The oldest book in the possession of the club is one for entering the attendances of members, and commences October 12, 1781. At that time the members appear to have dined together weekly. At the monthly dinners of the club, the chairman proposes the following toasts: (_a_) “Church and Queen.” (_b_) “The Prince of Wales and the Rest of the Royal Family.” (_c_) “Our Absent Members.” (_d_) “Our Visitors, if any.” No one is allowed to stand when proposing or replying to a toast. Morning dress is worn at dinner. One of the last of the old school of members of this club was Admiral Johnson, elected 1842, who was the midshipman who supported Nelson’s head as he lay dying in the cockpit of the _Victory_. It was no uncommon thing for the Admiral to have three bottles of port put before him at 8 o’clock, which he consumed by about 9.30. He was always called upon for a song, and he used to sing about fourteen verses of “On board the _Arethusa_.” His usual hour for retirement was about 10.30, when he would be escorted to his pony, and would ride home to Baddow, three miles away. Admiral Johnson remembered the time when the fine for any member being unfortunate enough to be presented with twins by his wife was the presentation of a pair of buckskin breeches to each member of the club, and he boasted of still possessing a pair that Thomas W. Bramston, whilst member for the county, had to pay him. At many old county dining clubs penalties of this sort were enforced: members were fined for marrying, for becoming a father, or for moving to another house; and such fines usually consisted of a certain number of bottles of wine. Other quaint usages included the forfeiture of some small sum for refusing to take the chair at dinner or for leaving it to ring the bell, for allowing a stranger to pay for anything consumed, and similar delinquencies. Another Beefsteak Club was that at Cambridge, the members of which belonged to the University. This club, now for some years in abeyance, was a quaint survival from the past, and exactly reproduced the dinner of eighteenth-century sportsmen. Twenty-five years ago, when it still flourished, it usually consisted of but four or five members, but guests could be invited. The dining costume was a blue cutaway coat with brass buttons, and buff waistcoat, the tie being secured with a bull’s head. The dinner was entirely composed of various dishes of beef, beer only being drunk; some curious old songs were sung, and the toasts, regulated by inflexible precedent, were drunk in port from glasses of a size regulated by immemorial custom. Amongst these toasts was the health of the late Mr. Bowes, who, when he was an undergraduate at Cambridge, won the Derby with Mundig. This horse, after a tremendous struggle, beat Ascot, belonging to the present writer’s grandfather, by half a neck.