own to many generations.

[Footnote 1: In the reprint of "The Tatler," volume v., this number was
called No. 20. [T.S.]]

[Footnote 2: _Epist. ex Ponto_, II. ix. 47-48.

"An understanding in the liberal arts
Softens men's manners."
[T.S.]]

[Footnote 3: _I.e._ 1710-11. [T.S.]]

[Footnote 4: Compare Swift's "Treatise on Good Manners and Good
Breeding." [T.S.]]

[Footnote 5: A famous dancing-master in those days. [FAULKNER.] He died
in 1740. [T.S.]]

THE TATLER, NUMB, 302.[1]

_O Lycida, vivi pervenimus, advena nostri,
(Quod numquam veriti sumus) ut possessor agelli
Diceret, Haec mea sunt, veteres migrate coloni._
VIRG.[2]

FROM TUESDAY MARCH 13. TO THURSDAY MARCH 15. 1710.[3]

_From my own Apartment in Channel-Row, March 14._

The dignity and distinction of men of wit is seldom enough considered,
either by themselves or others; their own behaviour, and the usage they
meet with, being generally very much of a piece. I have at this time in
my hands an alphabetical list of the _beaux esprits_ about this town,
four or five of whom have made the proper use of their genius, by gaining
the esteem of the best and greatest men, and by turning it to their own
advantage in some establishment of their fortunes, however unequal to
their merit; others satisfying themselves with the honour of having
access to great tables, and of being subject to the call of every man
of quality, who upon occasion wants one to say witty things for the
diversion of the company. This treatment never moves my indignation so
much, as when it is practised by a person, who though he owes his own
rise purely to the reputation of his parts, yet appears to be as much
ashamed of it, as a rich city knight to be denominated from the trade
he was first apprenticed to, and affects the air of a man born to his
titles, and consequently above the character of a wit, or a scholar. If
those who possess great endowments of the mind would set a just value
upon themselves, they would think no man's acquaintance whatsoever a
condescension, nor accept it from the greatest upon unworthy or
ignominious terms. I know a certain lord that has often invited a set
of people, and proposed for their diversion a buffoon player, and an
eminent poet, to be of the party; and which was yet worse, thought them
both sufficiently recompensed by the dinner, and the honour of his
company. This kind of insolence is risen to such a height, that I my se