The cleanliness of the white table-cloth seems to have been a matter of pride; and to judge by the illuminations great care seems to have been taken to place it neatly and smoothly on the table, and to arrange tastefully the part which hung down at the sides. Generally speaking, the service on the table in these illuminations appears to be very simple, consisting of the cups, stands for the dishes of meat (messes, as they were called) brought by the cook, the knives, sometimes spoons for soup and liquids, and bread. Ostentatious ornament is not often introduced, and it was perhaps only used at the tables of princes and of the more powerful nobles. Of these ornaments, one of the most remarkable was the nef, or ship--a vessel, generally of silver, which contained the salt-cellar, towel, &c., of the prince, or great lord, on whose table it was brought with great ceremony. It was in the form of a ship, raised on a stand, and on one end it had some figure, such as a serpent, or castle, perhaps an emblem or badge chosen by its possessor. Our cut No. 113, taken from a manuscript in the French National Library, represents the nef placed on the table. The badge or emblem at the end appears to be a bird. [Illustration: _No. 113. The Nef._] [Illustration: _No. 114. Gluttony._] Our forefathers seem to have remained a tolerably long time at table, the pleasures of which were by no means despised. Indeed, to judge by the sermons and satires of the middle ages, gluttony seems to have been a very prevalent vice among the clergy as well as the laity; and however miserably the lower classes lived, the tables of the rich were loaded with every delicacy that could be procured. The monks were proverbially _bons vivants_; and their failings in this respect are not unfrequently satirised in the illuminated ornaments of the mediæval manuscripts. We have an example in our cut No. 114, taken from a manuscript of the fourteenth century in the Arundel Collection in the British Museum (No. 91); a monk is regaling himself on the sly, apparently upon dainty tarts or patties, while the dish is held up by a little cloven-footed imp who seems to enjoy the spirit of the thing, quite as much as the other enjoys the substance. Our next cut (No. 115) is taken from another manuscript in the British Museum of the same date (MS. Sloane, No. 2435), and forms an appropriate companion to the other. The monk here holds the office of cellarer, and is taking advantage of it to console himself on the sly. [Illustration: _No. 115. Monastic Devotions._]