Satan
It must interest every thoughtful being to know how our national life and national customs have come to be what they are. They have not sprung up in a night like a mushroom. They have been forming for ages. Each day has contributed something. The great river of social life, ever flowing onward to the ocean of eternity, has been constantly fed by the tributaries of necessity, appetite, fashion, fancy, vanity, caprice, and imitation. Man is a bundle of habits and customs.
With some, it is true, life is mere routine, a round of conventionalities; literally `one day telleth another;' with others, each day is a reality, has its fresh plan, is a rational item in the account of life. To these nothing is without its meaning; there is a definiteness, a precision, about its hours of action, of thought, of diversion, of ministering to the bodily claims of sustenance by eating and drinking. Around the latter, social life has fearfully encircled itself. The world was, and still is, -- `On hospitable thoughts intent.'
The above, taken from a tome which I suspect we will cite often here at Drinking Healths, is one Richard Valpy French's 1884 work, Nineteen Centuries of Drink In England.
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