ed me. A young
clergyman writes: "I feel I owe a very great debt to him, both as a
lecturer and as a friend. His clearness of mind and power of thought
were such as I have never seen in any other man. But far more precious
than these intellectual gifts was the inspiration of his personal
character. His ideals were so high, and he lived so close to them.
Few lives have better expressed the truth of the words of which he was
so fond: 'He that {42} loseth his life shall find it.'" A schoolmaster
writes: "The last talk I had with him was a month before my ordination,
and I remember the emphasis that he laid on the praying side of a
clergyman's life." A doctor writes: "Looking back upon my time at
Christ's, I think that of all the influences which helped me, the most
potent was my friendship with Forbes Robinson. . . . I came to know
him somewhat intimately by spending an Easter vacation with him, and
several of our conversations then have left a lasting impression on my
mind. . . . I suppose, as one gets older and sees so much more of
death, that a deepening faith takes away that sense of personal loss
and leaves behind a feeling of gladness that yet another friend has
passed to the Communion of Saints."

'Of his life we may use the motto of his College:

'AD HONOREM CHRISTI JESU ET FIDEI EJUS INCREMENTUM.'

Mr. Kittermaster writes:

'Forbes Robinson did not regard any one of us as a "mere
undergraduate," one of a mass; that was the first thing which those of
us who knew him as undergraduates learnt. He was genuinely interested
from the first in his undergraduate acquaintances; interested in them
as men, not as promising pupils, not as likely scholars, not as
athletes, not as material for "improving" influence, but as
men--individuals, each possessing a separate and distinct human {43}
personality, and therefore of the truest and deepest interest to him.

'Our public schools taught us (and for most of us Cambridge continued
the teaching) that to be of any real importance and consequence among
his fellows a man must be "good at games," or perhaps--but this more
rarely--"good at work." Such is the simple creed of the undergraduate.
If he satisfies neither of the above requirements, then he recognises,
with greater or less sadness, that he is an ordinary man, the "average
undergraduate." He is one of the crowd if he has no athletic powers to
commend him to the notice of his fellows _in statu pupillari_; he is