The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1900-02-27

1tASN@tN.
inc. lay down together, and the humorous
or tragic situations, the strong contrasts
and vivid colors. 10 which this curious
mealey gave birth. imparts even to the
second-rate essayists and dramatists of
the period an interest which their literary
merit alone would scarcely have Secured
for them. 1t is often said that conversation
is lost art-with what truth we will not
undertake co decide-but though it is by
no means dependent on tavern society for
its cultivation, both the tavern and the
coffee house obviously did much to en-
courage it.. The two were not always
identical. though in time they became
so. Some coffee houses were taverns, and
some taverns We're coffee houses, but down
to the end of the last century a distinc-
ton. was kept up between them, with
which, however, we have long ceased to
be familiar.
The coffee house was a morning lounge.
Men went there really to drink Coffee and
to discuss literature, society, politics or
business over their tobacco. 1t was here
that friends met one another to make up
their party for dinner for which they ad-
tourned again afterward. Addison and his
party, however, when once they had sat
down at Buttons generally remained
there for the rest of the evening. The
system lasted long after Addisons time.
The coffee house with it's general CONVEX
sation, as described in the Spectator, was
still to be found in Cumberlands day and
toward the end of George lis reign the
Covent Garden coffee houses prided tAem-
selves on keeping up the Austrian ira
diuons, Notwithstanding to Conan
they were but very degenerate represen-
tatives OF their classic predecessors. But
the tavern and tavern life 1ourished in
undated vigor down to within living
| memory. The Bedford the Rose the
| Grecian, Dicks. the Cock, the Mitre, and
| the Cheshire Cheese are all to be met
| with in the literature of the eighteenth
| century and the first half of the nine
| teenth. The customers who supported
| them came mostly from a class the MEM
bers of which now dine regularly at West
| End clubs but who then had nowhere but
| Covent Garden or Fleet street tavern
| to take their meals. Johnson, of course
| is the great luminary who sheds luster
| on the tavern dinner.
| When We think of this as it was more
than century ago, we naturally think of
| him. Could Johnson and CoWper, in Cow
| per's early days, have been brought to-
| gether at Mitre, the talk would have been
worth listening to. Cowper, who had
| chambers in the Temple from 1852 to 1853
! used Dicks, and il is no great stretch
| of Imagination to suppose that he was Of
| ten Joined there at dinner by Colman,
! Bonnell, Thornton, Lloyd, and even, per-
| haps, by Lloyds friend Churchill. Dicks.
| now extinct continued. to be the resort of
| Templars and men of letters down to thlr
| ty years ago. and, perhaps the genuine
old tavern life of London. as known TO
| Johnson Fielding and their contemporaries
| was, last seen there There are capitai
| chop houses and restaurant still to be
| found in London, some bearing old and
| honored names, but none OF them quite
corresponding to the tavern" when It
stood in place of the club, and men like
| Tennyson and Thackeray dined, drank
| and spent the evening there. That par
| ticular form of conviviality is now ex-
tinct, so far as concerns the class of men
in question. There are plenty of liter
airy and other clubs which stll meet in
taverns; but they have their own rooms.
and only meet at intervals. To the man
in chambers, who he'd to dine at a tavern
| every day when he was not asked out,
the system presented itself in quite a
different light The coffee room became
kind of home to him, and the walters were
like-hls own servants. At most of these
houses in their prosperous days the cook
cry was fairly good. They did not offer
you the kind OF dinner which is now set
before you at the fashionable West End
restaurant-that was not their way, But
what you did get was of the hest: and
at almost all Of them there was good port
wine IN the cellar. If you could persuade
the landlord 10 bring II out.
Such was the old life. Men now middle
aged just witnessed its departing fringe.
1t had certain iovialty and sociability,
the loss of which was, perhaps not too
high a price to pay for the more ord arly
and temrerate mode of life which has sue
ceeded 1t. But what must chiefly have re-
commended the old tavern to its habit
ues was the complete independence and
freedom which secured them. Even in
the most easy-going West End clubs a
man cannot do exactly as he likes. John
son, Of course, could only compare tav-
ern and a private house. But in a mod-
fed q gree his dictum holds good Of a
tavern and a club, too. No man, he says,
unless gifted with an unusual share of i'm.
pud nee. can use another mans house as
his own. Nor can he use his club with the
same degree of freedom He is surrounded
by certain INVISIBLE and unwritten con-
ventional limitation which he cannot
| transgress without making himself dlsa-
greeably conspicuous. In a tavern he
could do Just is he liked sit In a box by
himself II he chose smoking and drink
ing til o'clock in the morning or til
the house shut IN. without waiter even
looking at him, except when he renewed
his liqucr. Parties of three or four could
do just the same and often did. We are
far from saying that this was a desra-
bic practice or calculat q to keep a mans
BODY In the condition prescribed by the
catechism' We only give it as a specimen