1. Jonathan Edwards, born 25 Dec., 1824; dedicated in baptism 30 Dec., 1824, and died 31st of same month. 2. Susan Evangelia, born 26 Feb., 1826; married Henry E. Wells, of Greenport. 3. Andrew Philo, born 21 Sept., 1827; resides at Mattituck, L. I. 4. Isabella Graham, born 19 Sept., 1831; married Henry Egbert Horton.

1. Philander, born 9 Aug., 1803; died young. 2. Helen, born 18 June, 1805; married Cartwright. 3. Benjamin, born 2 March, 1807; died young. 4. Orange Hull, born 9 June, 1808; married Elmira Houston. 5. Benjamin Hull, born 28 July, 1810; married Phebe West.

1. Lydia Rogers, married Franklin H. Overton. 2. Lydia, married J. Halsey Tuthill. 3. James. 4. George. 5. Fanny, married Oscar L. Case. 6. Benjamin Franklin, married Ann Eliza Horton.

1. Salter Storrs, born 10 Nov., 1825; went to California about 1849; died 24 June, 1855. 2. Emma Harriet, born 5 Dec., 1827; married Dr. Frank Tuthill. She was assistant editor of the New York Times for some years—went to California, became wealthy, and she is now (1874) in Europe, educating her daughter Anna. 3. Sarah Elizabeth, born 8 March, 1830; married Blakey; resides in California. 4. Jerusha Wickham, born 3 July, 1834. She is a teacher in Brooklyn, N. Y. 5. Josephine L., born 16 Dec., 1838; died 9 Oct., 1838. 6. Silas Austin, born 19 April, 1839; died in 1857. 7. Henry Wickham, born 29 July, 1841.

1. Nancy Landon, born 17 March, 1828; married 8 Jan., 1850, by Rev. J. Huntting, to David H. Horton. 2. Martha Virginia, born 4 March, 1829; married 5 July, 1855, by Rev. E. Whittaker, to Rev. Carson W. Adams, of Wilmington, Del. 3. Adaline Bethia, born in 1831; died in infancy. 4. Angeline Margaret, born 17 March, 1833. 5. Mehetabel, born 13 Aug., 1836; married by Rev. E. Whittaker, 12 Nov., 1867, to Geo. W. Dayton, of Southampton, L. I. They reside in Brooklyn, N. Y.

1. Henrietta, born 14 June, 1830. 2. Mary Elizabeth, born 11 Jan., 1832; married Stuart T. Terry. 3. Henry Davids, died young. 4. Nancy Wickham, born 20 Jan., 1839. 5. Henry Davids, born 23 Jan., 1845; married Miriam R. Osborn.

5. William, born 30 July, 1792; died 20 Sept., 1806. 6. Susan, born 1 July, 1793; unmarried. 7. Elizabeth, born 29 May, 1795; married Howell; died 12 May, 1863. 8. Mehetabel, born 29 July, 1798; married Joseph Doty; moved to Bradford Co., Pa.; died 6 Sept., 1863. 9. Benjamin, born 5 March, 1809; married 27 August, 1832, Mehitabel Reeves.

1. John Franks, born 15 Dec., 1813; married Phebe Maria Reeves. 2. James Edwin, born 15 Jan., 1816; married Jerusha Worth.

1. Joseph Hazzard, born 25 Jan., 1796; married Mehitabel Horton. 2. William, married 1. Clara Manny; 2. Leura Horton, daughter of Joseph Horton. 3. David Laurens, married Charlotte Jennings, daughter of Lazarus Jennings. 4. Christiana, married Ezra Boisseau. 5. Mary, married Samuel Hutchinson. 6. Julia, married Mathew Osborn. 7. Bethia, married Alvah Stratton Mulford. S. Harriet Newell, married Capt. Benjamin Cole.

1. Mary Jane, born 5 Jan., 1829. 2. John William, born 8 August, 1830. 3. Hannah Matilda, born 26 May, 1832. 4. James Edwin, born 13 Jan., 1835. 5. Amzi Spencer, born in 1838; died 28 August, 1849.

1. Orinda McGee, born 20 Feb., 1816. 2. Jonathan Azariah, born 7 April, 1821. 3. David Philander, born 31 Aug., 1827. 4. Martha Day, born 10 Oct., 1836; married Jonathan Horton Boisseau.

1. Susan, born 13 May, 1823; died 24 June, 1825. 2. William, born 20 Feb., 1825; married 16 Nov., 1844, to Emeline S. Clark. 3. Charles W., born 9 May, 1827; married 13 Jan., 1869, to Elizabeth E. Post, of Wawaganda, N. Y. 4. Howell Reeve, born 24 Sept., 1829; married Julia Knapp. 5. Henry Albert, born 29 Aug., 1832; married Fanny Owens. 6. Mary Elizabeth, born 27 Oct., 1835; married Floyd Halstead; 2. Isaac Andrews.

1. Samantha Catherine. 2. Sarah Elizabeth. 3. Ruth Ann. 4. Hannah Amanda. 5. Happylonia Amelia. 6. John F.

1. Theodore Worth, born 7 Oct., 1849. 2. Edwin Willis, born 20 Jan., 1854.

1. Franklin Munn, born 15 March, 1848. 2. Philip Hallock, born 14 Feb., 1850. 3. Talmadge Baker, born 25 Jan., 1852. 4. Benjamin Theodore, born 26 May, 1856. 5. Grace, born 8 Nov., 1860. 6. Howard, born 7 Oct., 1864.

Florence Isabell and Elizabeth, who survived their mother but a few days, the former dying the 15th, and the latter the 22d of Feb., 1871. All died of malignant scarlatina, leaving the deeply-afflicted father and one son, viz.:—Frederick Osborn, born 4 July, 1860.

1. Franklin Reynolds, born 17 August, 1856. 2. and 3. Twins, Edwin and Ella, born 27 Oct., 1854.

1. Mary Perkins, born in New York, 7 March, 1856. 2. William Robinson, born in New York, 19 July, 1860. 3. Jessie Pardee, born in New York, 12 August, 1862. 4. Gilbert La Fayette, born in Elizabeth, N. J., 9 July, 1864.

1. and 2., David and Carrie, twins, born 6 July, 1859, in New Jersey; David lived to be thirteen months old; Carrie died twelve hours after her birth. 3. David, born 23 Sept., 1860. 4. Lizzie, born 30 July, 1862, both in New Jersey.

Horton and Frances. Horton is now (1875), engaged as Inspector on the boundary line of Mexico.

1. Philena Theressa, born 28 Sept., 1837. 2. Henry Alonzo, born 2 Sept., 1839. 3. Oscar Newton, born 16 Oct., 1841. 4. John Day, born 25 Sept., 1843. 5. Charles Francis, born 2 Sept., 1845. 6. Horton Erastus, born 25 Nov., 1848. 7. San E., born 29 Sept., 1852. 8. Manley Clayton, born 25 Sept., 1858.

To a person acquainted with this gentleman our introduction would sound unfamiliar. "Here is A. E. Horton, of San Diego," is all that he would allow to be said before he would be acquainted with a room-full of strangers. His motto is "action," and he has practiced it long and faithfully. He would leave ceremony in the lurch to talk business, and never think apology necessary; and we can think of no better rule to follow in writing what we know of him.

His parents commenced their westward march in 1815, from Union, Ct., when Alonzo was two years old. Their home for the next four years was in Stockbridge, Madison Co., N. Y. Then a residence of two years in New Haven, Oswego County, where the first school lessons were taken under the direction of Miss Patty Woodward. When he was eleven years old the family reached the shore of Lake Ontario, in the town of Scriba, and moved into their new log-house.

Then followed a year of muscular as well as mental discipline to the lad Alonzo. His father was suddenly bereft of sight by a severe inflammatory attack upon his eyes. School was two miles away, and to and fro our student made his morning and evening tramps in pursuit of knowledge. But he was the eldest boy of the household, and to him after study came toil. His evenings were spent in basket-making, which assisted largely in providing for the wants of the family. Thus for about a year he bravely essayed to lift the burden from his father's shoulders. From that time until he was half through his twenty-first year, he was first assistant wood-chopper on the home-lot, where they filled Oswego orders for hewed timber.

He commenced business for himself by purchasing the remaining six months of his minority, agreeing to pay $50 to his father for that purpose. In eight months from that time he had been a grocery clerk at $12 a month; a lake sailor before the mast; and the last half of the time owner and captain of the "Wild Goose," a small vessel he had purchased, and put into the wheat trade between Oswego and Canada. His marine speculation proved quite a profitable one for those days; he sold out and closed business, paid all his obligations, and had $300 in his pocket. During the winter of 1834-'35 he learned the trade of a cooper, and his specialty for a time was flour-barrels. Then the city of Oswego elected him constable, by the largest majority given to any man on the Whig ticket. The young officer was too kind-hearted to make his office pay, and he lost all he made in trade by failing to enforce payment from poor debtors according to law. Out of office he invested $7 in a contract for land, and in a month made $336 on the venture. Young Horton had another strong point, which was often brought into play in the inevitable wrestling-matches incident to town-meetings of long ago. His 130 pounds was a most animated and unmanageable load for his largest companions to handle, and at "square hold" he was the acknowledged champion of the township. Yet he was pronounced a consumptive by Dr. Van Schaick, with the advice "Go West—it may do you good; but I think it probable you will not live more than six months." He took the doctor's prescription, and went West.

He landed in Milwaukee, in May, 1836, and soon after was one of a party of six on the trail for the Rock River country. There were no roads, and the best inn to be found was to turn in their blankets under an oak tree. But the mosquitoes promptly presented bills for their lodgings. After thirty nights camping, they reached the cabin of Mr. and Mrs. Janes, the parents of the now lively city of Janesville. Theirs was the only house, and that about 10x16 feet in size, but immense in hospitality. After partaking of the latter, the party (among whom were the names of Churchill, Odell, Ogden and Jewett) continued on until reaching the foot of Koskonong Lake, where each one made a quarter-section claim, built a cabin, and went back to Milwaukee. One of those claims, at least, was left for another pre-emptor, with the cabin thrown in, for Horton was soon too busy to think farther about it. Others waited, with hands in pockets, for the approaching land sales; he took up the shovel and worked on the new streets. Money was worth too much to be wasted by idleness. A working-man always gains more profitable knowledge than a loafer. His capital was labor and observation, and out of these were to be wrought a fortune.

Of the two hotels then in the new city, he had selected the Bellevue for his lodgings. Two bits a night paid for his share of a room, and his own blankets were bed and bedding. His room-mates were sometimes as many as sixteen; and his rule was "early to bed." Two nephews of the Receiver at the Land-Office came in one evening full of an important secret which they must talk over. The young fellow who worked on the road was the only one retired, besides themselves, and his hearty snoring satisfied them that he was beyond hearing. Their authority was official, so no danger of mistakes. The bills of the Michigan State Bank and Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank would be taken at par at the land sales, and consequently would be as good as gold, and worth the premium of at least 10 per cent. They would quietly gather it in for the occasion. The next day our sleeper was not shoveling on the street. He was learning the whereabouts of holders of certain styles of Michigan currency, and was soon doing a brisk exchange business with his New York Safety Fund Savings, amounting to $300. At night he was in his room, happy in the prospective addition to his funds; but there were two other persons there who thought they had little success in securing the coveted currency. It was unaccountable, for were they not the only individuals to whom the secret had been imparted?

The sales of Government land commenced the following day, and Horton was present with his receivable funds. He bought no land, but his money was in immediate and continuous demand. Many times during the sale he retired to replenish his bank stock by exchanging bank notes with numerous parties according to previous arrangement. The enterprise was a financial success. Here his quick perception did him good service, for he was marked as a prize by a thieving gang. One of them formed his acquaintance on the evening of a profitable day, and tried to learn his intended movements. Yes, he would soon go to his lodging-place; but that night he concluded it would be best for him to remain where he was, and he did so. But another young man, about his age, and similarly dressed, was waylaid on the very route Horton was expected to travel, caught, gagged and carried off to a safe place for robbery. In the dark they had captured the wrong man, as his empty pockets and the cut of his coat proved on careful examination.

Thinking the country a safer place, he went out three miles, to where his uncle, Dwight Foster, was superintending one of the first saw-mills built in Wisconsin. While there another attempt was made to entrap him. One, Robinson, came from town to inform him that a man named Johnson would take a named sum for some land which he had talked of buying. He must be sharp if the trade was secured, and should take his money with him for that reason. Horton promptly decided to take more, and quietly deposited a loaded pistol in each pocket of his hunter's coat. His caller carried a suspicious-looking hickory cudgel, altogether too cumbersome for a cane, and explained that he had been tracking a wild animal, which he hoped they could identify by the marks. In a low, marshy place, a little off their road, its tracks were most clearly made. Descending to the spot indicated, he urged Horton to follow him, and determine what sort of creature had crossed there. Instead of complying Horton presented a pistol, told his man if he found no tracks there as described, he would shoot him without further notice. The villain was outwitted, and preferred returning to town a short distance in advance of the ready weapons of his captor. It was ascertained that Johnson knew nothing of the fellow's errand, and that the only foot-prints about the miry trap in which Robinson had hoped to catch his game, were made by himself. He was next heard of, a few years afterwards, in the Iowa penitentiary, committed for horse-stealing.

Returning to the East Mr. Horton passed the time until 1840, in various places and employments, the last being at St. Mary's with the American Fur Co. His first western home was purchased in the town of Oakland, Wis., that year, to which locality his father and family followed not long after. In a few months more he had established himself matrimonially and happily. Three years engaged in miscellaneous trade, land figuring as the principal item, he became a cattle-dealer. He bought his beef in Illinois, did the largest part of the driving, and averaged two trips in five weeks. He furnished his customers so satisfactorily in his own and adjoining counties, that in one year his original capital of $150 was increased to $4,000. In St. Louis he saw profits in land-warrants, and bought sufficient to locate 1,500 acres of land. Out of this investment grew the village of Hortonville, in Outagamie Co., Wis. His first town was buried in the woods, and he went to work with eight men to cut a four-mile road to his proposed mill-site. By the time he had lots to sell, he was sawing lumber with which to improve them. The prices and payment for material was of small account with the proprietor. Houses must be built, whether settlers had money or not. In a year from the completion of the mill, 150 people were living in Hortonville, and at the end of two years sold out the remaining property, being $7,188 better for his enterprise.

In 1851, Mr. Horton went to California for the first time. Mining-stock was his first business experience, and it cost him $1,000. It was his last transaction in that line also. Spent a few months at mining in El Dorado and Placer Counties, and then opened a store at Pilot Hill. There also he devised and constructed a ditch 6½ miles in length, purposing to supply the miners with water as well as other commodities. At the end of a year he had sold out his water-works and other interests for $6,500, of which sum he had used the larger portion in his improvements. Next he was trading in gold-dust on account of Adams' Express Co., realizing usually $30 a day in commissions. A day or two before the failure of his employers, in 1853, a friend suggested to him, that his money remaining in their office at ——, might be safer in his own pocket. It was "a word to the wise," and before noon the next day he had ridden 30 miles, and much to the dissatisfaction of the agent, drawn his money from the safe of the company. His next care was for his friends hard at work in the mining-camps and elsewhere. To all whom he could reach he gave the hint, and thousands of dollars were secured, by his prompt efforts, to those who had earned the money by the hardest of toil. The following day the express offices were closed, and payments suspended. He was in capital standing in the mining districts where he had operated, and resumed the business with himself for banker. He bought at the mines and sold in the towns, often with a profit of $4.50 per ounce. He was a man of dust, and with his native adroitness, managed to carry valuable deposits of the precious article upon his person without a single mishap. Sometimes his outer garments would scarcely secure him other than the slightest attentions. His landlords were afraid their bills would be unpaid, except his fares were collected in advance. He arrived one evening at one of the rough taverns of those times, with treasure enough about him to incite the gamblers about him to worse crimes for its possession. His good clothes were covered with very dirty overalls and woolen shirt. In calculating Yankee phrase, he interrogated the proprietor as to his accommodations for man and beast, and the reasonableness of his charges. Card-playing ceased for a time in the general astonishment, then the party shouted with laughter at the green chap from Connecticut. They bantered him to play off a Yankee trick. He showed them how to eat the mush and milk, which he had stipulated for as his supper, and with a yawn of indifference to the jests made at his expense, he signified his desire to sleep. The door of his room was without lock or bolt, but the landlord laughingly assured his guest, that he would be the last man anybody would think of robbing. He awoke next morning from an undisturbed sleep, and at breakfast-time was up and dressed. He passed over a small package of dust in settlement, which was accepted and pronounced all right. Word was sent to the stable, his horse could now be brought out—his bill was paid.

"Mister, want to buy some more o' that stuff?"

"Yes;" replying with a surprised look.

"How much?"

"Suppose I can buy all you have to sell."

"Will you treat this 'ere crowd ef you can't?"

"Yes, I will, and yeou, too."

Diminutive sacks of dust were handed to the wondering host, and the coin counted out in return. By the time $2500 had exchanged hands, the landlord's $20-pieces were exhausted, and our Yankee had played the "trick" with a $250 pile still in reserve. The laugh came in then louder than the night before; and as the glasses were being filled the buyer of gold-dust remarked, irreligiously, that he would have robbed the fellow himself if he had known how he was playing him.

The business was as suitable as profitable to the man, and so well did he manage it, that his profits for the last quarter of 1854, were $1000 per month. Another success was in a novel undertaking for those golden days. He went prospecting for ice-fields, and finding a favorable situation 25 miles above Georgetown, in El Dorado County, put up 312 tons of the cool mountain product. A few months afterwards the speculation returned him eight thousand dollars.

In March, 1856, among the passengers on board the steamship Cortez, for Panama, was Mr. Horton. Soon after their arrival at the isthmus, the memorable rising of the natives took place. The mob would have had easy work in carrying out the plan of outrage and plunder, but for the prompt and courageous action of our friend and a few of his companions. Among nearly 200 people from the steamer, who were dining at the hotel where the attack was made, there were but three with fire-arms. The announcement that the rioters were coming, caused a stampede from the table to the upper rooms. On bursting into the house, the leading ruffians were halted at the stairway by Capt. Horton and his aids, and as the attempt to ascend was made, a few effective shots drove the assailants into the street. Immediately the reign of terror and bloodshed began.

"Please, sir, save my father!" was an appeal from a little boy, as he pointed to where a swarthy assassin stood taking aim at a defenceless man. The American's revolver was leveled and fired just in time to render the other's shot harmless by his own fall. Others were protected by the same faithful hand and stern purpose as they retreated towards the only place of safety—the American steamer. Arriving at the water, the crowd rushed on to a small steam-tug, and but for the quick thought and bold action of our leader, would have been overtaken by the pursuing mob. He took command, gave his orders to fasten to a lighter near at hand, transferred his passengers to the larger craft, and signalled the engineer to start for the Cortez. Fortunately, he was obeyed without question, and a more successful trip was never made by the Wild Goose and her commander on Lake Ontario! His money loss was some $10,000, but he could count untold gain in the saving of lives, and to this day he refers to his participation in those fearful scenes with satisfaction not to be calculated in coin.

On their arrival in New York, Mr. Horton was named by his fellow-passengers as the person to proceed to Washington, to make a statement of the occurrences at Panama, in response to a call from the authorities to that effect. From that time until his marriage in 1861, he made several journeys between Washington and Wisconsin, as a witness in the riot case and a claimant for damage. His testimony was important in deciding the demand for reparation made by the United States upon the Government of New Grenada. His own claim was most strenuously and successfully opposed by the Spanish commissioner. He had done too much injury to his people to have his losses repaid. All other claims were not so objectionable; and as a compromise in the final settlement, the man who deserved a General's commission for courage and strategic skill, and liberal pay for the personal risks taken in his defense of American citizens, was stricken from the list of creditors.

Starting again for the Pacific coast soon after the civil war was began at Sumpter, he included a trip to British Columbia in his travels. At Lewiston, on the Columbia River, he began to think of the outfit needed for the journey. His effects inventoried one gold pencil, a single-barreled pistol, and $15 cash. To his brother-in-law, Mr. Charles Wright, who was one of his traveling companions, and much better provided with equipments, he intimated that he must do a little trading before he could proceed. In half a day he had exchanged his jewelry and pistol for a pair of horses; sold one of them again at a clean profit of $50; paid $15 for a third; and early in the afternoon returned to camp with two good animals, fine revolver, saddles, blankets, and about $60 in money. Trading was his special success—speculation invariably a failure. For a distance of 1400 miles through the northern wilderness, that Lewiston revolver brought down most of the game upon which the company feasted by the way. In the Salmon River country, trees and the feathery snow furnished most comfortable bedding. They sold their surplus provisions to a British customs officer on the route, at a profit of 66 per cent. At Lytton, they replenished their stock, and loaded five of their horses with saleable goods. They found a market at Williams' Creek for flour at $1.00 per pound, and for bacon at $1.25.

Arriving at the Cariboo mining district, the party bought the "Darkey's Claim." It was a rich prospect, and they worked the lead until snow closed the operations, taking an ounce of gold from a bucket of dirt. At this time the claim would have sold for thousands of dollars. After wintering at Victoria they returned to make their fortunes, securing a force of workmen at $10 a day. After working four feet further their riches "jumped" and vanished beyond recovery. Not a hundred feet off three miners were taking out 75 ounces per day, and others doing equally well. But the "Darkey" had "run out," and the owners accepted $200 for their lost treasure. Mining has had no attraction for him to this day.

When Mr. Horton reached San Francisco again, his financial condition would have caused a "panic" in any other man. In capital he was "broke," but in nothing else. Then as now, there were the strength and elasticity of steel in the man's spirit and nerves. He first tried a stall in the market; but the dollar a day realized caused him to retire from business in a short time. Buying and selling a ranch in Rio Visto concluded his real-estate operations in that part of the State. He was a dealer in second-hand furniture in San Francisco, when he first heard San Diego discussed as one of the great cities of the future. The value of its harbor and climate was the topic of the evening at a private literary gathering where he was a frequent listener. What he had heard so impressed itself in his thoughts that he could not sleep that night, until he had jumped out of bed, and satisfied his inquisitiveness by a careful study of the map of California. The situation seemed revealed as a prize especially for him. He determined to secure it, and—slept.

Here was the opportunity long sought and never despaired of. In three days the stock was disposed of, and the store closed. The proceeds were small—perhaps less than $500. No one among his friends could be induced to join him in his visionary enterprise. Alone, on the 6th of April, 1867, Mr. Horton reached San Diego. It exceeded his expectations, and obstacles in the way of purchase were quickly swept aside by his indomitable energy. The few people there were having such a quiet time, that they had become indifferent to the charm of office. The first work was to get an election called for Trustees, those officers only being empowered to sell lands belonging to the city. Candidates were provided and elected. The desired property was legally advertised and sold, and on the 11th day of May following, a deed of some 750 acres was made. Thirty-six cents an acre, and but one bidder! Mr. Horton was the happy purchaser, and little did he care that his investment was looked upon by most of the 150 people then in San Diego, as a wild expenditure of money.

The work of advertising the new city was immediately commenced. The tin case in which he carried the first map of "Horton's Addition to San Diego," through the streets of San Francisco, is carefully treasured in his office, and could not be bought for its weight in gold. Horton was everywhere, and irresistible in glowing dreams of the future of his city. His labors were untiring from the time he measured off blocks and lots with a tape-line, and laid out the streets for his workmen to clear from cactus and sage-brush, until the winter of 1869-'70, when his sales averaged $15,000 a month. From $3,000 in 1867, his receipts increased to nearly $85,000 in 1869. His money built up the place as fast as received, and it is safe to state, that $300,000 have been used by him for that purpose.

This is but an imperfect sketch of Mr. Horton's business career in San Diego. He has richly earned the sobriquet of "Father of the City," and the respect and best wishes of his fellow-citizens. His faith and works have been the life of the place, when crops failed for want of rain, railroad hopes were delayed, or croakers insisted on publishing its death as a certainty. Long may Horton live, and great the prosperity he may witness in the pet child he has so bravely matured—his own San Diego!

Mr. Horton is a man of liberal views, and has always been an ardent and practical advocate of political and religious freedom. To the poor, both black and white, he has been a faithful friend. To-day, an honest man in homespun receives as cordial a grasp of his hand, as the man in broadcloth and fine linen. That he has the sympathy and respect of the masses of his fellow-citizens, was manifested in a most gratifying manner in the vote given him in his county for State Senator, in the contest of 1871. His opponent was the Democratic chief of the county, that had never before failed to give a large Democratic majority. San Diego honored the Republican Horton with a majority of 50, and he only failed in election by the adjoining county (forming the balance of the district) voting as usual, largely Democratic. Socially he is a warm-hearted, affable gentleman, true to his friends, and watchful of those who play him false. Temperate in his habits, and always active in mind and body, his health is as robust, and his personal appearance as young as most men at 50 years. Last and best tribute to his character, is the kind care for his parents in their helpless age, and that love for his Mother, which to her was the dearest and last earthly tie broken in her departure to the better Home.