In the third place, the Whigs accuse us of a design to bring in the Pretender; and to give it a greater air of probability, they suppose the Qu[een] to be a party in this design; which however, is no very extraordinary supposition in those who have advanced such singular paradoxes concerning Gregg and Guiscard. Upon this article, their charge is general, without ever offering to produce an instance. But I verily think, and believe it will appear no paradox, that if ever he be brought in, the Whigs are his men. For, first, it is an undoubted truth, that a year or two after the Revolution, several leaders of that party had their pardons sent them by the late King James,[9] and had entered upon measures to restore him, on account of some disobligations they received from King William. Besides, I would ask, whether those who are under the greatest ties of gratitude to King James, are not at this day become the most zealous Whigs? And of what party those are now, who kept a long correspondence with St. Germains? It is likewise very observable of late, that the Whigs upon all occasions, profess their belief of the Pretender's being no impostor, but a real prince, born of the late Queen's body:[10] which whether it be true or false, is very unseasonably advanced, considering the weight such an opinion must have with the vulgar, if they once thoroughly believe it. Neither is it at all improbable, that the Pretender himself puts his chief hopes in the friendship he expects from the Dissenters and Whigs, by his choice to invade the kingdom when the latter were most in credit: and he had reason to count upon the former, from the gracious treatment they received from his supposed father, and their joyful acceptance of it. But further, what could be more consistent with the Whiggish notion of a revolution-principle, than to bring in the Pretender? A revolution-principle, as their writings and discourses have taught us to define it, is a principle perpetually disposing men to revolutions: and this is suitable to the famous saying of a great Whig, "That the more revolutions the better"; which how odd a maxim soever in appearance, I take to be the true characteristic of the party. A dog loves to turn round often; yet after certain revolutions, he lies down to rest: but heads, under the dominion of the moon, are for perpetual changes, and perpetual revolutions: besides, the Whigs owe all their wealth to wars and revolutions; like the girl at Bartholomew-fair, who gets a penny by turning round a hundred times, with swords in her hands.[11] To conclude, the Whigs have a natural faculty of bringing in pretenders, and will therefore probably endeavour to bring in the great one at last: How many _pretenders_ to wit, honour, nobility, politics, have they brought in these last twenty years? In short, they have been sometimes able to procure a majority of pretenders in Parliament; and wanted nothing to render the work complete, except a Pretender at their head.