The True Patriot/No. 24.

THE TRUE PATRIOT.

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No. 24. TUESDAY, April 15, 1746.

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 * &mdash; Medici mediam pertundite venam. JUV.

I HAVE heard it often objected to the friends of the government, when they have expressed their apprehensions of a Jacobite-party in this kingdom, that these fears were counterfeited, in order to form an argument for the support of a standing army, or to excuse some other ministerial schemes; for that, in reality, the very seeds of Jacobitism were destroyed, and rooted out from the minds of every Protestant British subject.

I am not ashamed to own myself to have been one of the many who were imposed on by these suggestions; I am much more concerned to see that this was an imposition, and that experience should at last have convinced every man that there are still some persons (an inconsiderable party indeed, when compared to the number of loyal subjects), who profess the Protestant religion, while they wish well to the designs of a Popish Pretender.

The principal motive which induced me to hold my former opinion, was the reasonableness of it. I disbelieved the existence of a Protestant Jacobitism, from the same principles which inspire me to deny our assent to many of these strange relations which certain voyage-writers recount to us. I looked upon such an animal as a greater monster, than the most romantic of these writers have ever described, and was therefore easily persuaded to credit those who very solemnly assured us, there was no such to be found in the land.

I have hitherto avoided any contest with these sort of gentlemen, not from the contempt of so poor a victory; for I should think my labours well bestowed, in bringing the weakest of them over to the cause of truth; but in plain fact, they are the last persons with whom I would willingly enter the lists of disputation, from absolute despair of success; for what is so difficult to answer as nothing, or what more impossible to be evinced, than the light of the sun to him who hath not eyes to discern it. I have therefore greatly admired the patriotism of those heroes, who have formerly wasted much of their time to prove, that millions were not intended by an all-good Being, for the use and wanton disposition of one man; that a Protestant church was not absolutely secure under the protection of a prince, who looks on himself as bound by his religion, and that on pain of damnation, to destroy it; that a magistrate, attempting to destroy those laws and constitutions which he was sworn and obliged to defend, forfeited that power which he so entirely perverted; with numberless other propositions equally plain and demonstrable, or rather indeed self-evident. So that if the absurdity of their tenets was not of itself sufficiently apparent, and did not glare them in the face, it hath been so irrefragably proved by the labours of those good men, who have undertaken the defence of the revolution, that the Jacobites of this age have no other excuse left, but that of not being able to read.

This is an excuse which I am sensible may be fairly pleaded by many, and those none of the least considerable pillars of the party. There have been, however, some who have not only read, but have endeavoured to answer these writers; and have very modestly attempted to oppose the common sense of mankind, in a point wherein their highest interest is concerned.

As such performances are seldom long-lived, few of them have reached our days; but the following letter, which I look upon as a very curious piece, and which was written in the reign of the late king William, contains, I believe, the sum of all those arguments which have been ever used on the behalf of Jacobitism; I shall, therefore, give it the reader, after having premised that it was written by a non-juror to his son at Oxford.

'DEAR SON,

I received yours of the 4th past, and am so well satisfied with your conduct on the birth-day of that old rump rogue with an orange, that I have sent you a draft on your tutor, according to your desire. As long as my son preserves his principles sound, I shall not be angry at any frolicks of youth. Provided, therefore, you never get drunk but on holidays (as the government are pleased to call them), and in toasting the damnation of the rump, and confusion to the day, &c., you may confess yourself freely, without fear of incurring my displeasure. I approve the company you keep much. Be sure not to herd with the sons of courtiers; for there is no conscience nor honesty in them; nor will the nation ever thrive till the king enjoys his own again; a health which I never fail to drink every day of my life in a bumper, and I hope you do the like. I shall never think I can remind you often enough of these matters; for I had rather see you hanged for your true king, than enjoying a place under this orange rascal, who has undone the nation. Our family have always, I thank God, been of the same kidney, and I hope will remain so to all posterity. It is the true old cause, and we will live and die by it, boy. Damn the rump; that is my motto. Old England will never see any good days, till it is thoroughly roasted. Your godfather, Sir John, dined with me yesterday: he asked kindly after you. We drank nine bottles a-piece of stum, and talked over all matters. We scarce uttered a word for which the rascally whigs would not have hanged us; but I desire no better from fellows who would pull down the church, if they had it in their power. I fear not, however, that it will be able to stand in spite of all their malice, and that I shall drink church and king as long as I live. You know what king I mean. God remove him from that side of the water on which he now is. Let every man have his own, I say, and I am sure that is the sentiment of an honest man; and one who abhors these persecuting rascals, who make men pay for their consciences. But do thou, my boy, rather submit to their power than court their favour; for right is right; and though might may overcome it, it can never be abolished. If kings derive their power from heaven, men can have no just pretence to deprive them of it. Orange hath no such right. We know he was made by men, and consequently his title cannot be deduced from heaven. Your tutor informs me, you have been in great apprehension for the church at Oxford, and we in the country agree it is in danger: but let her enemies do what they can, honest hearts will continue to drink to her preservation; and while the whigs see the unalterable determination of our party, they will always be afraid of executing their wicked purposes. As to taxes, we must expect them, while the government is in such hands, and the true king in banishment. A whig justice of peace, at the sessions the other day, had the impudence to tell me they were imposed by parliament; but how can that be a parliament which wants one part in three of its constituents; nay, and that the head. Is not the head superior to the body? And consequently, hath not the king a better right to impose taxes, than lords and commons without a king? Let right take place, say I, and then we will pay without grumbling; but to be taxed by a rump, a set of whigs and presbyterians, and fellows with an orange in their mouths; I will drink confusion to them as long as I can stand. However, I hope soon to see better times, and that we may change our healths, and drink to our friends openly; for we are assured here by some Roman Catholic priests, who are honester fellows than whigs, and may be brought over to go to church in time, that the French King will do his utmost to restore us again to our liberties and properties; for which reason we always drink his health and success, immediately after church and king, and confusion to the rump. I hope you will do the same at your club at Oxford; for take it from me as I have it from others, that all the hopes this nation has of being preserved is from that quarter. Indeed, there wants no other reason for our drinking him, than that the whigs are his enemies; for nothing can ever be good for this nation which those rascals wish well to. I am sure no one ever suspected me of wishing well to the Pope, and yet I would drink his health sooner than I would that of a presbyterian. I hope you will never converse with any such, but when you can't find true church of Englandmen, rather choose papists; for they are less enemies to our church; and that they would destroy it must be a lie, because the whigs say it: but confusion to them; and may the king enjoy his own again, will always be the toast of, &c.'