Like Theodore Roosevelt, Butler was a man of many talents and each talent was in the nature of a surprise to his friends. Under his extremely quiet and gentle personality lay force of idealism and of resolution, of courage and persistence which led him to great heights as investigator, teacher, and explorer. It is in respect to this last talent only that this “Impression” is written, because I spoke in the memorial service at Graduate College with others who dwelt on his other talents. As an archæological explorer Butler showed his resourcefulness and powers of command in the most remarkable way. Bedouins, Arabs, native Turks yielded to his quiet and persuasive power, though he rarely raised his voice above a low monotone. Again we turn to the language of Dante and of Homer to express appreciation of this great man.

In the “Divine Comedy,” Dante speaks of Ulysses, of exploration of the western seas and lands, of braving dangers, of overcoming obstacles, of offering home, family, friends, life itself, in the quest of the great unknown, its wonders, its beauties, its riches.

For two thousand years our ancestors, thus inspired, were facing the setting sun, until the whole earth had been encircled by explorers. Then, only a brief hundred years ago, the indomitable human spirit turned eastward, toward the rising sun, the Orient, toward the buried treasures and past beauties of the very peoples and civilizations which had been pressing westward from the dawn of history.

Led by Layard, Schliemann, Evans, and a host of others, and chiefly inspired by de Vogué, Howard Crosby Butler became a crusader in this eastward tide of exploration. As a follower in his youthful Princeton days, and in the broad and deep discipline of his graduate years, he prepared himself. A short seven years after graduation, namely, in the year 1899, we find him in the deserts of north central Syria in full command—no longer a follower, but a leader, imaginative, determined, successful, soon becoming distinguished. No one of us who knew the gentle and almost too gentlemanly student of art and the classics under Marquand and Frothingham would have divined his latent powers to command Orientals, whether Arabs, Bedouins, or Turks. Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re, he was first trusted, then almost idolized, by his workmen.

It was the sterling integrity, as well as the consummate skill, of Butler’s work in Syria (1899–1909) which led to the highest distinction ever offered to an American and Christian explorer by a Mohammedan government, namely, the unsolicited invitation to enter and take command of the excavation of Sardis. The Turks knew they could trust Butler; they knew that he was absolutely honorable. The difficulties of Sardis exploration had seemed insurmountable to others; the great period of civilization and culture of Asia Minor, just older than the Syrian and extending back to the Lydian and beyond, was buried fathoms deep. These deeply buried ruins were to be entered under his brilliant leadership between 1910 and 1922. His was the secret of self-forgetfulness in a great cause. He never spoke to us of himself, always of the workmen, of the colleagues, of the students, of the most beloved Alma Mater. He was driven on, not by ambition, but by love—love of his fellow men, love of his profession, love of beauty and truth.

Butler’s genial and idealistic view of life is reflected in the characters and personalities which he brought to life, and now that he has taken his place among the noble shades of the long period of 600 B. C. to 600 A. D., the artisans, the architects, the poets, the merchants, the rulers, the governors, even the shade of the supreme ruler, Crœsus, will be grateful to him. We hear them murmuring: “We have been charged with a mere love of gain and of the gold of Pactolus. You have shown the world that we loved beauty, that we kept our covenants, that we honored our deities.” Still more will the shades of ancient Syria and the shades of honorable men and women of the early Christian Church, from its very beginnings beneath the shadows of the ruined pillars of Sardis to the glorious temples of Syria, honor and welcome him.

The span of Butler’s life as an explorer was only twenty-two years; his name and his influence will endure as many centuries. So in our bereavement we are consoled by his immortality.