filled
with munitions of war for the French town. Here was a glorious
opportunity. If the saints could only intimate to Duchambon, the Governor
of Louisburgh, that his supplies had been cut off, Duchambon might think
of capitulation. But unfortunately the French were prejudiced against the
saints, and would not believe them under oath. But when probity fails, a
little ingenuity and artifice will do quite as well. The chief of the
expedition was equal to the emergency. He took the Marquis of Stronghouse
to the different ships on the station, where the French prisoners were
confined, and showed him that they were treated with great civility; then
he represented to the Marquis that the New England prisoners were cruelly
dealt with in the fortress of Louisburgh; and requested him to write a
letter, in the name of humanity, to Duchambon, Governor, in behalf of
those suffering saints; "expressing his approbation of the conduct of the
English, and entreating similar usuage for those whom the fortune of war
had thrown in his hands." The Marquis wrote the letter; thus it begins:
"On board the 'Vigilant,' _where I am a prisoner_, before Louisburgh, June
thirteen, 1745." The rest of the letter is unimportant. The confession of
Captain Stronghouse, that he was a prisoner, was the point; and the
consequences thereof, which had been foreseen by the filibustering
besiegers, speedily followed. In three days Louisburgh capitulated.

Then the Rev. Samuel Moody greatly distinguished himself. He was a painful
preacher; the most untiring, persevering, long-winded, clamorous,
pertinacious vessel at craving a blessing, in the provinces. There was a
great feast in honor of the occasion. But more formidable than the siege
itself, was the anticipated "grace" of Brother Moody. New England held its
breath when he began, and thus the Reverend Samuel: "Good Lord, we have so
many things to thank Thee for, that time will be infinitely too short to
do it; we must therefore leave it for the work of eternity."

Upon this there was great rejoicing, yea, more than there had been upon
the capture of the French stronghold. Who shall say whether Brother
Moody's brevity may not stretch farther across the intervals of time than
the longest preaching ever preached by mortal preacher?

In three years after its capture, Louisburgh was restored to the French by
the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. Ten years after its restoration, a heavier
armament, a greater fleet, a