‘We hear that on Monday last, a certain Bishop’s Chaplain preach’d a wonderful sermon not far from Somerset House. The subject was, Honour the King——. The words, Fear God, in the same verse, he had no mind to trouble his Hearers with, and therefore disjoin’d what the Holy Writer had put together. What was most remarkable in the odd Composition of the Discourse was the Flow of uncouth Similies and Comparisons; particularly he compar’d his Majesty’s subjects to Monkeys pricking and playing with their Tails in China-shops, and by their Gambols throwing down the Wares. His Majesty himself escap’d not a Strook of his queer Wit, for he was compar’d to a Surgeon who first gives Physick before he probes the Wound. He considered, by the By, the wise Ends of proroguing the Convocation which, he said, are not proper to be known at present, but would appear to be all very good, in their Time. We hear the Congregation have desired the favour of him not to preach there any more.’

Atterbury’s probable doom was made a subject of coarse humour after a manner which was uproariously approved in Whig coteries. For example, the ‘British Journal,’ March 23rd, says:—‘What will be the fate of a certain Prelate is not yet known, but if his fears are of the same complexion with those that influenced his Sire, he will not be hang’d, for as ’tis story’d of him—he was drown’d as he resolutely cross’d at a Ferry on Horseback, when Two Pence might have sav’d him. This he thought a fare too much for Charon.’ At the same time, a tender treatment was adopted towards some of the other accused persons. Lord Orrery was said to be ill. A conference of physicians was accordingly held (by command of the Secretary of State) at the Cockpit, on Lord Orrery’s health; a result was come to which is indicated in the following paragraph: ‘On Thursday evening, the Earl of Orrery was carried privately from the Tower to Whitehall, and admitted to Bail in a Recognizance of 200,000l.;—himself in 100,000l., and his Sureties, the Earl of Burlington and the Lord Carlton, in the rest. His Lordship lay that night at his House in Glass-House Street, near Piccadilly, and will, as we hear, remove, in a day or two, to his Seat of Brittall in Buckinghamshire.’

TREATMENT OF ATTERBURY.

On the 4th of April, Atterbury being then at dinner, in the Tower, the room was suddenly and unceremoniously entered by Col. Williamson (the Deputy-Lieutenant of the Tower), Mr. Serjeant (the Gentleman Porter), and two Warders. The Colonel abruptly intimated to Atterbury that he had come to search him. ‘Show your warrant,’ said the prelate. ‘I have warrant by word of mouth,’ was the reply; but when the Colonel was asked from whom he held it, he only declared, on his salvation, that he had a verbal order from the Ministry, and would name no other authority. The bishop appears to have been harshly treated, and he was deprived of everything he possessed. Atterbury immediately petitioned the House of Lords, and a motion was consequently made, that the above-named officials should be brought to answer for their conduct before the House. The motion was lost by fifty-six against thirty-four; but fifteen of the minority entered a strong protest, on the ground that the House by its decision seemed to justify the depriving an accused person of his papers and other means of defence, and the violence by which the illegal deprivation had been carried out.

OGLETHORPE AND ATTERBURY.

A fair sample of the spirit of that part of the Opposition which could not be said to be anti-Hanoverian, was afforded by Oglethorpe, a member of the House of Commons, when, on April 6th, it was proposed that the Bill against Atterbury should be read a third time, and passed. ‘It is plain,’ said this gentleman, ‘the Pretender has none but a company of silly fellows about him, and it was to be feared that if the Bishop, who was allowed to be a man of great parts, should be banished, he might be tempted and solicited to go to Rome, and there be in a capacity to do more mischief by his advice than if he was suffered to stay in England under the watchful eye of those in power.’ The Bill passed, nevertheless.

Some days later, Atterbury addressed an earnest letter to Viscount Townshend. He was thankful (he said) for being allowed to see his daughter ‘any way;’ but the boon was marred by official circumstance;—namely, the presence of an officer during the interview. Father and child had been separated for eight months. By the passing of the Bill against him, they might be separated for ever. The Jacobite prelate implored for permission to talk in strict privacy, with one who was so near and so dear to him.

A little before that letter was written, Sir John Shaw wrote to his wife some account of what was being done in London against the Jacobites. He tells, joyfully, how the Whigs carried a bill of Pains and Penalties in the House against John Plunkett, and how ‘the Torryes lay by.’ That against Kelly, alias Johnston, had like success. ‘So, he is like to be a jayl bird for the rest of his days.’ Then comes a Whig fling at Atterbury. ‘We shall be on the Bishop on Thursday, who probably will be banyshed.’ While the process was going on in the Commons, Sir John wrote: ‘I count we shall be done with him to-morrow, for we sit down sometimes at nine o’clock in the morning, and do not raise until ten o’clock.’

IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS.

The bishop’s trial before the Lords, if it may be so called, began on the 9th of April. This was the day on which the Bill of Pains and Penalties (framed against him on letters which had fallen into the hands of ministers, or on hearsay and circumstantial evidence) was read for the first time. The proceedings were of an extraordinary character.