"It has sometimes occurred to me that he could not seem constantly to others as he did to me, like one who had dropped from a higher sphere, to remain a little while in order to draw the hearts that should love him to a purer, higher, and better life. But conversation with others has shown me that it has long been a general impression that he moved in a realm above the common level of even the best men." There was still another aspect in which Professor Putnam presented himself, which should not be passed over without at least an allusion. Having completed his professional studies, his own tastes and higher aims, no less than the wishes of his friends, induced him occasionally to exercise the functions of the Christian ministry. Hence he sought and received ordination according to the usages of the Congregational churches, and in that relation stood in his lot. With what earnestness and pureness of motive, with what loftiness of purpose and fidelity in his high calling, and acceptance to those who heard him, I need not try to express. But I may say that it was not for want of solicitation that he did not exchange his professorship for places of considerable public importance in the other calling. It was his duty, a belief of his fitness for his post, that kept him from some inviting fields of labor elsewhere. Having referred in fitting terms to his call to the Andover Theological Seminary, to the closing scenes in his life, and to his death at sea, Professor Brown says in conclusion: "Few lives were more perfect than his, whose youth gave so fair a promise, whose riper years so fully redeemed the pledge. His presence shall still go with us all, to excite us to new fidelity, to enkindle within us nobler affections, to inspire us with holier purposes." His classmate Rev. Dr. Furber says: "The ripe and rare scholarship of my beloved classmate and friend, John Newton Putnam, was the fruit of diligence and the love of study in one whose acquisitions were easily and rapidly made. Mr. Putnam never seemed to be a hard worker, but knowledge was continually flowing to him as by a process of absorption from his early childhood until he became the accomplished and brilliant scholar that he was as professor of Greek. His books were his constant companions, their society was his pleasure and pastime, he preferred it, even in his boyhood, to the sports and recreations for which most boys neglect their studies. When in college he sat up at night after other students were in bed to pursue the study of German and other modern languages not then required by the college course. This he did from the pure love of these studies, without the aid of a teacher, and without the social stimulus of any companionship in such pursuits. And he probably for the sake of study neglected needful bodily exercise every year of his life.