Benjamin Flower, Newgate, to Eliza Gould, Post Office, Wellington, Somerset, Sunday and Monday, 13 and 14 October 1799.

Newgate Oct. 13. 1799

                                                                     Sunday Eveng

My most dear Eliza

   Two miniature profiles have just been introduced to me, to the originals of which I confess I am a stranger: the manner in which they were introduced was somewhat singular.  As I was sitting in Mr Kirby’s Parlour, the servant brought in a small parcel, left as she informed me by two Ladies, who she asked to walk in, but they would not.  I opened the parcel which contained the miniatures carefully done up in plenty of Tissue paper.  I shook every sheet in expectation of finding a letter of information on the subject, but in vain.  I with Mr & Mrs Kirby examined the miniatures, (a gentleman and a lady).  Mr Kirby thought the latter like you, but neither Mrs K— nor myself could see any likeness; nobody could guess at the gentleman.  I looked all over the brown paper to see if there were no other direction—I perceived on the inside—Miss Jones written.  Examining the miniatures we perceived the artists name, and that he lived at Bath. These circumstances make me suppose they came from that Place, but who they are, who they came from, and for whom they are destined, is to me a mystery which I must leave for time to explain.

   I have not received any letter from you my Dearest friend, to day, altho’ your letter of Thursday gave me reason to expect one by some private hand: but I am determined to guard against unfavourable constructions, and hoping for the best information by to morrow’s post, I will conclude this day by having a few minutes conversation with you.

   When I sat down to reading and meditation after breakfast this morning, the manner in which I had spent most of my Sabbaths for these two months past rushed on my mind.  I in particular dwelt on that delightful season, this day fortnight, the first sabbath after your illness, when you looked so much recovered, were in such charming spirits, and when we both, yes—I will repeat, when we both were so happy in the company and the conversation of each other. I felt low at the thought of our being separated, but taking up my book I recovered myself, and I will add the sweetest hours I have spent in solitude during my confinement, and I believe I shall not go too far if I add—during my whole life, were those which followed.  The book I was reading and feasting on is entitled “A Picture of Christian Philosophy”—a small 8vo written by Mr Fellowes, Clergyman; it was brought me by a friend a few days since.  Altho, as you well know, I am not a friend to copying, I cannot help copying a paragraph or two for your perusal.  The extracts are from a Chapter “On the character of our Saviour as a Friend.[”]

   “The breast of Jesus was warmed with the brightest fires of universal love: but that love did not extinguish the lesser charities.  The Spirit of Philanthropy did not liberate him from the tender bondage of local and personal attachments.  His heart was not insensible to the sympathies of private friendship.  John is emphatically styled—‘The Apostle whom Jesus loved.’ John was the congenial friend of his soul; and dear to him as Jonathan to David.  Stripped of the sweet domestic affections, how naked, desolate and cheerless would the heart be!   Where, in misery, should we seek for refuge or for sympathy, if the system of some late moralists were to be permitted to freeze into a cold insensate mass, every warm drop of happiness which is instilled into the heart, by the tender connections of family and of friendship?  No man can live long in the world without contracting some individual attachments.  A congeniality of sentiments, or of manners, among those with whom we mingle in the intercourse of life, will, naturally, excite a stronger degree of affection towards them than towards others.  Friendship derives its energy and its Spirit from the power of Sympathy.  We naturally love those most, in whose company we enjoy the greatest degree of pleasurable sensation; and this we certainly must do, with those whose habits approach the nearest to our own; with whom we can indulge a bland communion of happiness, to whom we can impart our joys and our sorrows, sure of their exciting corresponding vibrations in their sympathetic bosoms.

   Jesus well knew that a tender and reciprocal friendship can gladden the melancholy path of human life.  He therefore sanctioned, by his example, that pure flame of private friendship, which inspires different persons with an identity of interests, and which, while it increases the happiness of individuals, need subtract nothing from the sum of general benevolence.  [The Author then illustrates our Saviour’s character as a Friend, in the instance of Lazarus, John 15th.] The behaviour of Jesus in this Scene of affliction, speaks in the most captivating manner, the tenderness of his feelings, & the warmth of his affections. His friendship was not a sickly & transitory glow of fondness, the mere vapour of caprice, or the ebullition of appetite; it did not originate from a familiarity in vice, nor was it polluted by the base alloy of venality and interest.  It was a friendship excited by sympathy, cherished by benevolence, and preserved by esteem.  It was formed of elements, not perishable, but immortal: a friendship which death does not extinguish; but only transfers it into some happier country; and places it in circumstances more genial to its growth and more auspicious to its expansion; where no storms can shake the firmness of its roots, and no blights within the beauty of its branches.  Providence by having distributed mankind into families and willed the relations of husband & wife, father & child, of brother & sister, hath impressed the seal of sacredness on the kindred affections: but tho’ nature has sown the seeds of these affections, yet they will not shoot up & blossom without careful cultivation: they require the benign & fostering breath of sympathy to bring them to a vigorous maturity, & to enable them to stand against the changes & inclemencies of life: but the kindred affections, when they have been strengthened by an interchange of kindnesses, and by agreeable associations, are a source of pure and exquisite happiness.  They resemble that fragrant incense of piety, which the spirit of love wafts from the heart of the righteous to the throne of the eternal!

   Of all the affections which can warm the heart of man, that of conjugal love, which unites the blandishments of all the kindred charities, with a thousand additional captivations seems the best adapted to increase the sum of human happiness.  Perhaps, on no occasion did Jesus more clearly demonstrate his knowledge of the genuine source of social & domestic bliss, than in the restraints which he imposed on the nuptial union.  He did not consider marriage as a meer transient association, to be formed as the appetite prompts, & to be dissolved as it decays.  No—our Saviour evidently considers marriage as a religious obligation.  Whenever matrimony is entered into without any religious consideration of the moral duties it enjoins, it is a sensual, profane & unhallowed connexion.   The only true & genuine marriage, is that which is an union of mind & soul, as well as appetite; not springing from the inconsiderate tumult of passion, but the considerate tranquility of esteem; not volatile, but permanent; not exhaled from humour & whim, but combined with all the best affections of the heart; and fast­ened on the conscience, by the glorifying energies of religion.   It is refined by sympathy; it is sublimed by fancy; till losing half its animal grossness it resembles the delicate intercourse of pure Spirits!   It is probable that the pure & genuine flame of affection which identifies the interests and the sensations of two hearts on this earth, will shine for ever in a better country.  Death will not dissolve the true undissembled union of souls.  Hence then take comfort, thou wretched monster, who art following to the grave one, who was the fond companion of thy travel in this waste of misery!   Our Saviour says, in heaven they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like the angels. The physical bonds of love will perish in the grave; but its moral bonds—the delicate energies of sympathy—will be everlasting!!!”

   Now My Eliza—My best Friend—My dearest love—will not your hand vibrate with mine on reading and reflecting on this soul ravishing subject.  I know it will.  My “romantic Ideas,” as they have been termed, are, (as I have at times hoped, after all) those of reason and revelation.  You think—you feel as I do on the subject.  The persuasion makes me very happy—with it I close the midnight hour, & retire to my pillow.

Oct. 14.  Monday   4 oclock

   The Post was nearly two hours later than usual, and I kept walking about before the street door with some impatience, but what was my disappointment when the man came and I found no Letter from my Eliza!  I again refer to yours of the 10th, in which you promise to write me on the Saturday by a Private hand.  No letter came Yesterday.   You knew by mine of the 11th & 12th—I fully expected one by to day’s post—I am again disappointed!!  I did not want or expect long Letters, but indeed I anxiously very, very anxiously expected a line or two.  What can be the reason I do not know—Did you receive my Letter at Bristol[?] This is the 3d Letter Fourth Letter I have written—the three former are not yet acknowledged.  This cruel suspense—I wish I could suspend all thought till I hear from you.  I know not where to direct this, and it is all hagard—only remember it is not my fault—nor do I know there is any fault on your side—but there is something unfortunate somewhere.  Direct your next to me at Mr Creak’s No 69 Cornhill London, as I leave this place on Thursday.  If you should not be able to write till Thursdays Post from Wellington, or Exeter, for I do not know where you are, direct to me at Cambridge, as I go there on Friday night.  Adieu!  Adieu! But pray as you value my peace and happiness do not disappoint me when you give me reason to expect to hear from you. If it is only one line I will be content—

                                 Eternally Yours

                                             B   Flower

Text: Flower Correspondence, National Library of Wales, Aberystwyth; for an annotated edition of this letter and the complete correspondence of Eliza Gould and Benjamin Flower, see Timothy Whelan, ed., Politics, Religion, and Romance: The Letters of Benjamin Flower and Eliza Gould, 1794-1808 (Aberystywth: National Library of Wales, 2008), pp. 152-55. 

Robert Fellowes (1771-1847) was at that time Curate of Harbury, near Southam, Warwickshire.  The passages quoted (with considerable deletions and conflations on Flower’s part), are from pp. 89-94, 97-99, 102-04 (2nd ed., 1799).  A few weeks after this letter, Flower printed an excerpt from Fellowes’s pamphlet On French Infidelity in the Cambridge Intelligencer on 9 November 1799. Fellowes would later edit the Critical Review (1804-11).  Flower's friendship with Creak was still evident, as it was his home in which he stayed immediately upon his release from Newgate Prison.