' are to do next is uncertain: the instructions

from England do not, I believe, go beyond

'the possession of Portugal; but other in'structions must soon arrive.

'Continue to write; my love to Jane and 'James, and family, &c. &c.

'Always, my dear Mother, affectionately,

'J. MOORE.'

Sir John Moore to his Mother:

'Queluz Camp, near Lisbon, Oct. 4th, 1808.

My dear Mother,―This will go by the frigate which carries home Sir Hew Dal

rymple, who has been recalled to explain, ' and who has been directed to leave the 'command with Sir Harry Burrard. This 'we consider as a temporary arrangement,

as no orders or instructions have come to

Sir Harry. What great character will be 'sent from England, or what final arrange· ment will be made for the direction of this

army, God knows. We are hourly in ex'pectation of receiving this from home: it

would be lucky, if time, seasons, and events

'would keep pace, and wait the decisions ' of our ministers.

'I have had the pleasure to receive several 'letters from you, the last was the 18th

' the 11th of July.

'from this soon; but whether to the Asturias, 'Catalonia, or the centre of Spain, we know 'not. People at home have been more vio'lent about the Convention than is just; it is • bad enough. I bless my stars I

' arrived late, and had no share in the glory,

' and as little in the Convention.

'I am glad to find by your letters that you ' are so well, and in such good spirits. You 'should continue to have at Cobham occa⚫sional parties with you; they are necessary, ' and give the true relish for intervals of quiet; few people can bear perfect retire'ment,-in general, it is neither the best nor 'the most amiable characters who can. My 'love to Jane.

Always, my dear Mother, affectionately,

C JOHN MOORE.'

A paper given by Mrs. Moore to her

daughter.

(No date, supposed to be written in July, 1809.) My dear Jane,-I am endeavouring as 'far as I am able, to submit to the will of

God, and to trust in his mercy, that it is for my dear John's eternal happiness that he has been snatched from this world: but 'my feelings are too strong for my reason, ' and I cannot bring my mind to be reconciled to his loss. And the new cause of anxiety for Graham will, I fear, be too powerful for me to support; and I confess to you, that my mind is what I think in greatest

6

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danger. I appear to have a constitution.

that can stand anything, but my spirits are

gone, and I am a burden to myself; and I would receive it as a token of God's mercy 'to be taken from this world. I know

'you would be shocked; but consider, my

dear, what comfort you can expect of me

' after seventy-five, and with such a load of

sorrow. If that event should happen before 'Graham's return, I request of you not to

leave Brook Farm. Have always a friend 'with you, but endeavour to amuse yourself in improving, and taking an interest in everything that can promise to be advan'tageous to your Brother. This is the duty pointed out to you, and the way to make yourself useful, and I hope your piety will support you in fulfilling it. Painful as life is to me, I would be contented to live some years longer for your sake, if I could be any ⚫ comfort to you; but my distresses have been 'too great for me to be able to support and preserve any degree of cheerfulness, and my 'dread at present is, living to be a burden upon you.

'Soon after writing the inclosed, I had the

'inexpressible comfort to see my dear Graham return in health, and in the plea'sure of seeing him, my affliction was a little softened, and I was willing to encourage it; ' and as far as in me lay, I have endeavoured to support myself by looking to the good ' children that remain, and to the many bless

'ings in my lot, far above what I deserve. 'I feel that I ought to be grateful for my 'mercies, and to submit with patience and ' resignation to the Divine will. But it is my 'misfortune not to be able to act up to what 'I know is my duty. Every day adds to the 'sensibility of my loss, and I have no longer 'the power to make any exertion.

A deep and profound melancholy has 'taken possession of my mind, and I find

coming upon me what I have dreaded since 'the beginning, that my life should be length'ened for a distress, no comfort for my family.

'If, contrary to my fears, it should please 'God in his mercy to relieve me, it must be

' a satisfaction to you, my dear Jane, to think

that my prayers have been heard, and that

God Almighty has been graciously pleased

to close a life which could never more 'know happiness in this world.

'I hope your dutiful and affectionate 'attention to me will be a source of conso'lation for you; and I hope your mind will