Upon the 6th of June, as the Prolocutor and others of the Lower House crowded the little Organ Chamber, whom should they find there, quietly putting on his robes, but the Welsh Bishop, whom they so much disliked. Looking at him, the incensed president of the Lower Clergy asked, according to one version, “Were you pleased to say in the Upper House that I lied to you?” According to a second, “My Lord of Bangor, did you say I lied?” The Bishop answered, in some disorder, “I did not say you lied; but I did say, or might say, that you told me a very great untruth.” Amidst threats and demands of satisfaction, the Prelate was glad to get out of the noise of the crowded anteroom into the serene atmosphere of the more spacious chamber; which, however, as soon as the Prolocutor had been admitted within the door, witnessed a renewal of personal strife. Bishop Humphreys adhering to his statement about what had taken place, and Dean Hooper adhering to his, something still worse immediately followed. The Prolocutor having inquired whether their Lordships had entered upon their Acts any reflections upon him, Tenison rejoined, with all his rock-like firmness, and all his prudent control of temper, “Acts, we have no acts, only minutes.” The Prolocutor’s inquiry proved too much for Burnet, the person attacked in the paper, who now—with characteristic impetuosity, his round face no doubt flushed with scarlet—cried aloud with a sonorous voice, “This is fine, indeed. The Lower House will not allow a committee to inspect their books, and now they demand to see ours.” “I ask nothing,” exclaimed the Prolocutor, “but what I am concerned to know, and what of right I may demand.” “This,” retorted Burnet, “is according to your usual insolence.” “Insolence, my Lord, do you give me that word?” asked the other. “Yes, insolence,” reiterated the Bishop of Salisbury; “you deserve that word, and worse. Think what you will of yourself, I know what you are.” The Archbishop, wondering whereunto all this might grow, civilly interposed, that perhaps the Prolocutor had been misrepresented, which the Prolocutor turned to his own advantage, and, to Burnet’s annoyance, wound up this extraordinary altercation with the remark, that he was “satisfied if in this matter he stood right in their Lordships’ opinion; about what his Lordship of Salisbury pleased to think, he felt not much concerned.” Back went the Dean to Henry the VII.’s Chapel, determined to make the best of the business to the Clergy, who sat down to hear his report; but when he said that the Upper House had expressed their satisfaction, or seemed to be satisfied (for the ipsissima verba in these contentions were continually coming into question), up rose one who had attended him to the Bishops’ chamber, to say, “he must do this justice to declare, that their Lordships did not so much as seem to be satisfied, but had showed their partiality.”[343]
CONVOCATION.
Another heap of fuel was by all this cast upon the already blazing fire, and it was moved that the House should resent the indignity offered to their Prolocutor in the execution of his office, and return him thanks for his conduct.
The House recorded in its minutes the following entry: “Whereas the reverend the Prolocutor hath been hardly treated in the Upper House, and particularly this 6th day of June, 1701, was taxed by the Bishop of Salisbury as behaving himself with his usual insolence, saying further, he deserved that and worse words, we cannot but resent this great indignity offered to our Prolocutor and this House; and, therefore, take this opportunity to return our most humble thanks for his conduct in the faithful and recent discharge of his office upon all occasions.”
1701.
The Upper House, on the 13th of June, determined that the Lower had no power judicially to censure any book; that it ought not to have entered upon the examination of one by a Bishop, without acquainting the Bishops with it; that the censure on the Bishop of Sarum’s work was in general terms, without any citation of passages; that the Bishop had done great service by his History of the Reformation, and other writings; and that, though private persons might expound the Articles, it was not proper for Convocation to enter upon such a subject. They also resolved, that the Bishop of Bangor had made a true and just report of what had taken place between himself and the Prolocutor; that the paper read by the latter did not relate to the irregularity complained of; and that his answer was such as ought not to have been given to his Grace, or to any member of the Upper House.
Convocation was prorogued to the 7th of August, then to the 18th of September, and was at length dissolved with the Parliament.
CONVOCATION.
All the Prelates, with three exceptions, concurred in these proceedings. The exceptions were Compton, Bishop of London; Trelawny, Bishop of Exeter; and Sprat, who, with the Deanery of Westminster, held the Bishopric of Rochester.
Compton, after his extreme liberalism and low churchmanship at the time of the Revolution, had, by the end of the century—soured, perhaps, by being twice passed over in appointments to the primacy—become a decided Tory; and now he threw his influence into the High-Church scale, without, however, making himself conspicuous in the Convocation controversy. Trelawny, one of the seven Bishops, had been immensely popular in his native county at the time of the great trial, and had formed the burden of a Cornish ballad—