"Oh, nothing, sir, but I have read a story of that kind."
"Most probably; the great art of invention is to found it upon facts. There are some people who out of a mole-hill will make a mountain; and facts and fiction become so blended nowadays, that even truth becomes a matter of doubt."
"Very true, sir," replied I; and as he did not speak for some minutes, I ventured to bring my Bible to his bedside, as if I was reading it to myself.
"What are you reading, Peter?" said he.
"Only a chapter in the Bible, sir," said I. "Would you like that I should read aloud?"
"Yes, I'm very fond of the Bible—it's the book of truth. Peter, read me about Jacob, and his weathering Esau with a mess of pottage, and obtaining his father's blessing." I could not help thinking it singular that he should select a portion in which, for divine reasons, a lie was crowned with success and reward.
When I had finished it, he asked me to read something more; I turned over to the Acts of the Apostles, and commenced the chapter in which Ananias and Sapphira were struck dead. When I had finished, he observed very seriously, "That is a very good lesson for young people, Peter, and points out that you never should swerve from the truth. Recollect, as your motto, Peter, to 'tell truth and shame the devil.'"
After this observation I laid down the book, as it appeared to me that he was quite unaware of his propensity; and without a sense of your fault, how can repentance and amendment be expected? He became more feeble and exhausted every day, and, at last, was so weak that he could scarcely raise himself in his bed. One afternoon he said, "Peter, I shall make my will, not that I am going to kick the bucket just yet; but still it is every man's duty to set his house in order, and it will amuse me; so fetch pen and paper, and come and sit down by me."
I did as he requested.
"Write, Peter, that I, Anthony George William Charles Huskisson Kearney (my father's name was Anthony, Peter; I was christened George, after the present Regent, William and Charles after Mr Pitt and Mr Fox, who were my sponsors; Huskisson is the name of my great uncle, whose property devolves to me; he's eighty-three now, so he can't last long)—have you written down that?"