Some weeks elapsed before the Tories ventured again to attack him.  In the meantime they amused themselves by trying to worry another person whom they hated even more bitterly.  When, in a financial debate, the arrangements of the household of the Duke of Gloucester were incidentally mentioned, one or two members took the opportunity of throwing reflections on Burnet.  Burnet’s very name sufficed to raise among the High Churchmen a storm of mingled merriment and anger.  The Speaker in vain reminded the orators that they were wandering from the question.  The majority was determined to have some fun with the Right Reverend Whig, and encouraged them to proceed.  Nothing appears to have been said on the other side.  The chiefs of the opposition inferred from the laughing and cheering of the Bishop’s enemies, and from the silence of his friends, that there would be no difficulty in driving from Court, with contumely, the prelate whom of all prelates they most detested, as the personification of the latitudinarian spirit, a Jack Presbyter in lawn sleeves.  They, therefore, after the lapse of a few hours, moved quite unexpectedly an address requesting the King to remove the Bishop of Salisbury from the place of preceptor to the young heir apparent.  But it soon appeared that many who could not help smiling at Burnet’s weaknesses did justice to his abilities and virtues.  The debate was hot.  The unlucky Pastoral Letter was of course not forgotten.  It was asked whether a man who had proclaimed that England was a conquered country, a man whose servile pages the English Commons had ordered to be burned by the hangman, could be a fit instructor for an English Prince.  Some reviled the Bishop for being a Socinian, which he was not, and some for being a Scotchman, which he was.  His defenders fought his battle gallantly.  “Grant,” they said, “that it is possible to find, amidst an immense mass of eloquent and learned matter published in defence of the Protestant religion and of the English Constitution, a paragraph which, though well intended, was not well considered, is that error of an unguarded minute to outweigh the services of more than twenty years?  If one House of Commons, by a very small majority, censured a little tract of which his Lordship was the author, let it be remembered that another House of Commons unanimously voted thanks to him for a work of very different magnitude and importance, the History of the Reformation.  And, as to what is said about his birthplace, is there not already ill humour enough in Scotland?  Has not the failure of that unhappy expedition to Darien raised a sufficiently bitter feeling against us throughout that kingdom?  Every wise and honest man is desirous to soothe the angry passions of our neighbours.  And shall we, just at this moment, exasperate those passions by proclaiming that to be born on the north of the Tweed is a disqualification for all honourable trust?” The ministerial members would gladly have permitted