"I am a young lady of a good fortune, and at present invested by several lovers who lay close siege to me, and carry on their attacks with all possible diligence. I know which of them has the first place in my own heart, but would freely cross my private inclinations to make choice of the man who loves me best, which it is impossible for me to know, all of them pretending to an equal passion for me. Let me therefore beg of you, dear Mr. Bickerstaff, to lend me your Ithuriel's spear,[219] in order to touch this troop of rivals; after which I will most faithfully return it to you again, with the greatest gratitude. I am,
Sir, &c."
Query 1. What figure this lady doth think her lover will appear in? Or what symptoms he will betray of his passion upon being touched?
2. Whether a touch of her fan may not have the same efficacy as a touch of Ithuriel's spear?
"Great Lincoln's Inn
Square, Nov 29.
"Honoured Sir,
"Gratitude obliges me to make this public acknowledgment of the eminent service you have done myself in particular, and the whole body of chaplains, I hope, in general.[220] Coming home on Sunday about dinner-time, I found things strangely altered for the better; the porter smiled in my face when he let me in, the footman bowed to me as I passed him, the steward shook me by the hand, and Mrs. Beatrice dropped me a curtsey as she went along. I was surprised at all this civility, and knew not to what I might ascribe it, except to my bright beaver and shining scarf that were new that day. But I was still more astonished to find such an agreeable change at the table: my lord helped me to a fat slice of venison with his own hand, and my lady did me the honour to drink to me. I offered to rise at my usual time, but was desired to sit still, with this kind expression, 'Come, doctor, a jelly or a conserve will do you no harm; don't be afraid of the dessert.' I was so confounded with the favour, that I returned my thanks in a most awkward manner, wondering what was the meaning of this total transformation: but my lord soon put an end to my admiration, by showing me a paper that challenged you, sir, for its author, and rallied me very agreeably on the subject, asking me, which was best handled, the lord or his chaplain? I owned myself to think the banter sharpest against ourselves, and that these were trifling matters, not fit for a philosopher to insist on. His lordship was in so good a humour, that he ordered me to return his thanks with my own, and my lady joins in the same, with this one exception to your paper, that the chaplain in her family was always allowed mince-pies from All-Hallows to Candlemas. I am,
"Sir,
"Your most obliged,
"Humble Servant,
"T.W."