St. George, St. Denis, and other dignified heroes:  one killed his dragon, another his lion, and were all afterwards canonised for it, having red letters before them to illustrate their martial temper.[319] The Spanish nation, it must be owned, were devoted to gallantry and chivalry above the rest of the world.  What a great figure does that great name, Don Quixote, make in history?  How shines this glorious star in the Western world?  O renowned hero!  O mirror of knighthood!

    Thy brandished whinyard all the world defies,
    And kills as sure as del Tobosa’s eyes.

I am forced to break off abruptly, being sent for in haste, with my rule, to measure the degree of an affront, before the two gentlemen (who are now in their breeches and pumps ready to engage behind Montague House[320]) have made a pass.

From my own Apartment, June 18.

It is an unreasonable objection I find against my labours, that my stock is not all my own, and therefore the kind reception I have met with is not so deserved as it ought to be.  But I hope, though it be never so true that I am obliged to my friends for laying their cash in my hands, since I give it them again when they please, and leave them at their liberty to call it home, it will not hurt me with my gentle readers.  Ask all the merchants who act upon consignments, where is the necessity (if they answer readily what their correspondents draw) of their being wealthy themselves?  Ask the greatest bankers, if all the men they deal with were to draw at once, what would be the consequence?  But indeed a country friend has writ me a letter which gives me great mortification; wherein I find I am so far from expecting a supply from thence, that some have not heard of me, and the rest do not understand me.  His epistle is as follows:[321]

“DEAR COUSIN,

“I thought when I left the town to have raised your fame here, and helped you to support it by intelligence from hence; but alas! they had never heard of the Tatler until I brought down a set.  I lent them from house to house; but they asked me what they meant.  I began to enlighten them, by telling who and who were supposed to be intended by the characters drawn.  I said for instance, Chloe[322] and Clarissa are two eminent toasts.  A gentleman (who keeps his greyhound and gun, and one would think might know better) told me, he supposed they were papishes, for their names were not English:  ‘Then,’ said he, ’why do you call live people “toasts"?’ I answered, that was a new name found out by the wits, to make a lady have the same effect as burridge[323] in the glass when a man is drinking.  ‘But,’ says I, ’sir, I perceive this is to you all bamboozling; why you look as if you were Don Diego’d[324] to the tune of a thousand pounds.’  All this good language was lost upon him:  he only stared, though he is as good a scholar as any layman in the town, except the barber.  Thus, cousin, you must be content with London for the centre of your wealth and fame; we have no relish for you.  Wit must describe its proper circumference, and not go beyond it, lest (like little boys, when they straggle out of their own parish), it may wander to places where it is not known, and be lost.  Since it is so, you must excuse me that I am forced at a visit to sit silent, and only lay up what excellent things pass at such conversations.