sufficient to justify legal conviction. He could be reached only
by a bill of pains and penalties. Such a bill the Whig party,
then decidedly predominant in both houses, was quite prepared to
support. Many hot-headed members of that party were eager to
follow the precedent which had been set in the case of Sir John
Fenwick, and to pass an act for cutting off the bishop's head.
Cadogan, who commanded the army, a brave soldier, but a
headstrong politician, is said to have exclaimed with great
vehemence: "Fling him to the lions in the Tower." But the wiser
and more humane Walpole was always unwilling to shed blood; and
his influence prevailed. When Parliament met, the evidence
against the bishop was laid before committees of both houses.
Those committees reported that his guilt was proved. In the
Commons a resolution, pronouncing him a traitor, was carried by
nearly two to one. A bill was then introduced which provided
that he should be deprived of his spiritual dignities, that he
should be banished for life, and that no British subject should
hold any intercourse with him except by the royal permission.

This bill passed the Commons with little difficulty. For the
bishop, though invited to defend himself, chose to reserve his
defence for the assembly of which he was a member. In the Lords
the contest was sharp. The young Duke of Wharton, distinguished
by his parts, his dissoluteness, and his versatility, spoke for
Atterbury with great effect; and Atterbury's own voice was heard
for the last time by that unfriendly audience which had so often
listened to him with mingled aversion and delight. He produced
few witnesses; nor did those witnesses say much that could be of
service to him. Among them was Pope. He was called to prove
that, while he was an inmate of the palace at Bromley, the