On Weighing Anchor -- The Reveillon -- On Cheeses -- The Captain of Industry -- The Inventor -- The Views of England -- The Lunatic -- The Inheritance of Humour -- The Old Gentleman's Opinions -- On Historical Evidence -- The Absence of the Past -- St. Patrick -- The Lost Things -- On the Reading of History -- The Victory -- Reality -- On the Decline of the Book -- Jose Maria De Heredia -- Normandy and the Normans -- The Old Things -- The Battle of Hastings -- The Roman Roads in Picardy -- The Reward of Letters -- The Eye-Openers -- The Public -- On Entries -- Companions of Travel -- On the Sources of Rivers -- On Error -- The Great Sight -- The Decline of a State -- On Past Greatness -- Mr. the Duke: The Man of Malplaquet -- The Game of Cards -- "King Lear" -- The Excursion -- The Tide -- On a Great Wind -- The Letter -- The Regret -- The End of the World.
rst, the antiquity of its lineage; secondly, the antiquity of its self. For we all know that when we meet a nobleman we revere his nobility very much if he be himself old, and that this quality of age in him seems to marry itself in some mysterious way with the antiquity of his line.
The lineage of cheese is demonstrably beyond all record. What did the faun in the beginning of time when a god surprised him or a mortal had the misfortune to come across him in the woods? It is well known that the faun offered either of them cheese. So he knew how to make it.
There are certain bestial men, hangers-on of the Germans, who would contend that this would prove cheese to be acquired by the Aryan race (or what not) from the Dolichocephalics (or what not), and there are certain horrors who descend to imitate these barbarians--though themselves born in these glorious islands, which are so steep upon their western side. But I will not detain you upon these lest I should fall head foremost into another digression and