Soon after the close of the Civil War I went to Washington, D.C., for the purpose of arguing a case then pending in the supreme court of the United States. The court made an order advancing some important cases in which I think the government was interested, and this necessarily delayed the hearing of the cause in which I was engaged and left on my hands a week or more of leisure. I determined to improve the opportunity by going to Harper's Ferry and to Shepherdstown, West Virginia, for the purpose of finding and visiting some of my mother's relatives. I had an uncle, Charles Cameron, who had lived at Harper's Ferry when we left Maryland in 1841. I took the train to Harper's Ferry, and upon my arrival there ascertained from the hotel clerk that my uncle Charles had died a short time before the Civil War and that his family had removed to Washington. I asked the clerk if he could point out to me some old resident of the place from whom I could obtain information. Whilst talking with him a man entered the office to whom he recommended me as a person that could tell me all about Harper's Ferry before the war. From this gentleman I learned that my uncle, John Cameron, was living with a married daughter several miles over on the Maryland side, just under Maryland Heights. I walked out to the place and had a most delightful visit with him and his daughter, and son-in-law and family. My uncle was a tall, splendidly framed man, a fine specimen of the old Virginia gentleman, over six feet in height, with his faculties unimpared, a fine physique, and was then ninety-three years of age. He went with me the next day over to Shepherdstown, West Virginia, where we found still living and in fine health my uncle, Daniel Cameron, and wife, their daughter, their granddaughter, and their great-granddaughter, all living under the same roof. When Sunday came I went with my cousin to church and she took me to the Methodist Church South. At dinner that day I asked my uncle John if he had been to church. He said, "Certainly, sir." I asked him what church he attended. He answered, "The Methodist church." I turned to my cousin Susan and asked her if we had been to the Methodist church. She said, "Yes, _the_ Methodist Church South." I said to my uncle, "Then you were at the Methodist Church North?" "I attended, sir, the Methodist church of the United States of America." My cousin stepped upon my toes about this time under the table, from which I took the hint that the question of church north and _the_ Methodist church was rather a delicate subject to discuss in the family. I was pleased to find that my relatives had all been true to the cause of the United States and were earnest Union people, except the sons-in-law, who, being young men, were compelled to go into the rebel army.