we are to our hosts?...

[Illustration: _MONASTIC LUXURY._
Photogravure from a Painting by Edward Gruetzner.]

By the sight of wonderful and costly vanities men are prompted to give,
rather than to pray. Some beautiful picture of a saint is exhibited--and
the brighter the colors the greater the holiness attributed to it: men
run, eager to kiss; they are invited to give, and the beautiful is
more admired than the sacred is revered. In the churches are suspended,
not _coronae_, but wheels studded with gems and surrounded by lights,
which are scarcely brighter than the precious stones which are near
them. Instead of candlesticks, we behold great trees of brass fashioned
with wonderful skill, and glittering as much through their jewels as
their lights. What do you suppose is the object of all this? The
repentance of the contrite, or the admiration of the gazers? O vanity of
vanities! but not more vain than foolish. The church's walls are
resplendent, but the poor are not there.... The curious find wherewith
to amuse themselves; the wretched find no stay for them in their misery.
Why at least do we not reverence the images of the saints, with which
the very pavement we walk on is covered? Often an angel's mouth is spit
into, and the face of some saint trodden on by passers-by.... But if we
cannot do without the images, why can we not spare the brilliant colors?
What has all this to do with monks, with professors of poverty, with men
of spiritual minds?

Again, in the cloisters, what is the meaning of those ridiculous
monsters, of that deformed beauty, that beautiful deformity, before the
very eyes of the brethren when reading? What are disgusting monkeys
there for, or satyrs, or ferocious lions, or monstrous centaurs, or
spotted tigers, or fighting soldiers, or huntsmen sounding the bugle?
You may see there one head with many bodies, or one body with numerous
heads. Here is a quadruped with a serpent's tail; there is a fish with a
beast's head; there a creature, in front a horse, behind a goat; another
has horns at one end, and a horse's tail at the other. In fact, such an
endless variety of forms appears everywhere, that it is more pleasant to
read in the stonework than in books, and to spend the day in admiring
these oddities than in meditating on the law of God. Good God! if we are
not ashamed of these absurdities, why do we not grieve at the cost
of them?

FROM HIS SERMON ON THE DEATH OF GERARD

"As the tents of