Benjamin Flower, Newgate, to Eliza Gould, Bath, Thursday, 3 October 1799.

                                                         Newgate Oct. 3.  1799

                                                                     Thursday Evening.

   You perceive, my Dearest Eliza, that I am in some way or other at Bath as soon, almost, as you are.  I find I must follow you from Stage to Stage, and that I cannot suffer a day to pass without, at least a few minutes conversation with you.

   “Take your Tea with us this evening, for you are now a sort of Widower” —was the kind exclamation of Mrs Kirby, when, the coach driving from the door, I yesterday lost sight of you.  We talked a good deal about you, and Mr and Mrs K- both congratulated me, both remarked the excellent choice I had made, and what a happy circumstance it was for me that I was sent to Newgate.  About half an hour after Tea things were removed, I retired to my apartment, where I kept musing for a considerable part of the evening, and to raise my spirits, I looked forward—five or six weeks, thought I, will soon pass away and I shall be happy.

   I slept well, and this morning before 8 oclock, your excellent friend Miss Gurney and her brother came to breakfast: their company was the more welcome as they brought me the reviving intelligence, that you was charmingly, in good spirits, and apparently well prepared to take your Journey.  We had a good long morning together, as it lasted til near 12 oclock.  We had much literary conversation; and (how surprised you will be!) your friend to me appeared to more advantage, than before, when the “foil” was by her to set her off.  We talked about you, which by the bye I need not have told you, but what she said to me was of that Consequence that I cannot help relating it.  She told me, that I could scarcely conceive how much your late notes to me had tired you: that writing she was sure would injure your health, if you did not take great care—that you stooped much when you wrote and that she dreaded your writing long letters.  This I own made me almost regret that I had given you any large Folio Post, and I do assure you, my Dear Love, that unless you inform me at the close of every letter, that you have taken time, have not written long at one sitting—and that you have not fatigued yourself—the pleasure I shall receive in the perusal of every line you send me, will be considerably abated.  I wish indeed you would always endeavour to have a high desk, or something on your table: I assure you, I mean to let you see that your promise shortly to be made of “obeying”—is not to consist of words only; and that if after you are married, I cannot break you of the bad habit complained of by any other means, I must serve you as naughty girls are served, get a Collar and a back board, or some such apparatus to make you, when writing, hold up your head.  To be very serious—I do firmly believe there have been instances in which much sitting and stooping at writing has laid the foundation for disorders the most fatal.

   Your Friend and I had some talk about Feltham: she told me some particul­ars of his most unfeeling neglect of you in an illness which she was witness to.  If ever he calls again on me, I do not think it will be possible for me to treat with that common civility which he met with on his last visit. But—(I should have mentioned it next to writing)—Miss G— said that speaking slower was an attainment worthy your attention—That this affected your health—that is your lungs.  Now if you do not reform in this respect also, I must take a method similar to that used by Demosthenes to cure himself of stammering—fill your mouth with gravel stones.  You see what tortures I am preparing for you, if you do not previously reform yourself.

   I have sent a parcel of Law’s Reflections for you to distribute.  I will thank you to call with the Letter to Mrs Britton and give her one of the above tracts.  She is a first Cousin of mine, well known at Bath; I forget the Street in which she lives: she formerly kept two considerable boarding houses, but now lives more retired—a widow—a very worthy serious woman. I have in my letter told her who you are.  Miss G- told me that she believes you left the “Essay on future happiness” behind you—that you proposed reading it on the road.  I am fearful if you had, it might require too much attention.  I have been looking over my small library, and selected a few things which may amuse without fatiguing you, whenever you may be inclined to read a little.  In the play of my sweet Shakespear, you will find one of his most admired Love Dialogues.  In reading this great Author, you must recollect what I have said to you about some very capital writers.  Their works resemble Mines, you will meet with Dust and Rubbish, but the Diamonds you will pick up, are those of the first water, and of the greatest value.  The times they wrote in apologise in great measure for their obscurities, as well as for some things exceptionable.  It gives me pleasure to think that when you are looking over these pamphlets &c. you will not read them with less delight when you recollect from whom they come.

   Mrs Creak spent an hour with me to day.  We looked over some of your notes, and at her request I let her have your Sunday School letters.  She expects one of your earliest visits on your return will be to Cornhill.  In one of your letters to Miss G— I observe with concern you have dedicated to the unworthy Feltham many of the “prime hours of your life.”  Is it impossible to get the effusions of these hours, some of them back again.  If you will give me leave I will send him a note, addressing him as a man of honour on the subject.

   Adieu—Adieu!—My Dearest Eliza—Tho’ you are in one respect at a greater distance from me than for these ten weeks past—I find in every other you are as near to me as ever, and that you more completely than ever, if possible, possess and fill the heart of your

                                             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. 133-35. 

Most like Eliza Gurney brought along with her that day her younger brother, William B. Gurney (1777-1855), who was still living at home at this time. Eliza is staying at Bath at this time. Flower's cousin, Mrs. Britton, operated two boarding houses in Bath: one at Harington Place and another one at Nos. 2-3 Northumberland Building (see New Bath Guide, 70-71).  Eliza's Sunday School letters are from 1798-99, when she worked as a governess in Kempston and assisted in the Sunday School at Bedford. Those letters were to Mrs. Gurney; for a complete transcription of these letters with extensive notes, see Timothy Whelan,  Politics, Religion, and Romance: The Letters of Benjamin Flower and Eliza Gould Flower, 1794-1808 (Aberystwyth: National Library of Wales, 2008).