those valuable productions, to
the exact measure of bibliopolical prescription—never were men more
fortunate than we, for we have to bring forward in our favour no less a
personage than the great goddess of Fashion herself, who, in these
innovating times, hath decidedly pointed her autocratic finger in the
very direction which we have obediently taken.
This omnipotent regulator of the great concerns of literature and
millinery, then, this mistress of the ceremonies even to politics and
religion, having first set up a series of magnificent palaces at the
western end of our metropolis, under the name of Club Houses, and caused
to associate together into them, numerous bodies of worthy men who have
little to do; next in the course of the clubbing fever which naturally
followed, threw her' handkerchief in the most inviting manner to all
persons ambitious of being considered literary, and said to them, in a
voice of potency, if not of thunder, "go ye and do likewise.” How far
the mandate of our great ruler has been obeyed in the letter, by the
setting up of an additional Club, with a literary title, it does not
perhaps become us strictly to inquire. A higher power even than Fashion
herself—namely, that irresistible spirit of improvement which seems now
abroad in the world, hath revealed to us and to all men (who, blessed
with that recondite degree of penetration, elegantly termed the
possession of half an eye, are disposed to look into the tendencies of
things.) that it is now time it should be obeyed in the spirit, for
reasons applying both to literary men and to the world, which are too
grave as well as numerous to be here entered upon. Be that, however, as
it may, this peculiar tendency of our time—this increasing spirit of
segregation and of union, both at home and abroad, of which it were well
that our men of talent engaged in literature more generally partook,
hath furnished the collector and part writer of the following pieces,
with that necessary desideratum, a tolerably suitable title, under which
the whole may be appropriately presented to the public.
Upon the subject of the clubs and all that pertains to them, however, we
would willingly, were it at all expedient, take the present opportunity
of saying a few words. Not that we ourselves have any such inconvenient
discernment, as to see evil in a thing that is decidedly in fashion, so
long as the fashion is fairly supported by the goddess. But considering
ourselves bound on all occasions to take the part of the ladies, it hath
been put into our heads, to offer on their parts on this occasion a few
words of gentle expostulation, with the honourable members of these
great establishments.
It is well known, that since the clubs have come in, marriage has
entirely gone out. The reason is obvious. How can young men of moderate
fortunes be expected to confine themselves to an ordinary establishment
and plain English fare, when for a tythe of the expense, they can live
in a palace and enjoy every sort of luxury? How can it be expected that
a gentleman should marry for the old-fashioned motives of comfort and
society, when the clubs and their appendages, supply all this at a tenth
of the cost? What is the consequence? Marriage is completely at a stand!
White favours, special licences, and honey-moons are almost forgotten.
The spinsters increase on every side, and even the few married men now
alive and getting old, have entirely deserted their own homes, to live,
habit, and repute at their Club House! What is the world to do? Are the
ladies to betake themselves to nunneries, according to the project of
Lady Mary Wortley Montague, who, like other advice-givers, was, as we
all know, particularly inclined to that nunnish life which she once
strongly recommended to others ? Something must be done. In these
reforming times, the ladies must have a reform of their own. Already
they cry out for it loudly, whenever they meet. Nay, they are beginning,
among themselves, to talk absolute radicalism in regard to the clubs,
and be they rotten-boroughs, or be they close-boroughs, the men say they
“ must not be suffered to burrow, 'so constantly about these luxurious
establishments, or if they do there is no hope for us.” We have heard of
several projects being in actual discussion to bring marriage again into
fashion, which it would neither be wise nor delicate in us here to
broach. Now all this may be laughed at by some, and sport to the
Malthusians,—but it is death to the ladies!
Grievous as this matter must doubtless be to many of that interesting
sex for whom, we would stand up against any, the most decided,
improvement in which they are not included, we have the satisfaction to
think that no such objection can be urged against our simple arrange^
ment. Clubbing of wits,—or different individuals telling a series of
tales in one book,—is too intellectual an exercise to have any serious
effect in putting a stop to matrimony. At least we should hope so ; for
so it happens that every one of us are married men, and it is generally
found in the world that those who are in any trouble themselves, are
quite pleased to see as many as possible inveigled into similar
circumstances.
But not to predicate anything upon this matter, we cannot avoid adding a
grave word upon the subject of a favourite project of ours . namely,,
the association together as much as possible of men of talent and
character, who are professionally engaged in literary pursuits. We know
it is in the nature of man, that those divided into their respective
coteries of sociality, or throughout the connections of biblio-polical
competition, should be ready to say, “ I am of Paul, and I of Apollos,”
&c., and so bend their minds to all the littlenesses of detraction and
opposition. Yet among other orders of men, whose labours have less to do
with the world at large, we have heard of such a thing as an esprit du
corps, which accomplished much good and obviated much evil; and we
imagine we see something in the near distance,—even in England, where
men of letters are comparatively neglected,—which promises that not long
hence they will be disposed voluntarily to say, like the two kings of
Israel, “Come and let us look one another in the face.”
Whether, however, he has any prophetic discernment or not, the Editor of
the following tales, &c., has dreamed in his moments of sanguine
speculation, of the many advantages both public and personal, which
might arise from the friendly association of those who have much to do
with that great modern power, public opinion. But this is not the place
to speak further upon so grave a subject; and doubtless he who indulges
himself with the penning of these sentiments, and who has made * that
beginning in literary association which may be implied in this friendly
collection, is not worthy to keep a door to a club of real savantes, yet
in all matters of private pursuit or public spirit, it is wonderful what
a love for any thing, and an occasional gleam of sanguine enthusiasm
will, by perseverance, effect.
But we feel we are taking a liberty with the public, for which our
respected constituents have given us no express authority ; so, to end
our introduction, we would only further in their name say to the
good-natured reader, though the following stories are comparatively but
trifles, yet considering the difficulty in the present hackneyed state
of this sort of literature, of writing short tales which may obtain the
attention of those who have not leisure or taste for three-volume
undertaking, you will please to believe that we have done our best as a
first offer for your amusement, both as to interest and variety. To
conclude, then, this friendly parley with the reader, we would * further
say to her or him, in the manner of the older authors,—“ gentle men, and
gentler maidens—dames ever fair and ever fascinating, who read tales of
love, because for it ye were formed, and smile or sigh as your feelings
are affected, because form and feeling are your most engaging
attributes—also critics stern, penetrating and severe, with spectacle on
nose and snuff at elbow,—sit down all when you are in an amiable humour,
and when reading is no toil, but a mental relaxation, and be pleased if
you can with our Club-Book.”
Volume 1 | Volume 2 |
Volume 3
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