APPENDIX. 5;75 



In personal appearance Mr. Smith is described by those who knew 

 him "as a large, portly, fine-looking gentleman of the old school, pos- 

 sessing the most attractive social qualities, ajid all the elements of popu- 

 larity were combined in him." 



His widow, Letitia Nixon Smith, was a refined and intelligent lady, 

 and continued to reside in Huntingdon for some years after the death 

 of her husband, devoting her time to the interests of education, Sunday 

 schools and the church. She finally removed to Athens, Tenn., and 

 spent the remainder of her days with her nephew, Thomas Nixon Van- 

 dyke, Esq. There she died and was buried, some thirty years or more 

 after the death of her husband. 



Among the fugitive pieces written by my father, Richard Penn Smith, 

 I find the story of "My Uncle Nicholas," and no doubt he had his 

 uncle in view when it was written. As an evidence of his style of 

 writing, I here add it: 



"MY UNCLE NICHOLAS. 



" liY RICHARD PENN SMITH. 



"'Call no man happy 'till you know the nature of his death; he is at l>est but for- 

 tunate.' — -Solon io Ciasus. 



"Time eats the children he begets, and the memories of few men 

 outlive their monuments ; nay, myriads pass into oblivion even before 

 the elements have sullied their epitaph. My uncle Nicholas, notwith- 

 standing his deserts, has not escaped this order of things. I knew him 

 in the April of my years — the flower-time of my life; and as my mind 

 reverts to those sunny days, the first object it rests upon is the beloved 

 image of my uncle Nicholas. 



"He was a placid being, overflowing with the best of humanities. 

 His heart and his doors were open to all his fellow-beings, and there 

 was not a creature endued with animal life towards which he did not 

 studiously avoid giving pain. His dogs loved him, and he could not 

 walk abroad into his fields but his cattle followed him, and fed out of 

 his hand. 



" 'He was a scholar, a ripe and a good one,' at least I viewed him 

 as such in my boyhood. His mind was stored with good learning, but 

 his favorite companions were those hearty old poets who have retained 

 their freshness for centuries, and who possess a reproductive faculty that 

 will make them blossom through succeeding ages. With what delight 

 would he pore over the harmonious numbers of Spencer, and Drayton, 

 and Drummond, and the vigorous dramatists of those times ! and there 

 was scarcely a gem of the minor poets that he had not culled to grace 



