clamour did the Ministry give way; and to secure tranquillity to their elections, submitted to repeal the Bill. It is worth while to recapitulate some instances of the capriciousness of the times. An inglorious peace had been made, and the first hostages imposed that ever this country gave: not a murmur followed. The Regency Bill, with the tremendous clause of _præmunire_, had been passed without occasioning a pamphlet. The Marriage Bill, that bane of society, that golden grate that separates the nobility from the plebeians, had not excited a complaint from the latter. A trifling Bill, that opened some inconsiderable advantages to a corps of men, with whom we live, traffic, converse, could alarm the whole nation--it did more: a cabal of Ministers, who had insulted their master with impunity, who had betrayed every ally and party with success, and who had crammed down every Bill that was calculated for their own power, yielded to transitory noise, and submitted to fight under the banners of prophecy, in order to carry a few more members in another Parliament. I shall be very brief on the Debates that attended this repeal; the topic was foolish, the chief speakers not considerable, the events not memorable. On the very day the Houses met, the Duke of Newcastle moved to repeal the Bill, which, he said, had only been a point of _political policy_. The Bishop of Oxford undertook the apology of his Bench, and (though in a manner too ironic) defended them well, for having given way to a Bill, which they had considered only in a political light, had never much liked, and were glad to have repealed, to quiet the minds of good people. Drummond of St. Asaph, sensibly and in a more manly style, urged that the Bishops could not have opposed the Bill without indulging a spirit of persecution, abhorrent from the spirit of the Gospel. Lord Temple, with his accustomed warmth, opposed the repeal, grew zealous for the honour of a Ministry which he wanted to censure, and protested against the Legislature listening to clamour, which was less intended to serve the Protestant Religion, than to wound the Protestant Succession. Loved he did the Liberty of the Press, yet thought the abuse in the Daily Papers ought to be noticed. He had never listened to popular clamour, nor always thought that the voice of the people was the voice of God. That the approaching general election had given foundation to this uproar, and therefore should not have wondered at a repeal being consented to by the other House, but for the Lords to consent, would be subscribing to the accusation. Lord Temple was still more violent on the second reading; pronounced the clamour disaffection clothed in superstition, and a detestable high-church spirit: trembled lest the Plantation Act should be repealed; trembled lest fires should be rekindled in Smithfield to burn Jews; shuddered at our exceeding the heinous days of Charles the Second, who, though he oppressed Presbyterians, encouraged Jews.