“The chicken, the pig, the fish, and the duck, these are the four heroes of the table. Sea-slugs and birds’-nests have no characteristic flavours of their own. They are but usurpers in the house. I once dined with a friend who gave us birds’-nest in bowls more like vats, holding each about four ounces of the plain-boiled article. The other guests applauded vigorously; but I smiled and said, ‘_I came here to eat birds’-nest, not to take delivery of it wholesale._’ “_Don’t eat with your eyes_; by which I mean do not cover the table with innumerable dishes and multiply courses indefinitely. For this is to eat with the eyes, and not with the mouth. “Just as a calligraphist should not overtire his hand nor a poet his brain, so a good cook cannot possibly turn out in one day more than four or five distinct _plats_. I used to dine with a merchant friend who would put on no less than three removes [sets of eight dishes served separately], and sixteen kinds of sweets, so that by the time we had finished we had got through a total of some forty courses. My host gloried in all this, but when I got home I used to have a bowl of rice-gruel. I felt so hungry. “To know right from wrong, a man must be sober. And only a sober man can distinguish good flavours from bad. It has been well said that words are inadequate to describe the _nuances_ of taste. How much less then must a stuttering sot be able to appreciate them! “I have often seen votaries of guess-fingers swallow choice food as though so much sawdust, their minds being preoccupied with their game. Now I say eat first and drink afterwards. By these means the result will be successful in each direction.” Yüan Mei also protests against the troublesome custom of pressing guests to eat, and against the more foolish one of piling up choice pieces on the little saucers used as plates, and even putting them into the guests’ mouths, as if they were children or brides, too shy to help themselves. There was a man in Ch‘ang-an, he tells us, who was very fond of giving dinners; but the food was atrocious. One day a guest threw himself on his knees in front of this gentleman and said, “Am I not a friend of yours?” “You are indeed,” replied his host. “Then I must ask of you a favour,” said the guest, “and you must grant it before I rise from my knees.” “Well, what is it?” inquired his host in astonishment. “Never to invite me to dinner any more!” cried the guest; at which the whole party burst into a loud roar of laughter.