of life; and on which your dear departed mother bade an adieu to you, to me, and to the world, and ascended on angels' wings, to the arms of her divine Redeemer. May God, who is rich in mercy, prepare us all to meet our relatives in peace, beyond this vale of tears.

When at West Point, I was visited by young Harvie J. Ellis and James Carter; the latter of whom I saw on guard in the encampment, with a musket on his shoulder. They were all well and in good spirits and delighted to see me. Should you see their friends, they no doubt will be gratified to hear of them.

Remember me in much love to all who inquire after me, and when you write, let me know how matters stand in Church and at home. With love to Sally, Eliza and household,

Believe me your affectionate father,

RICHARD CHANNING MOORE.

P. S. David has been with me two hours, and has returned home this moment. Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton visited me this morning-they are well, I have promised to visit them at the Fort. Let Mr. Nelson know I have seen them. All here send their love.

New York, August 21st, 1833.

My Dear Daughter,-My former letters have been directed to your sister Crissy, under the impression, that you as well as she, would peruse them, and with the confidence that it was a matter of no particular importance to whom addressed; but lest you should indulge the least suspicion that you were overlooked, I now direct this to you; and must request my dear Crissy to consider it a piece of joint property. My last letter embraced the history of my visit to West Point, and involved in it an account of the tender

recollections to which that visit gave rise. I there passed, I think, eighteen months, at a period of life when no heavy cares press on the mind, and we feel as cheerful as the face of nature appears, and as happy as the feathered songsters of the woods. Since that era I have experienced much trouble and anxiety: my parents have passed into eternity, and other severe trials have befallen me: comparing the ease I then enjoyed, and of which every object informed me, with the checkered scenes of subsequent life, it raised emotions in my bosom which I want language to express ; and in the edition I gave Crissy of the adventure, and in the perusal of which I shed many tears, my feelings were such as I cannot well describe. Should you live to be as old as your father, who this day commences his seventysecond year, you will be better qualified to judge of such things, than you can now possibly be; and you will then recollect that what you then feel, has been experienced by those who lived before you. To-day I dine with Dr. Milnor, to-morrow with Mr. Ridgway, our former Consul in the Island of St. Croix, and on Friday with Dr. Lyell. I expect to preach on Sunday morning at St. Stephen's; and on Monday to lay the corner-stone of a new church in the city, and to deliver an address on the occasion. Your brothers David and Channing, the latter of whom has gone to visit his friend Hallam at New-London, are to be with me; and we expect to go to Staten Island on Tuesday. On Friday it is my present purpose to start for Philadelphia, where I shall remain a few days with my dear Gertrude, and then bend my course to Richmond. Should anything occur to arrest me in my progress to the South, I shall apprize you of it; so that you may not be disappointed on the subject of my return. Mr. Cook has requested me to sit for my portrait: which I have done three

times; and expect to give him another sitting to-morrow, when I presume he will finish his work. It is thought a likeness, but I shall be better qualified to decide on the subject myself after to-morrow. I sincerely sympathize with my dear friend Martha Chamberlayne; but, as I am sensible her little girl is much better provided for, than she could have been in this world, I hope she will bend with resignation to the dispensation of Providence, and remember that she will again see her, with her harp tuned to praise, and with the ability to join in anthems of joy with the triumphant host of heaven. I intend to address her on the subject, if not prevented by company, as soon as I finish this letter. Last Sunday I passed in Amboy, where I preached twice, and in the evening went to the Miss Parkers, where, with all the members of that family, at least twenty in number, I spent a devotional evening, and closed with a prayer for the blessing of heaven upon them all. It was a devotional, melting evening. I sincerely hope that you are both in good health, and with my prayers for your health and happiness, and for the happiness of all my friends, especially my child Betsey Heath and husband and family,

Believe me, my dear daughter, your friend and father, RICHARD CHANNING MOORE.

In contrast with the peaceful and joyous recollections recorded in the foregoing letters, we will here relate an incident previously adverted to, well adapted to illustrate the barbarities inseparable from war even when under the conduct of civilized and Christian nations.

The father of the peaceful family at West Point had left home to visit a friend at a distance; and during his absence, a British frigate ascended the Hudson river with a

view of capturing Fort Montgomery. General Clinton, of the British army, with the forces under his command, had previously visited the residence of the Moores, committing such acts as are common with a foraging party when inva. ding the domains of an enemy. The soldiers, however, were content with committing depredations out of doors. They robbed the garden, took possession of the poultry, and killed a cow which was feeding in the orchard; but offered no personal violence to the members of the family, nor even attempted to invade the sanctuary of the domicil. But when the seamen landed from the frigate, they immediately entered the house, and, with ruthless violence, tore up the carpets, stripped the beds, stole the tea-spoons from the table where the family were seated at their evening meal, and without restraint carried on the work of indiscriminate pillage. One of the band of depredators, more savage than the rest, with fiendish cruelty and dastardly cowardice, presented a fixed bayonet at Mrs. Moore's breast, threatening the life of an unprotected mother surrounded by an interesting group of weeping and helpless children! The consternation of the family may easily be imagined. They fled to Mr. Charles Moore's for protection, where they remained till they could return with safety to their own abode. Even if we admit it to be necessary in the prosecution of war sometimes to invade the domicil and plunder the property of private and peaceful individuals, yet surely, the bright escutcheon of the soldier should never be tarnished with acts of cruelty and oppression to helpless women and children. In this case, the outrage was perpetrated not upon an enemy, but a friend: (for the Moores were favourable to the royal cause,) it was the brutal act of an infuriated, unrestrained body of men, who deemed it their business and privilege to commit all sorts of violence

upon those whom they supposed hostile to the crown in whose service they were enlisted. General Clinton made an ample apology for the assault, severely reproved it, and caused the valuable plunder to be promptly restored to the injured family.

At the time of the above outrage upon his paternal home, the subject of this memoir was in the city of New York; and as yet, perhaps, undetermined as to his future avocation in life. Under the temporary influence of a wild and romantic desire to visit other countries and see the world, (so common in youths at that age,) he made trial of a sea-faring life; which, however, he very soon relinquished, and devoted himself to the study of medicine.

His medical education was prosecuted under the direction of Dr. Richard Bayley, one of the most distinguished physicians of his day. The advantages he enjoyed under the tuition of this gentleman were probably equal to any which could be commanded at that early period,—so long before medical schools or colleges were instituted, with their associated professorships, for the education of young aspirants in the Esculapian art. Dr. Bayley had the reputation of being the most eminent surgeon in New York, and young Moore is said to have been quite a proficient in this branch of his profession. After the completion of his studies, he commenced his career as a practitioner of medicine in the city. But finding, probably, as most young beginners do, that it was difficult to maintain a rivalry with older physicians of established reputation, and more difficult to obtain a support amidst the wide competition for practice in a large city, he soon removed to the eastern part of Long Island, to seek his fortune there. But, after a brief residence at his new location, without a result answerable to his expectations, he returned to the city, and