Many distinguished men belonged to the Oriental Society when Whitney began to take part in its proceedings. Robinson was there, in the renown of his Biblical researches, and Gibbs, the accurate Hebraist; Woolsey, with his early distinction as a teacher of Greek literature, and his later distinction as a student of all the phases of human progress; Beck, the accomplished Latinist, and Felton, the true Hellenist; Abbot, with his remarkable memory and more remarkable acumen as a textual critic; and Hadley, sensible, versatile, erudite, and acute. Of those still living, I will name but two,—Day, who suggested to our friend (as Professor Seymour has informed us) the study of Comparative Philology; and Salisbury, who guided Whitney in his incipient study of Sanskrit and then founded the professorship which enabled him to pursue through life his Oriental researches. Among them all, Whitney would have said, indeed, he did say, that Hadley was "America's best and soundest philologist;" and Hadley, we may be sure, would have handed the palm to Whitney.
A certain consciousness of dignity—one might call it self-appreciation—he maintained, but without display, without haughtiness, without detraction, or, to employ a positive phrase, with a just and discriminating recognition of the worth of others. He had no patience with pretence. Real contributions to knowledge, however small, and endeavors for the promotion of science, however inadequate, he welcomed and encouraged. The youngest scholar, if he was earnest, true, intelligent, and careful, might be sure of help and
