Injustice had by this time become so familiar to me that, scourged
even to frenzy as I was, I sat rather stunned than transfixed by the
blow. That this was the very defence of the articles I had written did
not, with me, admit of a moment's doubt. Every thing I had heard or
remarked, of this wicked but weak church governor, had afforded proof
of his incapacity for such a task; yet the injustice, effrontery and
vice of the act was what till seen could not have been believed!
Nor did its baseness end here. What could I suppose, but that the
bishop had been assiduously tampering with the president; that they
and the earl were in a conspiracy against me; that this was the cause
of the disgrace and insult put upon me; and that, having robbed me
of my writings, there was a concerted and fixed plan to render me
contemptible, take away my character, and devote me to ruin?
The longer I thought the more painful were the sensations that
assaulted me. I had already been complaining to the whole city. Some
few indeed seemed to credit me; but more to suspect; and none heard of
my treatment with that glowing detestation which my feelings required.
Were I to tell this new tale, incredibly atrocious as it was, what
would men think, but that I was a general calumniator, a frantic
egotist, and a man dangerous to society? The total inability that I
felt in myself, to obtain ample and immediate justice, almost drove me
mad.
I had previously determined to quit Oxford, and this new goad did but
quicken my departure. My preparations were soon made; and from some
vague, and to myself undefined ideas, partly of expedition, and partly
of letting the president, the college, and the whole university see
that I, Hugh Trevor, was no ordinary person, a chaise and four waited
my commands at the gate about noon the next day, behind which my goods
and chattels were buckled, and I, after taking leave of the two or
three friends who were thoughtless or courageous enough to acknowledge
me, threw myself indignantly into it, with more maledictions in my
heart than my impatient tongue could find energy to utter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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