CHAPTER VIII
The dinner passed in observations on the atheist's story; but as soon as the company thought the clergyman had recruited his spirits enough to make it agreeable to him to relate what remained, they desired him to proceed, which he immediately complied with.
"The atheist waked very light-headed, and raved on nothing but his brother; talked of his having concealed from them the main part of his story, only from shame. But the apothecary, by applying proper remedies, at last brought him to his senses; and then begged him, if there was anything lay on his conscience which he had not yet disclosed, he would do it. On which he desired him to send for the clergyman again, and as soon as he came, he told him he could not be easy in his mind till he had discovered to them the most wicked part of his life, which, from some small hopes of recovering, he had not yet disclosed. 'But,' continued he 'since I find it is impossible for me to live, I will no longer conceal it from you.
"'Know then, although I was never told it, I am sensible the relief I told you I often received in my greatest distresses was owing to the best of brothers; but I, instead of having my mind overflowing with gratitude for his goodness, in my own thoughts only despised his folly; for when we were young, from a desire of engrossing to myself all my father was worth, I contrived, while he lay on his death-bed, to burn his real will, and forge a new one in my own favour, in order to cheat
