MISINTERPRETATION OF PROVIDENCE; 
 
 D I S C U R S E 
 
 Delivered at Marblehead, December, 1846. 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DISASTERS AT SEA, SEPT. 19, 1846. 
 
 BY EDWARD A. LAWRENCE, 
 
 Pastor of the First Church in Marblehead. 
 
 WITH AN APPENDIX, 
 
 CON \N ACCOUNT OF THE DEDICATION OF THE MONUMENT, 
 
 ANT) THE NAMES OF TIIE PERSONS LOST TN 
 
 THAT TERRIBLE GALE. 
 
 MARBLEHEAD: 
 
 MERCURY PRESS, WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 i«48. 
 
MISINTERPRETATION OF PROVIDENCE; 
 
 1) ISC0UR8E 
 
 Delivered at Marblehead, December, 1846. 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DISASTERS AT SEA, SEPT. 19, 1846, 
 
 BY EDWARD A. LAWRENCE, 
 
 Pastor of the First Church in Murblehead. 
 
 WITH AN APPENDIX, 
 
 CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF THE PEPIC VTION OF THE MONUMENT, 
 
 A XT) THE NAMES OF TnE PERSONS LOST TN 
 
 TnAT TERRIBLE GALE. 
 
 MARBLEHEAD: 
 MERCURY TRESS, WASHINGTON STREBT. 
 
 18-iS. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF MASSACHUSETTS 
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 UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
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DISCOURSE. 
 
 Genesis xlii. 3G. 
 
 All these things are against me. 
 
 This is the language of deep despondency. The venerable patriarch 
 who makes use of it, had arrived at that period of life when the grass- 
 hopper is a burden. Famine had been added to the bereavement which 
 lie suffered from the supposed loss of his son Joseph. Simeon was now 
 detained a prisoner in Egypt, he knew not from what evil design, and 
 it had become necessary for Benjamin to be carried down also. The 
 good man, not perceiving the end whereunto these things "would 
 grow," misunderstood the providences of God, and construed them all 
 ;ts against him. " Me have ye bereaved of my children ; Joseph is not, 
 and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away. All these things 
 are against me." 
 
 But how far this inference was from the true condition of things, he 
 was soon to »ee. Joseph was not dead, but alive, and not only alive, but 
 well, and not only well, but a powerful prince in Egypt. Simeon was 
 indeed a prisoner, but for no evil purpose. And the requisition was 
 made for Benjamin, only as preliminary to bringing into Egypt the pa- 
 triarch himself with his numerous family. Here they are not to be held 
 as captives in the hands of their conquerors, but cherished with respect 
 and affection by their brother whom they had sold into bondage, and his 
 u , son that was lost but now is found/' Thus Jacob's desponding inter- 
 pretation of providence proved & misinterpretation. Those things which 
 he concluded to be against him, were really for him. For, had there 
 been no famine in the land, he would not have sent his sons into Egypt. 
 But had they come not down to Egypt, they would not have found (heir 
 brother And 1>-«1 U..-v »w,t f..nn.d hinu they would have found no corn 
 
in Egypt if they had gone there; for by his interpretation of the visions 
 of the royal dreamer, it was that the seven years of famine were pre-an- 
 nounced, and by his direction that corn was reserved from the preceding 
 years of plenty. Hence the father *was to be cherished by the son 
 whom he had mourned as lost, and preserved by those means which he 
 thought were surely to destroy Mm. 
 
 In a similar manner men often misinterpret the providences of God, 
 and misinterpreting, they repine at them and murmur when they 
 might be acquiescent and content. They understand them not, because 
 they do not so reflect upon them and compare them with other 
 providential events, and with the word of God, as to perceive his design, 
 and the ends which they may be made to subserve. We, my hearers, 
 from the peculiar afflictions which have been recently brought upon us 
 by disasters upon the sea, are liable to the same despondency and mis- 
 construction. The last season has been one of universal sorrow and suf- 
 fering to the citizens of this town. It is my wish, in addressing y«u 
 upon this mournful theme, to present such thoughts as may be most 
 suited to vindicate the ways of God, and, by leading to a right interpre*- 
 tation of these afflictive providences, to show wherein these things may be 
 for rather than against us. 
 
 From the earliest settlement of this town, its inhabitants have been 
 largely engaged in the fisheries. At some former periods in its his- 
 tory, it is said that a hundred and fifty schooners have been em- 
 ployed at one time in this business. From the disastrous consequences 
 of the wars with Great Britain, the number had becc..:. very much 
 reduced. In the spring of the present year, fifty v< read their 
 
 canvass to catch the spendthrift winds, and sailing seven or eight hun- 
 dred miles, a little north of east, arrived at the Banks of Newfoundland. 
 Each of these vessels contained seven men — in all three hundred and 
 fifty. Here they plough the tumultuous prairies, wherein are fattened 
 numerous finny herds to be "meat" for man, and dropping the reins 
 upon the neck of their huge oak-ribbed, aquatic steeds, u they cast in 
 the hook and take up the fish that first eometh up." 
 
 The vicissitudes of the season were much as usual until the 19th of 
 September. Two days before, to the practised eye of the mariner, the 
 dark clouds lying along the eat<tern horizon, and the heavy seas rolling 
 from the west, were portentous of the approaching storm. The night 
 of the 18th was dark and foggy : in the early part of Saturday, the 19th, 
 a gentle breeze arose and swept from the bosom of the ocean the dense 
 fog which had lain upon it, but which soon filled the air with the thick 
 " wind food." From nine o'clock in the morning till three in the afteD* 
 
moon, the wind increased from a mild zephyr to a violent gale. In the 
 meantime the men were preparing themselves, as b< -t the »orae 
 
 to ride out the storm, and some to nm before the wind. "They mount 
 up to heaven, they go down again to the depths; their soul ia d 
 cause of trouble.* 1 Between three and four o'clock, the wind suddenly 
 changed, creating cross-seas, and bringing them into that Bcult 
 
 of all conditions in which to guide a Bhip, a "place where two seas 
 meet." Now came their hour of trial. They wen; in the mi 1st of a 
 furious gale, .and their ships were rolling, and leaping, and < reaking, and 
 "staggering like a drunken man." Dark night was just at hand to 
 wrap them in her sable mantle. Cross-seas were striding over the 
 heaving bosom of the angry deep like hostile armies, and th< mad 
 surges, " lifting up their hands on high." now rush, trampling one upon 
 another, now break, pouring from their top-mast height 1 
 cataract, before which the sturdiest ship could no more stand than 
 the frailest bark. Some now cut their cables and drift. Son;* 
 thrown upon their vessel's side and drift. Some ship a sea and are dis- 
 abled. Some, in the deep, dark night are driven and dashed, one upon 
 another, and founder together. Some are thrown down once, 
 twice, and one three times, and yet come upright again. That was a 
 dreadful night, in which, 
 
 " Tremendous sea * * * thou liftedst up 
 Thy waves ou high, and, with thy winds and storms 
 Strange pastime took." 
 
 Death, ghastly, terrible death, stood frightfully before them ; screeching 
 winds howled dismally around them. It was a time when men's 
 thoughts ran with lightning speed far away to their homes and friends; 
 husbands thinking of their wives, and fathers of their children ; sons of 
 their dependent mothers, and brothers of their sorrowing sisters, whom 
 imagination brings before them clad in mourning weeds, and weeping. 
 In that dread moment, how did the mind, at a glance, survey the v. 
 past lite, and then throwing itself forward upon that future world which 
 seemed so near, rest with tranquil hope, which, like an unmoving anchor, 
 holds them in the storm ; or, shrink back with dreadful fear, as they had 
 trusted in or neglected Him, who is man's only help in timeof need. O, 
 the thoughts, and feelings, and convictions, and prayers, which rushed 
 into this terrible moment, must have made it to the unprepared, appalling 
 beyond description. Fear came upon them like an armed man, and they 
 were "at their wit's end." * 
 
 A2 
 
About twelve o'clock the wind began to " lull." "They cry unto the 
 Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them out of their distress. He 
 maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are 
 they glad because they be quiet." 
 
 But; alas, eleven out of the fifty vessels from this town, probably be- 
 tween the hours of four and ten o'clock on that sad night, were lost. 
 From one out of the eleven, the whole crew was taken off by a vessel 
 bound to New York. From another, after remaining eleven days on tha 
 wreck, five were saved by one of our own fishing vessels. On that 
 memorable night, sixty-Jive of our fellow citizens found a watery grave. 
 Of this number, two-thirds were heads of families, leaving forty-three wid- 
 ows and about one hundred and fifty fatherless children. Parents have 
 lost their sons, some of them one, some two, and in one or two instances 
 three. Sisters have been bereaved, some of an equally large number of 
 brothers. In one case a wife lost her husband, a brother, a son-in-law, 
 and two sons of a brother. And so many are the families which have been 
 bereaved among us, that it is almost easier to number those that are not 
 afflicted thaa those that are. 
 
 Who now can tell the suffering in these families during the period of 
 apprehension and suspense connected with this disaster. That same 
 right was marked as an epoch on the land, as well as on the sea. 
 Wives, and mothers, and sisters of those whose " march was on the 
 mountain wave," signalized it by tears, and sighs, and prayers, and some 
 of them by a kind of presentiment that their friends would come no more. 
 The raging winds drove "'sleep" from their eyes, and seemed like the 
 wailings of grief, the dirge of those they loved. The night taper seemed 
 to burn with a feebler light, casting fainter shadows upon the walls, 
 which fear makes a premonition of forthcoming evil. There is a trem- 
 bling solicitude for friends at sea, in a stormy night, which none can 
 know but those who are familiar with the exposures of seamen, and who 
 have learned it from sxperence. 
 
 As the first unwelco:ne intelligence came to their ears, how was this 
 painful apprehension borne on into tremulous anxiety. Like Hamath 
 and Arpad, they are "confounded," "for they have heard evil tidings: 
 they are faint-hearted ; there is sorrow on the sea ; they cannot be 
 quiet." With what eager solicitude, on the return of a vessel from the 
 scene of disaster, did they seek to know if their friends had been spoken 
 with or seen since the gale. And, as intelligence of the loss of one and 
 another of our little fleet is brought home, there came on in the hour of 
 grief, that painfn'l suspense, — distressing alternation between hope and 
 fear, — in which now hope, now fear, prevails, and in which hope a thou- 
 
nas 
 and 
 
 The 
 
 :; 
 
 7 
 
 i.nnd times buried, is at often exhumed. How eagerly do wives and 
 mothers seek l«»r tidings, and yet alraosl shrink from what they leek. 
 Children, too, — with what impatience do they hasten to the wharves to 
 inquire if anything lias been Beel or heard of their lathers or brothers' 
 Early oue morning alter an arrival, as a lad who had sought in vain foi 
 tidings of his father, ran out with eager hope of hearing something 
 wherewith to relieve his anxious mother, lie learni d that he had no i> 
 ther; that the vessel in which Ik; sailed, had been seen a wreck 
 lie can now no more cheer his sorrowing mother by repeating to he; 
 those sweet words: u My father." That father lies sleeping in the dark 
 bosom of yonder deep sea. With a heart, bursting with grief, he turns 
 his steps towards his desolate home. But what shall he do? How 
 he be the bearer of such sad tidings to his disconsolate mother. Yet 
 know it, he feels she must ; what can he do? Restraining his grief, he 
 wipes away his tears and enters the house. Scarcely has he laid by his 
 little cap and seated himself at his morning's repast, ere the big tears 
 streaming from his eyes, tell the grief that he cannot rpeak, in which 
 that now despairing mother reads, what, of all things woman most dread-; 
 to know — I am a widow ; my children are fatherless. Thus the stroke 
 lias fallen upon many among us. Their husbands, and fathers and sons 
 and brothers are gone, they scarcely know how, or where, or when. 
 They have witnessed upon them no wasting disease; have listened to no 
 last words of love. They have seen no solemn funeral procession ; they 
 e heard no mournful tolling bell, nor looked down upon them when 
 consigned to the silent tomb. And, although told that the watery wind- 
 ing sheet has wrapped them in its capacious folds, yet how "an they be- 
 Here so sad a tale? Thus it is that they sometimes hope against hope, 
 — are so reluctant to bury their dead. 
 
 A season, marked with such sad disasters to our marine population, 
 has probably never but once before occurred. In the spring of 170'.', 
 fourteen vessels, with something over one hundred men, were lost from 
 Marblehead. During the preceding year, 1768, nine others with most 
 of their men met with the same fate. In the two years of 17G8-9, it is 
 stated, * that twenty-three vessels were lost from the town, and 
 all the men on board, one hundred and sixty-two, besides a considera- 
 ble number who were washed overboard from vessels which returned. 
 These left seventy widows and one hundred and fifty-five children. Add 
 to these two years, the disasters of 1846, and we have an aggregate 
 Joss sustained by the town in three years, of thirty-four vessels, two hun- 
 
 *-See Rev. Mr. Whitwell's Sermon, preached December l: 
 
B 
 
 fired and twenty-seven men, leaving one hundred and twelve widow*, 
 and three hundred and five fatherless children. In the last four years 
 inch ding the present, ninety-nine men have been removed from us in 
 the same way, leaving sixty-eight widows and two hundred and twenty- 
 ■one children not over twelve years of age. 
 
 These are the " things" of which we we are prone to say, they " are 
 against us." And, when I consider all this sudden loss of property — 
 when I survey the wide field of social ravage which has been occasioned* 
 and am reminded of the hopes that are crushed, and the hearts that are 
 bleeding; when I enter the habitations of sorrow to " visit the widows and 
 the fatherless in their afflictions," and see helpless infancy and childhood 
 leaning for support on such " bruised reeds," asking, in some instance?, 
 for bread, when there is none to be given save what is received from 
 the open hand of charity — when I contemplate these things, I am for 
 the moment, inclined to join in the exclamation : " All these things are 
 against me." 
 
 But, before resting in such a conclusion, it were well to inquire what 
 useful ends a wise Providence may have designed should be answered 
 •Yv these disasters. There is no point of view in which they will lose 
 the reality of a serious loss, — a severe and grievous affliction. But are 
 there no considerations which may serve to procure a more ready ae- 
 rpriescence in them, by presenting to our minds the good of which an 
 overruling hand may make them the means ? We say it is a great pe - 
 cuniary loss, and so it is. But may not the providential design, and the 
 tendency of this be to a greater gain? If a man loses a thousand dol- 
 lars, and by that means, is led so to employ his capital and labor as to 
 gain two thousand, it proves not so much a loss in the end, as the 
 means of gain, by leading to an improved method of prosecuting his busi- 
 ness. So, if there are other practicable modes of investing capital and 
 -employing labor, safer and more lucrative than the fisheries, may it not 
 be one of the lessons which God designs the inhabitants of this town 
 should learn by this providence, to seek out these practicable modes? 
 And in doing so, may it not be that they would find these losses, even 
 in respect to their pecuniary interests, for, instead of against them. 
 
 There are two questions, which, in ascertaining the design of this af- 
 flictive providence, should be particularly considered. One is this: — Is 
 the fishing business attended by any more than the ordinary exposure 
 of human life ? The other is: — Does it yield to those engaged in it the 
 »rdi nary fruits of industry? Upon the answers to these questions, must 
 depend very much the interpretation which we ought to place upon our 
 late losses at sea. If the vocation is ordinarily safe and ordinarily pro- 
 
r/t/i-tire, tin' j cannot, be legitimately construed as provident ially again? 
 tin 1 business itself. It", however,a different answer is forced upon as by 
 the facts in the case, another construction will not only be lawful, but 
 wise and beneficial ; in which event, these things may be againsl 
 occupation, but nol against us. To the first, let us direct a moment' 
 tention. , 
 
 [s the fishing business attended by anymore than the ordinar 
 posure oi human life? To answer this, we need only tie- average mor- 
 tality of the men employed in this, and thai of those in the bmui-- ; 
 of life, engaged in the various avocations on the land. 
 
 The mortality in the town of Marblehead during the last eleven 
 years, including deaths at sea, has been a little more than two p< 
 cent. ; excluding deaths at sea, it is a little less than two per cent. 
 Leaving out of account those too young to go to sea, and those too old, 
 the mortality of the remainder who are employed on the land is about 
 one per cent. Compare with this, now, the mortality of that class a 
 us, who in this business, go ctown to the sea in ships. For the last 2 1 
 years the average number of men thus employed has been about .V":: 
 and for the last 40 years it has been about GOO. During the I I 
 years the mortality of this class has been two per cent, of the 600, and 
 for the last eleven years it has been considerably wore than the same 
 proportion of the 500. But it is only about eight months in the year, 
 at most, that they are employed upon the sea in the fishing businesi . 
 that their mortality, being two percent for two-thirds of the year, would 
 be three per cent, for the whole : while that of other- men, in the same 
 period of life, is only one \^t cent. The answer to the first question, 
 then, is, that the exposure of human life in the pro n of lice fishing 
 
 business is three times as great as it is in other branches of industry pur- 
 sued on the land. With this result, every one who entertains the ques- 
 tion of going to sea. in this calling, should be familiar. Let all under- 
 stand that the probabilities of death are as three for those who go, to *iu 
 for those who stay. Let them remember that death, too, when it come \ 
 to men at sea, is sudden, with no protracted, warning twilight hour for 
 reflection, and that it comes to them too under circumstances peculiarly 
 afflictive to surviving relatives and friends. " Deep ealleth iinlo deep' 
 and "they go down quick," and all we can know of their thoughts and 
 emotions is, that we can know nothing. 
 
 Now, asan equivalent for this extraordinary i f life, on the 
 
 principle of making an equation with human life on the one side and 
 mere property on the other, the products of labor and capital ought 
 k> be three times greater in the fisheries than they are when employed 
 
10 
 
 on the land. But is it so ? Are the labors of our fishermen three times 
 more productive than those of landsmen ? Does capital yield three 
 times as much when employed in this way on the sea, as when employ- 
 ed at home ? A single glance at the business aspects of the town will 
 answer. The scores of shoresmen who have sunk their capital wholly, 
 or in part, answer, No. The testimony of our hardy, brave, industrious 
 fishermen, answers, No. And the many widows of this class who have 
 inherited nothing from their husbands but their honest poverty, and 
 their children to support in that poverty, with emphasis, will answer, 
 No — this has not been a more than ordinarily productive business. 
 For five years, said one of these industrious men to me, the avaiTs of my 
 labor have been no more than sufficient to support myself alone, leaving 
 nothing for my family. Said another, my expenditures for the same 
 length of time, equalled all the fruits of my toil, except half the bounty for 
 one year. Says another still, who has been to some extent an owner of 
 vessels, I have been in this business 40 years, and for 30 years I was 
 engaged on the sea. I never lost a man, I never shipped a sea to suffer 
 any injury, I have had better success than was common, and until this 
 season have met with no misfortune of any kind. I have now lost a 
 single schooner, and am heft just where I was when I commenced. 
 Surely, of such men, who have been fishing all their lives, it may be 
 said as of the disciples, they have "caught nothing." 
 
 By statistics of the products of the various branches of industry in the 
 Commonwealth for the year ending April, 18-15, it appears that the pro- 
 ducts of the fisheries in this town were less in value, in proportion to 
 the men and capital employed, by one third, and in some cases one half, 
 than those received from various other branches of industry. Should it be 
 said, that men upon the land are employed the whole of the year, while 
 those engaged in the fisheries, are occupied only about half or two-thirds 
 of it, it will be admitted. But it should be remembered that in other 
 avocations the same rate of capital produces, in many cases one-third or 
 one-half greater real valuation, with some times only half the amount of 
 labor. Besides, it may be one objection to this branch of industry that 
 it employs the capital invested in it only a portion of the year, and 
 another, that it so employs it as to unfit some of the men for, or in part 
 shut them out from productive labor the other portion. 
 
 But have not other towns been more successful in the business than 
 this ? I answer— some may have been, and some of them, as it appears 
 from the -statistics above referred to, not so much so. The value 
 of products, in proportion to the number of men, and the capital 
 employed in the cod-fisheries, is less than that of almost any other of tlv\ 
 
11 
 
 ordinary branches of industry. And it is less than the average product! 
 of all the manufacturing branches together in the Common wealth, by at 
 least one-third, or one-half. And this too while the exposure of life in 
 this one, entitles those engaged in it to a product of labor three times as 
 great as that received in others. 
 
 It is a law of providence well accredited in the business world, that 
 ordinary industry should be rewarded with the ordinary fruits of in- 
 dustry. It is also another law of providence well received in that Bame 
 business world, that the fruits of industry should be in proportion to the 
 hazard of life and property necessarily connected with it. Now, "it 
 would seem that in the continuance of the fishing business among us, 
 both these laws of providence have been disregarded. Neither labor 
 nor capital are as productive here as they ought to be. Not that this 
 should be esteemed other than as a strictly honest employment. But, in 
 view of facts, the question may, and I believe ought to be asked, wheth- 
 er it is an expedient one. Providence would that men should labor, but 
 he would not that they should labor in vain. Is it wise to continue in 
 such a perilous and unproductive pursuit? Is it adapting means to 
 ends with that practical wisdom of which increasing facilities now afford 
 abundant opportunity ? I will even ask if it is right to risk so much to 
 gain so little — needlessly, to so great an extent, to throw away human 
 labor and human life ? May not such violations of the laws of provi- 
 dence, be expected, in some way to meet with the rebukes of provi- 
 dence? Why else is it that this respectable class of our fellow citizens, 
 when they are removed from among us, are obliged, in so large a pro- 
 portion of instances, to leave in charge with the charitable, their desti- 
 tute widows and children? They have ordinarily performed labor 
 enough to have left them above such dependence. They have risked 
 ther lives, and boldly braved the dangers of the ocean in a manner mer- 
 iting easy, if not affluent circumstances. And such, I doubt not, would 
 have been the condition of not a few of these bereaved families, at 
 the present time, had the industry of the lost husbands and fathers 
 been directed into channels, from which they could have received the 
 ordinary fruits of industry. When, under these circumstances, such 
 extraordinary providential disasters seem to be against us, is it not more 
 prudent to consider them as premonitory lessons mercifully designed, 
 for our "correction" in business, as well as '-instruction in righteousness ?" 
 Sure I am, that, if the inhabitants of this town, engaged in this compara- 
 tively profitless pursuit, shall be led by these so uncommon reverses, to 
 turn their labor and capital into other safer and more productive chan_ 
 nels, they will see that these things are not all against them. A few 
 
12 
 
 luen of a former generation may have grown rich in gathering of "the 
 abundance of the sea." But it is quite certain that the men of this gen- 
 eration, with an exception or two, are not doing so. Between ill 
 success, and wrecks, and losses, poverty is coming upon them like an 
 armed man. The voice of God to them, upon the sea, is for their pre- 
 sent, as well as future benefit. lie hath his " way in the whirlwind," 
 and the "stormy wind" is "fulfilling his word." 
 
 I have spoken these things, not for merely financial purposes, as a 
 pander to sordid avarice, to secularize, this afflictive dispensation, by 
 making it subservient to an imsanctified desire of gain. But I say them 
 as being closely connected with the providence of God in this sad disas 
 ter, and as tending to make more plain the instructions which it is his 
 design to communicate. I speak as I believe in perfect harmony with the 
 voice of this providence, and, by giving it more distinct articulation, to 
 ur^e its salutary lessons. I speak in behalf of the social, intellectual 
 and moral, as well as financial interests of this whole class of our fellow 
 citizens. 
 
 But there are other bereavements connected with this visitation of 
 God, more afflictive than the loss of property. Sixty-five men, who 
 were among the most industrious and worthy of our townsmen, have 
 been suddenly removed from this to the eternal world. With some of 
 them my comparatively brief acquaintance had been sufficient to awaken 
 in me a more than ordinary interest. Some were exemplary members 
 of the Christian church. The Christian hope was their sure and stead- 
 fast "anchor-" The word of the Lord was. their " compass," and their 
 unslumbering pilot, He 
 
 " That rebuked and controlled the proud waves at His will, 
 And spoke " peace" to the tempest and bade it be still. 7 ' 
 
 Others belonged to one or more of the various social, literary or moral 
 societies which exist among us. And all of them, as husbands, as fath- 
 ers, as sons or brothers, were bound to life by the strongest ties of nature 
 and of affection. But these bonds could not hold them to life. They 
 have gone from us. In an hour of fearful struggle, opposing vain re- 
 sistance to the winds and waves, they went down quick, and we see them 
 no more. Their graves are in yonder deep ; their memories in the 
 hearts of those they loved. By a suitable monument, sacred to that 
 memory, erected in yonder ancient burial ground, let the knowledge of 
 this calamity, in which they perished, be transmitted to future genera- 
 lions. 
 
13 
 
 To i I to-day, witnesses that 
 
 He hath broughl ' »hall have no occa- 
 
 sion to I •• lli'; 
 
 have 
 
 .11. May tiic , 
 Qg — 
 
 . ihor, all sto 
 
 ail, i. 'h the haven of ; 
 iorc fear 
 - \Y renie, then i 
 
 Bui >ws, and these children left fatherless, and 
 
 ! How can these things but be against 
 them ? I answer, in the >f their Author and in the ends which 
 
 lited to s So far as they may have been in rebuke, 
 
 the design of them is to lead to i . Wherein they may have 
 
 been in judgm. they may learn righteousness. And as a 
 
 chastisement, they are for the correction and improvement of his people. 
 It is - lows in their afflictions to make the Lord their hus- 
 
 band, and to teach the children to seek a father in Him, and the depen- 
 dent mothers to loan on one who is a more sure support than many son?. 
 And is that against them which- is suited in its tendency and design to do 
 this for them ? Is not reliance on God better than to trust in man, and his 
 favor more try children ? God has many ways whereby to bring 
 
 good to men, of which affliction is by no means the least common or effec- 
 tual. And lie, to whom belongeth "the silver and the gold," has re- 
 sources out of which to provide for his poor, of which they know little. 
 When he has said, "commit thy fatherless children to me, and I will keep 
 them alive, and let thy widows trust in me," think you " the labor of 
 the olive shall" wholly "fail" to them, " and the field yield no meat?'' 
 How, already, has He in wliose hands are the hearts of all men, turned 
 some of those hearts in a sympathizing charity towards these afflicted 
 poor ! How have their wants been promptly met by this ready sympa- 
 thy, even before we had need, or time almost to ask in their behalf, for 
 aid ! The tribute of our heartfelt acknowledgment for that generous vol- 
 untarily proffered assistance, is due to those friends of humanity in the 
 neighboring cities and towns from whom it has been received. We 
 thank them for their timely liberal aid ; and not less for their warm 
 active sympathy — in the name of humanity, and of these sufferers, we 
 thank them. We tell them that " he that giveth to the poor lendeth to 
 the Lord, and although many of them are personally unknown to us, 
 yet that He who seeth in secret shall reward them openly. 
 
14 
 
 And we hope that those who may receive these benefactions, will not 
 find them the best things conferred in their afflictions. There is, than 
 these, a more " enduring substance." The "true riches," an incorrupt- 
 ible inheritance; of which He who is the heir of all things will make 
 them the possessors who seek him in trouble. Whosoever enquireth in 
 his sorrow, " where is God my Maker, who giveth songs in the night ?" 
 shall be enabled to sit tranquil in the deepest gloom, and say, " Though 
 he slay me, yet will I trust in him." Yes, bereaved friends, in the 
 thickest darkness, there is onewho can cause to spring up the sweetest and 
 most cheering light. And out of the greatest afflictive evil, there is one 
 who can bring the greatest spiritual good. He takes us from our earth- 
 ly dependencies, that he may place us upon a heavenly reliance, — turns 
 us from our broken cisterns, that he may lead us to the living fountain. 
 He rends the harp strings of the human spirit only that he may tune 
 them into a sweeter harmony with the symphonies of heaven. These 
 things against us? No, they are not surely in their design against us. 
 Construed against our follies and mistakes they ought to be. Against our 
 sins they are, but against us, if we improve them, they are not and can- 
 not be. Our merciful Father rebukes not to injure, but for our correc- 
 tion. His chastisements are not in anger to his people, but in love. 
 He is ready to give you much more and better things than these which 
 he has taken from you, and thereby lead you, reversing the desponding 
 language of the patriarch, exultingly to say, " none of these things are 
 against me," " all things shall work together for good to them that love 
 God." " The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the 
 name of the Lord." 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 The monument is composed of a block of clear white marble, ten 
 feet high, resting upon a firm granite base, and surmounted by a pyra- 
 mid, five feet high, making the height of the whole from the base, fif- 
 teen feet. It is placed upon an eminence in the Old Burying Ground, 
 and is visible from ten to fifteen miles at sea. It does honor to the 
 society which has erected it, to the good taste of the Committee, and the 
 skill of the architects, and it will remain one of the most interesting 
 objects of attention to the coming generations of our population that the 
 town contains. 
 
 The religious solemnities on the occasion of the erection of the monu- 
 ment were the following : 
 
 1. Singing by the Marblehead Singing Society. 
 
 2. Invocation, by Rev. Mr. Dana. 
 
 3. Reading of the Scripture, by Rev. Mr. Breare. 
 
 4. Singing. 
 
 5. Address, by Rev. Mr. Lawrence. 
 
 6. Prayer, by Rev. Mr. Smith. 
 
 7. Singing. 
 
 8. Benediction, by Rev. Mr. Ballard. 
 
16 
 
 » 
 
 INSCRIPTIONS ON THE MONUMENT 
 
 [On the North Side.] 
 
 MONUMENT 
 
 Erected A. D., 1848. 
 By the 
 
 MARBLEHEAD CHARITABLE 
 
 SEAMEN'S SOCIETY. 
 
 Instituted February 12, 1831. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 ITS DECEASED MEMBERS. 
 
 On Shore and at Sea. 
 
 | On the South Side.] 
 
 Lost at Sea. 
 
 1831 — Nicholas G. Adams, John D. Dennis, John Goodwin, 3d., 
 
 Phillip B. Millet, Winslow Ramsdell, Bartholomew 
 
 Francis, Samuel Snow. 
 
 1832 — Benjamin Ramsdell, John F. Green, John Millet. 
 
 1833 — William Francis. 
 
 1834 — Benjamin A. Richardson, Thomas H. Adams, Robert 
 
 Devereux, Jr. 
 
 1836 — Robert E. Vickery. 1838 — Benjamin Nowland. 
 
 1839 — Robert Cloutman. 
 
 1840 — Nathaniel H. Atkins, Benjamin F. Doliber, Benjamin 
 
 Russell. 
 
 1842 — Aaron B. Knapp, William Lasket, Thomas Powers. 
 
 1943 — John Goodwin, Jr. 1844 — Philip Bridgeo. 
 
 1845 — William Crowninshield, John Brown, Thomas Trefry. 
 
 1847 — Thomas Felton. 1848 — Nicholas Tucker, Jr. 
 
17 
 
 [East Side.] 
 
 Lost on the Grand uLland in the Memorable Gale <>/ 
 
 • ■/• L9, L846: 
 
 Joseph C. Bowi William Girdi 
 
 1 Bridg Willi \ \i L. Hoo 
 
 Charles Ch u>\ M<> by. 
 
 John' Con; riS. OSM w ( ' STAC 
 
 Samuel Dodd, 3d. Francis C. Stephi 
 
 Benjamin Dodd. ry. 
 
 Thomas Doliber. Edward F. Tin 
 
 Whole number lost from Marblehead in the £ale, 65 men and boys ; 43 
 
 heads of families, leaving 43 widows. 155 fatherless children. 
 
 "ffite sea shall give up the dead that are in it." 
 
 [West Side.] 
 
 On Shore. 
 
 1836 — Tpiomas Cloutman, Richard Girdler. 
 
 1 837 — William Adams, Richard B. Carswell, William Reed. 
 
 1838— William P. Brown. 1839— Samuel Collyer. 
 
 1840— Thomas Follett. 
 
 1844 — John Nutting, James Oliver, Benjamin Pedrick, Joseph 
 
 Phillips. 
 
 1845 — George Chinn, William Goodwin, Jonas D. Homan. 
 
 1846 — William B. Adams, Robert B. Chinn. 
 
 1847 — Isaac Collyer, Christopher Grant. 
 
 " All that are in their graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth." 
 
18 
 
 The following Vessels were lost with their Crews, September 19, 1846, 
 leavi "j 43 widows, and 155 children: 
 
 John Cross, 
 Edward Homan, 
 
 Ebenezer Lecraw, 
 George LeMaster, 
 
 Samuel Dodd, 
 David Peirce, 
 
 Charles Chadwick, 
 John Gilbert, 
 
 William Hooper, 
 John D. Bowden, 
 
 Francis Stevens, 
 Osmyn Stacey, 
 
 John Trefry, 
 Benjamin Martin, 
 
 Sans Standley, 2d., 
 Benjamin Dodd, 
 
 In the schooner Pacific. 
 
 Eleazer Leach, 
 Isaac Wadden, 
 Robert Devereux, 
 
 In the schooner Liberty. 
 
 John Lancey, 
 Thomas Doliber, 
 Richard Goss, 
 
 In the schooner Sabine. 
 
 Joseph Homan, 
 Edward H. Dixey, 
 Henry Pitman. 
 
 In the schooner Senator. 
 
 Joseph Graves, 
 Edward Dixey, Jr., 
 Elisha D. Pedrick, 
 
 In the schooner Zela. 
 
 John White, 2d., 
 Samuel Blackler, Jr., 
 Amos Humphrey, 
 
 In the schooner Minerva. 
 
 William Wooldridge, 
 Philip Trasher, 
 Archibald Sinclair, 
 
 In the schooner Salus. 
 
 Joseph Atkins, 
 Thomas Pedrick, 
 William Girdler, 
 
 In the schooner Warrior. 
 Moses Peachy, 
 Edward Humphrey, 
 William Blackler. 
 
 John Hunt, 
 John Bates. 
 
 Samuel Graves, 
 Robert Blare. 
 
 Benj. Garney, 
 Nicholas Florence. 
 
 Mark H. Giles, 
 John Glover. 
 
 Thomas Caswell, Jr. 
 John Wallace. 
 
 Michael Phillips, 
 Browno Aleanda. 
 
 Fred'c Donalson, Jr. 
 John Green. 
 
 George Bridgeo, 
 Samuel Goodwin. 
 
19 
 
 /// the sch 
 
 William Bridget), Edward F. Trefry, lliam [Jar 
 
 John Roads, James J 
 
 / ■ 'inton. 
 
 John White, 3d., Nehemiah Stone, 3d. 
 
 In the schooner Good Exchange — 1845. 
 
 John Green, John A. Anderton, Richard Caswell, 
 
 Thomas Trefry, William Bartlett, William B. Brown. 
 
 In the schooner James Mugford — 1847. 
 
 Robert B. Mason, Benjamin Hawkes, William Green, Jr. 
 
 Thomas Felton, Simon Gordon, Abraham Clough. 
 
 Thomas Roundey, Jr. 
 
 From 1768 to 1770, the town lost 23 vessels and all their crews 
 amounting to 1G2 men, who left 70 widows and 155 children.