by Daniel Defoe
he first came to England, he had been at the place towhich they were directed, and found them all lying there but one, andthat the people had not known how to deliver them; that he thought tohave had a direction there how to find me, but had the mortification tobe told that they did not so much as know who I was; that he was under agreat disappointment; and that I ought to know, in answer to all myresentments, that he had done a long and, he hoped, a sufficient penancefor the slight that I had supposed he had put upon me; that it was true(and I could not suppose any other) that upon the repulse I had giventhem in a case so circumstanced as his was, and after such earnestentreaties and such offers as he had made me, he went away with a mindheartily grieved and full of resentment; that he had looked back on thecrime he had committed with some regret, but on the cruelty of mytreatment of the poor infant I went with at that time with the utmostdetestation, and that this made him unable to send an agreeable answerto me; for which reason he had sent none at all for some time; but thatin about six or seven months, those resentments wearing off by thereturn of his affection to me and his concern in the poor child ----.There he stopped, and indeed tears stood in his eyes; while in aparenthesis he only added, and to this minute he did not know whether itwas dead or alive. He then went on: Those resentments wearing off, hesent me several letters--I think he said seven or eight--but received noanswer; that then his business obliging him to go to Holland, he came toEngland, as in his way, but found, as above, that his letters had notbeen called for, but that he left them at the house after paying thepostage of them; and going then back to France, he was yet uneasy, andcould not refrain the knight-errantry of coming to England again to seekme, though he knew neither where or of who to inquire for me, beingdisappointed in all his inquiries before; that he had yet taken up hisresidence here, firmly believing that one time or other he should meetme, or hear of me, and that some kind chance would at last throw him inmy way; that he had lived thus above four years, and though his hopeswere vanished, yet he had not any thoughts of removing any more in theworld, unless it should be at last, as it is with other old men, hemight have some inclination to go home to die in his own country, butthat he had not thought of it yet; that if I would consider all thesesteps, I would find some reasons to forget his first resentments, and tothink that penance, as he called it, which he had undergone in search ofme an _amende honorable_, in reparation of the affront given to thekindness of my letter of invitation; and that we might at last makeourselves some satisfaction on both sides for the mortifications past.
I confess I could not hear all this without being moved very much, andyet I continued a little stiff and formal too a good while. I told himthat before I could give him any reply to the rest of his discourse Iought to give him the satisfaction of telling him that his son wasalive, and that indeed, since I saw him so concerned about it, andmention it with such affection, I was sorry that I had not found outsome way or other to let him know it sooner; but that I thought, afterhis slighting the mother, as above, he had summed up his affection tothe child in the letter he had wrote to me about providing for it; andthat he had, as other fathers often do, looked upon it as a birth which,being out of the way, was to be forgotten, as its beginning was to berepented of; that in providing sufficiently for it he had done more thanall such fathers used to do, and might be well satisfied with it.
He answered me that he should have been very glad if I had been so goodbut to have given him the satisfaction of knowing the poor unfortunatecreature was yet alive, and he would have taken some care of it uponhimself, and particularly by owning it for a legitimate child, which,where nobody had known to the contrary, would have taken off the infamywhich would otherwise cleave to it, and so the child should not itselfhave known anything of its own disaster; but that he feared it was nowtoo late.
He added that I might see by all his conduct since that what unhappymistake drew him into the thing at first, and that he would have beenvery far from doing the injury to me, or being instrumental to add _unemiserable_ (that was his word) to the world, if he had not been drawninto it by the hopes he had of making me his own; but that, if it waspossible to rescue the child from the consequences of its unhappy birth,he hoped I would give him leave to do it, and he would let me see thathe had both means and affection still to do it; and that,notwithstanding all the misfortunes that had befallen him, nothing thatbelonged to him, especially by a mother he had such a concern for as hehad for me, should ever want what he was in a condition to do for it.
I could not hear this without being sensibly touched with it. I wasashamed that he should show that he had more real affection for thechild, though he had never seen it in his life, than I that bore it, forindeed I did not love the child, nor love to see it; and though I hadprovided for it, yet I did it by Amy's hand, and had not seen it abovetwice in four years, being privately resolved that when it grew up itshould not be able to call me mother.
However, I told him the child was taken care of, and that he need not beanxious about it, unless he suspected that I had less affection for itthan he that had never seen it in his life; that he knew what I hadpromised him to do for it, namely, to give it the thousand pistoleswhich I had offered him, and which he had declined; that I assured him Ihad made my will, and that I had left it L5000, and the interest of ittill he should come of age, if I died before that time; that I wouldstill be as good as that to it; but if he had a mind to take it from meinto his government, I would not be against it; and to satisfy him thatI would perform what I said, I would cause the child to be delivered tohim, and the L5000 also for its support, depending upon it that he wouldshow himself a father to it by what I saw of his affection to it now.
I had observed that he had hinted two or three times in his discourse,his having had misfortunes in the world, and I was a little surprised atthe expression, especially at the repeating it so often; but I took nonotice of that part yet.
He thanked me for my kindness to the child with a tenderness whichshowed the sincerity of all he had said before, and which increased theregret with which, as I said, I looked back on the little affection Ihad showed to the poor child. He told me he did not desire to take himfrom me, but so as to introduce him into the world as his own, which hecould still do, having lived absent from his other children (for he hadtwo sons and a daughter which were brought up at Nimeguen, in Holland,with a sister of his) so long that he might very well send another sonof ten years old to be bred up with them, and suppose his mother to bedead or alive, as he found occasion; and that, as I had resolved to doso handsomely for the child, he would add to it something considerable,though, having had some great disappointments (repeating the words), hecould not do for it as he would otherwise have done.
I then thought myself obliged to take notice of his having so oftenmentioned his having met with disappointments. I told him I was verysorry to hear he had met with anything afflicting to him in the world;that I would not have anything belonging to me add to his loss, orweaken him in what he might do for his other children; and that I wouldnot agree to his having the child away, though the proposal wasinfinitely to the child's advantage, unless he would promise me that thewhole expense should be mine, and that, if he did not think L5000 enoughfor the child, I would give it more.
We had so much discourse upon this and the old affairs that it took upall our time at his first visit. I was a little importunate with him totell me how he came to find me out, but he put it off for that time,and only obtaining my leave to visit me again, he went away; and indeedmy heart was so full with what he had said already that I was glad whenhe went away. Sometimes I was full of tenderness and affection for him,and especially when he expressed himself so earnestly and passionatelyabout the child; other times I was crowded with doubts about hiscircumstances. Sometimes I was terrified with apprehensions lest, if Ishould come into a close correspondence with him, he should any way cometo hear what kind of life I had led at Pall Mall and in other places,and it might make me miserable afterwards; from which last thought Icon
cluded that I had better repulse him again than receive him. Allthese thoughts, and many more, crowded in so fast, I say, upon me that Iwanted to give vent to them and get rid of him, and was very glad whenhe was gone away.
We had several meetings after this, in which still we had so manypreliminaries to go through that we scarce ever bordered upon the mainsubject. Once, indeed, he said something of it, and I put it off with akind of a jest. "Alas!" says I, "those things are out of the questionnow; 'tis almost two ages since those things were talked between us,"says I. "You see I am grown an old woman since that." Another time hegave a little push at it again, and I laughed again. "Why, what dostthou talk of?" said I in a formal way. "Dost thou not see I am turnedQuaker? I cannot speak of those things now." "Why," says he, "theQuakers marry as well as other people, and love one another as well.Besides," says he, "the Quakers' dress