Though feelings of acrimony towards these persons were entirely deadened in me by the spectacle I beheld, yet I knew not well how to behave. I was prompted to shew them how placable I was become, by accosting them first: but this might be misconstrued into that servility for which I had thought of them with so much contempt. Beside, the bishop and the president, if not the tutor, were in the phraseology of the world my superiors; and etiquette had established the rule that, if they thought proper to notice me, they would be the first to salute.
His lordship however eased me of farther trouble on this head, by asking the bishop—'Have you forgotten your old acquaintance Mr. Trevor, my lord?'
What answer this consecrated right reverend father returned I could not hear. He muttered something: but the sounds were as unintelligible as the features of his face; or the drooping deadness of his eyes. The president, however, hearing this, thought proper to bow: though very slightly, till the earl added, with a significant emphasis on the two last words—'Sir Barnard is become Mr. Trevor's particular friend;' which was no sooner pronounced than the countenances of both the bishop's supporters changed, to something which might be called exceedingly civil, in the tutor, and prodigiously condescending, in the president.
This was a memorable day: and, if the event which I have now to relate should be offensive to the feelings of any man, or any class of men, I can only say that I share the common fate of historians: who, though they should relate nothing but facts, never fail to excite displeasure, if not resentment and persecution, in the partisans of this or that particular opinion, faction, or establishment.
The dinner was served. It was sumptuous: or rather such as gluttony delights in. The persons assembled, I am sorry to say it, were several of them gluttons; and encouraged and countenanced each other in the vice to which they were addicted.
Dish succeeded to dish: and one plateful was but devoured that another and another might be gorged.
Fatal insensibility to the warning voice of experience!
Incomprehensible blindness!
The poor bishop was unable to resist his destiny.
I had a foreboding of the mischief that might result from a stomach at once so debilitated and so overloaded. I wished to have spoken: I was tempted to exclaim—'Rash man, beware!' I could not keep my eyes away from him: till at length I suddenly remarked a strange appearance, that came over his face; and, almost at the same instant, he dropped from his chair in an apoplectic fit.
The description of his foaming mouth, distorted features, dead eyes, the whites of which only were to be seen, his writhings, his—