“He’s a disagreeable man, I know; but then, you see, it doesn’t matter, for I so seldom use the club,” was the grossly egotistical reply. No wonder the political party of which this individual is considered one of the shining lights has of late years had a hard struggle to hold its own! One of the most original reasons for putting down a candidate was that given by a somewhat unpopular member of a certain club. An acquaintance, looking through the candidates’ book, observed that a name recently inscribed was that of an individual whom his proposer had always denounced as a regular club bore. “Why ever did you put him down?” asked the astonished member. “I thought you particularly disliked him.” “Certainly I do,” was the reply; “and as, above all things, I wish to prevent his getting in here, I thought the best way of insuring his being pilled would be to propose him myself, being well aware that anyone whom I may support will have but a very slight chance of escaping a good many black balls.” Committee-men are not infrequently placed in a very uncomfortable position when asked by friends to give their support to doubtful candidates. A man of the world, well known for his ingenuity, used to get out of the difficulty by invariably replying: “My dear fellow, you may rely on me to do the proper thing.” With the vast increase of London clubs, an altogether different state of affairs has arisen as regards the numbers of candidates waiting to come up for election, and which in the majority of instances is far less difficult than was formerly the case; few even of the old-established clubs have been able to maintain their ancient exclusiveness. The Athenæum, Turf, and Travellers’ are still, however, not at all easy about electing members. The latter, founded about 1819, in its early days attracted a good deal of notice from the fact that a candidate for admission was required to have been 500 miles distant from London; and a considerable sensation was once caused by the discovery that several members, who had originally entered their names, had not travelled the prescribed distance. An investigation was made, and the newspapers of the day published lists of places a visit to which was a sufficient qualification for membership of the Travellers’. In former days, candidates sometimes had to wait for many years before coming up for election. Owing, however, to various causes—of which the chief was, perhaps, the great increase in the number of West End clubs—this period now rarely exceeds two, or at most three, years. The Bath Club is, I believe, an exception, because the facilities for swimming and other exercises which this institution affords to its members (drawn from both sexes) has caused a very large number of names to be inscribed upon its books. In consequence of this, a candidate must now expect a delay of several years before his name comes up for ballot.