velled
lightly, talking happily on all subjects the whole day. It seemed to
make little difference to him whether he took food or no, and he was as
willing to stop at every place of refreshment we suggested as to march
the whole day without a meal.
{21}
CHAPTER III
WORK AT CAMBRIDGE
In September 1891 Forbes was ordained as curate to his brother
Armitage, who was at that time vicar of All Saints', Cambridge.
Several of the letters which are given later refer to his thoughts and
feelings at the time of his ordination. His connection with All
Saints' did not last more than a year, as his brother resigned in the
following spring. Forbes had already been licensed as chaplain to
Emmanuel College. He received priest's orders in 1892. In 1895 he was
appointed theological lecturer at Christ's College, and in the
following year, May 30, 1896, was elected a fellow. During the same
year he was appointed an examining chaplain to the Bishop of Southwell.
One who knew him well, soon after the time of his ordination, writes:
'I cannot remember how we first became acquainted, beyond the fact that
I used to meet him in the rooms of some prominent members of the
College Football XV. All I know is that several of our year got to
know him quite well, and the friendship grew with time. The fact that
he had distinguished himself in the Moral Science Tripos at {22} first
rather awed me, a freshman. But I soon got over that feeling, for he
was the last person in the world to trouble any one with a sense of
intellectual inferiority.
'I am sure the private business hours of the Debating Society were some
of his happiest moments. His magnificent assumption of wrath on the
most absurd grounds; his vast intensity over trivialities; his love for
the heat and play of debate, would have made a stranger believe he
lived for nothing else.
'Physical strength and virtue seemed to have a strange attraction for
him. His assortment of athlete friends was peculiarly wide, and his
frank admiration of their qualities gave them a pleasant feeling that
in some way he looked up to them--a feeling which I am sure
strengthened the hold he had over them.
'He was a tireless walker, and could go far on very little. A party of
us used to take long walks, often on a Sunday, to various places in the
country. There was generally a volume of Burke or Emerson in his
pocket, whose sonorous periods filled the interval when we lunched
fruga
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