Note. The foregoing is the inscription on the family tomb of the rev. Samuel Dexter, who was the grandfather of the present hon. Samuel Dexter of Massachusetts. For notices of the ministers of Dedham the reader is referred to Dexter's cent. ser. and to Haven's half century sermon.

DEDHAM, MASS.

466. From the ladies of the rev, mr. Codman's society in Dorchester to the rev. mr. BATES, as a testimony of their grati. tude and esteem, November, 1811.

Note. This is a copy of the inscription on each of three valuable pieces of plate, presented to the rev. Joshua Bates, in gratitude for the active, friendly, and successful part he acted in behalf of the rev. John Codman, when opposed by some of his parishioners, who were hostile to Calvinistick sentiments. The donation was accompanied with these lines;

The christian friend, whose heart is right,
Defends the injur'd with delight;

Unaw'd by hosts, in league combin❜d,
The cause, that's just, employs his mind.

ATTLEBOROUGH, MASS.

467. BEZALEEL MANN mort. die Octo. tert, 1796, an. ætat. 74. Early imbued with the principles of moral rectitude, he sustained, through the diversified concerns

of a long and active life, the character of an honest man. As a physician, he commanded, during the period of near fifty years, that unlimited confidence and respect, which talents only can inspire. The features of his mind where sketched by the glowing pencil of nature, filled up with quali ties, that adorn humanity, and shaded with few infirmities, the frequent attendants on mental excellence.

Bebee Mann, his wife, mort. die Octo. tert. 1793, ætat. 61. She was a person of bright genius, of few words, and much reserved in mind. From early youth, she marked all her paths with virtue, and timely took the advice Christ gave his disciples, and made to herself a friend of the mammon of unrighteousness, and, when she failed, could with christian confidence say, that her witness was in heaven and her reward o! high. This stone is erected by the grateful hand of filial piety to protect the awful dust of the most revered parents.

ATTLEBOROUGH, MASS.

468. In memory of doctor HERBERT MANN, who, with 119 sailors, with capt

James Magee master, went on board the brig, General Arnold, in Boston harbour, 25 December, 1778, hoisted sail, made for sea, and were, immediately, overtaken by the most tremendous snows torm with cold, that was ever known in the memory of man, and, unhappily, parted their cable in Plymouth harbour, in a place called the Cow Yard. and he with about 100 others was frozen to death, 66 of whom were buried in one grave. He was in the 21 year of his age. And now, Lord God Almighty, just and true are all thy ways, but who can stand before thy cold?

Note. The calamity, which this inscription records, was one of the most distressing ever witnessed on the coasts of Massachusetts. One of the survivers, Bartholomew Downes of Barnstable, published a narrative of his sufferings, on this and former occasions, which is very little known, and from which the facts in the following statement are principally drawn.

The morning, on which captain Magee sailed, was remarbably pleasant; but, in a few hours, after getting into the bay a most tremendous gale commenced, attended with cold and a snow storm, for violence, seldom equalled in the latitude of Massachusetts. The next day, with no small difficulty, they passed the Gurnet for Plymouth harbour. The

wind and storm had abated, but the cold was intense beyond description. The brig was brought to anchor a little below Beach Point.

On saturday, 26 December, about six in the morning, from the great agitation of the sea, the vessel struck the bottom, as if she would have forced in her keel. As there was not sufficient depth of water for the management of the brig, and as there was every appearance of a renewal of the storm, the captain ordered the cables cut. A most dreadful storm ensued. The main mast was cut away and the vessel drifted upon a hard flat a little west of Beach Point. The people laboured hard in throwing overboard their wood and getting their guns from the deck into the hold. Such, however, was their situation, that the brig struck the bottom continually, with violence, and presently let in the water so that two pumps were of no avail. The snow storm increased to an astonishing degree and there was no diminution of the cold. All hands wrought, with the greatest diligence, during the day, eating nothing, as all desire of food was gone in the fearful prospect of speady death.

Still these distressed mariners had some glimmers of hope, till just before night, when they found every thing afloat in the hold of the vessel. They were then almost in a state of despair, being persuaded that they must perish, unless some special interposition of Providence should prevent. Some went into the cabin, but the water was so deep as to oblige them immediately to return. It was flood tide,

and, in a little time, the water on the main deck was even with the flooring of the quarter deck. The foremast was still standing, which occassioned a perpetual rolling of the wreck. This was cut away and the vessel, sunk nearly altogether under water, was comparatively, but little moved.

The floods often broke over them and, at the height of the tide, the water was of considerable depth on the quarter-deck. The storm continued with unabating fury. Nothing could be heard but screeches, groans, lamentations, and earnest cries to God for mercy and relief.

In their distress, bordering upon distraction, all being much crowded on the quarter deck, they trampled one another under feet. The intenseness of the cold, under their peculiar circumstances, was greater than they could bear, and during the night, more than half of the crew were frozen to death. The wet, fatigue, want of food, and violence of the weather, were unitedly more, than their natures could support.

On the 27 of December, the storm having subsided, the sun appeared, but the severity of the cold was extreme. They now could see Plymouth and a number of people attempting to go to their relief; but the ice increased so rapidly, in the harbour, that the kind adventurers, having nearly lost their own lives, in their benevolent exertions, were obliged to return without effecting their object. This, to the surviving but perishing mariners, was more dreadful, than can be described. A ray of hope had beamed