±2 Brewster, //< Memona/rt: Henry Augustus Purdie. [jan. 



cast "shadows" more or less detrimental to the material prosperity 

 of those who possess them, our world would he a hetter place to 

 li\'e in were it more generally overshadowed by them. 



As a matter of course, they won for Mr. Purdie many apprecia- 

 tive and lo\ ing friends. At a surprise party given for him in 

 Cambridge on his seventieth and last birthday, these came from 

 far and near in such numbers as almost to overflow the house. 

 No one of them ever appealed to him in vain for assistance or sym- 

 pathy which it was in his power to give, while the unsolicited 

 kindly attentions which he showed them were unfailing and very 

 numerous. He was, indeed, the most unconsciously unselfish man 

 I have ever known, wholly oblivious to self interest, yet ever mind- 

 ful of the interests of others and seeming to regard whatever he 

 did for them quite as a matter of course and of little or no impor- 

 tance, however great the service rendered. At railway stations 

 he was habitually on hand to greet incoming or outgoing ornitho- 

 logical friends with grateful words of welcome or farewell and help- 

 ful acts of kindness. Whenever the American Ornithologists' 

 Union met in Cambridge, he devoted himself to looking after the 

 comfort and welfare of its visiting members, especially the humbler 

 ones among them. His though tfulness of others, always unosten- 

 tatious, was sometimes shown in rarely tactful and delicate ways. 

 The late Howard Saunders had interesting experience of this when 

 visiting Boston in 1S84. At the close of a day spent in going 

 about the city with Mr. Purdie, he parted with him at the State 

 House, declining for reasons which I have forgotten to be escorted 

 by him to Bowdoin Square, whither he walked to take a horse-car 

 out to Cambridge. On nearing his destination and happening 

 to glance back, he saw, at some distance to the rear, stealing along 

 the shadowy side of the street, a dim figure which he recognized 

 as that of Mr. Purdie, who was following him thus surreptitiously 

 to make sure that he did not lose his way among the old ' cowpaths' 

 of Boston, or get on the wrong car. When, years afterwards, INIr. 

 Saunders related this incident to me in London, he wound up the 

 story by saying very feelingly: "Of all the friends I made in 

 America, I value most Henry Purdie." 



It must not be inferred from anything which I have said or left 

 unsaid, that Henry Purdie was devoid of worthy pride or of true 



