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 of the sixteenth century had once the pleasure of a visit from another Reverend Father of equal rank, which continued for several months. He was received in the most hospitable manner; and one summer evening as both host and guest were chatting familiarly together; the large round well-filled wine cups, all fine silver, standing before them, they seemed inclined to drink more than usual. For the cups, they said, were but small, and the wine that day was very good. From the moment they sat down to dinner, until now, nine in the evening, they had been chiefly entertained from the same large favorite wine vault, bequeathed years ago to the host, by a celebrated bishop, whose diocese also lay near the Rhine.

Both now agreed in opinion, that it behoved every spiritual prince who had a just regard for his honor, to follow so laudable an example, and build his cellar on the scale of the deceased prelate; and they proceeded to discuss how best such an undertaking might be executed. While minutely inquiring into all the bearings of such a building, the wine kept