2 THE AMERICAN MONTHLY [January, 



sion,when a beautifully bound book dropped into the mud, virtually ruining 

 it, the Professor uttered some mild by-word. When a man came at him with 

 a storm of abuse or of misapprehensions, he would sit perfectly quiet until 

 the storm had spent itself and the bearer had said all he could think of, then 

 in the calmest manner he replied so kindly as always to send his antagonist 

 away happy. His kindness extended to wa'ong-doers and unfaithful employees. 

 He w^as never known to discharge from the service for incompetency orneglect 

 any person whom he had known personally. When it became evident that one 

 was not doing well, the Professor would try the person in some other capac- 

 ity. There are those who have thus made very extended rounds in search 

 for their proper spheres. 



Certain of his subordinates were inclined to quarrel and to appeal to him, 

 but he could never be drawn into their controversies. He never adminis- 

 tered reproof, as such, though he sometimes talked of giving an offender ' a wig- 

 ging.' His gentle suggestions were, however, a sufficient reproof to those 

 who could profit by them. He sometimes wrote letters, which he consid- 

 ered a reproof, but even these usually got torn up before they reached the 

 mails. He always tried to provide for the relatives of those who died or be- 

 came disabled in the service. He could see hope for the shiftless and drunken 

 when all the rest of us gave them up and demanded their dismissal. Once 

 it was said concerning an offender : — ' Well, Prof. Baird has not backbone 

 enough to dismiss him.' To which the latter replied when it came to his 

 ears : — ' No, Pi^of. Baird has not backbone enough to be harsh with one 

 who is unfortunate.' vStrangely, too, he did not seem in the least offended 

 that such a reflection had been passed upon him bv one of his most trusted 

 associates. His kindness was sometimes put to severe strain by thick-skinned 

 people, who had found out to what lengths they could go. At times it was 

 pitiful to see his generosity and forbearance so imposed upon by schemers 

 seeking only their own aggrandizement. The presentation of certain peo- 

 ple's cards was often a warning that an office-seeker or a complainer was to 

 be seen. Shovdd he drop some great interest for fifteen minutes for an inter- 

 view^ useless to him.^ 'Oh, dear!' he would sometimes say, and drop his 

 work ; but by the time he reached his caller he was serene and even cordial. 

 No one ever knew, him well but to love him. 



Next to kindness may be placed his modesty. As it permeated everything, 

 there could be no suspicion of affectation. Even his dress, always neat, was 

 so unostentatious that he was often likened in appearance to a well-to-do 

 farmer. His horse and carriage were the plainest that could be seen at the 

 Smithsonian or the White House. He was granted the privileges of the floor 

 in the Senate and the House, but he never exercised them. He did not like 

 to dine out with foreign ministers and Government officials, though his rare 

 powers of conversation and his official position would have made him doubly 

 welcome there. He was exceedingly averse to appearing in public meetings. 

 I never saw him on a public platform but once, and he stipulated then that he 

 must not be called upon nor mentioned. W^iien he attended the National Acad- 

 emy or the American Association he would usually be seen in the lobby rather 

 than in the sessions. He refused the presidency of the latter society at the 

 Portland meeting from his aversion to standing before assemblies. When 

 asked if he would attend various celebrations to which he was invited, he 

 generally replied : ' What do you suppose they would care for my pres- 

 ence .?' Of all the tickets which he received to stage seats on great occasions, 

 and free seats for great events. He used scarcely one per cent. He attended 

 neither church nor theatre for a dozen years. Barnum's circus was the one 

 only large gathering which he loved to frequent. ' I don't care what the rest 

 of you do ; I am going to the circus this afternoon,' he exultingly exclaimed 



