At the meals which occur during a journey, you see beautiful exemplification of the dictum of Hobbes, “that war is the natural state of man.”  The entire scene is one of unintermitted war of every person with every other person, with the viands, and with good manners.  You open your mouth only to admit edibles and to bellow to the waiters.  Your sole object is yourself.  You drink wine without asking your neighbour to join you; and if he should be so silly as to ask you to hand him some specified dish, you blandly comply; but in the passage to him, you transfer the whole of its contents to your own plate.  There is no halving in these matters.  Rapacity, roaring, and rapidity are the three requisites for dining during a journey.  When you have resumed your seat in the coach, you are as bland as a morning in spring.

Never assume any unreal importance in a stage-coach, founded on the ignorance of your fellows, and their inability to detect it.  It is excessively absurd, and can only gratify a momentary and foolish vanity; for, whenever you might make use of your importance, you would probably be at once discovered.  There is an admirable paper upon this point in one of Johnson’s Adventurers.

The friendship which has subsisted between travellers terminates with the journey.  When you get out, a word, a bow, and the most unpleasant act of life is finished and forgotten.

CHAPTER XI.  BALLS.

Invitations to a ball should be issued at least ten days in advance, in order to give an opportunity to the men to clear away engagements; and to women, time to prepare the artillery of their toilet.  Cards of invitation should be sent—­not notes.

Upon the entrance of ladies, or persons entitled to deference, the master of the house precedes them across the room:  he addresses compliments to them, and will lose his life to procure them seats.

While dancing with a lady whom you have never seen before, you should not talk to her much.

The master of the ceremonies must take care that every lady dances, and press into service for that purpose these young gentlemen who are hanging round the room like fossils.  If desired by him to dance with a particular lady you should refuse on no account.

If you have no ear, that is, a false one, never dance.

To usurp the seat of a person who is dancing is the height of incivility.

Never go to a public ball.

CHAPTER XII.  FUNERALS.

When any member of a family is dead, it is customary to send intelligence of the misfortune to all who have been connected with the deceased in relations of business or friendship.  The letters which are sent contain a special invitation to assist at the funeral.

An invitation of this sort should never he refused, though, of course, you do not send a reply, for no other reason that I know of, excepting the impossibility of framing any formula of acceptance.