This was the poorer sort of Dorset cheese, made of milk skimmed once, and sometimes twice; but the richer kind of mouldy cheesen, into which a portion of cream entered, was almost equal to Stilton, holding a place midway between that and the fashionable foreign makes known as Roquefort and Gorgonzola, but it is little made nowadays, and may be deemed extinct, as are also those thin cheeses which used to be made in Wiltshire and Gloucestershire, and known as single Gloucester, or toasting-cheese. The double Gloucester still enters the market, and is a good cheese, although not to be compared to Cheddar, or to that other well-known variety from Cheshire, which latter is also scarce in the London market, although you may purchase it in Rome. The little round Dutch cheeses are still much sold, but it is hard to see why they are chosen in preference to others of far superior quality and very little higher in price.

The ripening process for cheese is a somewhat lengthy affair, especially when the size is large, as in Cheddar. Most English dairy farms have a loft, or sometimes several, where the new cheeses are stored on racks, and frequently turned and scraped till they become fit for the market. The old way of sending cheese to table whole, scooping out the centre and leaving the rind to be dealt with by the cook, although perhaps extravagant, was commendable, for not only did the cheese retain its flavour better, but the necessity of eating close to the rind was avoided, and certainly the rind does not commend itself to many palates. We all know the story of the prudent young lover who, being desirous of choosing one of three sisters, selected as his bride the one who scraped her cheese. The one who cut off the rind was deemed extravagant, the one who ate it was a slut, whilst the third was supposed to be thrifty and cleanly. If put to the same test nowadays, there would be few chosen on account of that economy, for the bits of cheese sent to table are mostly free from rind when presented to the consumer.

There are some foreign cheeses which are deservedly esteemed, the chief objection to them being the strong odour which requires their being sent to table under cover. Of these we need only mention, in addition to the Roquefort and Gorgonzola, which are now to be found in every cheesemonger's shop, the Gruyere, always served on the Continent at dinner, and generally with the dessert. It is not, indeed, unusual in Italy, if you order fruit, to find a piece of this cheese sent up on the same dish, and it certainly does not eat badly, especially with dried fruits, which reminds us that in some parts of England it is customary to eat cheese with jam and marmalade, or with apple pie, and in other parts, thin slices of cheese are cut and floated on cups of tea.

Gruyere is made partly, if not entirely, of ewe's milk, and the famous Parmesan cheese is, I believe, also composed partly of ewe's milk. This cheese, used almost always in the form of powder, is a constant accompaniment of soups, macaroni, and other Italian dishes, and is sold in the grated form by the sack in all grocers' shops in Italy, and is invariably sent to table in the same way as pepper and salt in other places, to be used as a condiment. Even the Lazzaroni find a small coin wherewith to purchase this much-esteemed relish, which among ourselves is coming more and more into use, and may be bought in bottles ready grated, although it is best bought in a piece and grated at home, in order to ensure its genuineness.

There are many other foreign cheeses to be met with, but they are not in general use. There are, however, several kinds of cream cheeses, and what are known as soft cheeses, much esteemed, such as Bath cheeses, Bon-dons, Camembert, etc.

The true cream cheese is made simply by putting cream in a cloth, and allowing all the moisture to run away from it, and then moulding it into shape, pressing and turning it daily till ripe; but soft cheeses are made in various ways, one of which is given in verse attributed to the celebrated Dr. Jenner, of vaccination fame, as follows: -

'Would you make a soft cheese? Then I'll tell you how: Take a gallon of milk, quite fresh from the cow ; Ere the rennet is added, the dairyman's daughter Must throw in a quart of the clearest spring water. When perfectly curdled, so white and so nice, You must take it all out of the dish with a slice, And put it 'thout breaking with care in the vat With a cheese-cloth at bottom - be sure to mind that. This delicate matter take care not to squeeze, But fill as the whey passes off by degrees. Next day you may turn it, and do not be loth To wipe it quite dry with a fine linen cloth ; That this must be done you cannot well doubt, As long as you see the whey oozing out. The cheese is now finished, and nice it will be, If enveloped in leaves from the green ashen tree ; Or, what will do better - at least, full as well - In nettles just plucked from the bank of the dell.'

There is a kind of cream cheese made from goats' milk, which, under the name of ricotta, is much eaten in Italy; it is very sweet and palatable, and has evidently been in use from very ancient times. The vendors carry it through the streets on their heads, like the muffin sellers here, and retail it by the centime to poor purchasers.

A product of the dairy now seldom, if ever, seen, is the syllabub, for that which is sold as syllabub has very little affinity with the genuine article, as formerly set before guests on grand occasions in country houses, and which was made as follows: -

'Put into a large china punch-bowl a bottle of sherry, half a bottle of brandy, some loaf sugar, the juice of a lemon, and a nutmeg grated. Give the bowl thus charged to a careful dairymaid, and let her milk into it till nearly full, from a cow yielding good rich milk; then set aside, covering the bowl with a cloth, and, after it has stood about half an hour or more, place it on the table, and fill the glasses with a silver punch-ladle. This is a capital recipe, and sufficient for a large party.'

Devonshire is celebrated not only for its butter and cream, but for that which is known as Devonshire Junket, and which is now largely made and sold by the various dairy companies in London. It is, in fact, the old-fashioned curds and whey with a little brandy and sugar added, and with a surface dressing of Devonshire cream, which makes it a very tempting dish, especially in the summer. It is very easily made.

'Place in a glass dish a quart of new milk made lukewarm, add to it sugar to taste, a tablespoonful of brandy, a little sherry, and three teaspoonfuls of rennet. Let it stand till cold, then cover with Devonshire cream, and grate a little nutmeg over. The rennet can be bought at the chemist's in small bottles.'

Devonshire cream, which is so highly esteemed, and can now be purchased in jars, is made thus:

'The new milk from the cow is strained into large flat pans or tins, and let stand for twenty-four hours (or twelve only in very hot weather) to allow the cream to rise. It is then placed, still in the same pan, upon a hot dresser or gas stove (not too hot), and let warm gently till just on the point of boiling; then removed and set aside till cold, when the cream may be taken off and used as cream, or it may be turned into butter with the hand or by gentle churning. Devonshire cream is always sold by the pint, equal to a pound, at the same price as butter.'

Cream of this kind is also made and largely consumed in Cornwall, and the Cornish hostess is quite insulted if you ask for Devonshire cream. One way of eating it in Cornwall I have not met with elsewhere, it is spread thickly on bread, and then a little treacle is allowed to flow over it, this is called Cornish thunder and lightning.

One very general use of cream and butter in former times was in the manufacture of melted butter, which at present too often consists of a sort of water-gruel made of flour-and-water, with a little bit of butter added, a sauce to be scrupulously avoided, but which, when made as follows, is a delicious adjunct to vegetables and poultry:

'Take a good lump of fresh butter and roll it in flour, place it in a lined saucepan with half a pint of good rich cream, stir it gently over a slow fire, always the same way, till it begins to simmer. Milk may be substituted for the cream, but the sauce will not be so good.'

One of the most delicious of the many dishes manufactured from eggs and cream is the custard, which, either boiled or baked, is a dainty generally irresistible. The custards of our grandmothers, however, little resembled those set before us at the present day; they were composed solely of the yolks of many eggs, pure rich cream, a little sugar, and a flavouring of ratafia, or bay leaves and brandy, and were not indebted to custard powders, corn-flour, or other artificial thickening matter. They were used freely as a covering to tipsy-cakes and trifles which were genuinely tipsy with wine and spirits, and not merely soaked with milk and water, for our ancestors were by no means teetotallers, and could stand an amount of wine, as their receipts show, which would prostrate their 'degenerate' descendants.

At present the chief use of cream in cookery is for making creams and ice-creams, which latter do not appear in old recipes, as probably the artificial method of freezing was then unknown, and hot dishes seem to have been preferred to cold.

There is a very curious old custom described by Tennant in his 'Tour in Scotland,' in which a kind of custard was used as a propitiatory offering to animal gods or totems. 'A number of herdsmen at a certain season would form a square trench, leaving the turf in the middle. They next lighted a fire and cooked a dish composed of eggs, butter, oatmeal, and milk. They had also oatmeal cakes on which they raised nine square knobs. The ceremonies then began by spilling, as a libation, some of the dish prepared with eggs and milk. Each of the knobs on the cakes was dedicated to some particular being, the supposed protector of their flocks and herds, or to some particular animal, the real destroyer of them. Each person, turning his face to the fire, broke off a knob from his cake, and flinging it over his shoulder, said, "This I give to thee, preserve thou my horses;" " This I give to thee, preserve thou my sheep," and so on. After this they used the same ceremony to the noxious animals, saying, "This I give to thee, O fox, spare thou my lambs;" "This I give to thee, O hooded crow;" "This to thee, O eagle," etc., etc.'*

A similar custom existed also in the Isle of Man, and probably in many other parts, for these old superstitions prevailed everywhere among dwellers in the country, having come down from very ancient pre-historic times when animals were looked upon as supernatural beings or ancestors, and were assumed as totems, having power to protect those who thus placed themselves under their care.

*Archaeological Review, June 1888.