About the date of Dryden’s death, probably before it, as his portrait was included among the other members, the famous Kit-Cat Club was founded by Tonson. Various are the derivations of the club. The most circumstantial account of its origin is given by the scurrilous writer, Ned Ward, in his “Secret History of Clubs.” It was established, he says, “by an amphibious mortal, chief merchant to the Muses, to inveigle new profitable chaps, who, having more wit than experience, put but a slender value as yet upon their maiden performances.” (Tonson must have been a rare publisher if he found “new chaps” to be in any way profitable.) With the usual custom of the times, Tonson was always ready to give his author, especially upon concluding a bargain, wherewithal to drink, but he now proposed to add pastry in the shape of mutton pies, and, according to Ward, promises to make the meeting weekly, provided his clients would give him the first refusal of their productions. This generous proposal was very readily agreed to by the whole poetic class, and the cook’s name being Christopher, called for brevity Kit, and his sign the Cat and Fiddle, they very merrily derived a quaint denomination from puss and her master, and from thence called themselves the Kit-Cat Club. According to Arbuthnot, their toasting-glasses had verses upon them in honour of “old cats and young kits,” and many of these toasts were printed in Tonson’s fifth “Miscellany.” At first they met in Shire Lane, (Ward says Gray’s Inn Lane), and subsequently at the Fountain Tavern in the Strand. In a short time the chief men of letters having joined the club, “many of the quality grew fond of sharing the everlasting honour that was likely to crown the poetical society.” Sir Godfrey Kneller, himself a member, painted portraits of all the members, commencing with the Duke of Somerset, and these were hung round the club-room at Tonson’s country house at Water Oakeley, where the members of the club were in after-times wont to meet. The tone of the club-room became decidedly political, and interesting as it is, our space forbids us to do more than give the following lines from “Faction Displayed” (1705), which, by-the-way, quotes Dryden’s threatening triplet, already alluded to:-- “I am the Touchstone of all modern wit; Without my stump, in vain you poets writ. Those only purchase everlasting fame That in my ‘Miscellany’ plant their name. I am the founder of your loved Kit-Kat, A Club that gave direction to the state. ’Twas here we first instructed all our youth To talk profane and laugh at sacred truth; We taught them how to toast and rhyme and bite, To sleep away the day, and drink away the night.”