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 of the rising Labour movement repelled him and drove him into the Liberal camp, he was never quite at ease there and was, I think, glad to return to his books and his controversial theories. When I knew him best, in the nineties, the virtues and at least one curious defect were exceedingly impressive upon one in general sympathy with his rationalism in all fields of its application, The defect was an excessive combativeness which was apt to pursue every detected falsehood or fallacy to its remotest origins and a related failure to assign the proper scale of importance to the several errors of his “enemies.” I remember on one occasion venturing to protest against the ferocity of some indictment, and he answered: “You forget that I am only four generations from a painted Pict.” It would be wrong, however, to neglect in any estimate of Robertson, the intense “humanism” which underlay his “spirit of revolt” against the popular creeds of his day and of the past. In personal intercourse he showed a most kindly disposition in all the ordinary affairs of life. It was only when our conversation brought up some controversial topic of the day that the fighting temper was aroused. How far my association with this remarkable man influenced my mind and lines of thought I cannot judge. It certainly strengthened my anti-religious bent and clarified the doctrine of “determinism” which at that time threatened to dominate my outlook in all fields of activity. But though we first met in the adoption of