‘There are still many gentlemen of figure and fortune among us who openly profess their attachment to the Pretender. There is a sort of enthusiastic spirit of disaffection that still prevails among the vulgar; and there is too great a number of men of all ranks and conditions who now seem to be true friends to the Protestant Succession who would declare themselves otherwise, if they thought they could do so without running any great or unequal risk. These considerations shall always make me jealous of the Jacobite party’s getting any opportunity to rebel, and this they have always thought they had, and always will think they have, when they see the nation destitute of troops, for which reason, I shall always be for keeping in the island such a number of regular troops as may be sufficient for awing them into obedience.... The danger of an invasion from abroad, with the Pretender at the head of it, is equally to be apprehended.’ Alluding to Spain with whom we were at war, Mr. Winnington said: ‘She will use every art that can be thought of for throwing into this island 8 or 10,000 men of her best troops, with the Pretender and some of his adherents at their head.’ Mr. Carew believed that there were very few men in England who would join the Pretender, if he invaded it, and that in such case he would speedily be overwhelmed. The motion was, however, successful by 280 to 269. [Sidenote: _IN LEICESTER FIELDS._] The popularity of the Prince of Wales was manifested in a singular way this year. It was known that he was about to take up his residence in Leicester Fields. The place was in some degree beautified for the occasion, and the grass in the centre was enclosed by a neat wooden railing. On the first night of the arrival of the Prince and his family, the congratulating mob pulled down the rails, piled them up in front of Leicester House, and kindled a bonfire which nearly ignited the doors of the mansion. The Prince, however, sent out his thanks to the mob for their civility, and he promised to adorn the enclosure with a statue of the king his father――a promise which he failed to keep, and probably never meant to do so. A statue of George I., brought from Canons, the seat of the Duke of Chandos, was put up there in 1748. The new sect of Methodists was now creating suspicion. Some friends of the Happy Establishment looked upon them with even more aversion than they bestowed on the Jacobites. At the execution of two criminals, the Prince of Wales sent one of his chaplains (Mr. Howard) to afford them spiritual comfort. But, they were also attended by a Mr. Simms, who, says the ‘Whitehall Evening Post,’ ‘was formerly a butcher, but lately a strict follower of the modern Methodists.’ The orthodox ‘Post’ adds:――‘By the Influence of whose Doctrine these hardened Wretches were brought to Penitence, we need not point out to our Readers.’ [Sidenote: _AWAKING OF JACOBITES._]