Drink

West Virginia. There is a paradox. A state of natural beauty, glorified by mountains and watered by rivers – including the Shenandoah (surely the most beautiful word in American) – carved out of reluctant nature by hard human labour, then divided by slavery and war, but ending on the Union side – it ought to be an honoured political jurisdiction. But the West Virginians broke away from the rest of Virginia. In its early days, it was governed by cultivated gentlemen, who filled their cellars with fine wine and their libraries with fine books. Yet the way of life which managed this transplant of European civilisation was sustained by slave

Professional Englishmen and women – doctors, accountants and even journalists – could once afford to drink first-growth claret like Château Latour on a regular basis. In 1972, when the Daily Telegraph’s Guide to the Pleasures of Wine was published, Pomerol was still an obscure corner of Bordeaux, known for offering ‘very good value’. Those days are long gone. Prices began to take off in the 1980s, with Auberon Waugh blaming ‘American millionaires looking to impress their guests’. The 1982 Bordeaux vintage was highly lauded by a then-unknown young lawyer called Robert Parker Jnr who would go on to become the most influential wine critic in the world. After this, anything

Riches, ancient cities, great architecture, splendid landscape, agriculture to match, trade routes, romance. Records of human settlement stretching to the dawn of civilisation, recurrent conflicts and invasions, dynastic struggles which lasted for centuries, wars of religion followed later by revolutionary conflicts. We are contemplating Provence, a region with a glorious history but which has often produced more history than it could consume. That gives rise to an ironic parallel. In the UK, we too have a Province, pronounced Prov’nce. It too has exported a lot of history, for which it has received little recognition. Almost a third of the signatories of the US Declaration of Independence had Ulster Protestant roots.

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

We were discussing civilisation, as one does, and its relationship with cuisine. Pasta in Italy, paella in Spain, the roast beef of Old England; wurst in Germany, burgers in the States –though with those latter examples we are moving away from the concept. What about Japan, a complex society which is full of paradoxes? For three-quarters of a century, the Meiji Restoration was the most successful revolution since the Glorious Revolution itself. It was part of a process which opened Japan to western influences and vice versa. Rather as in the UK, ancient forms were preserved, which helped to ensure social stability during a period of rapid change. Japan often

Let us indulge in a slight paraphrase. What rough beast slouches towards the White House to be reborn? The inauguration ceremonies remind us that many Americans still hanker after monarchical splendour. Even as contentious a figure as Donald Trump is accorded the dignities appropriate to a head of state. The same of course is true of M. Macron, who carries them off better. The dignified portion of the constitution, or the efficient one? It could easily be argued that President Trump is better in the latter role. In his early phase, President Macron wanted us to see him as a Napoleonic figure. Indeed. Napoleon le Petit. If a bottle was

It is extraordinary to remember. When I was a small boy in Scotland, Christmas Day was not a holiday. My father almost closed his office, but someone was on duty. The main festivity was Hogmanay: not a holiday in England. Now the whole country closes down for a fortnight. A friend who is a serious industrialist says that far from afflicting productivity, this is a good thing. After two weeks, apart from those who have gone in search of sun or skiing, most people are fed up with family life. Even the brats cannot wait to get back to school. So his employees return to work with renewed vigour. We started with

Free thinking Sir: Your leading article (‘Article of faith’, 14 December) appears to have forgotten the connection between rationalism and natural rights. Liberals indeed think in utilitarian, Rousseauian and what they consider ‘rationalistic’ terms. But what about the logic of natural rights that come from John Rawls or Robert Nozick? The Declaration of Independence, the political culmination of Enlightenment-era thought on reason and rights, was in large part the product of irreligious minds. This document has been the model for a free society for centuries. And what about Milton Friedman’s argument for a free society? That nobody can know with certainty what sin is; therefore, no one can coerce anybody

Forty years ago this Christmas I visited Hong Kong for the first time – a few days after the signing in Beijing of the Sino-British Joint Declaration that sealed the former colony’s transfer to mainland rule in 1997. It was a moment of apprehension, but at least the timetable had been set. And how lucky I was to have experienced that extraordinary outpost as it was then, in such contrast to what China’s masters have made it now. The Christmas Day service in St John’s Cathedral, overhead fans stirring the turbid air, was a poignant glimpse of Hong Kong’s past. Norman Foster’s Hongkong Bank building, the most expensive in the

Crime. Fear not: none of us was planning to break the law, with the possible exception of hate speech. Where that is concerned, how would one start? But we were more concerned with crime and literature, and a fascinating perennial question. What is the distinction between crime fiction and novels? In the 1990s, I introduced one of the loveliest girls of the age to the delights of proper wine Crime and Punishment: no problem. So what about The Moonstone? There are very many supposed novels which I would rather read. Moving nearer our own day, we have Dorothy Sayers or P.D. James. More recently, Reginald Hill, Susan Hill and Ian

We were assembled to taste Chilean wines assisted by magnificent Scottish food, courtesy of the Scottish embassy in London, otherwise known as Boisdale. But there was a problem of etiquette. As we were dealing with Chilean matters, I thought that we should propose a toast to a great Chilean and a staunch ally of this country, General Pinochet, who saved his own nation from becoming another Cuba or a mess like the current Venezuela. The left will never forgive Pinochet or Kissinger for frustrating Marxist ruin My neighbour expressed doubt. Surely the general committed atrocities? I conceded that the overthrow of Allende was not bloodless. But the sort of men