est
and popery. A tempest ensued, in which a greater part of the French
fleet was wrecked on the coast of Nova Scotia. The Duke D'Anville
committed suicide. Many died with disease, and thousands were consigned
to a watery grave. The small number who survived returned to France,
broken in health and spirits,--the enterprise was abandoned, and never
renewed." Many who were present have left accounts of Mr. Prince's
earnestness on this occasion.

Probably no two men could be more devoted to the religious interests of
their church and the community at large than these, yet Mr. Prince
records, eighteen years after the beginning of his pastorate, that the
ministers of Boston made an extraordinary effort to arrest the decay of
godliness, but with no abiding results, and this was particularly
noticeable in his own congregation. There seemed to be no change in this
respect until the coming of Whitfield, in 1740, when he preached "to
breathless thousands in the old South Church." Mr. Prince welcomed this
apostle with enthusiasm. His own sermons were full of vigor, and a
brilliant imagination embellished them with abundant illustrations, but
depth of thought and zealous research made the majority of his writings
far above the comprehension of the multitude. His printed funeral
sermons are quaint in their deep, black borders, with drawings of
death's heads similar to those that adorned the tombstones. His sermon
after the death of George I. may have embodied the feeling prevalent at
that time; but, in view of the more critical light thrown upon the
character and reigns of the Georges by historians and satirists of our
day, this eulogy is a curiosity, with its almost childish enthusiasm and
simple-hearted loyalty. The following are passages from his sermon:--

For my part, I shall never forget the joy that swelled my heart
when in the Splendid Procession, at his Coronation, preceded by all
the nobles of the kingdom and his son and heir-apparent, one other
hope, with their Ermine Robes and Coronets, that Royal face at
length appeared, which Heaven had in that moment sent to save these
Great Nations from the Brink of Ruin. Nor do I speak of it as my
case alone, but as what appeared to be the equal transport of the
multitudes around me. The tears of joy seemed to rise and swell in
every eye, and we were hardly able to give a shout thro' the
laboring passions that were swelling in us. H