REMINISCENCES. xliii 



One asks oneself whether that particular mould of goodness and 

 intellectual power is yet broken. I hope not. . . . 



[Cardale Babington toward the end of his life endorsed the Vicar's 

 appeal for a Memorial Institute in St. Barnabas', Cambridge, a parish 

 of near 7000 souls, the second parish in Ely diocese in point of 

 population. " From the intimate connexion," he said, " which I 

 have had with the parish of St. Barnabas from its very foundation, 

 I am able most cordially to support this appeal. Such a building 

 is indeed very greatly wanted, and I hope and fully believe that 

 the sum required will be obtained. I also heartily concur with the 

 Vicar in his touching desire thus to commemorate my dear and 

 lamented friends, Bishop Parker and Jani AUi, in the parish where 

 they did much good work when undergraduates at Cambridge." 

 After Babington's death his name was added to those of his friends. 

 Some .£1400 are required in all. The site for the Institute was given 

 by the Master and Fellows of Gonville and Caius College, and the 

 ioundation-stone was laid by Dr. Charles Taylor, Master of St. John's 

 College, on St. John's Day, 6 May 1897. The Master of Trinity, 

 •as reported by the Cambridge Chronicle, 7 May, p. 7, spoke as 

 iollows— J.E.B.M.J: 



So far they might have been assisting at almost any one of those 

 remarkable developments of Christian zeal for the purpose of Christian 

 teaching under the very shadow of their parish church. All such works 

 were the sign of true Christian growth, and every man in every parish ought 

 to be thankful to be able to take part in it. But most of them, he was sure, 

 must be aware that that particular function of theirs that day had something 

 special and peculiar, and, he would add, pathetic, connected with it, which 

 made it different in some respects from other functions which otherwise were 

 similar. They were not only that day in the faith of Christ erecting a solid 

 work which they believed to be for the good of His children, but they were 

 •also erecting a memorial to a good man, a devout Christian, a deeply loved 

 .and revered friend. There were many friends present, he doubted not, who 

 knew even better than himself the great services which Professor Babington 

 rendered both to the College and the Universitj'^ in which for so many years 

 he held so commanding a position, but still more to the cause of Christ and 

 His Church. Happy was that University which could count amongst its 

 public servants one distinguished man after another who was not only 

 recognised as an expert and an authority in his own special branch of 

 learning, but also as a devout, an energetic, and deeply earnest Christian. 

 It was a remarkable fact that the last two Professors of Botany held their 

 ■distinguished office for no less a period than seventy years together — 

 from 1825 to 1895, and both were members of the illustrious college, the 

 Master of which had that day laid that foundation-stone. Each of them was 

 a great light to many in his day. They knew that the memory of Professor 

 Babington was one of those which neither the University, nor the Town of 

 'Cambridge, nor the Church of Christ in Cambridge, would readily allow to 

 ■die. They knew how rapidly the names even of the most beloved slipped 

 into forgetfulness, but so long as this building, which was about to be reared, 

 remained to do its beneficent work for Christ in that parish, and so long as 

 that stone was seen by passers-by to record the day of its foundation, so long, 

 he ventured to say, the name of their dear friend and benefactor, Professor 

 Babington, would be a name in Cambridge for reverence and for love. 



