your kind hospitality to-night, and after your reception of me this evening, I shall be able to inform my nephew that you are by no means the savages he might have imagined, but are as civilized as any gentlemen he may meet with."

It is not to be wondered at that, after so very pretty a speech as this, the popularity of the Prince of Wales in Bohemia waxed greater than ever. A year later the Prince visited the club again, and further exhibited his sympathy with the Savages by presiding at a soirée in the club rooms, at which Mr. Melton Prior, the accomplished special artist of the Illustrated London News, gave a lecture, with illustrations of scenes in the Egyptian war. On that occasion the Prince was presented with a sumptuous album containing the photographs and autographs of all the members, then about 250 in number, prepared for him at his special request, and in acknowledging the presentation he threw out a suggestion which brought about one of the most remarkable events in the history of the club. The Prince, it is well known, takes a warm interest in the Royal College of Music, and he seized the opportunity of his visit to the club to suggest, remembering what the Savages had done in former times, that they should get up an entertainment for the benefit of the institution in question. To speak more precisely, he proposed that the funds derived from such an entertainment should be devoted to the foundation of a musical scholarship in the name of the Savage Club, and for the education of the children of persons belonging to those professions which qualified for membership under its first rule. The proposal was accepted with acclamation, and eventually resulted in that magnificent costume ball at the Albert Hall in 1883, which was attended by about a dozen members of the Royal Family, including the Prince and Princess of Wales, and realized, if not enough money to found a scholarship, sufficient at any rate to establish an exhibition, which has already turned out one promising pupil, a son of the eminent violinist, Mr. Carrodus, a member of the club.

It may, indeed, fairly be said of the Savage Club festivities that, apart from their merely convivial character, they have usually had some purpose or raison d'être. If they have not been got up to promote any charitable work or public object, they have at least been designed as special acts of hospitality. The annual dinner, as we have seen, has often been made the occasion of doing honour to distinguished public men, and the more private entertainments have frequently been arranged for the congratulation of fellow-members on some notable success in their respective pursuits. At various times the club has feasted such eminent persons, besides those already mentioned, as Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein, the present Lord Chancellor, the Lord Chief Justice, the President of the Royal Academy, the United States Minister (Mr. James Russell Lowell), Lord Charles Beresford, Mr. H. M. Stanley, Ismail Pasha, and several representative colonists at the time of the Colonial and Indian Exhibition. Dinners

have also been given to many members who had achieved the distinction of election as Royal Academicians or Associates; to one member, Mr. Woodall, M.P., on the occasion of his appointment as Surveyor-General of Ordnance in her Majesty's Government; to Mr. Toole, to celebrate the commencement of his first undertaking in theatrical management; and more than once to members of the club who had acted as special correspondents or special artists in the Egyptian campaigns. An interesting memento of these festivities has usually been left in the shape of an illustrated menu, generally of a quaint, fantastic character, designed for the occasion by one of the many talented artists of the club, such as Mr. Harry Furniss, Mr. Herbert Johnson, Mr. Walter Wilson, and others. A collection of these curious sketches is carefully preserved, with other records, in the club's scrap-book.

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But conviviality is a plant of perennial growth in the Savage Club. All the year round, except in August and September, there is a House Dinner every Saturday night-simple enough, no doubt, as a feast, but supplemented by an entertainment or smoking concert of a very peculiar character. The chairman of the evening usually nominates his successor for the following week, and is otherwise invested with an absolute authority, symbolized by the quaint club-one of the many savage weapons or implements presented by travellers from distant lands-which he wields as his presidential hammer. He alone is allowed to address the company, and, as a rule, his functions are limited to the duties of calling upon members or visitors to take part in the entertainment and of making the one speech of the evening, which consists simply of the words, after the cloth has been removed : Gentlemen, you may smoke." Indeed, the standing law of the club at its ordinary House Dinners is, "No speeches;" but, now and again, when any particularly eminent guest, known to be a good speaker, chances to be present, this rule is relaxed, and the health of the distinguished person in question is toasted. As for the entertainment, it is of a curiously haphazard character. No preparation whatever is made for it. The chairman of the evening depends for the amusement of the company simply upon anybody or anything that may chance to "turn up." This impromptu performance is usually a success, as the club includes so many public performers of various kinds and also so many clever amateurs, that there is rarely any lack of "talent." Thus, from six or seven o'clock-the Savages have always dined early to suit the convenience of their theatrical members-until about midnight, there is an uninterrupted flow of musical and dramatic recital, besides other performances of the most miscellaneous kind. For the Savages are not at all particular as to the class of entertainment offered to them, so long as it is good of its sort, and the catholicity of their tastes leads to occasional surprises which give additional piquancy to the evening's pleasures. Not only music, vocal and instrumental, and recitations,

serious and humorous, but story-telling, conjuring, thought-reading, mesmerism, and every kind of eccentric exhibition, from that of the "lightning calculator" to that of the gentleman who gives a lecture with charcoal illustrations drawn upon the spot, have from time to time been included in the very comprehensive programme of the "Savage" Saturday night. As might be expected, the lighter side of the entertainer's art is, as a rule, the most prominent feature of these reunions, and it must in justice be admitted that no one ever complains of the liveliness of the proceedings. Indeed, many who have been present as visitors have been good enough to declare a really first-rate night at the Savage Club to be the brightest and most varied evening's amusement to be had in the world.

In business as in pleasure the Savages have ways of their own. Thus the process of electing members which prevails in this club differs in many respects from that in force elsewhere. The qualification for membership is that the candidate must be "professionally connected with literature, art, the drama, or science;" though now and again certain gentlemen who are proved to have done good work in one or other of these branches of intellectual industry, while engaged in other professions, are deemed eligible. This, it will be seen, is thoroughly in accordance with the original rule laid down at the foundation of the club. Some modifications have had to be made of late years in the method of election, but at present it stands thus: The name of every candidate, together with a statement of his qualification, has first to be submitted to the committee. If they pass the qualification as sufficient, the name is entered in the candidates' book, and it is open to members of the club to support him by their signatures. On the book the candidate's name remains until there is a vacancy, and of late these much-coveted opportunities have been so scarce that many of those seeking election have been kept waiting for two or three years. When, however, there is a prospect that the candidate will shortly go to the ballot, he is notified of the fact and invited, and indeed required, to visit the club, and avail himself of nearly all its privileges on the same footing as members. It is a somewhat trying ordeal that is thus proposed, the object of this invitation being to test the eligibility of the candidate on personal grounds. Not only must he be professionally qualified, but, as the Prince of Wales reminded his hearers on the occasion referred to above, he must show himself to be "a a good fellow." Naturally the candidate is, during his term of probation, "on his best behaviour," but, as might be expected in a society like the Savage Club, the measure of a man is soon taken. The ballot, as in other clubs, thins out the candidates' list both in the way of election and rejection; but, thanks to a process which, we believe, is quite peculiar to this body, the fatal box does not deal so hardly with the ineligible as is the case elsewhere. There is very little actual" black-balling" at the Savage Club. The committee

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vote, in the first instance, on the question, "That the candidate be now elected." If the vote be adverse, a second ballot takes place on the motion, "That the candidate be referred to his proposer that is to say, that the committee recommend his withdrawal. It is still open to the proposer to come forward and plead for his nominee, and sometimes he does so, with satisfactory results. Of course, if, on the second ballot, the vote is against "referring" the candidate, or if he is persistently pressed upon the committee after they have finally suggested his withdrawal, the extreme fate befalls him. It rarely happens, however, that such a step is found necessary. As a rule, the recommendation of the committee is adopted, and the candidate retires without the painful stigma of having been "black-balled." Other clubs-especially those of an essentially social character-might copy this merciful procedure with advantage.

Once a member of the Savage Club, the elected one ought to feel himself thoroughly "at home." In this little society-for its present limit of numbers, though lately extended, is still only 500-everybody is supposed to know, and be the friend of, everybody else. It is not, as in some other clubs, regarded as a "liberty" when one member addresses another without being introduced. Perfect freedom of personal association prevails there, and doubtless it was this fact which led that intelligent foreigner, M. Max O'Rell, to remark, in his "John Bull and His Island," that, "the only club which does not strike me with a respect akin to awe is the Savage Club." It is in this way that the Savages endeavour to keep up the best spirit of the old Bohemianism. The pretensions of the club are not great; it only professes to be what its original founders intended it to be-a society of "working men in literature and art." It is a sort of family party. and has its family quarrels, of which, of course, it would not be becoming to speak. It has, besides, superficial defects, which doubtless will be amended in the future, as such blemishes have been corrected in the past. But, with all its shortcomings, and all its occasional troubles, the Savage Club has shown itself to have a wonderful power of vitality, and to possess a firm hold on the affection of its members. The Savages, in short, are a tribe which has for its sole birthright the twin qualifications of good work and goodfellowship, and for its most imperative law the duty of proving to the world, by its own example, that, amidst all the rivalries of active life, and all the friction of social intercourse, there is no more powerful bond of union among men than the brotherhood of art.

E. J. GOODMAN.

DR. JOHNSON AS A RADICAL.

I

HAPPENED to mention to a politician the other day my intention to write something on the Radical side of Dr. Johnson's character. "The Radical side!" he exclaimed; "you would require a microscope to discover it." As my friend belongs to that numerous class of men who talk confidently of Johnson without having first given themselves the trouble to read Boswell, I was not much moved by his opinion. I knew very well that from Johnson's writings and sayings it would be easy for me to gather more passages that have the true Radical ring than most people would find patience to read. I must admit that the very founder of modern Radicalism, Jeremy Bentham, failed to recognize in him a forerunner, though the two men, as I have but lately discovered, belonged to the same club-that City Club which met at the Queen's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard. "Johnson," Boswell records, "told Mr. Hoole that he wished to have a City Club, and asked him to collect one; but said he, Don't let them be patriots." Patriot, it will be remembered, he defined in a late edition of his Dictionary, as “a factious disturber of the Government." Among the non-patriots who were thus gathered together was the founder of the Utilitarian philosophy, at that time about three-and-thirty years old, and still in politics a Tory. In his boyhood he had been so fortunate as to be present at the coronation of George III., and had described him as a most beautiful person." Nay even, at an earlier time, by standing on tip-toe he had once to his ineffable delight caught sight of the top of the wig of his gracious Majesty George II. It is some satisfaction to me to reflect that as one of my uncles, who died but a few years ago, knew Bentham, I am separated but by two steps from that august vision. All the Radical philosopher's loyal feelings had long passed away when in his old age he came to describe the City Club.

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