ple?

But what would be his conclusion, sir, when he should be told, what in
reality is true, that this dreadful pretender is an unhappy fugitive,
driven in his infancy from this country, and by consequence without any
personal interest; that he is supported by the charity of a prince whose
name is hated almost by every inhabitant of the kingdom; that he has
neither sovereignty, nor money, nor alliances, nor reputation in war,
nor skill in policy; that all his actions are watched by British spies;
and that the few friends that remain to support the farce of a court,
are such only as dare not return to their native country, and are,
therefore, without fortune, and without dependants?

What could a wise man conceive of a nation held in continual alarms by
an enemy like this; of a nation always watchful against an invasion from
a man who has neither dominions to supply, nor money to hire a single
regiment; from a man whose title all the neighbouring princes disown,
and who is at such a distance from them, that he cannot be assisted by
them without open preparations, of which we cannot fail of having
intelligence, and which may be defeated, without danger, by the vessels
regularly stationed on our coasts?

Would not any stranger imagine, sir, that we were a nation infected with
a general phrensy, that cowardice had perverted our imaginations, filled
us with apprehensions of impossible invasions, raised phantoms before
our eyes, and distracted us with wild ideas of slavery and tyranny,
oppression and persecution?

I have dwelt thus long on this point, because I know the pretender is
the last refuge of those who defend a standing army; not that I propose
to convince any man of the folly of such apprehensions, or to fortify
him against such terrours for the time to come; for if any man, in
reality, now dreads the pretender, fear must be his distemper; he is
doomed to live in terrours, and it is of no importance whether he dreads
an invasion or a goblin, whether he is afraid to disband the army, or to
put out his candle in the night; his imagination is tainted, and he must
be cured, not by argument, but by physick.

But the greatest part of those who disturb our consultations with the
mention of the pretender, are men of a very different character, men
equally unconcerned about his designs, or his motions, with those who
are most desirous of setting the nation free from the burden of an army,
and very often such as we may