Simplicity is constantly urged throughout "The Art of Dining," and again and again does the author insist upon the necessity of having whatever dish that may be served preceded by all its minor adjuncts, and accompanied by all the proper vegetables quite hot, so that it may be enjoyed entirely and at once. The liquid accessories he would have placed upon the table in such a manner as to be as much as possible within the reach of each person; and as Mathew Bramble, in "Humphrey Clinker," talks, in his delights of rural life, of eating trout struggling from the stream, so he would have his dishes served glowing or steaming from the kitchen, a quality which lends a relish otherwise impossible. "There are two kinds of dinners" [he goes on to say]--"one simple, consisting of a few dishes, the other embracing a variety. Both kinds are good in their way, and both deserve attention; but for constancy I greatly prefer the simple style.... In the first place, it is necessary not to be afraid of not having enough, and so to go into the other extreme and have a great deal too much, as is almost invariably the practice. It is also necessary not to be afraid of the table looking bare, and so to crowd it with dishes not wanted, whereby they become cold and sodden. 'Enough is as good as a feast' is a sound maxim, as well in providing as in eating. The having too much, and setting dishes on the table merely for appearance, are practices arising out of prejudices which, if once broken through, would be looked upon, and deservedly, as the height of vulgarity. The excessive system is a great preventive of hospitality, by adding to the expense and trouble of entertaining, whilst it has no one advantage. It is only pursued by the majority of people for fear of being unlike the rest of the world."