at Food is the chief object of its
quest. It is true that Man, bitterly examined, is merely a vehicle
for units of nourishing combustion; but on those occasions when the
Club feels most truly Itself it rises above such considerations.

The form and pressure of the time (to repeat Hamlet's phrase) is
such that thoughtful men--and of such the Club is exclusively
composed: men of great heart, men of nice susceptibility--are
continually oppressed by the fumbling, hasty, and insignificant
manner in which human contacts are accomplished. Let us even say,
_masculine_ contacts: for the first task of any philosopher being to
simplify his problem so that he can examine it clearly and with less
distraction, the Club makes a great and drastic purge by sweeping
away altogether the enigmatic and frivolous sex and disregarding it,
at any rate during the hours of convivial session. The Club is
troubled to note that in the intolerable rabies and confusion of
this business life men meet merely in a kind of convulsion or horrid
passion of haste and perplexity. We see, ever and often, those in
whose faces we discern delightful and considerable secrets, messages
of just import, grotesque mirth, or improving sadness. In their
bearing and gesture, even in hours of haste and irritation, the Club
(with its trained and observant eye) notes the secret and rare sign
of Thought. Such men are marked by an inexorable follow-up system.
Sooner or later their telephones ring; secretaries and go-betweens
are brushed aside; they are bidden to appear at such and such a time
and place; no excuses are accepted. Then follow the Consolations of
Intercourse. Conducted with "shattering candour" (as one has said
who is in spirit a member of this Club, though not yet, alas,
inducted), the meetings may sometimes resolve themselves into a
ribaldry, sometimes into a truthful pursuit of Beauty, sometimes
into a mere logomachy. But in these symposiums, unmarred by the
crude claim of duty, the Club does with single-minded resolve pursue
the only lasting satisfaction allowed to humanity, to wit, the
sympathetic study of other men's minds.

This is clumsily said: but we have seen moments when eager and
honourable faces round the board explained to us what we mean. There
is but one indefeasible duty of man, to say out the truth that is in
his heart. The way of life engendered by a great city and a modern
civilization makes it hard to do so. It is the function of the Club