CLUBS.

It may be expected, from the title of this chapter, that I shall

introduce a set of ruffians armed with missive weapons; or, having named

a trump, a set of gamblers shuffling and dealing out the cards: But

whatever veneration I may entertain for these two fag ends of our

species, I shall certainly introduce a class of people, which, though of

the lower orders, are preferable to both.

Social compact is a distinguishing mark of civilization: The whole

British empire may be justly considered as one grand alliance, united

for public and private interest, and this vast body of people are

subdivided into an infinity of smaller fraternities, for

individual benefit.

Perhaps there are hundreds of these societies in Birmingham under the

name of clubs; some of them boast the antiquity of a century, and by

prudent direction have acquired a capital, at accumulating interest.

Thousands of the inhabitants are thus connected, nay, to be otherwise is

rather unfashionable, and some are people of sentiment and property.

A variety of purposes are intended by these laudable institutions, but

the principal one is that of supporting the sick.

Each society is governed by a code of laws of its own making, which have

at least the honour of _resembling_ those of legislature, for words

without sense are found in both, and we sometimes stumble upon

contradiction.

The poor's-rates, enormous as they appear, are softened by these

brotherly aids. They tend also to keep the mind at rest, for a man will

enjoy the day of health, with double relish, when he considers he has a

treasure laid up for that of sickness.

If a _member_ only of a poor family be sick, the _head_ still remains to

procure necessaries; but if that head be disordered, the whole source of

supply is dried up, which evinces the utility of such institutions.

The general custom is to meet at the public every fortnight, spend a

trifle, and each contribute six-pence, or any stated sum, to the common

stock. The landlord is always treasurer, or father, and is assisted by

two stewards, annually or monthly chosen.

As honour and low life are not always found together, we sometimes see a

man who is rather _idle_, wish the society may suppose him _sick_, that

he may rob them with more security. Or, if a member hangs long upon the

box, his brethren seek a pretence to expel him. On the other hand, we

frequently observe a man silently retreat from the club, if another

falls upon the box, and fondly suppose himself no longer a member; or if

the box be loaded with sickness, the whole club has been known to

dissolve, that they may rid themselves of the burthen; but the Court of

Requests finds an easy remedy for these evils, and at a

trifling expence.

The charity of the club, is also extended beyond the grave, and

terminates with a present to the widow.

The philosophers tell us, "There is no good without its kindred evil."

This amiable body of men, therefore, marshalled to expel disease, hath

one small alloy, and perhaps but one. As liquor and labour are

inseparable, the imprudent member is apt to forget to quit the club

room when he has spent his necessary two-pence, but continues there to

the injury of his family.

Another of these institutions is the _rent club_, where, from the weekly

sums deposited by the members, a sop is regularly served up twice a

year, to prevent the growlings of a landlord.

In the _breeches club_ every member ballots for a pair, value a guinea,

_promised_ of more value by the maker. This club dissolves when all the

members are served.

The intentions of the _book club_ are well known, to catch the

productions of the press as they rise.

The _watch club_ has generally a watchmaker for its president, is

composed of young men, and is always temporary.

If a taylor be short of employment, he has only to consult a landlord

over a bottle, who, by their joint powers, can give birth to a _cloaths

club_; where every member is supplied with a suit to his taste, of a

stipulated price. These are chiefly composed of batchelors, who wish to

shine in the eye of the fair.

Thus a bricklayer stands at the head of the _building club_, where every

member perhaps subscribes two guineas per month, and each house, value

about one hundred pounds, is balloted for, as soon as erected. As a

house is a weighty concern, every member is obliged to produce two

bondsmen for the performance of covenants.

I will venture to pronounce another the _capital club_, for when the

contributions amount to 50_l_. the members ballot for this capital, to

bring into business: Here also securities are necessary. It is easy to

conceive the two last clubs are extremely beneficial to building and

to commerce.

The last I shall enumerate is the _clock club_: When the weekly deposits

of the members amount to about 4_l_. they call lots who shall be first

served with a clock of that value, and continue the same method till the

whole club is supplied; after which, the clockmaker and landlord cast

about for another set, who are chiefly composed of young house-keepers.

Hence the beginner ornaments his premises with furniture, the artist

finds employment and profit, and the publican empties his barrel.

Thus we have taken a transient survey of this rising colony of arts,

uniting observation with fact: We have seen her dark manufactures, in

darker times: We have attended her through her commercial, religious,

political, and pleasurable walks: Have viewed her in many points of

light, but never in decline; 'till we have now set her in the fair

sunshine of the present day.

Perhaps I shall not be charged with prolixity, that unpardonable sin

against the reader, when it is considered, that three thousand years are

deposited in the compass of one hundred and forty little pages.

Some other circumstances deserve attention, which could not be

introduced without breaking the thread of history: But as that thread is

now drawn to an end, I must, before I resume it, step back into the

recesses of time, and slumber through the long ages of seventeen hundred

years; if the active reader, therefore, has no inclination for a nod of

that length, or, in simple phrase, no relish for antiquity, I advise him

to pass over the five ensuing chapters.

An History of Birmingham (1783) · 第 63 / 155 题