Father Cuddy
derived no small comfort from the sound, for it presaged a good metheglin
season; and metheglin he considered, if well manufactured, to be no bad
liquor, particularly when there was no stint or usquebaugh in the brewing.
Arrived within the abbey garth, he was received with due respect by the
brethren of Irelagh, and arrangements for the embarkation of the wine were
completed to his entire satisfaction.--"Welcome, Father Cuddy!" said the
prior, "grace be on you."
"Grace before meat then," said Cuddy, "for a long walk always makes me
hungry, and I am certain I have not walked less than half-a-mile this
morning, to say nothing of crossing the water."
A pasty of choice flavour felt the truth of this assertion as regarded
Father Cuddy's appetite. After such consoling repast, it would have been a
reflection on monastic hospitality to have departed without partaking of
the grace-cup; moreover, Father Cuddy had a particular respect for the
antiquity of that custom. He liked the taste of the grace-cup well; he
tried another,--it was no less excellent; and when he had swallowed the
third he found his heart expand, and put forth its fibres, as willing to
embrace all mankind! Surely then there is Christian love and charity in
wine!
I said he sung a good song. Now though psalms are good songs, and in
accordance with his vocation, I did not mean to imply that he was a mere
psalm-singer.
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