If not to let the left hand know what the right hand doeth represents the highest type of manhood, we have surely a good illustration of it in the life of Daniel B. Smith, who died in Germantown on the 29th of March, 1882, in his ninety-first year. Only a few weeks before the writer of this attended the graduation exercises of the Philadelphia College of Pharmacy, an institution so famous over the whole United States that nearly two hundred young men and one young woman, gathered together from Canada to Texas, were sent back to their homes amidst the plaudits of four thousand people who met in the Philadelphia Academy of Music to greet them. Possibly not one of all this vast throng - not one among this large body of successful students, knew that the chief founder of the institution was Daniel B. Smith, much less that he was still living, though then on the bed of death. Possibly no man ever lived who cared less for applause; no one who more truly loved to do good for the mere pleasure of doing it. He was a diligent student through a wide range of science, but botany and horticulture seemed to have the most enduring charms for him.

In his seventy-fifth year he took with the writer of this a botanical trip of ten miles to " see once more the Allosurus atropurpurea growing on its native rocks," and at its conclusion remarked that it was probably "the last long trip for me." He was one of the old class of amateur horticulturists, now almost extinct, whose garden traversed by gravel walks, and lined by neatly kept box edgings, was a perfect botanic garden of hardy flowers, which afforded a source of pleasure and floral study through the whole year.

As soon as he found he had to give up his long walks among the wild flowers, he spent the later years pleasantly in going over, correctly naming, and rearranging his large herbarium, which he had the pleasure of presenting to the College which he was instrumental in founding.

In the broad Quaker spirit which animated him, he had very much at heart the giving of an equal chance to both sexes and all colors in the pursuit of knowledge, and possibly few things rendered him the more ready to depart in peace than the announcement, in his dying days, that a young lady, Susan Hayhurst, had for the first time taken the degree of Doctor in Pharmacy in the College which he founded.

No stone will mark the spot where his Quaker brethren have laid him. Full well they know that even granite will melt away. That his friends may do for other neighbors what he did for them was the height of his aspirations for future fame; and it must have been a great satisfaction to him to feel that though the time must come when his name will be forgotten, what he always tried to do in his quiet way would have a beneficial influence on human progress.