Brother Emory died the Fourth of July, 1863, at my home in Indiana. He was on his way to Kansas to look for a new location. He left a widow and seven children. He was the most gifted In judgment and business ability of any of the family, could read the character of a man almost at sight, but was un- usually kind and generous, especially to those in dis- tress.

The day of his death was a dark day at my home. William Thomas, who married my niece, Miriam A. Henly, died in the early morning, and he in the even- ing, and I was worn out and broken down with watch- ing and loss of sleep; and as I look back to that time I feel that a special Providence alone carried me through.