Benjamin Flower at Cambridge to Eliza Gould at Dodbrook, Monday, 18 Nov­ember 1799.

                                                         Cambridge Nov.  18.  1799

   It has been my usual practice, My Dearest Eliza, to read your letters at breakfast, first to myself, and then such parts as I chose to the family; but before I got thro’ the first page of your last of Nov 13th. I was so much affected that I put the letter in my pocket, just remarking to Miss Jennings “that I had a very good account”; I hastily finished my breakfast, and retiring to my chamber, mingled my soul with yours in grateful adoration to that merciful being who has so disappointed our fears and exceeded our hopes & expectations.   Before however I remark on your past experience, so similar to my own, let me attend to what is at present of the first importance, the arrangement of your journey, with one or two points connected with it. 

   A thousand thanks to you, my Dearest Life, for meeting my wishes with respect to time.  I was, previous to the reception of your letter, speculating whether it would be best for us to be united at Cambridge, Hertford, or Walworth, but your expressed wish shall, (as I may venture to predict will be the case thro’ our lives) turn the scale.  Walworth shall be the place where our mutual vows shall faithfully declare the state of our souls for some time past.  Agreed then as we are with respect to place and time, I must add, that to avoid any disappointment in the latter respect, you must be in London on Saturday Sen’night the 30th Instant.  You say “Three weeks residence will satisfy the Surrogate”; but if so, I am sure it will not satisfy either you or myself.  I have examined Burn’s Ecclesiastical Law, by which I find that one of the parties must make oath of a residence a month before the granting the licence.  I perhaps should have taken on trust your observation on this matter, but I recollect the case of a worthy residence was necessary, and neither party having resided in the Parish so long the day was put off, though I believe Parties in general are not so nil about the matter, but as you and I both are, you will see the absolute necessity of your being in London on the day specified.  I will mention another reason which tho’ inferior is not a minute one.  I can meet you in London on the Saturday, whereas if you make it Monday or Tuesday in the following week, I fear I shall not be able, as in spite of contrivance I believe I must return to Cambridge in the middle of the week, and consequently shall not be in London till the following Saturday.  With the permission therefore of Providence, I shall depend upon meeting you in London on Saturday Sennight the 30th. 

   I do not at all wonder at your parents wishing to detain you as long as possible, and indeed I think you may stay within a day or two of the time they mention, that is a fortnight from Wednesday the 13th. the date of your Letter; but in that case you must not think of staying Two or three days at Bath.  Any promise you made your friends there must have been quite conditional and as they had you a week on your journey, surely a day, or the best part of two days, as I believe the coach gets in pretty early, will be sufficient.  You must by all means stop at Wellington.  If both the Coaches go to Bath the same day, you perhaps might go there by one, and after staying there an hour or two proceed to Bath by the other, but if not, I am sure a day there to consult with Mr Holman (whose Letter I transmitted you a copy of in my last) will be the most important day on your Journey.  But pray take [care] of any “strange mistake” about the coaches.  You talk of taking the “Mail Coach from Bath.” How my dearest love could such an Idea ever enter your head!  To travel 112 miles, all night, the latter end of Nov­ember this for a person who has for these three months past lived a life of recoveries and relapses, and who within this fortnight was in a dangerous situation!  You shall not attempt it for Bath with all its houses & inhabitants.  If you feel no fatigue from your Journey to Bath, you may perhaps proceed to London in one of the day Coaches on Friday or Saturday, but if you feel any fatigue, you must set out by the Two day Coach on Friday.  You will now be able to judge whether it will be best to leave Dodbrook on Monday, or Tuesday next.  Thus you will stay within a day or two of the time mentioned by your parents, and I have you to settle who ought to have the preference of the day, your parents or your Bath friends.  Fix your plan immediately—keep to it, and after you are once resolved, do not suffer any one on the road to set it aside or alter it in the least iota.  I know as much as any one how difficult it is to resist the entreaties of those who are near or dear to us.  Indeed all parties are very near in opinion with each other in this business, and it is only your staying at Bath a day less than mentioned in your Letter.  As to all other matters alluded to in yours such as about House, furniture, residence for the winter &c, I shall have them to be settled when we meet.

   You may rest assured I will implicitly follow your directions—“Do not send any of my trumpery Letters to London,” and that for the best of all possible reas­ons—namely, because I have not, nor ever had one to find, I have repeatedly read over all your Letters, and the minutest of your notes, and I cannot find a single trumpery one amongst them.  The very first I receive from you of that description, so far from exposing you by sending it to London or any where else, I will I assure you throw it into the fire.  But pray fill your paper to better purpose than by sending me such trumpery admonitions.  You see I am determined to find fault with you as often as I can.

   And now, My most Dear Eliza, let my heart respond to yours.  Again in describing the sentiments and feelings of your past life have you most exactly described mine.  How often, do I remember I have exclaimed when advised to take care of myself when ill of an obstinate cold—“My life is of no consequence.” I have indeed more than once lamented, that my Constitution was so strong, that no afflictions approved so to affect it, as to afford me the prospect of a speedy release from the world altogether.  I have at times in my hours of solitude checked myself, and have endeavoured to cultivate that frame of mind, the only proper frame for a Christian—Resignation to the will of God.  When I received one of your letters the week before last, and Miss Jennings who could not help confessing that she was fearful of your case, lamented your distance; I could not help exclaiming “If she does not recover, I don’t care what becomes of me.  I shall probably write with that freedom that ministers will send me again to Newgate, if not to Botany Bay; or if they send me to the Scaffold, I shall not care about the matter.” I had a friendly reproof for this language, and I strove in part, to gain that self possession which a Christian ought never to lose.  But I have told you my feelings such as they really were, and such as they have often been. Often have I summed them up in the affecting language of Orlando in Shakespear’s As you like it.  “When I leave the world I shall only leave a place in it which may be better filled when I have made it empty.”

   I will not now spend a moment in regretting that you have not been able to write me such long letters as I hoped for.  The sketch of your life, I shall one day promise myself a feast in attending to.  I have not finished mine.  Oh!  may our lives be entirely devoted to that God who has changed the darkest skies, and who now affords us a prospect of felicity in this world, such felicity as I trust will be a foretaste of that which will be our lot in a future world when, after a short separ­ation, we shall meet, never, never to part any more!  Adieu! Adieu!  my Dearest Love, I will not be impatient, as the time for our meeting is now so short, but I will dwell with complacency on the Thought that next week I shall have the pleasure of renewing in person those sincere professions of respect, esteem and affection so often made by

                                             yr B Flower

Respectful & affectionate Remembrance to all my new Relatives—What a strange Revolution again in France, though I do not much wonder at it.

Text: Timothy Whelan, ed., Politics, Religion, and Romance: The Letters of Benjamin Flower and Eliza Gould, 1794-1808 (Aberystwyth: National Library of Wales, 2008), pp. 197-99.

References above to Richard Burns' Ecclesiastical Law (1763, 1797); also Napoleon’s abolishing of the French Directory and the designation of himself as “First Consul” on 9 November 1799.