We were almost having a symposium and I was invited to define Toryism in one sentence. I replied that one book would be easier: the late Roger Scruton’s On Hunting, which ought to be subtitled: ‘From Horse-Shit to Heaven: the Search for Love, Order and God.’ ‘But what if you leave out God, and therefore heaven?’ said one fellow: ‘What would be left?’
‘What indeed. Many learned Tories – Dr Johnson, Salisbury and Quintin Hogg being obvious examples – would have given a simple answer: nothing.’
Those of us who have to do without God and yet avoid the abyss of nothingness can only fall back on eupeptic pessimism. Edward Fitzgerald’s Omar points the way: ‘A jug of wine and thou.’ That made us think about wine and philosophy, a suitably Scrutonian juxtaposition. You can enjoy wine without being troubled by deep thoughts – or any thoughts, for that matter, as countless millions of Toby Belches have discovered over three millennia. But it is also possible to regard a glass of wine as a Hegelian synthesis. Think of the number of theses and antitheses which have come together in the dancing dialectic to create that final product. The magic of terroir, the long maturation of experience and tradition and the increasing influence of science, which means that there are fewer and fewer bad years, while other regions improve their viniculture. This is just as well, given the world’s increasing demand for the stuff. Leaving aside its use in many religions, drinking wine is a secular sacrament.
My new friend Nicola Bodano is a one-man synthesis.
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