Were talents such as these exercised in the service of truth, unbiased by party and prejudice, how could we sufficiently applaud their exalted possessor? But though frequently he made me tremble by his strong and horrible representations, his own violence recovered me, by stigmatizing his assertions with personal ill-will and designing illiberality. Yet, at times I confess, with all that I felt, wished, and thought concerning Mr. Hastings, the whirlwind of his eloquence nearly drew me into its vortex. I give no particulars of the speech, because they will all be printed.
The observations and whispers of our keen as well as honest James, during the whole, were highly characteristic and entertaining.
“When will he come to the point?"-“These are mere words!”—“This is all sheer detraction!”—“All this is nothing to the purpose!” etc., etc.
“Well, ma’am, what say you to all this? how have you been entertained?” cried a voice at my side; and I saw Mr. Crutchley, who came round to speak to me.
“Entertained?” cried I, “indeed, not at all, it is quite too serious and too horrible for entertainment: you ask after my amusement as if I were at an opera or a comedy.”
“A comedy?” repeated he, contemptuously, “no, a farce! It is not high enough for a comedy. To hear a man rant such stuff. But you should have been here the first day he spoke; this is milk and honey to that. He said then, ‘His heart was as black—as—black!’ and called him the captain-general of iniquity.”
“Hush! hush!” cried I, for he spoke very loud; “that young man you see down there, who is looking up, is his son.”
“I know it,” cried he, “and what do I care?” How I knew Mr. Crutchley again, by his ready talent of defiance, and disposition to contempt! I was called aside from him by James.
Mr. Crutchley retired, and Mr. Windham quitted his den, and approached me, with a smile of good-humour and satisfaction that made me instantly exclaim, “No exultation, Mr. Windham, no questions; don’t ask me what I think of the speech; I can bear no triumph just now.”
“No, indeed,” cried he, very civilly, “I will not, I promise you, and you may depend upon me.”