July 19. Harrogate Spaws.—drinking the waters here till the 26^{th}.—to no effect, but a cold dislike of every one of your sex—I did nothing, but make comparisons betwixt thee my Eliza, & every woman I saw and talk’d to—thou hast made me so unfit for every one else—than[34] I am thine as much from necessity, as Love—I am thine by a thousand sweet ties, the least of which shall never be relax’d—be assured my dear Bramine of this—& repay me in so doing, the Confidence I repose in thee—y^r. absence, y^r. distresses, your sufferings; your conflicts, all make me rely but the more upon that fund in you, w^{ch}. is able to sustain so much weight—Providence I know will relieve you from one part of it—and it shall be the pleasure of my days to ease, my dear friend of the other—I Love thee Eliza, more than the heart of Man ever loved Woman’s—I even love thee more than I did, the day thou badest me Farewell—Farewell!—Farewell! to thee again—I’m going from hence to York Races.— * * * * * July 27. arrived at York.—where I had not been 2 hours before My heart was overset with a pleasure, w^{ch}. beggard every other, that fate could give me—save thyself—It was thy dear Packets from Iago—I cannot give vent to all the emotions I felt even before I opend them—for I knew thy hand—& my seal—w^{ch}. was only in thy possession—O ’tis from my Eliza, said I.—I instantly shut the door of my Bed-chamber, & orderd myself to be denied—& spent the whole evening, and till dinner the next day, in reading over and over again the most interesting Acc^t.—& the most endearing one that ever tried the tenderness of man—I read & wept—and wept and read till I was blind—then grew sick, & went to bed—& in an hour call’d again for the Candle—to read it once more—as for my dear Girls pains & her dangers I cannot write ab^t. them—because I cannot write my feelings or express them any how to my mind—O Eliza! but I will talk them over with thee with a sympathy that shall woo thee, so much better than I have ever done—That we will both be gainers in the end—_I’ll love thee for the dangers thou hast past_—and thy Affection shall go hand in hand w^{th}. me, because I’ll pity thee—as no man ever pitied Woman—but Love like mine is never satisfied—else y^r. 2^d. Letter from Iago—is a Letter so warm, so simple, so tender! I defy the world to produce such another—by all that’s kind & gracious! I will entreat thee Eliza so kindly—that thou shalt say, I merit much of it—nay all—for my merit to thee, is my truth. I now want to have this week of nonsensical Festivity over—that I may get back, with my picture w^{ch}. I ever carry ab^t. me—to my retreat and to Cordelia—when the days of our Afflictions are over, I oft amuse my fancy, w^{th}. an Idea, that thou wilt come down to me by Stealth, & hearing where I have walk’d out to—surprize me some sweet Shiney night at Cordelia’s grave, & catch me in thy Arms over it—O my Bramin! my Bramin!——