and asked, ‘Does the fellow mean that Brandy Nan was better than King George?’ [Sidenote: _JACOBITE CLUBS._] In the Tory pamphlet, ‘Hannibal not at our gates,’ the writer sought to persuade the people that there was no danger a-foot. In the Whig pamphlet ‘Hannibal at our gates, or the progress of Jacobitism, with the present danger of the Pretender,’ &c., Londoners were especially warned of the reality of the peril. The Jacobite clubs, it was said, had ceased to toast the Jacobite king, or ‘impostor,’ under feigned names. They were described as ‘so many publick training schools where the youth of the nation were disciplined into an opinion of the justice of his title,’ and into various other opinions which were strongly denounced. The writer has an especial grievance in the fact that an honest Englishman cannot show respect to King William by keeping his birthday, without running the chance of being in the Counter as a rioter, if he only happens to fall into the hands of a Tory magistrate. Respect for princes, according to this Whig, is a courteous duty, and, forthwith, he speaks of the Chevalier as a ‘notorious bastard,’ and of his mother, Mary of Modena, as a ‘woman of a bloody and revengeful temper.’ [Sidenote: _ROYALTIES._] Rash deeds followed harsh words. Among the persons assaulted in the streets, on political grounds, was the Duke of Richmond, who was roughly treated one dark night. Such an attack on a Duke who was an illegitimate son of the Stuart King Charles II., by a Popish mistress, Louise de Querouaille, was taken by the Government as a certain evidence of a perhaps too exuberant loyalty. Nevertheless, the king continued to go about without fear. He drove almost unattended to dine or sup with various gentlemen and noblemen. We hear that ‘His Majesty honoured Sir Henry St. John, father of Viscount Bolingbroke, with his royal presence at dinner.’ The king thus sat at table with a man whose son he would unreluctantly have hanged! As for the Prince and Princess of Wales, they were as often at the play in times of personal danger, as princes and princesses are in times of no peril whatever. Perhaps they trusted a little in the proclamation against Papists and Nonjurors, whereby the former were disarmed, and were (or could be) confined to their houses, or be kept to a limit within five miles of their residences. The oath of allegiance was to be taken by all disaffected persons, and among the drollest street scenes of the day was that of some Dogberry stopping a man on the causeway and testing his loyalty by putting him on his affidavit! [Sidenote: _AT ST. JAMES’S._]