his wife with indifference, neglect, and ill
nature; with many other circumstances which it is not material to
relate.

Adieu, my dear friend, for the present. When occasion requires, you
shall hear again from your affectionate

JULIA GRANBY.

LETTER LXV.

TO MR. CHARLES DEIGHTON.

HARTFORD.

Good news, Charles, good news! I have arrived to the utmost bounds of my
wishes--the full possession of my adorable Eliza. I have heard a
quotation from a certain book, but what book it was I have forgotten, if
I ever knew. No matter for that; the quotation is, that "stolen waters
are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant." If it has reference
to the pleasures which I have enjoyed with Eliza, I like it hugely, as
Tristram Shandy's father said of Yorick's sermon; and I think it fully
verified.

I had a long and tedious siege. Every method which love could suggest,
or art invent, was adopted. I was sometimes ready to despair, under an
idea that her resolution was unconquerable, her virtue impregnable.
Indeed, I should have given over the pursuit long ago, but for the hopes
of success I entertained from her parleying with me, and, in reliance
upon her own strength, endeavoring to combat and counteract my designs.
Whenever this has been the case, Charles, I have never yet been defeated
in my plan. If a lady will consent to enter the lists against the
antagonist of her honor, she may be sure of losing the prize. Besides,
were her delicacy genuine, she would banish the man at once who presumed
to doubt, which he certainly does who attempts to vanquish it. But far
be it from me to criticize the pretensions of the sex. If I gain the
rich reward of my dissimulation and gallantry, that, you know, is all I
want.

To return, then, to the point. An unlucky, but not a miraculous accident
has taken place which must soon expose our amour. What can be done? At
the first discovery, absolute distraction seized the soul of Eliza,
which has since terminated in a fixed melancholy. Her health, too, is
much impaired. She thinks herself rapidly declining, and I tremble when
I see her emaciated form.

My wife has been reduced very low of late. She brought me a boy a few
weeks past, a dead one though.

These circumstances give me neither pain nor pleasure. I am too much
engrossed by my divinity to take an interest in any thing else. True, I
have lately suffered myself to be somewhat engaged here and there by a
few jovial lads who ass