he were to take up a piece of sugar with his fingers and not
with the sugar-tongs.

* Shakspeare

It is of course needless to say that your own knife should
never be brought near to the butter, or salt, or to a dish of
any kind. If, however, a gentleman should send his plate for
anything near you, and a knife cannot be obtained
immediately, you may skillfully avoid all censure by using
_his_ knife to procure it.

When you send your plate for anything, you leave your knife
and fork upon it, crossed. When you have done, you lay both
in parallel lines on one side. A render who occupies himself
about greater matters, may smile at this precept. It may,
indeed, be very absurd, yet such is the tyranny of custom,
that if you were to cross your knife and fork when you have
finished, the most reasonable and strong-minded man at the
table could not help setting you down, in his own mind, as a
low-bred person. _Magis sequor quam probo._

The chief matter of consideration at the dinner table, as
indeed everywhere else in the life of a gentleman, is to be
perfectly composed and at his ease. He speaks deliberately,
he performs the most important act of the day as if he were
performing the most ordinary. Yet there is no appearance of
trifling or want of gravity in his manner; he maintains the
dignity which is becoming on so vital an occasion. He
performs all the ceremonies, yet in the style of one who