to continue obedient to your father, and
are sensible of his goodness towards you. Mr. Birtles showed me your
letter to him, in which you enclosed yours to me, where you speak to him
as your friend; subscribing yourself his faithful humble servant. He was
at Genoa in his uncle's house when you was there, and well acquainted
with you; though you seem ignorant of everything relating to him. I wish
you would make such sort of apologies for any errors you may commit. I
pray God your future behaviour may redeem the past, which will be a
great blessing to your affectionate mother.'

"I have not since heard from him; I suppose he knew not what to say to
so plain a detected falsehood. It is very disagreeable to me to converse
with one from whom I do not expect to hear a word of truth, and who, I
am very sure, will repeat many things that never passed in our
conversation. You see the most solemn assurances are not binding from
him, since he could come to London in opposition to your commands, after
having so frequently protested he would not move a step except by your
order. However, as you insist on my seeing him, I will do it, and think
Valence the properest town for that interview; it is but two days'
journey from this place; it is in Dauphine.

"I shall stay here till I have an answer to this letter. If you order
your son to go to Valence, I desire you would give him a strict command
of going by a feigned name. I do not doubt your returning me whatever
money I may give him; but as I believe, if he receives money from me, he
will be making me frequent visits, it is clearly my opinion I should
give him none. Whatever you may think proper for his journey, you may
remit to him."

"Lyons, April 25 [1742].

"On recollection (however inconvenient it may be to me on many
accounts), I am not sorry to converse with my son. I shall at least have
the satisfaction of making a clear judgment of his behaviour and temper:
which I shall deliver to you in the most sincere and unprejudiced
manner. You need not apprehend that I shall speak to him in passion. I
do not know that I ever did in my life. I am not apt to be over-heated
in discourse, and am so far prepared, even for the worst on his side,
that I think nothing he can say can alter the resolution I have taken of
treating him with calmness. Both nature and interest (were I inclined to
follow blindly the dictates of either) would determine me to wish him
your heir rather than a stra