And never did a man submit to infamy for anything but its true reward, _money_. Money he received; the infamy he received along with it: he was glad to take his wife with all her goods; he took her with her full portion, with every species of infamy that belonged to her; and your Lordships cannot resist the opinion that he would not have suffered himself to be disgraced with the Court of Directors, disgraced with his colleagues, disgraced with the world, disgraced upon an eternal record, unless he was absolutely guilty of the fact that was charged upon him. He frequently expresses that he reserves himself for a court of justice. Does he, my Lords? I am sorry that Mr. Hastings should show that he always mistakes his situation; he has totally mistaken it: he was a servant, bound to give a satisfactory account of his conduct to his masters, and, instead of that, he considers himself and the Court of Directors as litigant parties,--them as the accusers, and himself as the culprit. What would your Lordships, in private life, conceive of a steward who was accused of embezzling the rents, robbing and oppressing the tenants, and committing a thousand misdeeds in his stewardship, and who, upon your wishing to make inquiry into his conduct, and asking an explanation of it, should answer, "I will give no reply: you may intend to prosecute me and convict me as a cheat, and therefore I will not give you any satisfaction": what would you think of that steward? You could have no doubt that such a steward was a person not fit to be a steward, nor fit to live. Mr. Hastings reserves himself for a court of justice: that single circumstance, my Lords, proves that he was guilty. It may appear very odd that his guilt should be inferred from his desire of trial in a court in which he could be acquitted or condemned. But I shall prove to you from that circumstance that Mr. Hastings, in desiring to be tried in a court of justice, convicts himself of presumptive guilt.