envious of happiness, too great for a mortal, has taken upon him my form to destroy my felicity. Nevertheless, I abjure, I detest a crime which I must have committed, since you are my accuser, but in which my will had no part. How do I begin to abhor that fatal intemperance, which once seemed to me favourable to the effusions of the heart, and which has so cruelly deceived mine! I have bound myself, therefore, by a solemn and irrevocable vow, to renounce wine from this day, as a mortal poison. Never shall that fatal liquor again touch my lips, bereave me of my senses, or involve me in guilt to which my heart is a stranger. If I ever break this solemn vow, may the powers of love inflict on me the punishment I deserve! May the image of Eloisa that instant forsake my heart, and abandon it for ever to indifference and despair! But, think not I mean to expiate my crime by so slight a mortification. There is a precaution and not a punishment. It is from you I expect that which I deserve; nay, I beg it of you to console my affliction. Let offended love avenge itself and be appeased to punish without hating me, and I will suffer without murmuring. Be just and severe; it is necessary, and I must submit; but if you would not deprive me of life, you must not deprive me of your heart. Letter LII. From Eloisa. What! my friend renounce his bottle for his mistress! This is indeed a sacrifice! I defy any one to find me a man in the four cantons more deeply in love than your-self. Not but there may be found some young frenchified petit-maîtres among us that drink water through affectation; but you are the first Swiss that ever love made a water- drinker, and ought to stand as an example for ever in the lover’s chronicle of your country. I have even been informed of your abstinent behaviour, and have been much edified to hear that, being to sup last night with M. de Vueillerans, you saw six bottles go round after supper without touching a drop; and that you spared your water as little as your companions did their wine. This state of self-denial and penitence, however, must have lasted already three days, and in three days you must have abstained from wine at least for six meals. Now to the abstinence for six meals, observed through fidelity, may be added six others, through fear, six through shame, six through habit, and six more through obstinacy. How many motives might be found to prolong this mortifying abstinence, of which love alone will have all the credit? But can love condescend to pride itself in merit, to which it hath no just pretensions?