Edward Hoare, M.A.: A record of his life based upon a brief autobiography

by Edward Hoare

Extract from the Journal, May 1858.

Thoughts about Personal Holiness.—Nearness to Christ. Likeness to Christ. Singleheartedness to Christ.

The Whole Work of the Holy Spirit.—In Christ. With Christ. For Christ.

Peculiar Importance to Ministers.—Because we are acting under a strong religious stimulus which may be mistaken for true holiness.

Must not expect to draw souls nearer to God than we are ourselves. “Be ye followers of me.”

Because by-ends mar and impede God’s blessing. “My glory will I not give to another.” “Ye ask and ye receive not,” etc. God has too much regard for the minister to trust him with success.

By-ends strike at the root of faith. “How can ye believe?” etc.

Nearness to God carries a man humbly through success, and peacefully through discouragement.

If we live in Christ we shall be carried through the dying hour.

The Visible and Invisible Life.—Men see Christ’s Gospel in us. We are the visible representatives of an Invisible Presence. Thousands read us who never read their Bibles.

Questions.

Is there the same desire for salvation of souls when others preach?

Is there never pleasure in finding others less than ourselves?

Is there real gratification in the progress and success of others?

“Search me, O Lord” (Psalm cxxxix.). “Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts.” Lev. xxii. 2: “Profane not,” etc.

“Pardon iniquity of our holy things.” “Be ye clean, ye that bear the vessels of the Lord.”

Pardoned sinners the only witnesses to converting grace.

CHAPTER IX
WORK IN VARIOUS PLACES

Those who knew the subject of this memoir only in his later years were often struck by his physical strength and vigour. Yet from his earliest years and up to middle life there were signs of constitutional delicacy which caused anxiety. On various occasions he was laid by through attacks of illness, and it is plain from passages in his journal that, although physically an athlete, he quite expected that his life would be a short one. But God had other plans for His young servant: true, he was to be disciplined by frequent illnesses—Pakefield had to be resigned in a year owing to delicacy of the chest; his work at Richmond (where he caught smallpox in his parish-visiting), and Holloway, and Ramsgate, was interrupted by periods of ill-health; but these were perhaps the training by which faith was strengthened and spirituality deepened for the great work of middle life, and a hale and saintly old age.

The close and topical study of the Scriptures to which allusion is made in the Autobiography, and in which, no doubt, the mathematical training of the University was a great assistance, gave him a clear view of the doctrines of the Church of England; combined with this was an intimate acquaintance with the formularies of the Prayer-Book and the writings of the Reformers, also the result of years of careful reading,—consequently Mr. Hoare was in great request all over England to speak at gatherings of the clergy and devotional meetings of various kinds. Soon after his appointment to Tunbridge Wells, we find in his letters, of which a few extracts are given in the following pages, references to these journeys; in fact he literally seemed to go up and down the country speaking and preaching. It was no unusual event for him to address great audiences in remote towns on the same day.

The following letter, written to one of his daughters just after her Confirmation, for which he had prepared her, alludes to this kind of work, but it is inserted here more particularly as a specimen of his tender interest in the spiritual welfare of his children:—

“York, May 28th, 1856.

“I do not yet know whether or not I shall be wanted at Pontefract to-morrow, and if I am not I may reach London as soon as this letter; but you have been so much in my thoughts lately that I cannot forbear sending one line of affectionate remembrance.

“I have felt the last three months to have been a profitable time for us both, and I trust it has brought us into a closer union with each other than we have had before. I consider that as dear girls grow up they become not merely the children, but the companions and fellow-helpers with their parents, and therefore I rejoice at all that brings us together, as I believe the Confirmation has done, and as I believe that our uniting together in the Lord’s Supper will yet further tend to do. I cannot tell you with what a deep feeling of interest I look forward to the joy of receiving you as a Communicant on Sunday next. I trust that it may be a help to you in drawing nearer to God than you have ever yet done, and in feeding on Christ by faith to the very end of your course. I am sure of this, my dear girl, that there is no joy like that of knowing Christ, no place like that to be found in His love, no happiness like that which springs from His grace, and it is no small comfort to me to rest assured that you feel this yourself, that you have not merely felt the importance of it, but have also known something of the joy. It is a great thing to have the knowledge of our real and great necessity, but that cannot give us peace; it is the sweet assurance of His sufficiency that can really give rest to the soul. That sufficiency, dear girl, is for you, freely offered to you in Him, without money and without price, and I trust sweetly enjoyed by you through the teaching of the Holy Spirit. May He lead you forward day by day, and graciously prepare you for His kingdom!

“Since beginning my letter the post is come, and your letter with it. I knew the good news before I came away; but I am not quite sure whether I shall come, for I do not know whether I am wanted here. Tell your mother I am very well, and am taking the greatest care of myself. I got on very comfortably yesterday, and was not overdone. This afternoon I go (D.V.) to Leeds. I am quite concerned about baby. Dear love to your mother.

“Your most affectionate Father,
“E. H.”

His love for the Church Missionary Society made him ready to go anywhere in its service, and in 1862 Mr. Hoare visited Cork for this purpose; some mistakes appear to have been made about dates by local friends, and accordingly there were one or two days in which there was no work for him to do. This, which would have been a natural source of vexation at all times, was at this juncture particularly hard to bear. Mrs. Hoare’s serious condition had just been discovered. It was therefore with considerable unwillingness that he had consented to leave her at all; but when, through the mistakes alluded to in the early part of the following letter, some days had to be spent in doing nothing, it is easy to imagine how his spirit chafed at what appeared to be a needless absence from home. Yet this had its compensation, as it gave him more of the company of his host, a venerable saint of God.

Not only so, but Mr. Hoare used to tell of the remarkable way in which his aged hostess comforted him concerning the great trouble which was just beginning to overshadow his life. Making him sit beside her on the sofa, she persuaded him to open all his anxiety and grief to her; and then, in a motherly way, gave him such loving advice and deep consolation that he was enabled to look forward more calmly to the sorrow, and returned home strengthened in faith to meet the trials which were thickening around him.

“Cork, May 26th, 1862.

“ . . . However, I am repaid by the affection of the dear old Dean [137] and Mrs. Newman, with whom I am staying. I have greatly enjoyed my visit, and she has been most loving and sympathising. Indeed she has done me real good, and given me valuable help by the way. It is a pleasant and profitable thing to be with those whose race is nearly run, and to hear their views of life, when they look back on it from the borders of eternity. She seems to take a different view of it to what I do, who am in the midst of all the cares of my pilgrimage.

“I thought of you and home all day yesterday with much affection, though without much time for especial prayer, for I was about all day, having preached twice, and been two hours in the afternoon to hear Mr. Denham Smith. I must tell you all about it when I get home; but it is a curious thing that I heard him tell precisely the same stories about conversion that Miss Saunders mentioned. There was something very pleasing about it all, and parts of it were very powerful. But I confess I did not see wherein lay the secret of that remarkable success which God seems to have bestowed on him. Perhaps he is more in prayer than we are. But let us be thankful for what God has done, and take courage.

“I fully hope (D.V.) to be at T. W. on Saturday, but I shall not expect any of you dear daughters to meet me then, as I expect to find the house thoroughly uncomfortable, and shall most probably take up my quarters with some of the people. I rejoice to think of our settling at home again before very long, and am quite of opinion that the change home may do your dearest mother as much good as the change away. But how we are to take care of her and prevent her overfatiguing herself I know not. Of one thing, however, I am sure—viz. that we have dear, loving, and most helpful daughters, whose delight will be to be helpful. Most fully do I appreciate it, and most heartily do I thank God for it. Give my dearest love to all, and most especially to your mother; to Gurney also if he is with you. I am quite delighted at his Greek.

“Most affectionate
“E. H.”

It must not be supposed, however, that the parish suffered because other places profited. On the contrary, these brief trips were fitted in between his parochial duties, and by his work for others fresh energy seemed to be diffused into things at home. The newspapers might record his name at a meeting at the other end of England, but the following evening would see him at the night school or in his pulpit, or at what he seemed to love best of all, his Men’s Bible Class. He had a genius for teaching; whether it was children, or ladies, or undergraduates, or working men, it made no difference—the instruction was suited skilfully to every sort of mind. Many a former curate who reads these words will remember the Men’s Bible Class on Tuesday evenings. “All sorts and conditions of men” were there, a score or two at least: labourers, shop-assistants, artisans, clerks; there perhaps an ex-Indian judge, here a medical man; beside the Vicar sat his curates, who were always present; and then, after a hymn and prayer, the subject of last week was resumed, and in a simple conversational way the story of Abraham, or some other Scripture character, seemed to make the individual stand out before us like a man of our acquaintance, with difficulties and temptations which we felt were like our own.

There was no reading round, but a little friendly questioning to bring out the thoughts of the men.

On one of these occasions an elderly man of remarkable appearance made some striking observation on the subject of the evening; subsequent inquiries revealed a former student for the priesthood in the Romish Church, who, being unable to “swallow” the dogma of the Immaculate Conception when first promulgated, had been turned out of the College in Rome and afterwards joined the Church of England.

Mr. Hoare loved to address men, and was never more at home than when preaching at Cambridge to the undergraduates or addressing meetings of clergy, or, best of all, speaking in his own church at the monthly Men’s Services on Sunday afternoons. His choice of subjects and of texts was very striking, e.g. to the Mayor and Corporation upon “The wisdom that delivered the city,” to the Fire Brigades upon “Escape for thy life, lest thou be consumed,” to the Volunteers upon “Soldiers of Christ,” to the Friendly Societies on “A workman that needeth not to be ashamed,” etc.

These discourses were delivered with a solemnity, earnestness, and simple eloquence peculiarly his own, and were accompanied by gesture and tone of voice that made them intensely striking. No one who heard these addresses could ever forget them.

At the close of the first ten years of work in Tunbridge Wells came the great sorrow of his life.

Mrs. Hoare had been his truest help in the family and the parish, bringing up her ten children with wise and loving care, ruling her household and holding open house for every guest, and yet holding mothers’ meetings and visiting the sick and dying of the large parish of Holy Trinity (which then included the whole town). No one ever saw her in a hurry, none who wanted advice were turned away, and not a single duty seemed ever forgotten. In 1862 alarming symptoms appeared. Medical advice was taken; treatment and rest were tried, but in vain; the disease rapidly progressed, and after a cure was pronounced to be beyond medical skill, Mrs. Hoare resumed such of her parish work as was still within the compass of her strength, with the remark that, since rest was useless and her time was now short, she must work so long as power lasted! The loss of such a wife was indeed a deep sorrow, and the entries in his journal testify to the grief that wrung the husband’s heart.

On July 27th, 1863, she passed away, her last words calmly uttered—“Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”

The journal ends with her last message to her children: “I shall look for you at heaven’s gate.”

A few months afterwards Mr. Hoare wrote a touching and beautiful sketch of his beloved wife entitled “Sacred Memorials”; it was not published, but had a large circulation, finding its way even beyond this country.

The one great consolation in this overwhelming sorrow was, however, able to uphold him. The same truths which had strengthened her for an active life sustained her in suffering, and gave her unruffled peace to the end. The peace, the presence, and the power of the Lord Jesus Christ gave power to the faint and made him strong in the Lord. For twenty-four years they had worked side by side, and in the thirty-one years that remained he sometimes gently spoke of her as present though unseen, and joining in prayer for his work.

Towards the close of the year, when sending a line of welcome to his eldest daughter on her return home, he closes with these words, which have a pathetic power when read in the light of the recent bereavement:—

“T. W., November 27th, 1863.

“If there is so much pleasure in meeting those dear to us after these short separations, what will be the joy of the great reunion at the coming of the Lord!”

CHAPTER X
DOMESTIC LIFE AND FOREIGN TOURS

It was a delightful thing to see Mr. Hoare in the midst of his family. Some of us remember only the later years of his life, but the enjoyment which he then took in the company of his grandchildren was very charming to witness. Those, however, who recollect the time when his ten boys and girls were growing up around him, speak with much pleasure of the way in which he threw himself into all their feelings and pursuits, and the skill which he evinced in drawing out their characters. He tried hard, as he touchingly says in one of his letters, to be “father and mother in one.” In the bringing up of his children religion formed such a bright part of their life that allusions to it came in quite naturally into ordinary conversation. On one occasion, five years before Mrs. Hoare’s death, he makes the following entry in his journal:—

“September 19th, 1858.—Very much interested to-day by — [one of his younger boys]. I was talking at dinner about the great geological periods of creation. He said, ‘But it took place in one week.’ I answered, ‘Those days were probably long periods, as it says, “One day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.”’ He said, ‘I thought that meant that with the Lord we should be so happy that a thousand years would seem like one day, they would pass so quickly!’”

How God blessed his efforts is known to all who are acquainted with his family.

The following letter refers to these happy relationships:—

“T. W., March 3rd, 1864.

“My dear Daughters,—I cannot say how often we think of you, and how pleased I was to hear of your safe arrival and enjoyment at Oxford. I know few places in all England with more objects of interest than Oxford, and I have no doubt you will thoroughly enjoy your week there. We are getting on comfortably, though I have had rather too much of clerical meetings, having one on Monday and one to-day. But I hope it has been in the Lord’s service. On Monday we went through Romans xi., and I certainly thought that the Prophetics had studied the chapter better than the Clericals. But I was quite confirmed in the exposition at the Prophetical. I suppose Annie has told you of all our home doings. We really have got on very comfortably, but it seems very strange to have seven away out of the ten. I suppose, however, if God preserves me, I must look forward to more than that in future. The course of life seems to be that a person begins alone, and then, when God gives him the blessing of such a union as I have had, the house fills year after year, till at length the tide turns and the dispersion begins, till at last sometimes the question arises who shall be the companion of the aged father. But we have not come to that yet, or near it; and when it does come, if it ever does, I am sure it will be to draw us heavenward, and wean me more and more from earth to heaven. I am sure I have been far too much tied down below. Truly I may say, ‘My soul cleaveth unto the dust’; but I think I already feel something of the weaning power, and I trust I may feel it more and more. However, I scarcely ought to write so to you; but rather to thank God for the present mercies, for the past lovingkindness, and for my dear, dear daughters, who, I am sure, do all that daughters can to make my home happy. Dear love to you both, and to your uncle and aunt.

“Your most affectionate Father,
“E. H.”

In 1864 Mr. Hoare, accompanied by a brother and two of his sons, went for a tour in Switzerland. It was on their return that the first meeting took place between the writer and his future Vicar (as has been intimated in the Preface); and Mr. Hoare used to say, with reference to the mournful circumstances connected with that day, that he often asked himself, “Why should I be permitted to bring my boys back in health and strength, while this other father brings back only one of the two who went out on their holiday?”

The following letters were written at this time:—

“Lucerne, August 4th, 1864.

“My dear Girls,—We failed in catching the night train at Paris, so were obliged to come on yesterday by day to Basle, and to-day to this lovely place, which looks more beautiful than ever. I certainly think it is the most beautiful place I know in the world. To-morrow we strike into the mountains. . . . Everything thus far has prospered with us, but my heart hungers after home; and I don’t know how it is, but I always feel my loss most when I am away. I hardly knew how to bear it at Plymouth. I suppose the reason is that the thoughts are always dwelling on home and all its interests, so that all connected with it is more felt than ever. The boys are very bright and very agreeable, Edward being full of his conversation with the French, to his own great delight, and their great amusement. He travelled many hours yesterday in a carriage away from us, in order that he might ride with a large French family who had a compartment to themselves. Gurney is not so conversable, but has every appearance of being pre-eminently happy. We are now preparing to go up the Rigi for the night, and the whole party are gone to purchase alpenstocks. Would not you like to be going with us? But, oh! if it lasts so hot, I wonder how much there will be left of us when we reach the top. Dear love to all. Tell Lily I hope she will look after my garden as well as her own, and tell the bees we are getting on well, and met with excellent honey. Also you may tell — of this as the right time of year to plant some Melilotus Leucantha, and also some good strawberries. Let me know how the sunflowers are, and the rose-cuttings.

“Dearest love to all.

“Most affectionate
“E. H.”

Family-letter from abroad:—

“St. Luc, August 16th, 1864.

“My dearest Sons and Daughters,—‘Homeward Bound’ is always a pleasant sound, and so it is on this occasion, however pleasant our journey may have been, for I have been quite homesick for some days, and, like a schoolboy, have been counting the days till my return. I fully hope to be home on Saturday, but I cannot say at what time, as we have lost all reckoning as to hours. Indeed we may fail altogether, as we are acting contrary to my general rule, and propose to travel by the last train all the way from Basle, so that if anything fails at any point we shall be thrown out altogether. But I trust we shall arrive all right, and dear uncle with us. . . . I hope we may be home by the 6.20, but I cannot say positively, as I know nothing.

“I cannot say how I rejoice at the good accounts I hear from you. I have thought of you all with the utmost interest, and prayed for you with a father’s love. Tell the dear boys how pleased I have been to hear such good accounts of them. They little know how they have added to the pleasure of my journey, for if I had felt an anxiety respecting them, I could not have enjoyed even this beautiful country. Tell — and — likewise how very much I have been pleased with your report of them, and thank — and — for their letters.

“We had a splendid week last week, and many sacred remembrances of our happy journey together, and when we came to Zermatt it seemed so like old times that I could almost have looked out for you. The mountains seemed more beautiful than ever; but there they stand fixed, and know nothing of the changes that have taken place in the hearts and homes of those that look at them. But there is one thing more fixed and more permanent than they are; I mean the love of God in Christ Jesus. In it therefore we will seek to trust more and more, and I am sure He will never fail us, as He has never done yet, and we shall never be disappointed. I have accepted the Archbishop’s invitation, and I hope — will enjoy her visit. As for myself, I had sooner remain at home. But it is clearly right to go, and indeed I propose to make an effort and go out more than I have done lately. The boys send their very dear love, though they do not seem much disposed to express it on paper. That they leave to me. If any very nice person turns up who may be disposed to preach once on Sunday, it would be very acceptable; but I hope to reach home prepared.

“Dear love to all.

“Most affectionate
“E. H.”

Letter to his sons:—

“Sierre, August 16th, 1864.

“My dear Boys,—I have been so greatly pleased by the good report that I have had of you that I must write one line to tell you so. I am quite thankful for it, and I have no doubt you have had a happy holiday in consequence. I made some lines on the mountains to show that the way to be happy is to seek each other’s happiness:—

“‘When all begin to seek their own,
Then each must seek it quite alone;
But when all seek to please each other,
Then each is helped by every brother.’

“We have found this to be quite the case in travelling, for it is quite necessary when we travel to think of all the party, and strive to please every one. But I must not moralise, but tell you something of our journey. We have not had many adventures; but we have climbed up some terrible hills, and I can assure you it has been hard work. Up, up, up; puff, puff, puff; grunt, grunt, grunt; and still the farther you go, the mountains grow higher and higher. You think sometimes you are near the top, and, when you get there, you find another top higher still, and then another, till you get quite tired of tops. And coming down is hard work too. The mountains are covered with great loose stones, so that by the time you are at the bottom you are glad enough of a resting-place. We go to bed very early, the boys about eight, and I about nine. But then we make up for it at the other end, and by five o’clock, when you are all fast asleep, we are all moving, and sometimes almost off. The middle of the day is so hot, as our hands and faces will prove to you, that we can scarcely travel in the middle of the day, unless we be high up in the mountains, where the air is so beautifully fresh that we can do almost anything. We meet with a great many travellers, many of whom are wandering over the glaciers. They are a queer-looking set, with immense boots with large nails in them, with wideawakes and green veils tied over them, with a long pole in their hand with a spike at one end and an axe at the other. Then you see their guide marching behind with a similar axe, and a long rope on his back, which is used to strap the whole party together if they cross any dangerous place, so that, if one falls, the others may hold him up. And tremendous slips they sometimes have. A few days ago four men slipped and slid four hundred feet, more than twice the length of our garden, down a steep piece of ice with a huge precipice at the bottom, so that they would have been dashed to pieces if they had not stopped. But happily two of them struck their axes into the ice just in time, and so they hung on, close by the edge of the precipice, and were saved. I suppose some time or other I shall hear of you two being Alpine travellers. Gurney and Ted seem quite ready to begin;—but my time is past, and I must content myself with going only to those places where I can climb with poor wind and old legs. However, at Zermatt we met with Mr. and Mrs. —, who had been wandering over the highest glaciers, she being strapped by a rope to the guides. I suppose she liked it; but I am not sure it was quite the right place for a lady.

“Well! I hope we shall all be together, if God permit, on Saturday, and bring all our things with us, but some are already left behind, and others are waiting for us on the road, as we have taken hardly any luggage, so that a good many of our preparations were of no use at all. Since Monday morning we have had only a knapsack between us, so you may imagine we have not been very smart, and our evening dress has not been of the gayest kind. I fear also it has not always been of the cleanest, for we have not had things enough to change nearly so often as we should have liked. But we look forward to a glorious wash on Saturday. But one disadvantage of our having so little luggage is that we cannot bring home any Swiss curiosities. We have had enough to do to get our own absolute necessaries across the mountains; so we shall be obliged to come back quite empty-handed. But we shall come not empty-hearted, but full of love to all my dear ones. Good-bye. May God bless and keep you!

“Most affectionate
“E. H.”

The following letters have an individual interest of their own:—

“Tunbridge Wells, February 1st, 1866.

“I am sure it is very profitable as well as pleasant to have an occasional change in those we hear, and on the strength of this conviction I propose to take a weekday holiday for next seven weeks, as Mr. Burgess is to preach for me next Wednesday, and other brethren during Lent. So I hope to buckle to and get through Pusey on Daniel, if good friend Jacques is not reading it. I quite enjoy the thoughts of it, though really I ought to be thankful for our Wednesday evenings, though I must admit they are an effort to me.”

“Tunbridge Wells, May 20th, 1867.

“We have been getting on capitally, and had really a very pleasant Sunday. Campbell’s sermon was quite first-rate, and made a great impression on all who heard it. But I greatly fear he will not come as curate. I should esteem it a very great favour if the Lord were to send me some one who would give a little fresh fire to me as well as the people, for I sometimes find my own energies flag, and greatly desire to have some fresh zeal infused among us. Numbers of people wandered to other churches, but I believe no one regretted their worship in the Hall or Schoolroom. [151] We sang the hymn ‘Jesus, where’er Thy people meet,’ and I believe we beheld His ‘mercy-seat.’ The girls are going to Mr. — this evening with Brodie. I am going to stay at home, for I do not like the thought of sitting there for three hours. How strange it is the people think two hours too long for church, but like three hours for a lecture! I suppose they enjoy the one more than the other, and that makes all the difference. I am afraid they will find Heaven very dull.”

“Woodford Green, September 5th, 1867.

“It has been a great joy to me to hear such good reports of all the party, and I hope you will tell them all so. There is no text in the Bible which I can enter into more fully than this, ‘I have no greater joy than to know that my children walk in truth.’ To hear of and to witness your well-doing is the greatest joy I have in life, and if it please God to grant that we may all be one together for eternity, it will take eternity to express my thankfulness.”

On hearing of the sudden death of a friend:—

“York, May 24th, 1869.

“How rapidly and how unexpectedly do the greatest dangers take place! Truly we are living on the brink of eternity, and a few hours may find us in the midst of it. May the Lord keep us with our loins girt and our lamps burning, and we ourselves as those that wait for their Lord. I am thankful to say I have got on very comfortably, but I am too old to talk all day, and nothing suits me so well as home. I sometimes think I must give up travelling altogether; but then when I find how much my poor services seem to be valued I have my misgivings. We have had really noble collections, no less than £78 in one little church holding little more than two hundred persons, the richest of whom were shop-keepers and professional men; and £60 in another church where the congregation, though rather larger, was very much of the same character. We have therefore still much to learn at home, and none more than I have. It seems that we are only at the beginning, at the very threshold of heavenly knowledge, but what we can see on the threshold is enough to fill the soul with praise and gratitude.”

“Tunbridge Wells, April 26th, 1870.

“I have really been regretting your absence from the feast of fat things which we have lately been enjoying at home, for I consider we have had privileges of a very high order.

“Our Passion Week services were most profitable, and following as they did on Mr. Langston’s Lent sermons, they tended, I trust, to put a seal on impressions already formed, though I cannot say I have yet had the joy of discovering any cases of marked conversion as their consequence. I have, however, met with those who I think have been aroused to further progress, and who acknowledge the help given with real thankfulness.

“I trust also that our C.M.S. anniversary may be regarded as a token of progress. There has been an amazing amount of interest amongst our younger parishioners on the subject of the African Bishop, [153] so that yesterday the Mission-room was quite full, and again both the Trinity rooms in the evening. There were so many last night that there were several standing by the door of the girls’ room, and a collection of £14, containing an immense amount of copper. I confess I was anxious about our collection in church, especially when I found that we had not exceeded that of last year in the morning, but we picked up nobly in the afternoon and evening. In the evening alone there was £45, so that before we left church the collection reached £120, and there were £11 additional sent on Monday morning. I hope I may regard it as the fruit of all the admirable sermons that we have lately heard, and if so I shall regard it with peculiar thanksgiving, as showing that there has been not merely religious excitement but true religious principle at work amongst the people. And this is what we all want. It is to be living under the combined influence of principle and emotion, of deep feeling produced in the soul by strong conviction of Christian truth.

“I have been very much urged to go to Cheltenham, and if I go I should immediately set out for my long journey. But I do so enjoy my quiet work at home that I sometimes think I must never go out again. I ought, however, to be thankful for the privilege of being permitted to do the Lord’s work anywhere.”

In the autumn of 1870 Mr. Hoare, accompanied by one of his daughters, crossed the Atlantic, and spent nearly three months in a pleasant tour through the United States. It was a delightful holiday, and was the means of greatly strengthening and refreshing him for work at home. He had many good introductions, and went about seeing all that he could of the people, public institutions, and Church work, but beyond an occasional sermon Mr. Hoare made it a time of rest. No letters appear to have been preserved relating to this tour.

To Lady Buxton, after her son’s death:—

“Tunbridge Wells, August 22nd, 1871.

“I have thought of you so much lately and so affectionately that I must send you one line of loving remembrance, for I know how pleasant a thing it is to be remembered by those we love, especially when the remembrance leads to prayer. I am persuaded that very many have prayed for you under this very heavy sorrow. There are so many who feel the bitterness of it, all of whom connect you with it so intimately that I am persuaded there has seldom been a mourner more generally or more affectionately remembered before God.

“I think that solemn day at Fox Warren was, on the whole, very satisfactory. To me it was inexpressibly affecting to be surrounded by all the beauties of the most charming place, with his mind speaking in every brick and almost in every tree. I was so glad that I had paid him a visit there only a few weeks before—such a pleasant visit, and so remarkable for the charm of his society, although, poor dear fellow, I confess I was terrified about his health. But now all that is over, and, oh! how it does bring before us the overwhelming interest of the Heavenly Home!

‘“My Heavenly Home is bright and fair;
No pain or death can enter there.’

“I never remember to have felt more deeply the difference between things which can and which cannot be shaken. Oh, who can tell the blessing of an unshaken hope, an unshaken safety, an unshaken inheritance, and an unshaken home, all resting on unshaken promises and the unshaken covenant of God! These things which cannot be shaken must remain, and they will remain when all fair homes of this pleasant world are passed away for ever. May God keep us by His own grace grasping them with an unshaken faith, that, when Christ either comes to us or summons us to Him, we may meet Him without surprise and receive an abundant entrance into His Kingdom.”

Extracts from family-letters:—

“Patterdale, September 14th, 1871.

“I have received two very earnest invitations to Edinburgh, and one to Australia. I do not suppose that I shall accept either of them, certainly not the latter until my return; but if I accept the former it will delay my return a week. But I do not think it likely.

“Our journey thus far has been most prosperous. We have had beautiful weather, and a very happy party: Keswick and Derwentwater on Tuesday, Helvellyn and Ambleside yesterday, and Bowness and Patterdale to-day. As usual we have had several affectionate greetings, amongst others one from Sir — —, whom we met at Keswick. We were both very friendly, but it was impossible not to feel that we were both under constraint from the sense of great divergence. We both scrupulously avoided any points of difference, but both showed clearly that there were too many rocks on which we might split at any moment. And yet I feel reproved by the zeal he had shown in his endeavours to do good to his guide. I am sure there are many lessons which we may learn from those who widely differ from us, and the more we value the blessed truths which God has made known to us, the more humbled we ought to feel at the want of fervour with which we endeavour to maintain them.

“To-morrow we hope to reach Carlisle, and I hope I may be prospered there. But I find it very difficult to work up much zeal about the Jews. What I do feel is entirely the result of Scriptural conviction, and not of any personal interest. The Jew in Scripture is certainly a much more interesting character than the Jew in Petticoat Lane. But we profess to act on Scriptural principles, and therefore ought to persevere, even though it be in the dark.”

“Cromer, September 28th, 1871.

“I am greatly pleased by your letter of this morning. It was indeed a most profitable sermon of Mr. Edmonstone’s, and I have felt the powerful influence on my own mind of it and the life of Agnes Jones. I trust, therefore, that my Cromer visit has been thus far really for good, and I feel, myself, a fresh stimulus for the sacred work to which the Lord has called us.”

“Ely, October 7th, 1871.

“I have been thinking of you all day in your return to the dear old home, and have almost felt disposed to envy you, for I am satisfied with holiday-making and begin to long for home. However, I have consented to return to Cromer from Nottingham, to pay a visit of a few days to your Uncle Richard, so that I expect to enjoy the hospitality of three of my brothers, which is very satisfactory to me. Nothing could have exceeded the kindness of all parties, and I am not without a hope that there has been some blessing on my ministry. But I cannot say it has been a time of rest, and I feel the want of repose more than I do at home. I suppose this is why I write so slowly, so badly, and with such difficulty that I am sure I never should do for Secretary to the C.M.S. [157]: the first long letter would knock me up for the day.”

“Nottingham, October 10th, 1871.

“I have been venturing on a speech this morning in which I think the Lord prospered me. I desired to speak for Him, and I was certainly most kindly received.” [158a]

“Cromer, October 16th, 1871.

“You need not be at all frightened about the Dean, for it is on Wednesday the 25th that he comes to us. The sermon, etc., is on the 26th, and on that day we ought to have an S.P.G. luncheon. I think it would be well to ask the Committee soon. The list may be found in the S.P.G. report, under the head ‘Local’ on the top shelf.

“I feel doubly interested in the thought of my return, and trust it may be with a greater realisation of our completeness in Christ Jesus and of the blessedness of working not merely for Him but in Him. I felt this most remarkably at Nottingham, and I believe it resulted in power, at all events on one occasion referred to in the paper which I have asked — to send to you.

“The Congress was very interesting, but too exciting. The week was one of great exhaustion, though I am thankful I was there, and I believe God gave power to those who were endeavouring to be witnesses for the truth. I cannot doubt but on the whole they did well and carried the people with them. With only one exception, they spoke with wisdom and power, like men who were being prayed for, as indeed we all were by many in the Hall. But the close attention, the hot room, the many friends, and the anxiety as to the issue took a great deal out of me, so that I am to-day really enjoying a quiet morning over my letters.

“Amongst others I saw a great deal of the Bishop of Sydney, and found him very strong about the Australian idea. [158b] He says it is the very thing that he has long desired for his own diocese. But I do not yet see the call of God sufficiently clearly to have my judgment really inclined to it. If the Lord makes His way plain, I hope to be ready to go, but God forbid that I should go one step without His orders.”

From the Archbishop of Canterbury:—

“Addington Park, Croydon, September 24th, 1868.

“To Rev. Ed. Hoare.

“Dear Mr. Hoare,—It will give me very great pleasure if you will accept the office of Honorary Canon of Canterbury, to which your standing in the diocese and the services which you have rendered to the Church by your zeal and ability in the discharge of your ministerial functions amply entitle you.

“Believe me, dear Mr. Hoare,
“Very sincerely yours,
“C. T. Cantuar.”

The offer of an Honorary Canonry in Canterbury Cathedral, made in 1868 by Archbishop Longley, was the only dignity which he ever received; why this should have been the case is a question that has often been asked, and to which no satisfactory answer has ever been made. Canon Hoare would have made an admirable Bishop: he was a born ruler and administrator; his intellectual powers and wide sympathies (for which those who knew him superficially gave him no credit), together with his power of inspiring enthusiasm in all his subordinates, would have been good qualities for that high position, and not the least advantages which he possessed were a fine presence and commanding personality.

But he neither sought nor wished for promotion, and remained to the last what he loved to be, a pastor in the midst of a devoted flock, with more opportunities of preaching the Gospel of Christ at home and throughout England than fell to the lot of most men, and, as one remarked to him when the subject happened to be referred to in a newspaper, “Man has not promoted you, but God has, by permitting you to be the means of bringing blessing to more souls than any one whom I know.” Looking at the subject in that aspect, it is impossible to deny that his exceptional talents were specially suited to the sphere which he adorned, and thus we may believe that God overruled the apparent neglect of men for the greater advancement of His truth.

CHAPTER XI
PAROCHIAL MISSIONS

Five-and-twenty years ago parochial missions were in a different position from that in which they stand at present.

There were very few mission preachers, and they had a good many difficulties to contend with. Some looked askance at the new movement and thought it savoured of Rome; others deemed it “exciting,” and unworthy of the calm atmosphere of the Church of England.

It had not then been reduced to a science: missioners adopted their own individual methods, as seemed best to them. Canon Hoare at an early stage of the history of the movement recognised its vast possibilities, and believed that it was just what was wanted to save the Church from stagnation, and arouse men from that dangerous respectability which enables them to repeat the General Confession, but which declines to particularise. All through his ministry his aim had been to reach individuals, and he saw the opportunities of so doing in the work of a mission.

The first invitation which he accepted was that given by the Vicar of Holy Trinity, Nottingham, on the occasion of a general mission throughout that town in 1872. Being his first, it was a time of the most intense and thrilling interest, and the letters describing it are therefore given at more length than those that refer to later missions. Not that this work lost any of its freshness to him; during the twelve years that followed he undertook similar missions frequently, sometimes twice in a year. The opportunity was always fraught with the deepest and most prayerful interest to the preacher; his congregation, moreover, will remember how he used to return to them after such occasions, not wearied, but fresher than ever, and all aflame with spirituality, power, and love.

His scheme of subjects for a mission was very wisely drawn up; some of these have been printed, and evince great knowledge of human nature. The writer well remembers how that, when he was going to undertake a mission for the first time, Canon Hoare sent for him and said, “Tell me your order of sermons and Bible-readings.” It was mentioned in detail; he replied, “I see very little about the ‘New Life.’” He was referred to the subject of “consecration.” “Well,” said he, “if you will take my advice, you will leave that out. I say little about ‘consecration,’ because that is man’s work. Make the life which is God’s gift one entire subject; its necessity, its source, and its reality; and consecration will follow.” His advice was taken, with the happiest results.

To his daughters:—

“Trinity Vicarage, Nottingham, February 6th, 1872.

“I think I may thus far give a thankful report of my journey. As I passed through London I had a most interesting and encouraging conversation with Mr. —, and a pleasant journey down to this place with —. We arrived just in time to have a hurried cup of tea, and go off to the public prayer-meeting in the Exchange Hall. This was a wonderful sight: the large Hall was crammed full, and many were unable to gain admittance. It was a very striking contrast to the busy market outside. There was a great deal of singing from a very nice little book of the S.P.C.K., and a remarkable address from old Aitken. The best part of it was an exposition of Asa’s prayer: the rest was awakening, and, I hope, profitable, very earnest and very affectionate, but it did not move me, though some people said it almost threw them into hysterics. I offered a prayer myself, and three others besides Aitken. I liked them all thoroughly, and came away, I hope, the better, though the meeting had lasted nearly two hours. So having come here and received a most warm welcome from my pleasant host (Rev. Allan Smith) and hostess, I lay down and awoke fresh and happy for the Sunday’s work. Mrs. Smith is daughter of my old friend Mr. Linton of Oxford, and even you could not make me more comfortable than she does!

“Well! Sunday dawned upon us, and at 10.30 service began. The church is not so large as our own, and was not so well filled, but they were pleased with the attendance. I preached on the deep sleep in Isaiah xxix., and I believe the Lord was with us. They were attentive all through, and towards the close many of them were much affected, so much so that I gave notice I would have a Bible class in the church at 3.45 p.m. for a re-consideration of the subject. The Lord’s Supper was very solemn, and many were in tears, especially two old gentlemen whom I hope to be able to see during the week. So we went home thankful.

“The Bible class in the afternoon was well attended. There must have been more than a hundred present, including several gentlemen, so that I was well repaid for the effort, though very tired when it was over and scarcely up to the Evening Service. However, when the time came I was fresh again, and I believe the Lord helped me. There was a larger congregation than in the morning, but I did not see the same evidence of impression. I preached on the old subject, Exod. xii. 23, and, though there was deep attention, I did not perceive the same emotion. Then followed the prayer-meeting: this was most interesting. The large room was quite full, and during certain periods of silence I heard the sound of weeping in many parts of it. Mr. Smith gave a short address and offered prayer; I did the same, and longed to know how to manage such a meeting. After a time I dismissed them, and invited any to remain who liked. But they all seemed unwilling to go, and it was some time before they began to move. But at last the room was cleared, and then what should I see but two clergymen with their faces covered, in trouble about their souls. One proved to be a most deeply interesting case. He told me his difficulties without any reserve, and at length went away declaring himself satisfied. I really believe he learned the way of peace.

“Meanwhile Mr. Smith was speaking to four adults one by one, and I then found a row of five young people waiting for me. In three of them, especially one, I thought there was great reality, but I had not time to speak with them separately, and I cannot say I was satisfied with the interview. I hope to see one of them again to-night, when I trust there may be more decisive results.

“All this quite freshened me up, so that I was ready and in good heart this morning to start off for the service in Adams’ Factory at eight. The place was quite full, so that there must have been about three hundred present. As they all dispersed immediately to their work, I had no opportunity of any personal intercourse, but they listened with great attention, and I can only hope the Lord gave His blessing.

“I am now enjoying a quiet morning, writing, reading, thinking, and praying; remembering with great affection my dear friends at home who are praying for me, and most especially the three dear daughters left at home to help their father by their prayers and each other by their mutual help. May the Lord be with you!”

“Trinity Vicarage, Nottingham, February 9th, 1872.

“I can hardly tell you what an interesting week I have had. It has been without doubt the most encouraging in my whole ministry. I never knew so many persons awakened under my sermons in so short a time, and I am thankful to say that many of them, and many more who have been previously anxious, have been brought to see the way of life in Christ Jesus their Saviour. I cannot say how deeply I thank God for it, or how it has stirred me up to look out more hopefully for a great blessing at home, and also amongst the young men at Cambridge. I hope you all continue to pray for me.

“Last night I had first a strong middle-aged man come to speak to me under deep conviction of sin; and then a most respectable woman who had no peace in her soul. These two took so long that I was obliged to send for another clergyman to come and help me with the remainder, as there were sixteen waiting in the outer room to see me.

“The greater part of the morning has been occupied by my Bible class, but I had one hour for inquirers, during which there came one of the leading gentlemen of Nottingham, and a most interesting inquirer who had been in deep anxiety for years, and who, I believe, through God’s mercy left the vestry at peace in Christ Jesus. Oh, what can I render unto the Lord for all His goodness to me! Dear love to the dear sisters and to all who pray for us.”

“Cambridge, February 12th, 1872.

“I hope to be home, if it please God, to-morrow by express, and look forward with the deepest interest to my return. One thing is clear, and that is—we must seek to go forward, and look out for far greater results than ever.

“Saturday was a sacred day. I went in the morning on my way to church to see some of those who had been awakened, and found them peacefully trusting in their blessed Saviour.

“I then went to the church to see any that might come to me, and my whole hour was filled up by most interesting cases, one of a most touching character. At 11.30 I gave a short parting address in the church to about a hundred people, and at twelve left for the train, after the most kind and grateful farewells from numbers of people who wished to thank me for my ministry. It has been a new era in my life, and I trust has done me great good.

“I arrived here after five o’clock, swallowed some dinner, and hurried off to the gownsmen’s meeting, which began at six. I did not know how to turn my mind to a new subject, but still I hope the Lord helped me, and it gave me the opportunity of inviting the young men to meet me on Sunday night.

“Well! Sunday came, and I believe the Lord was with us. There was a large morning congregation, and many of the people were deeply moved. Oh, how I longed to ask them to come and open their griefs! but the Vicar would not give me leave to do so, so I was obliged to leave them to God, and perhaps that was better.

“In the evening I stood up in dear old Simeon’s pulpit. The church was crammed with gownsmen, and I believe the Holy Spirit was with us. I then had a cup of tea in Carlos’ rooms, and went off to the meeting of gownsmen. The room was quite full. I gave them an address on Justification and Sanctification, illustrated by some facts in my Nottingham experience. I believe that I might have had many coming to me for help if I had only invited them; but I was stupid, and did not do it.

“But one dear fellow seemed as if he could not go away: he came and took me by the hand, and would not let go. The others all left the room, and then he poured out the troubles of his soul. I thank God his difficulties were removed, and we walked home together blessing and praising God. Oh, what shall I render unto the Lord for all His goodness to me!”

The following extract describes a return visit three months later to the scene of his first Mission:—

“Nottingham, May 30th, 1872.

“But I have no words to describe the interest of my short visit here. Nothing could be more satisfactory. I found almost all those in whom I trusted a work was begun standing fast and thankful in the Lord. Many of them were so transformed from the look of gloom and depression which they had in February to a look of peaceful, confiding thankfulness, that I could scarcely believe they were the same persons; and their affection, their gratitude, and their pleasure in meeting me again were truly touching to my heart.”

Leeds Church Congress:—

“Leeds, October 8th, 1872.

“In almost an hour I am going down to the battle, as weak as David, but I hope to find the help of David’s God. There is an enormous gathering for the Congress, and people of all classes will be there. Oh, how earnestly I hope and pray that the Blessed Spirit will rest on all there who are called to speak for their blessed Saviour!”

Mission at Hull:—

“Hull, November 25th, 1872.

“Many thanks both to you and — for your letters, for I delight to hear from you, and think of you with most heartfelt and loving prayers.

“I had a very pleasant, quiet, unfatiguing journey, quite by myself all the way from London, so that I had no temptation or obligation to talk. At Tranby I had a most affectionate and brotherly welcome, and came on here on Saturday, full of hope and thanksgiving for the privilege of speaking to so many people about their souls.

“Immediately on my arrival I went to a meeting of Communicants, very much like our own, and then to a very uninteresting conference of the clergy; so we did not really begin work till yesterday. In the morning there was a fine congregation, and in the evening one still larger, with a prayer-meeting after it, in a large hall which was so full many could not get in. As a mode of intercourse with the people it of course completely failed, but as an indication of their interest it was very encouraging, and I am happy to say that, one way or another, I have already met with several persons anxious about their state, and I am thankful to be able to add that some of them have gone home with the expression of great satisfaction to their souls as the result of what they have been taught.

“I have therefore great reason to be thankful for a beginning, and from what I have seen of the first droppings of the shower I cannot help hoping that there is a real blessing in store.

“Immense pains have been taken all over the town, and much prayer offered, so that we have a right to look for great things.

“My throat is not at all the worse for yesterday, and, if anything, better; but I tumbled about all night with a very hot head after the excitement of the day.

“My host and hostess are most kind and agreeable: they make me exceedingly comfortable, and are people quite able to carry out their hospitable intentions, so that I am very well off; but I am not sure that Thorold is not wise in going into a lodging, so as to avoid the necessity of conversation, for I really believe that talking fatigues more than preaching, and I sometimes long to be alone, or at all events to be able to get away into my own study just when I please. But I ought not to say so, for I am as comfortable as man can make me. Pray for me, that I may have wisdom and power given to me.”

Specimen of one of Canon Hoare’s “Mission Subjects”:—

St. Dunstan’s Mission.—November 12th to 22nd, 1880.

Nov. 12th.—To Communicants. Psalm cv. 40: “He satisfied them with the bread of heaven.”

Nov. 13th.—Prayer-Meeting. Psalm xcvii. 5: “The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord.”

Nov. 14th.—M. Jonah ii. 9: “Salvation is of the Lord.” A Divine Saviour; Salvation; Revelation; Application.

E. Gen. xlii. 21: “We are verily guilty.” Conscience—may be seared, 1 Tim. iv. 2; defiled, Titus i. 15; aroused, John viii. 9; purged, Heb. x. 22.

Nov. 15th.—M. Propitiation: (1) Divine, Rom. iii. 25; (2) Complete, Heb. ix. 12; (3) Final, Heb. ix. 28; (4) Satisfies conscience, Heb. ix. 14; (5) Sufficient, Heb. x. 18.

E. Heb. xii. 24: “The blood of sprinkling.” Speaks of complete atonement, full remission of sin, Heb. x. 22, ix. 22.

Nov. 16th.—M. Forgiveness: (1) Present, Psalm xxxii. 1; (2) Complete, Micah vii. 19; (3) Dependent on atonement, Rom. iii. 25; (4) First gift of the New Covenant, Jer. xxxi. 34—“for.”

A. To Mothers. Heb. ii. 13: “I will put my trust in the Lord. . . . Behold, I and the children whom Thou hast given me.”

E. Job ix. 29: “If I be wicked, why then labour I in vain?” (1) The difficulty; (2) The remedy—“the Daysman” or Mediator, ver. 33.

Nov. 19th.—M. Justification, Rom. v. 1–10: (1) Five blessings from, vv. 1–5; (2) Through reconciliation, ver. 10; (3) To whom given, vv. 6, 8, 10; (4) When given, vv. 6, 8—“yet.”

E. John v. 28, 29: “The hour is coming.” (1) The voice; (2) The resurrection; (3) The separation.

Nov. 18th.—M. The New Birth, John iii. 1–16: (1) The necessity, ver. 7; (2) A spiritual change, ver. 6; (3) By the sovereign power of the Holy Ghost, vv. 5, 8; (4) Found before the Cross of Christ, vv. 14–16.

A. To Church-Workers. Zech. iv. 1–10. (1) “By My spirit”; (2) The mountain removed; (3) Christ will finish His work; (4) Small things; (5) Christ the King and Priest supplies all, ver. 3.

E. John v. 25: “The dead shall hear.” (1) Dead conscience; affections; hope, etc.; (2) The dead hear; (3) The dead live.

Nov. 19th.—M. Sanctification: (1) In the heart, Psalm xl. 8; (2) The standard, 1 John iii. 3; (3) The difficulty, 1 John i. 8; (4) Progressive, 2 Peter iii. 18; (5) By the use of Scripture, John xvii. 17; (6) By the sight of the Lord Jesus, 2 Cor. iii. 18; (7) Must follow, not precede forgiveness, Jer. xxxi. 33, 34.

E. Matt. xxvii. 46: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (1) The imputation of sin to Christ; (2) The certainty of complete satisfaction; (3) The burden of unforgiven sin.

Nov. 20th.—Prayer-Meeting. Psalm xxxiv.: The song of the delivered.

Nov. 21st.—M. Psalm cxix. 94: “I am Thine.” (1) By the gift of the Father, John xvii. 2; (2) By redemption through the Son, 1 Cor. vi. 20; (3) By the life-giving power of the Holy Ghost, John vi. 63; (4) By personal surrender to God, Rom. xii. 1.

A. To Men only. 2 Cor. vi. 18: “I will be a Father unto you.”

E. Exod. xxi. 5: “I love my master; I will not go out free.” (1) The new master; (2) The old master.

Nov. 22nd.—Jude 24: “Him that is able to keep you from falling.”

Summary: (1) Finished propitiation; (2) Free gift; (3) Life-giving power of the Holy Ghost.

CHAPTER XII
PARISH WORK

Some men are in great request as preachers and speakers outside their parishes, but for some reason or other they are not very useful at home.

It was not so with the subject of this memoir. The prophet in this case was honoured in his own country. On Sunday mornings, three-quarters of an hour before service began, many aged and poor parishioners might be seen making their way into the church to secure good seats. In Holy Trinity the free seats are more in number than those that are appropriated, and some of the former are in the best part of the church; all these were filled long before the hour for the commencement of service. As eleven o’clock drew near the congregation were in their places, and the aisles were filled with strangers in every available spot waiting in the hope of some possible seat. It was a common thing in the summer for as many as a hundred to go away unable to get accommodation. The writer well remembers the profound impression which the Sundays used to make upon his mind. The old Vicar and his curates were in the vestry in good time robed and ready; [174] having knelt in prayer, there was a silent interval, and exactly to the moment when the clock in the tower struck, the vestry door was opened and they passed out into the church.

Sometimes this was a slow work, as the people stood close together; some were sitting on the pulpit stairs, and the clergy had to thread their way to the chancel rails.

When service began the cushions at the rails were all occupied by worshippers kneeling upon them. Canon Hoare generally took part in the service, which was conducted in the simple old-fashioned way, read, not “toned down” in the manner now so prevalent.

When the preacher ascended the high pulpit it was an impressive thing to see that great congregation, over sixteen hundred in number, ranged beneath in the body of the building and around him in the deep galleries, waiting for his words. His prayer before the sermon was a very striking one, and it was always in the following words: “Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, who hast purchased to Thyself an universal Church by the precious blood of Thy dear Son, and hast promised that the Holy Spirit should abide with us for ever: may we now enjoy His sacred presence! May He direct the word which shall now be spoken, and apply it with Divine power to all our hearts, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Those sermons were wonderful, delivered so well that few could believe them to be written discourses, which they were; with changes of tone which made the sentences impress themselves upon the memory; the manner so solemn, as befitted the ambassador, and yet so pleading, as became the father. The eloquent language attracted the intellectual mind, and the remarkable simplicity of expression appealed to the simplest understanding. The matter of these sermons was, however, their great charm.

The atonement wrought by Christ was their great theme. Many preachers, when enlarging upon other subjects, bring in this doctrine at the close of their discourse, but with Canon Hoare the great foundation of our faith, viz. the substitution of Christ for the sinner, and His finished work of propitiation applied by the Holy Spirit, was always visible, not as a thing to be brought in at the end, but already there, as the centre and pivot of all that he said; hence no doubt the power of his words, and withal as a thing much to be observed was the extraordinary freshness with which he was able to present, Sunday after Sunday, the old story of the Cross, old but ever new.

Very powerful were those discourses, for they were full of teaching. The preacher was a deep student of his Bible,—“After diligently working down into it for fifty years,” he used to say, “I am still only scratching the surface!”—and he possessed moreover an unusual power of imparting knowledge; he was pre-eminently a teacher, and among the many privileges which his curates enjoyed none was so great as the Scriptural teaching which they received in their Vicar’s sermons. After the preacher had concluded there was a short prayer, followed by the blessing, and then, with nothing to take away the impression of the solemn words to which they had listened, the congregation dispersed. There were three or four services in the Parish Church every Sunday, besides the shortened Morning Service in the hospital and Mission Service in the large Parish Room; there were also five Sunday Schools, and many classes on the same day for old and young men, women, and senior girls.

Though in his vigorous days he always preached twice, he was in the habit of opening the principal boys’ school every Sunday morning, and in the afternoon visiting one or other of the various schools and classes, finishing all by slipping into the afternoon service in time to hear the sermon preached by one of his curates. By these means he kept in touch with everything going on in the parish.

The weekday work was enormous and varied. The Parish Room, so called—really a large building containing a hall and different rooms—was occupied nearly every hour of every day in some part or other; and in the parish at large every conceivable kind of agency for the temporal and spiritual good of rich and poor was to be found, all animated by real energy and spiritual power. Many a time have the workers heard from their Vicar’s lips, “Let us not be content with machinery; what we want is Life.”

The Sunday Evening Services in the Parish Room were deeply interesting. For half an hour beforehand the volunteer choir sang hymns to attract the people in, and workers went into bar-rooms and common lodging-houses to bring in any who would come.

It was a very moving sight, about three hundred people, some of them degraded in vice, packed close together, joining in the familiar hymns, and listening with attention to the speaker. Canon Hoare often said that, intensely as he delighted in the opportunity, it was at times more than he could bear to realise the depth of sin in which many lived who were gathered together at these services—the responsibility of the preacher seemed on such an occasion to be so enormous.

Except as occasional workers, he never would allow the regular church-goers to attend the Mission Room services. “This service is not for you,” he used to say; “it is a stepping-stone to the church.” And such it was. The process of transformation used to be watched with interest in those cases where some poor degraded creature, either there or at the Temperance meetings, was led to “take the first turn to the right, and then go straight on,” as Bishop Wilberforce once tersely put it. Soon the ragged clothing improved, the whole appearance altered; after a while it might be said of such that, clothed and in their right mind, they sat at the feet of Jesus; and then by degrees moving on to the church, they might be seen at the Lord’s Table, or sitting in the adult Confirmation Class in preparation for that sacred privilege.

There were low slums in that parish, but, as Canon Hoare used often to say, “The Church of England can and does reach the lowest of the low, and can bring the Gospel to bear upon the vilest, without the aid of a fiddle or a flag!” One practical difficulty met him at first in the Parish (or Mission) Room services. Many a poor tramp, weary and footsore, used to say when asked to come in: “I have eaten nothing since the morning. Can you give me food? I want that more than the service.” When these answers were reported to him Mr. Hoare used to say, “And if I were in their place I should make the same reply.” It then became a matter of consideration what could be done to remove this difficulty, and yet not give anything like a bribe to induce people to come to these services for a paltry motive. After a great deal of thought and consultation with the workers, it was determined to give a slice of bread and cheese to any poor hungry ones who were not residents, but passing through the place, and in the cold weather a mug of coffee was added. This plan worked admirably; only a few asked for the food, but those received it, and what had been a very real hindrance at the first was satisfactorily removed.

Most if not all of our Religious Societies were well supported in the parish, but the three in which Mr. Hoare seemed to take the warmest interest were the Church Missionary Society, the Church Pastoral Aid Society, and the Irish Church Missions. For the first and last of these three there were, besides the Great Hall meetings, crowded gatherings for the poorer parishioners in the Parish Room. Canon Hoare was an incorporated member of the S.P.G., and had an annual sermon for that society, but of course the Church Missionary Society had the love of his whole heart. What he was to that society every one knows, and he infused some of his missionary enthusiasm into the town, and especially his own parish.

The Church Missionary Society anniversary was indeed a “field-day.” Long prepared for, it was anticipated with keen interest; the best deputations came down, and nearly every church in the town joined in the celebration. Canon Hoare generally preached in the old Chapel of Ease in the morning, but always occupied his own pulpit in the evening of that day, and what a thronged congregation there was on these occasions! The whole soul of the preacher seemed to go forth in his subject, and his hearers were thrilled by the trumpet call of that missionary sermon. In later years the thought of his dearly loved son and daughter working for God in China brought a special and personal interest into his words—not that he spoke of them, but somehow one could feel that they were in his thoughts. The collections on these occasions were very large; in former years £100 was thought the proper thing as the result of the Anniversary Services in Trinity Church, but gradually the amount crept up until about ten years before his death, when on one anniversary, in his absence through illness, it was suggested by the evening preacher that it would be a cheer to their beloved Vicar if £200 were reached; and right liberally was the appeal answered. After the sermon two gentlemen came into the vestry to inquire the amount collected, “for,” said they, “whatever the deficit may be, we will make it £200”; but their kindly help was not needed, as more than that sum was already counted out upon the vestry table!

From that day £200 was looked upon as the proper sum from Trinity Church for the Church Missionary Society anniversary.

The parish schools for boys, girls, and infants were all first-rate, and Canon Hoare prided himself upon having the best boys’ school in the diocese; but he was not content with the welfare of his own schools—it was his wish to strengthen all Church schools in the town. We hear now a good deal about the confederation of Church schools. More than twenty-five years ago the Vicar of Holy Trinity started such a confederation. Every Church school in Tunbridge Wells elected its members, and sent them to the periodic meetings, where matters of interest were discussed, weak points strengthened, and preparation made for dangers that threatened. This was only one of the many things in which his statesmanlike ability showed itself; Edward Hoare was one of those “men that had understanding of the times, to know what (the spiritual) Israel ought to do.” The power of such men is readily felt and acknowledged. “All their brethren are at their commandment.”

It would be impossible to write about the work in Holy Trinity parish without alluding to the Ladies’ Bible Class. This was a remarkable feature of his ministry, and, like most of his works, was going on before it had been suggested or thought of in other places.

This was not a Bible-reading, but a class for teaching by preparation beforehand, and at the time by question and answer. The answering was, of course, not compulsory, but nearly every one present in the large assembly of ladies took part.

The teaching was marvellous; sometimes it was a topic or a life in Scripture, sometimes a portion of the Prayer-Book or the Articles. The mastery of the subject and the power of conveying the same clear knowledge to other minds were very striking. Some have even said that they considered this class to have been his greatest work in Tunbridge Wells. The enthusiastic letters which have been received during the past thirty years from generations of young people who, having been taught by him, went forth into life educated and fortified in religious truth, testify to the fact that these classes formed in many an instance the real turning-point of life.

Twice in the period that he was Vicar of Holy Trinity a Parochial Mission was held, the respective missioners being the Rev. Rowley Hill, afterwards Bishop of Sodor and Man, and the Rev. H. Webb Peploe. Each time it was a grand success, greatly owing, under God, to the prayer and preparation which preceded it. The second mission was remarkable for the number of men whom it reached; at the services for men only there used to be two thousand listeners crammed into the church. Being well followed up, these missions left a glorious mark in the parish. Canon Hoare used often to quote the words of some foreign pastor, “The Church of England is the best in the world at throwing the net, but the worst at drawing it in,” and he always added, “Let us not fall into that error, but draw in the net”; and so he did. How familiar to the ears of his old curates were the words that he often said on Sunday morning from the pulpit at the close of some instructive sermon, “If there are any who would like this matter explained further, I shall be glad to see them this afternoon in the Parish Room at a quarter past four”; and he has often remarked, “I have never given this notice without getting some earnest souls who wanted help.”

“Pray for people and look out for God’s answer,” was the direction that he used to give to his workers, and in this lay surely one of the secrets of his great success as a pastor. The characteristic of Holy Trinity parish was “Life”; the Holy Spirit was manifestly at work in the place, blessing the various agencies among rich and poor, young and old, arousing, renewing, converting, and edifying.

One of his loving fellow-workers thus recalls an experience of this in the earlier years of Canon Hoare’s ministry at Tunbridge Wells:—

“I recollect well a great spiritual movement that took place over the whole parish, then undivided except by St. John’s. People, men and women, came to us, chiefly of course to him, asking for help in their spiritual state—people who had been living entirely secular lives. There seemed to have been no special cause for it—no mission—no exciting preaching; it was caused by his careful parish work and ministry. This went on for, I think, about two months; we kept it very quiet, spoke of it only to a few prayerful people, but they were praying for it; at length, however, it got out, and a few unwise persons—some of whom were Church people and some were not—got down Revivalists and hired the Town Hall to throw excitement into the work. Immediately it ceased! I build no theory or argument upon the fact, I merely say what I noticed.”

The same writer continues thus:—

“About that time we began the Evening Communion, and I recollect well our astonishment at the result. Such a number of new faces whom either we did not know or never saw at Holy Communion! Servants, lodging-house keepers, wives of working men, whom practically we had been excommunicating by having the Holy Communion only at the hours when we had hitherto celebrated it.”

All who had the sacred privilege of working with Canon Hoare in his splendidly ordered parish will agree in this, that two clauses of our Church’s Creeds were ever before his eyes: one was the note of all his preaching; the other, the motive and reward of all his work.

“I believe in the Forgiveness of Sins.”

“I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Lord, and Giver of Life.”

This chapter, which describes some of the parochial work of the parish, would not be complete without a reference to a great organisation which, though not of the parish, yet annually assembled in it, viz. “The Aggregate Clerical Meeting.” Shortly after his appointment to Tunbridge Wells, at a time when no conferences of clergy, now so common, had been thought of, the idea of the great spiritual benefit to be gained by such an annual gathering made Mr. Hoare determine to try the experiment. Having consulted with some friends, he sent invitations to the members of seven “Clerical Societies” in the neighbouring parts of Kent, Sussex, and Surrey, to assemble in Tunbridge Wells in the month of June for a series of meetings, not for the public, but for themselves, lasting over two days, with a sermon in Trinity Church on the evening of the first day and a celebration of the Holy Communion in the morning of the day following. All invited guests were given hospitality in the houses of kind friends. The Conference thus assembled met annually for about forty years, and from the first to the last meeting Canon Hoare was its President, although on two occasions illness obliged him to depute another as the chairman. From its small beginning it soon spread, sending its invitations through the South-East of England, although drawing the greater part of its members (who numbered altogether nearly five hundred) from the three counties named above. Laymen too, “introduced by a clergyman,” were invited to attend, and gladly availed themselves of the opportunity. Most of the great Evangelical men have preached at its annual gatherings, and papers and addresses of the greatest possible interest have been given at these meetings. All however who have attended on these occasions will agree in this, that the one thing to which every one looked forward was the closing address of the President. Precious words were always given him to speak, full of spiritual experience and loving exhortation.

The value of conferences like these is now acknowledged everywhere, but it is only due to the one whose memory we affectionately cherish that the credit of originating them should be here given to him whose foreseeing mind recognised the blessings such meetings would confer.

CHAPTER XIII
THE BORDERLAND

The most important crisis of Canon Hoare’s life was now drawing near—a time which, though it seemed to be full of trouble, was really a period of blessing to himself, to his congregation, and to a far wider circle than his own devoted people.

In a former chapter there was a reference to the invitation which, issuing first from his old friend Bishop Perry of Melbourne, was taken up by other Australian prelates, viz. that Canon Hoare should visit Australia in about two years’ time and make a mission tour throughout their dioceses in the principal towns. The project assumed a tangible shape, and details began to be considered; the whole thing, including the journeys each way, was calculated to take ten months. He was absent from his parish for almost exactly the very period, and at the very same time during which the Australian tour would have taken place, but his absence was due to the consequences of that Roman fever which nearly cost him his life. When Canon Hoare first spoke of this to the writer it was with the deepest solemnity; he said: “I am never quite satisfied in my mind as to whether the Lord had not a specially humbling message for me in that fever; the Australian plan was given up because I thought I ought not to be so long away from my parish, and it has sometimes seemed to me as if He, by laying me by for the very time that I should otherwise have been away, may have meant me to learn that my presence here is not so important after all, and that He can carry on His work by other hands.” This is thoroughly characteristic of the way in which our beloved friend seemed always on the alert to detect his own weak points, as well as to gain from trial its intended blessing. Australia was given up, and several months afterwards he decided to take a short holiday in Rome during part of Lent.

The following letters describe his enjoyment of the place, but at the same time we can detect signs of the penumbra of the dark shadow that was swiftly approaching.

To his eldest son:—

“Rome, March 3rd, 1873.

“So after all my misgivings, doubts, and hesitations, here I am really in Rome, and already profoundly interested in the place. We arrived on Friday evening and put up at a new hotel opposite the Russie, where alone we could find a resting-place; and to-day we have moved into some lodgings at the top of one of the highest houses on the top of the highest hill in Rome. We have been triumphing in the thought of our fresh air, but the conceit of some of us has been a little diminished this morning by being told that there is nothing so unwholesome in Rome, that nothing is so healthy there as a low and crowded situation, and that no Roman would accept our privileges for love or money; but this we keep to ourselves.

“On Saturday K— and I went to St. Peter’s, and my expectations were more than realised by the magnificent area and perfect proportions. There is something most solemnising in the magnitude and vast open space perfectly uninterrupted by any arrangement for worshippers, and a second visit this afternoon has only confirmed my first impressions. I thought to-day that it appeared to have grown since I saw it on Saturday.

“Then we went to the Forum, which I have been feasting upon again to-day. I imagine that the excavations have been extended since you were here, but I doubt whether in the Forum much has been discovered. And really nothing is wanting. But how strange that the villain Phocas, whose edict has led to so much discussion, should be the one whose one column should stand out by itself in the best preservation of them all! But all one’s ideas of human greatness are dwarfed by the Coliseum. What must the place have been when crowded with people! It must have contained all the inhabitants of the city, and a good many over, and must have illustrated St. Paul’s expression ‘so great a cloud of witnesses.’ I suppose that Christian martyrs did not much care for lookers-on, but had their minds wholly absorbed by their God and the wild beasts which were to devour them, but it must have been an awful ordeal to face such a host of enemies, and how inconceivable it is that such thousands could be brought together for the pleasure of seeing their fellow-men torn to pieces! Truly man is a fallen creature, born far above the beasts, but fallen far below them!

“I was greatly entertained by an American gentleman, who said to me that as they had gone so far in America as to give the suffrage to every man, they had better go a little further and give it to all the horses, for intelligent persons might drive them to the poll, which they could not do with ignorant men.”

To his eldest daughter:—

“Rome, March 16th, 1873.

“We have all been greatly interested by your report of the ordination. [190] It seems to me that everything was ordered for us exactly as we could have wished, and if I had sat down to plan it for myself I do not think I could have planned anything more completely to my mind. So blessed be God for the abundance and carefulness of His mercy! How I have thought of our young clergyman to-day! I wonder whether he has been preaching. He has not written much to me, but I cannot be surprised at that when I consider the absorption of his mind. What a delightful birthday for him!

“I am sorry to say I cannot give a very good report of myself. Rome has thoroughly disagreed with me, and the disagreement has brought on so much pain in my back that between the two I have had very little power of enjoyment. Still there has been so much to enjoy that, notwithstanding everything, I have enjoyed a great deal very much indeed. But the thing I should enjoy more than anything in the world would be to get home, and I am very much disposed to turn my steps homeward instead of going on to Naples. But nothing is fixed at present, or even discussed. It is only a floating idea in my mind, and may come to nothing.

“It has been strange to spend a second Sunday in retirement. I was engaged to preach both days, but could not venture on either, and now I should not be surprised if I left Rome without opening my lips in public. How different God’s plans are from ours! My plan was that I should be so very useful, and carry on here the same blessed work the Lord granted at home. But God’s plan was to keep me still and to let me learn quietly by myself. And I really hope He has been teaching me, and that these two Sundays especially have not been without their blessing. I am quite sure that those who teach most have the greatest need of learning the deep things of God and the secret windings of their own hearts.

“I have not told you about Rome, for you know a great deal about it better than I do. The great, grand old ruins stand out as magnificent as ever, speaking witnesses to the failure of the world’s greatness. ‘Broken greatness’ seems written on them all. And modern Popery goes on its way, I should really think, more idolatrous than ever—the most vulgar, tawdry travesty of the simple Christianity of the Catacombs. But I am not going to write a book, so hoping that God has been teaching you at church as I believe He has been teaching me at home, and wishing you every one every possible blessing,

“I remain, etc.,
“E. Hoare.”

Mr. Hoare returned to Tunbridge Wells for Passion Week, and was stricken down by the deadly fever which had taken hold of him in Rome. For several weeks he was desperately ill. Sir William Jenner came down two or three times to see him, and the daily bulletins were looked for by the whole town with the deepest anxiety. A daily prayer-meeting was instituted, and was thronged by those who joined in the most earnest supplications to Almighty God for his restoration. He recovered, being to all appearance simply prayed back to life by his people. The physician before named considered it a most remarkable case, for his patient had lingered too long on the Borderland to make recovery seem possible. In the summer, so soon as he could travel, he was taken away for change, and he did not return until the autumn, nor even then to work.

The following letter from Archbishop Tait was one of very many that poured in upon him at this time, and the Aggregate Clerical Meeting, which he had instituted several years before and of which he was President, presented him with an illuminated address signed by some hundreds of clergy, in which they thanked God for his recovery and welcomed him back to health.

From Archbishop Tait:—

“Stonehouse, St. Peter’s, Thanet.
“June 6th, 1873.

“The Rev. Canon Hoare.

“My dear Mr. Hoare,—Your long and trying illness has made us feel much for you and your family. I trust that now our Heavenly Father is restoring you to health. May He long continue to you and to us the blessing of your preservation in health and usefulness amongst us; and may He in health and sickness give you every support from the Holy Spirit.

“Yours sincerely,
“A. C. Cantuar.”

To one of his daughters:—

“Hampstead, August 13th, 1873.

“You and I have had so little correspondence lately that you must almost forget the sight of my handwriting, and though, I am sorry to say, the want of practice has led to a great disinclination to exert myself or to take any trouble, I really must begin again.

“We are still here, and not at sea, as we proposed to be, for last night it was so stormy that the family in general and your uncle in particular decreed we should not go by ship. I do not think K— is sorry. So now we propose to go by train, which I always declared I would not do. But the pair of sons and daughters is more than any resolutions can withstand, so (D.V.) we go to York to-night and Newcastle to-morrow.

“On Sunday I hope I may hear Gurney preach: when shall I be doing it again myself? It seems sometimes as if I had forgotten how.

“Remember me very particularly to the Parrys. I have often thought of the Bishop’s [193] visits to me when I was ill, and sometimes regret that I did not invite more good ministers to visit me. But I doubt very much whether I was capable of receiving much good. Indeed I am humbled to find even now how little power of receiving I appear to have. I have been talking to people with a view to my own improvement, but I am very stupid. Some things I cannot understand at all, as, e.g., this new doctrine of ‘Perfection.’ I cannot criticise it, for I have not yet discovered what it is or what its advocates really mean. I have been talking to E—, A— G—, and Mc— about it, but I do not know that I understand much more in consequence; and I have been reading a very interesting American biography, but that has not helped me much more. So I begin to think I must be content with the old paths, those blessed paths in which so many saints of God have walked and followed Christ. Let me and my dear ones be found walking there in the new and living way, and we may well indeed be thankful. May nothing ever turn us to the right hand or to the left, but be taking a step forward! For what other purpose has this sickness been sent? Oh, thanks be to His Name!”

“Cromer, October 2nd, 1873.

“I do not suppose I shall reach home till Friday or Saturday. I am not surprised at your feelings about yourself, for we have all had a shake which must leave its loosenings. Besides which we are not going home as usual to full work and happy activity, and it is impossible not to feel the difference. But there is no reason why we should not be returning to a winter of peculiar enjoyment. There is a joy in work, but there is great peace in quiet, and if the Lord grant His presence we may be more happy together than if we were under the full pressure of the ministry. I believe that we shall all be of one mind in the Lord, as we have ever been in former times, and I am looking forward to very great enjoyment.

“It is delightful to me to hear how much God has blessed Mr. Money’s ministry, [195] and most pleasant to find how God has made my absence such a blessing to the people.

“I enclose you Robinson’s letter, as I think you will be interested by it. Certainly he has been a capital curate and friend, and I have to be most truly thankful for his help. The Lord sent him when He foresaw I should need him, and so He will always provide.”

It has been mentioned that, during Canon Hoare’s illness, the whole town was stirred with affectionate anxiety on his behalf. Prayer was offered up for his recovery in the churches and all the Nonconformist places of worship, and the common testimony to his character, in the conversation that was heard in the shop and the street, was that it was not his preaching nor his intellectual powers which appealed to their feelings so much as the sterling integrity and faithful consistency of his Christian life.

Towards the end of November Mr. Hoare preached for the first time after his recovery, and his friends rejoiced to see that few traces remained of his long and alarming illness. His sermon was entitled “The Best Teacher,” and in the course of it the preacher said: “I believe that lately God has been teaching us all. He teaches at different times and in different ways. His teaching is not always the same in form. Sometimes He gives His teaching by the voice of His teachers, and sometimes by their silence; sometimes by giving them power, and sometimes by taking it away. Now I believe that He has taught us all by His blessing on the ministry in this church during the twenty years we have worshipped together, for it was twenty years yesterday since I became incumbent of this parish. I thank God I believe He has taught many of you during that time by my own preaching, and I thank Him with my whole heart for the blessed results which He has given in His mercy. But I am not sure that this last year has not been the most teaching year of the twenty. I am not sure that He has not taught us all more by laying me on one side than He did by permitting me to preach. He has certainly taught us how He answers prayer, in a manner that no preaching could ever have done, and we meet this day with such an encouragement to pray as many of us never had before. But that is not the only lesson that God has been teaching us during the year. I know not how it has been with you, but for my own part I recognise many others which He has deeply impressed on my convictions. I do not mean to say that He has taught me new truths, but that He has made old truths, the grand old truths of the Gospel that I have loved for years, more precious than ever, and has filled my soul with an earnest desire, if it please Him to restore me to my ministry, to preach those truths as I have never done yet.”

After that sermon he never flagged, but steadily rose again in health, and in the years that followed many a one was known to say that, although his preaching had always been clear, powerful, and convincing, yet after his illness it had gained a special characteristic—now he always seemed to speak as one who had come from the Saviour’s presence and had heard His voice.

CHAPTER XIV
BOOKS AND SPEECHES

Canon Hoare never published any large theological work, but whenever any event “was in the air,” or some religious point was brought into special prominence, a small book on the subject was sure to appear, written with his masterful clearness and power, that just served the needed purpose and put into men’s hands the teaching which they sought.

A few of the best-known of these little books are the following: upon the Prayer-Book—“Baptism,” “Doctrine of the Lord’s Supper,” “Absolution and Confession,” “Our Protestant Church,” “Morning and Evening Prayer,” “Articles of the Church of England”; upon the Bible—“Witnesses to Truth,” “Inspiration”; upon Prophecy—“Rome, Turkey, and Jerusalem,” “Palestine, Egypt, and Assyria,” “Egypt and the Prophecies”; upon the Religious Life—“Redemption,” “Sanctification,” “Conformity to the World”; and many others, some of which have had a great circulation.

His papers read at Diocesan Conferences and before large gatherings of clergy at Islington and all over England were models of clear thought and well-expressed ideas; if these could be collected together they would form a valuable handbook upon the most important spiritual and practical subjects.

But although Canon Hoare was widely known by his small books and papers, and by the stream of visitors that attended Trinity Church during their sojourn at Tunbridge Wells, it was as a regular Congress speaker that he was familiar to members of the Church of England at large. His writings were read by the same sort of people who came to hear him preach, people for the most part with religious views like his own; but at Church Congresses all shades of opinion are represented, and although at earlier gatherings of this sort violent partisans tried to put down speakers of the Evangelical party by “exhibiting,” as a witty Dean expressed it, “symptoms of the foot and mouth disease!” yet better feelings gained the day, and soon the calm and fearless speeches of many whose names will readily occur to the reader caused them to receive a welcome even from opponents. Ill-advised attempts were made at first by members of their own party to hinder Evangelical men from attending the Congress, but wiser counsels prevailed, and Canon Hoare was one of those who felt that, unless he and other leaders were willing and able to stand up in defence of their principles on the Congress platform, the days of Evangelical truth were numbered. The sagacity of this view soon became apparent, and it has led to a kindlier feeling between men holding different theological opinions, as well as to a diffusion in unexpected quarters of teaching such as that which men like Canon Hoare were well qualified to give.

The Vicar of Holy Trinity was asked on various occasions to speak at the Devotional Meeting that always closes the Congress week, and in reference to this the present Dean of Norwich once said to the writer, “I always call Canon Hoare the Grand Amen.”

Extracts from family-letters:—

“Fareham, October 12th, 1874.

“At Brighton I was most kindly and comfortably entertained, but I cannot say I enjoyed the Congress. There was an immense attendance, and such a crowd that it was almost more than I could bear. The result was that I heard but a portion of what was said, and with that portion I must confess I was ill satisfied. The Evangelical clergy had to sit hour after hour listening to all kinds of things without the opportunity of saying a word. I was the only one called up on the subject of Church services, though a great number had sent in their cards, and I should think nearly ten Ritualists and High Churchmen were called up one after another. I did not in the least satisfy myself, though, as I had trusted it in the Lord’s hands, I am satisfied that that which I said He gave me, and there I leave it. But the result was very painful, for as the audience did not know of all the cards, it appeared as if I was the only speaker on our side and my poor words the best that could be produced. I am not surprised at those who prefer to go quietly on their way and do the Lord’s work at home. But are we not to fight manfully? Yet how are we to do it if our hands are tied as they were there?”

“Tunbridge Wells, August 6th, 1875.

“I hope you may have a happy Sunday. I propose to preach on the Song of the Redeemed in Rev. v. 9, as the winding-up of my course of sermons on Redemption. My subject is ‘What do they think of it in Heaven?’ and I fear there is a great contrast between their thoughts and ours. If it fills the praises of those who know most about it, surely it ought to fill the hearts of us who are saved through its power!”

“Tunbridge Wells, May 26th, 1876.

“I fear I shall not be home to welcome you on Thursday, but hope to arrive that evening if God prospers me on my long journey to Southport and back. I am sure my paper ought to be very good, if I go such a long way to deliver it! I am thankful to say it is completed, and as good as I know how to make it; so I hope the Lord will accept it and make it useful. [201] I certainly have been producing a great deal lately, but by no means with uniform success. The Lord has not let me feel that I have the power in my own hand, and has sometimes thoroughly humbled me, more especially in my speech for the Jews, which was a failure. But I was encouraged in my sermon about them which I preached last Sunday and which is being printed.”

“Ottery St. Mary, October 7th, 1876.

“I am writing this letter, though I am not sure that I shall not be with you as soon as it is. But I know you will be glad to hear from me if I can reach London in time for the post.

“I rejoice to think the Congress [202] is over, and am thankful also that I went to it. I believe that the paper was accepted of the Lord. It provoked no controversy, and was most kindly spoken of next day by one of the Ritualistic speakers: I had great reason therefore to be thankful. Some of our people did admirably, manifestly helped of the Lord, and I do not think the truth suffered. But we sadly wanted more Evangelicals; the Ritualists put on a number of young men, many of them foolish fellows and poor speakers, but they got more people on their legs than we did.

“Now for a race between my letter and myself; I wonder which will win!”

(Mission), “Manchester, January 30th, 1877.

“You will be thankful to hear that the Lord is prospering us. We have had some desperate weather, and the congregations have of course been much less than they would have been. But you know I am not dependent on numbers, and have sometimes found the richest of blessings amidst a little flock on a stormy night. I hope we had such an one last night. It is almost impossible that the weather could have been rougher, but there was a capital congregation, considering, and profound attention. I believe also that there are many seriously impressed and others already greatly helped in their faith.”

“York, May 29th, 1877.

“I am delighted to hear a good report of you all, and rejoice to think how happy you must be now that the work is finished and the scaffold down. Notwithstanding all hindrances, it is an easier matter to beautify the outside than to reform that which is within. We cannot set the heart right with Portland cement!

“I cannot say much about myself. I hope the Lord may have given His blessing, but I have not had the sense of power as in former days: possibly I have not sought it so much from the Lord; possibly people expect more from me, and are disappointed at what they hear.

“It is curious to find how ‘Rome, Turkey, and Jerusalem’ is read and thought about. I hear of it in all directions, and people express a great interest in it.

“The owner of the enclosed letter was also interested about ‘Inspiration,’ as he remembered the address when originally given, and I promised to send him a copy.”

“Caterham, April 14th, 1878.

“I hope you are enjoying a peaceful Sunday; but I cannot bear to be away from you, for I do not feel very happy about you. I have felt afraid that I was not sufficiently grateful for all your kind care of me, and that I sometimes seemed cross when I ought to have been full of gratitude! But I did not feel poorly enough to justify all the care that was taken of me. I hope I may be all right by the time I come home, and that if I am not I may at all events be in a more thankful and submissive spirit. I think it is a very possible thing that a man living with a party of young people does not always realise what they are feeling, and so does not show that tender sympathy which is the beautiful peculiarity of a mother’s love. But I have often prayed that I may be a mother as well as a father to you all, and, I trust, may be enabled to meet your hearts’ desires more fully than I have ever done yet.

“But, oh! what a wonderful mercy it is that in the recollection of all our defects and failings we may fall back on the finished Atonement! ‘The Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.’ There is a resting-place for sons, for daughters, and, blessed be God, for fathers.”

“King’s Lynn, October 9th, 1878.

“I hope that you have been interested about the Congress, and have read carefully Canon Tristram’s most interesting speech in the Times of Saturday. It is one of the most remarkable addresses I ever met with, and I rejoice to find how well it is reported in the secular papers. Do read it together, if you have not done so already.

“I do not know what to say of my own speech, and am puzzled by the way in which it was received. My own friends were most cordial, but what astonished me most was that — — and — [204a] came after the meeting and thanked me for it. [204b] What it was for which they felt grateful I cannot imagine. I delight to hope that God may have helped them to see His Gospel more plainly than before; but He knows, and He only.”

In the year 1879 there came an earnest request for a Mission Tour in some of the dioceses in India, similar to the one alluded to on a previous page as emanating from Australia. He was anxious to accept the invitation, but his medical adviser in London, Sir William Jenner, absolutely forbade the undertaking, and it had to be given up.

The description of the death of an old and valued servant is very characteristic. The writer well remembers the calm that pervaded the household next morning, and the mingled sorrow at the loss of a faithful friend and yet of thanksgiving at the thought of one of their household being called to the Palace of the King.

“Tunbridge Wells, March 8th, 1880.

“I hope you all enjoyed a happy and peaceful Sunday yesterday, as we did at home, notwithstanding the solemn, but peaceful, event with which ours concluded. F— had passed a bad night and felt poorly in the morning, but she came to prayers as usual. She did not go to church, and H— went to Dr. Marsack for some medicine. During the day she lay on her bed a good deal; but when we went to evening church she was in the kitchen with S—, sitting in her chair, reading her Bible. S— went into the pantry for two or three minutes, and when she returned there was our faithful friend with not a muscle moved or a feature changed, but the spirit gone. Her Bible was open at the text on which I had been preaching in the morning (2 Cor. v. 1, 6); and so, gently and without the slightest struggle, the knowledge by faith was exchanged for that by sight and she entered into the visible presence of her Lord. . . .

“When I came home from Southborough I found her laid out in the little room, looking just the same as usual, with a perfectly peaceful, tranquil appearance, with no more disturbance of expression than a little child shows in its sleep.

“I need not tell you what a sense of solemnity there was last night throughout the house. We have all deeply felt it, but I must say that thankfulness prevails, for all who knew her had felt anxious for her future. How graciously does God deal with His children! and how needless are our anxieties!”

In the Ladies’ Bible Class, when going through Acts xvi., he had urged upon his people the duty of ever looking out for opportunities of speaking for God. “Lydia” was the case in point, and the apostle’s readiness to make a personal appeal was shown to be God’s plan for this woman, who, residing in the very place which St. Paul was not allowed to visit, was yet brought all the way to Philippi to meet God’s messenger there. This will explain some passages in the following letter to his daughters:—

“Scarborough, July 12th, 1880.

“I have been thinking of you unceasingly ever since I left home, and am more and more amazed at my ever having done so. How I could bring myself to it I cannot imagine; but I hope it is for the Lord’s service.

“I have been looking out for ‘Lydia’ all the way, but not very successfully. When I got into the train at Tunbridge Wells there was a nice-looking lady who fixed her eyes on me so steadfastly, as if wishing to speak to me; so I soon opened the way, but I found the poor thing was out of her mind, being taken to London.

“In the next train there was a lady with her servant, very tearful, so as she sat opposite me I took the opportunity of a civil word about the window, but as soon as she could she got away to the other side of the carriage, so there was no opening there. But I am not sure that ‘Lydia’ may not be in this house, for there is a lady staying here, and both she and my hostess are eager for conversation on the great truths of the Gospel.

“I had a pleasant, quiet Sunday. The place is perfectly charming; the house and garden delightful, with the most lovely view of the sea and the opposite hills, so that I do not know how to tear myself away from my bedroom window.

“The church is very nice, but sadly small. . . . There were good congregations, but not a crowd. I preached in the evening, and I certainly could not have desired a better congregation. I hope the Lord was with us, bestowing His blessing.

“I heard in the morning a very good, practical sermon on the causes of restraint in prayer:

“Allowed sin,
“Unbelief,
“Worldliness,
“Business,
“Temper.

“It was all true and profitable, but I should have been more profited if he had helped us to overcome them.”

“Newcastle-on-Tyne, October 4th, 1881.

“As for the Congress, I cannot say I like the thought of it, though I hope the Lord will make use of it and of me in it. I have been thinking of my text last Sunday, ‘Shall your brethren go to war, and shall ye sit here?’ so I am rejoiced to act with my brethren, and I trust the Lord may unite us in His service, and give us not only meekness of wisdom but the wisdom of meekness.”

“Cromer, October 10th, 1881.

“I am rejoiced to hear of your happy visit to that dear home at Canterbury. I cannot say with what thankfulness I think on all the grace which our God and Saviour has shown there, and how delighted I am that you all should have the unspeakable joy of being employed as the Lord’s agents for conveying the glad tidings of life to precious souls.

“I return you Mr. Stock’s letter, as you wish it, though I am more inclined to put it in the fire, for it frightens me. But I believe the Lord was with me on the occasion to which he refers, and there was one very remarkable circumstance about it which he did not know.

“Dr. Bardsley and I had both sent in our cards, and I saw that he was eager to speak. About twenty minutes before the close of the meeting the Bishop turned to me and said that he could just manage to find a place for me. So I told him he had better call Bardsley instead, which he did. So B. spoke, and some other man after him, when the Bishop turned round again and said, ‘I think after all I can find time for you.’ All this made me the last speaker of the day. Off I went, and I believe before the Lord; He seemed to give me the ears and the good-will of the people at the very first sentence. I was enabled to say exactly what I wished, till at length, speaking of toleration, I said, ‘But if men introduce a ritual intended to symbolise Rome—’ when two or three persons cried out ‘No, no.’ But their objection only roused the whole multitude to what seemed like an almost unanimous cheer, which went on so long that at length the bell rang without my being able to finish my sentence, and there the discussion ended. So I lifted up my heart to the Lord and thanked Him for His mercy.

“I sent in my card next day on ‘Reformation Principles,’ but the Bishop of Carlisle, who was chairman, did not call me up.

“On Friday I read my paper. [209] Of course there was no excitement about that, but quite as much cause for thanksgiving, for several persons, amongst them Arch-deacon —, came to me in the evening and thanked me for it as having been a real help to them in their own souls. So I am come away with a thankful heart and a longing desire to spend what time remains as a firm and faithful witness for truth.”

Few speeches at a congress can have aroused more excitement than Canon Hoare’s famous impromptu address at Derby in 1882, and none probably have been so far-reaching in their effect. The enthusiasm aroused in the vast audience was electrical; cheers and shouts of applause interrupted the speaker at every sentence.

The same night it was being sold about the streets of Derby as a separate publication, next day it was in all the papers word for word, and during the twelve months that followed letters came in large numbers from nearly every part of the world, thanking him for his manly and vigorous words, in which he did not merely “hold the fort,” but carried the war into the camp of those who wished to bring our Church back into the dominion of Rome.

Commenting upon it, the Guardian of that date said: “No one, whether agreeing with Canon Hoare or not, could fail to be struck with admiration at the courage and skill with which he grappled his antagonist.”

The speaker who followed allowed himself to utter words which in calmer moments he would never have said; it is hardly possible that one who rose, as he expressed it, “to pour oil upon the troubled waters,” could have otherwise stated that Canon Hoare’s friends would hold up as a very “mark of the beast such a frequent use of the Holy Communion” as Mr. Wood and his friends advocated; and this said to one who always had weekly Communion in his church, and who, when a young man at Richmond, had been the first in his diocese to institute an early celebration!

“Cromer, October 10th, 1882.
(After Church Congress at Derby.)

“I enclose you four letters received by this morning’s post, and now, as that speech to which they refer has manifestly made a great impression, I wish to put on record the Lord’s dealings with me in the matter, for they have tended very greatly to the confirmation of my faith, and, I hope, given me a lift for the remainder of my life.

“When I was first asked to take part at the Congress the Secretary asked me to choose a subject from a list sent to me. I marked three, any one of which I should be prepared to undertake, one being the Liturgy, to which my attention had been directed at the Bible class and preparation for my Lent sermons. Thus God was preparing me then.

“When the list came out I was disappointed that I had a speech and not a paper, and felt the responsibility of my position, as I was the only speaker on the list, and there were four papers to precede me, by Hope, Bickersteth, Wood, and Venables.

“You all know what difficulty I felt in preparation. I did all I could to be prepared, and continually committed it to God, but I felt doubtful all the way through whether all my preparation would be of any value.

“So we went on till the day came. I awoke very early under the sense that I had important work before me, and as I lay still in the dark I was able to cast the whole matter into the hands of the Lord. After breakfast I went to preside at the prayer-meeting, and spoke to them of the Lord’s love for the Church, in Ephesians v. The room was very full, and when we knelt down to pray I was solemnised more than I can tell you by all who prayed praying for me especially: I was the one subject of their prayers.

“I never can forget the prayer of one of them that the Lord would make me His mouthpiece and put His thoughts into my mind. This was very delightful to me, but it made me think something was coming; so I left the morning meeting and went home for a quiet hour before luncheon. I then polished up my weapons, finished off my opening and conclusion, and spread it all out before the Lord, in happy remembrance of the good man’s prayer.

“At length the meeting began. Hope was very bad, but did not give much that I could lay hold on. But when Wood began he at once pronounced our Communion Service to be a meagre deposit of the ‘Use of Sarum,’ and said he did not want to suggest the improvement of our Liturgy, but the adoption as an alternative service of the First Book of Edward VI. I sat listening to him, taking careful notes, and hoped that by the time Venables had done I should be ready. But what was my astonishment when I heard my name called by the Bishop as soon as Wood sat down. I said to him, ‘It is not my turn,’ but he replied, ‘You had better go on.’ I do not know his motive; perhaps it was that he wished Wood answered. So there I was in the face of the vast assembly without a minute’s notice. But was not the Lord with me? and would He not answer the good man’s prayer? So I put down my Prayer-Book, notes and everything—and away! The people gave me a most kind welcome, and, as I have been told since, many dear friends throughout the hall lifted up their hearts in prayer for me. I saw in a moment what I had to say; it was as clear to me as if I had studied it for months: nor had I the slightest difficulty for words, except once when I failed in quoting accurately the thirty-first Article. I was hissed and met with noisy opposition. But that did not matter in the least; the mass of the people was with me, and so was the Lord.

“Mr. Wood had put a weapon in my hand which was irresistible. I was encouraged as I went along with most hearty and enthusiastic cheers, till at length when I had done the people went on cheering as if they never could leave off. Oh, how I thought of the good man’s prayers, and how I realised the privilege of being an instrument in the hand of the Lord! This thought has made me feel quite satisfied since. I should have liked not to have slipped in the Article, and there are many things that have occurred since to me, some that I might have added and some that I might have said better, but I have been satisfied in the thought that the Lord gave me what to say and that I said what He wished me to have said. So I do not fret over the omissions or defects, but accept it with thankfulness from Him.

“I cannot describe the expressions of thankfulness from multitudes of my friends after the meeting, or the deeply solemn feeling at the prayer-meeting next morning, when again I was the principal subject of it, but this time in thankful acknowledgment of the help which the Lord had given.

“Well! I have written you a long letter about my own proceedings, but I would rather say about the Lord’s dealings with me, and that justifies its length. I hope the whole history will lead us all to trust Him more simply than ever to put words into our lips and thoughts into our minds, and so to employ us for His own most sacred service.”

The following is the text of the speech, taken from the Church Congress Report:—

“Your lordship has called upon me before my time; but I am prepared, my lord, to go on if you think it right that I should. At the same time, I may add that I am called upon by surprise, for I expected to have to discuss the suggestions for Liturgical Improvements which it was likely would have been made by the Rev. Mr. Venables. At the same time, however, I am prepared to accept the position, as appointed for me in the providence of God. I consider that this debate is a most important one for the Church of England. I think that the speech of Mr. Wood, to which we have just listened, is one of the most important speeches that I have ever heard delivered at a Church Congress. We used to be told that what was originally called the Tractarian movement, but which has since been called the Ritualistic movement, was an effort of pious and devoted men to rise above our poor Churchmanship, and to bring out in better development the true principles of the Church of England. We always, with that happiness which accompanies a clear conscience, maintained that we were the true representatives of the Church of England. We acted upon its principles, and taught its truth. But still, we have had to bear a certain amount of reproach, and we have not been able to overcome the old prejudices. This day, however, we have been told by Mr. Wood, the President of the English Church Union, that our beautiful English Church Service is ‘meagre’: that there is nothing more meagre than our existing Liturgy; that our Holy Communion Service—in which we have taken so much delight—is a mutilated, an inferior, and a defective Service. [Cries of ‘No, no.’] I say ‘Yes,’ and this great assembly has heard what Mr. Wood has said. We have been told to-day that we are to go back to the Liturgy and to the Communion Office of 1549, instead of accepting that of the year 1552, and finally revised in 1662. And, now, will you just look for one moment at the first Liturgy of Edward the Sixth?

“We were told to-day that it was a falling-off from the use of Sarum. We are therefore, it seems, to look upon the use of Sarum—that old Popish Liturgy—I say that old Popish Liturgy, which existed in the diocese of Salisbury, as the model at which we are to aim. To this use of Sarum the Reformers applied the pruning-knife, and I cannot say that they left much of the Office of Sarum. There were certain very fine passages in it, and they retained them. But they brought out a new Communion Office in 1549. There were, however, certain defects still left.

“But as time went on, and the Reformers saw more and more of the blessed truth of God, they then said that the thing must be thoroughly done, and it was of no use to carry out mere half-measures. So, thank God, they did not stop at the First Book of Edward. I am very much disposed to think that, if Mr. Wood gets it, he won’t stop there either. And now that we have enjoyed the Prayer-Book as the Reformers gave it us for these three centuries past, we are told that we are to hark back again. Of this I am fully persuaded, that the Churchmen of England are not prepared for such retrogression. You must consider what has been said by Mr. Beresford-Hope on this subject; he and I have sparred about this matter before now. Mr. Beresford-Hope knows just as well as I do that there is no such thing as an altar in the Church of England. And I will tell you also what Mr. Wood and his friends know very well. They know as well as I do that if they can but coax us back to those three years—to 1549, to the First Book of Edward—that there they will find an altar. And that is one reason why they wish for it. The Reformers knew very well that an altar was essentially connected with a sacrifice. And they knew this also, that while they were prepared to offer the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, the sacrifice of propitiation was completed for ever. And they believed, further, that the doctrine of the mass was a lying abomination, or rather I would say, a ‘blasphemous fable and dangerous deceit.’ Now, then, my lord, we fully know our ground, and where it is we have to stand. We have, therefore, learned something at this Church Congress. We know where we are. We go home to-day knowing with what a power and with what an intention we have to contend. We know what Mr. Wood has told us. He has told us as plainly as possible that the object is to bring back the Church of England from the Reformed Church of 1552; to stop just a little by the way in the refreshment room of 1549, and then we are to plunge head-foremost right into the use of Sarum. Now, then, my lord, what shall we say to this? Shall we have it? or shall we not? What, I ask, shall we say to this? Shall we stick by the blessed truths that we have received, and for which our Reformers died? Shall we cling to the dear old Office Book, in which we have hundreds and thousands of times poured out our whole hearts before God? Shall we unite heart and soul as witnesses for Christ while we come to His Holy Table, and hold there communion with Him? or shall we begin by half-and-half retrograde measures until we go right back into the arms of Rome? My lord, I say no more; but I wish to thank Mr. Wood for having spoken out so plainly on this subject, and for thus having let us know this day what are the real intentions of the English Church Union.”

CHAPTER XV
BLINDNESS AND SECOND ILLNESS

The annual Confirmation times were looked upon by Canon Hoare as the most important occasions, and the ten or twelve weeks of preparation as a season whose value was simply inestimable.

Large numbers were prepared by him personally every year, and it was beautiful to see the tender individual interest which he showed in every case. Before the day of Confirmation, at the private interview with each, he noted down in a special book his opinion of the case. He was once asked when he made this diagnosis. He replied: “As they walk from the door to the chair beside me, I get a view of their character and disposition; the conversation which I have with them afterwards gives me a further insight, and I hardly ever find the estimate wrong.” Many who read these lines will remember the earnest prayer, and then the fatherly grasp of the hand and loving blessing with which those interviews ended.

All through the weeks and months of preparation the candidates were remembered at the weekly prayer-meeting in the Parish Room, and on the Sunday previous to Confirmation they were commended to the prayers of the congregation and a sermon was specially devoted to the subject. On the day itself there was an early prayer-meeting, to which all candidates came, and afterwards every arrangement was made to keep the newly confirmed free from outside influences that might too soon remove good impressions; the evening was spent, after tea in the Parish Room, in the singing of hymns and listening to various addresses. Every year his interest in the subject was fresh as ever, and at the age of eighty-one his sermon on Confirmation, which was afterwards printed and a copy sent by him to the present Archbishop of Canterbury (and acknowledged by him in one of the following letters), was so remarkable in its power and teaching as to receive a special notice in one of the Archbishop’s recent Charges—an honour most gratifying to the preacher and probably nearly unique.

To one of his daughters:—

“Balachulish, N.B., September 13th, 1883.

“I hope you will enjoy a delightful Sunday at Thun. I do not look forward with much pleasure to ours, for I do not like the Scotch Church services. I was greatly distressed last Sunday at Oban. Oh, how earnest I should be that visitors to Tunbridge Wells should have the pure Gospel of the grace of God! It is grievous to think what many people are condemned to hear! May God make us faithful to His truth!”

“Tunbridge Wells, June 4th, 1885.

“I am getting on very comfortably with Confirmation candidates. The Trinity school-girls are improved. They are excellent in their knowledge, well up in the Catechism, in which they used to be so sadly defective. Of course it is extremely difficult for an old man like me to get into the secrets of their young hearts, but many of them, I believe, are more than in earnest, for I feel sure they are really resting on their Saviour. Poor dears! I hope they will be kept, but they are likely to be terribly exposed to all kinds of religious unsettlement. The Salvation Army is going to have a grand ‘Battle’ next week, and the rank and file is to consist of ‘saved drunkards, liars, swearers, poachers, parsons, sailors, and nailers’!! So we are classed with queer company! Is it of God? or is it strange fire? that is the question. But who can wonder if our young people are perplexed and confused?”

Written at the death-bed of his brother Joseph:—

“Hampstead, January 16th, 1886.

“I could not come home to-day, for I could not leave him in his low estate, though I am not like some of them, in immediate apprehension of any change. I fear there may be still before us deeper depths than we have known yet, unless the Lord mercifully lifts him over them, as He did Miss Courthope. He is generally wandering, but frequently revives in a most curious manner when I speak to him. I firmly believe that minds clouded like his very often have a perception of heavenly things, and most especially of the sweet name of Jesus.

“I went this morning to C.M.S. on the subject of the February Meetings. It was very edifying, but I had to come away very quickly, as I wanted to be back. People were all most kind, so much so that I hardly knew how to bear it.

“Since then I have been to see Bishop Perry, who was very unwell yesterday, I believe from riding home after a tiring day at Islington in a cold hansom-cab when he had a carriage and pair in his stable wanting exercise! Such is mankind. I tell him that I am obliged to knock about in cabs and ’busses because I cannot afford anything better, but he ought not to think of it.

“When we shall be home no one knows. I do not think I can come home for Sunday if things go on as they are now doing, unless I am obliged to do so, and I see nothing to indicate any immediate change. But we are in the Lord’s hands, hour by hour, with eternity full in view and the Lord Jesus almost visible. May we each one abide in His love!”

“Hampstead, January 21st, 1886.

“Joseph at rest in the Lord.”

“Tunbridge Wells, March 5th, 1887.

“I hope you are still prospering and that you have had as beautiful weather as we have had. I consider that the beautiful bright sunshine of our dear old England is to be preferred to that of the South of France, more especially if the latter is accompanied by earthquakes as a variety, and certainly we have all been enjoying it here. Last Sunday was one of the most lovely days I can remember, and I hope it was one in which we enjoyed some sunshine in our souls. All the week too has been bright and happy, though we have had some fogs in the morning—just enough to teach us how God can clear away all that obscures the sunshine of His love. On Wednesday we had a most profitable sermon from Mr. Russell.”

“Marden Hill, Hertford, August 30th, 1887.

“Nothing can be kinder or more affectionate than everybody here. H— and M— are most pleasant, and I would not have missed coming to them here on any account, as I consider that at Cromer every one is in a non-natural condition and here they are in their own home. I wonder whether there is the same difference between myself at home and abroad. I suppose there is, though I do not see it.

“I hope you are enjoying Brittany. You surely did not leave Guernsey on your left as you were crossing. If you did I suppose it was to avoid rocks; and maybe we should all prosper more if we were more careful to avoid temptations as well as to overcome them; and I hope the Lord may so direct the path of every one of us that we may be kept from danger and guided safe into the haven of peace. I have been exceedingly impressed with these words in Jeremiah x.: ‘The way of man is not in himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.’ So my way, and your way, is not in ourselves, and I trust the Lord may direct all our steps for His own glory.”

“St. Bernard’s, Caterham, October 14th, 1887.

“I return Miss T—’s enclosure. Pray tell her that her confidence need not be in the least shaken by the proposed visit to the Old Catholics, for they are thorough Protestants in many respects. They withdrew from the Church of Rome on the decree of Papal Infallibility (I think in the year 1870), under that very remarkable man Dr. Döllinger, and have been excommunicated by it. They call themselves ‘Old Catholics’ to distinguish themselves from the New, or Roman, Catholics, and they claim to hold the Catholic faith as it was before Rome introduced its errors. We ought, therefore, to rejoice at our Bishops taking them in hand.”

To his daughters:—

“York, May 27th, 1888.

“I know not why it is, but my heart is so full for you all that I cannot forbear from writing to tell you. You have been constantly in my thoughts since I left home, and oh, how I have desired that the Lord may give to each one of you every possible happiness! I thank God that I believe He has given us a very happy home, and one that can stand comparison with others; but I long to make it happier still and to do all that a father can do to help each one of you and to promote that loving, joyous spirit which is the sacred privilege of a Christian home. Certainly it has entwined itself very closely round my own heart; and now that I am away I seem to feel it more than ever. May the Lord be with you all, not only while I am with you, but when I am gathered to my own Home with the Lord Jesus!

“I am thankful that I have been prospered, and am quite well and had an easy journey. Everybody has been most kind, and I hope the Lord has accompanied the ministry. The morning sermon was a long way off and not exciting: I felt for the good man, for he seemed discouraged.

“The Evening Service in the Minster was magnificent. There was a grand congregation, and what with the noble building and fine music there was enough to make a profound impression, even if there had been no sermon.

“But I hope they had the Gospel in addition; I certainly desired to give it to them, and they appeared to me very attentive. I do not feel in much heart for speech-making to-day, for I am utterly out of practice. But ‘what have I that I have not received?’ so I must open my mouth to receive my message, and I hope the Lord will give it me.”

“Tunbridge Wells, August 22nd, 1888.

“I rejoice to hear that you are prospering and enjoying Chamounix. I cannot doubt that you have a most pleasant, happy, and loving party, and I shall heartily enjoy a few bright days with you and another look at those lovely mountains. There they stand unchanged, while all their admirers pass by and are gone. What a picture of what is going on in life! There is only One who is not a mere passer-by; but, thanks to God, He is unchangeable, and we need never pass away from Him.

“We had a very comfortable Sunday. I preached in the morning about Jehoshaphat, to my own great interest. But in the afternoon I had a very poor attendance of men, and preached the feeblest of sermons. I hope it may have confounded the mighty, for it certainly was one of the weak things of the world, and contributed nothing to the self-elevation of the preacher.

“I am now off to church to preach on holiness. May God make us partakers of His holiness!”

In the autumn of 1888 his blindness began. The doctors stated that it was due to no illness, but just a sudden failure of power. He could at first see figures and large objects more or less, and detect a placard on a wall, but faces were indiscernible and reading and writing an impossibility. Yet it made no difference in his manner or character, and his life was immediately adjusted to the new state of things. The writer well remembers coming into the Vicarage study one morning, and finding the vigorous old man of seventy-six commencing the task of learning the Bible by heart! “It was so important to have all quotations exact.” This work was continued for some months, but when it was suggested that there would be less labour and more profit in learning the raised type for the blind, the former plan was discontinued, volumes of the latter sort were procured, the characters mastered, and for the seven years remaining the beloved study was resumed under circumstances that would have discouraged most men of his age. Blindness did not stop his work—nothing of the kind; the regular Bible and annual Confirmation classes were continued as before, the weekday and Sunday sermons as regularly prepared and preached. His daughters read to him passages from books bearing upon the subject that he had in hand, and he arranged and classified it in his own mind. Gentlemen and ladies in his congregation gladly undertook to come at stated hours and read to him books of various sorts, and so he kept abreast with all that was going on in the world of literature, and, as was his wont, met it for praise or censure in his sermons.

On Sundays it was touching to see the venerable old man ascending the pulpit, giving out his text, and then preaching with all his old fire and vigour. The accuracy with which he quoted his texts made it hard to believe that the preacher was blind. The same accuracy was remarkable in another way. There were few things in which Canon Hoare took more interest than in helping the younger clergy. All through his career his Greek Testament readings have been sources of great blessing and help. In the last few years of his life, since his blindness, he revived these readings, going rapidly through a book or group of passages dealing with a subject. There are several now in Tunbridge Wells who remember gratefully and lovingly those early half-hours once a week; they can see him in his study-chair, surrounded by six or eight of the junior clergy with pencils and note-books—the mortal eyes sightless, but the eyes of his understanding being opened, and from his lips pouring forth a stream of words almost too rapid to take down, as he sketched forth the scheme, say, of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and then going into the details chapter after chapter, pointing out the notes of exegesis and different readings, and the light thrown by the Revised Version on each.

It was at this time, as the first birthday after his blindness drew near, that several members of his loving congregation subscribed together and purchased a splendid gold repeater watch, striking the hours, quarters, and half-quarters, as a birthday present for their old Vicar. The following letter, written with the aid of the typewriter which he had also learned to use after the loss of his eyesight, shows how much he appreciated this further proof of their affection:—

“Trinity Vicarage, June 5th, 1889.

“My dear Mrs. Perkins,—I hear that you have been the one chosen by your friends to convey to me the beautiful gift which I received this morning, so to you I must send my answer, and ask you to be so very kind as to assure all the dear people who have taken a share in it of the very great pleasure that their gift has given me. It was so kind of you all to think of me, and to mark by a birthday offering your loving interest in my welfare. But, as for your sending me such a beautiful present, I never for one moment thought of such a thing. You have, however, selected a most useful and valuable form for your kindness.

“For many years I have been dependent on a repeater for securing, day by day, the sacred morning hours before breakfast; and many an hour has been secured to the study of God’s most holy Word through the use of an old repeater left to me (as a legacy) by the dear uncle who gave me my title to my first curacy.

“But the old watch, like the old master, has worn out, and I have been put to the greatest inconvenience; so that, if ever I have left home, I have been obliged to carry two watches—one for the day and the other for night.

“But now, by your gift, the difficulty is removed; and, if ever it please God to restore to me the privilege of spending my winter mornings in the study of His Word, I shall find it to be of inestimable value.

“Most heartily, therefore, do I thank all our friends through you, and trust that they may enjoy as happy and sacred morning hours as our Heavenly Father has so often given to me.

“Believe me, my dear Mrs. Perkins,
“Very faithfully yours,
“E. Hoare.”

In 1889 Canon Hoare was laid low by a severe illness which all expected to be the last. His family assembled around him, and his people thought that they never would see him again.

At this time, when all his friends thought that his call had really come, many letters were received at the Vicarage expressing the warmest sympathy and containing assurances of fervent prayers. The Archbishop of Canterbury wrote as follows to the Rev. J. Gurney Hoare, who was at Tunbridge Wells:—

“Lambeth, June 12th, 1889.

“My dear Mr. Hoare,—Pray give my love and the assurance of my loving prayers to your dear father.

“I had your letter this morning at Hereford.

“As some old writer says, it is ‘like the descending of ripe and wholesome fruits from a vigorous and steadfast tree’ when God calls to Him so single-minded and true a servant—all contests over, and charity having triumphed more and more to the end. Tell him, as you think fit, how much I have always felt that he helped and comforted me in my trying place. I have always had his sympathy and genial counsel, and his prayers. And his strength has been consecrated to the last. In what honour he passes to the last peace! May it be wholly ἀνώδυνος, as the old Greek prayers say. Once more you are all sure of our prayers, and of the prayers of how many through Christ who loves him ever.

“Most sincerely yours,
“E. W. Cantuar.”

Again his congregation assembled in daily prayer-meeting, as before; and when it was supposed impossible that he could live out the day the C.M.S. Committee met and poured out their petitions to God, asking that their veteran friend and adviser might yet be spared if it were His will.

The prayer was answered, and once more he rose from the bed of sickness, wonderfully unchanged. Compared with past years, we saw that the outward man was perishing, but we saw also that the inward man was being renewed day by day. Before long he was again in the pulpit, and it was more than three years after this that he preached the sermon upon “Confirmation” to which reference has been already made, as well as one upon the “Agnus Dei,” delivered after the Archbishop of Canterbury’s famous judgment.

To Bishop Perry:—

“Tunbridge Wells, January 10th, 1890.

“My very dear Friend,—I cannot tell you how much I have felt about dear Carus. When we think of his age we cannot be surprised, and when we think of his love, his fidelity, his maintenance of the truth, and his great attractiveness we know not how to part with so valuable and pleasant a companion. But as far as you and I are concerned the parting is not likely to be for very long. As we see one after another of our old friends gathered to their rest, it would be madness in us to forget how near we ourselves may be to the banks of the river, or to lose sight for a single moment of the blessed Hope set before us in Christ Jesus. I trust we may all be kept looking for that blessed Hope and the glorious reunion of the Resurrection morning and of the Coming of the Lord. I must acknowledge that for my own part I find myself better able to realise the prospect of that final reunion than the thought of our gathering before the Throne in the intermediate waiting time; but I am persuaded that both are taught in Scripture, and that when we are no longer entangled in the body we shall see wonderful things in the spiritual world, and when we do how shall we ever praise God enough for His marvellous love in making a perfect atonement for people so unworthy as we are! I don’t know how it is with others, but I find myself there is scarcely any sentence in the Prayer-Book which so expresses my own mind as those words, ‘We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under Thy table’; but, thanks be to God! we depend upon the worthiness of that blessed Saviour by whom every claim of the whole law is more than satisfied. Remember me most affectionately to Mrs. Perry, and believe me

“Your loving and faithful Friend,
“E. Hoare.”

Letter to Bishop Parry after seeing a report in the papers that he was dangerously ill:—

“Dear Edward,—We are all truly sorry to hear that you are not so well. . . . But how can we thank God enough for the unspeakable privilege of knowing that all such matters are safe in the hand of the Lord! I often think of those words of St. Paul, ‘We know that all things work together for good,’ etc. He did not say ‘we think,’ or ‘we hope,’ but ‘we know,’ thereby expressing the full persuasion of his soul in the infinite love and perfect power of our blessed Saviour in combining all things so that they may work together for our good. I delight in the thought that it is our privilege to rest in that full, calm, deliberate persuasion, and that, looking away from everything in ourselves, we may look to Him in peaceful trust, as an eternal object that will not vary with our own variations of thought and feeling. May He keep you in His own right hand, and raise you up if it be His will; and above all, whenever the time of our departure comes, and it must come to us both before very long, may He fulfil present persuasion by giving us an abundant entrance into His everlasting Kingdom.

“Believe me most faithfully yours,
“E. Hoare.”

To Mr. Storr, upon hearing of the wonderful collections for the C.M.S. in Matfield and Brenchley:—

“February 24th.

“Dear Mr. Storr,—I wonder whether there is any information respecting the things of this world given to those who are at rest with their Saviour? If there is ‘joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth,’ may we not believe that there is also joy when the Lord’s work is prospered among His people that are on earth? If it be so, I am sure your dear father’s heart will be gladdened by the good report sent me in your letter. It is delightful to see the permanent results of faithful work such as his was at Brenchley. He is gone, but the light which he lighted is still burning, and I hope will long continue to burn to the glory of God.”

To one of his daughters:—

“Newcastle, July 31st, 1890.

“May the Lord grant you a very happy birthday, and follow it up by the very best of new years! I wonder where we shall all be this time next year; one thing only do I know, i.e. that we shall be safe in the Lord’s hands, so that all will be well. If safe in Him we shall be safe anywhere, whether in Heaven or on earth, whether in the Home above or in some dear old dwelling here. Let the Spirit of God be on the tabernacle and all will be well.

“We are prospering, and hope to return on Tuesday. I have quite given up all thought of Stirling, and am looking forward to home with great pleasure.”

[Written with the aid of a typewriter.]

“Tunbridge Wells, August, 1890.

“What do you think of this? I have been contriving a plan for writing without seeing: I hope it will answer, but as yet I get on very slowly.”

[Also typewritten.]

“Tenchley, October 12th, 1891.

“I am thinking of you very much in your return to our dear old home, and trust the Lord Himself is with you. I do not like the thought of your being alone, but there is a great difference between being alone and being lonely, and lonely we need never be if only we have the companionship of our Father in Heaven, and that I trust you are enjoying.

“We are hoping to return on Thursday, if God permit: I trust it will please Him to grant it.

“Let us all pray that there may not merely be three sisters, but the three sister-graces, Faith, Hope, and Love, abiding together in our happy home.”

“Thoughts on Old Age.—1891.

“Its temptations:—

“1. Indisposition to exertion.—In many cases there is real physical inability. The old muscles are worn out, so that ‘the grasshopper becomes a burden,’ and every movement requires effort. The natural result of this is, we move as little as possible and are glad to have as much as possible done for us. But there is very often a still worse result—namely, that we are apt to leave things undone altogether; we do not like to give in, but when the time comes for action we shrink from the exertion.

“2. Selfishness.—Aged people meet with a great amount of attention; their comfort is a matter of continual thought to many loving hearts. Household arrangements are all made to suit them; young people are exceedingly kind to them; they read to them, write for them, help them in every possible manner, and do all in their power to minister to their happiness and comfort. The result is that the old man is apt to consider himself as much as others.”

In his latter years there was an added joy in visiting the homes of his married sons and daughters.

The circle of interest widened in sympathy with the joys and sorrows of his grandchildren, and it is no small proof of the tenderness and strength of his character that a man of his age, with so much to occupy his mind in public and private things, could find time for letters to the boys and girls of the second generation. The two following letters are instances of this.

To one of his grandsons:—

“Tunbridge Wells, February 7th, 1890.

“Dear Chris.,—I have been thinking of you every day, and praying to our Heavenly Father to make you a good and happy boy.

“I know it is a very sad thing for you to lose Louis, but I have also been thinking what a delightful duty it puts upon you, for now you have your father and mother all to yourself, and are the only boy at home to attend to them and try to make them happy. I think this is a great pleasure and privilege, and I expect to have a nice letter some day from your mother to say that dear Chris. is so good and attentive that he makes the home quite cheerful. But we are such fallen creatures that you cannot do this unless the Lord Himself helps you. So I trust He will do so, and make you a joy to your father and mother.

“Your affectionate Grandfather,
“E. Hoare.”

To one of his granddaughters:—

“Tunbridge Wells, February 24th, 1891.

“Dear Lettice,—I am very glad to hear that you are so happy and prosperous, and I often think what a happy arrangement it has been for your early education. I am sure we ought all to be very grateful to your uncle and aunt for their kindness in making it. How much kindness we meet with in life! I am sure there is kindness for the old, for I am receiving it every day, and I am equally sure there is kindness for the young, for I am constantly meeting with persons who are spending their whole lives in making them happy. But what are we to think of the lovingkindness of the Lord? David says it is better than life, and so I hope you will find it. You have a name that means joy, and I hope the joy may be, not in your name only, but in your heart. For the last two days I have had a great joy in my home, and I shall leave it to you to guess what it is. It is the visit of a lady for whom I feel a great affection. She has sons and daughters who are great friends of mine, so that I wish she had brought some of them with her. You must guess who it can be, and also find David’s words about lovingkindness (Psalm lxiii. 3).

“The loving old Grandfather,
“E. H.”

Extracts from letters to his married daughters:—

“Tunbridge Wells, November 11th, 1890.

“I have thought a great deal of you in your re-settlement at home, and I trust that you have returned for a happy, holy, and useful winter.

“I look back with the greatest pleasure to my pleasant visit when all the boys were at home, and I trust that the same happy, peaceful spirit may be the abiding characteristic of your family.

“. . . I often think of the promise, ‘They shall bring forth fruit in old age,’ and most earnestly do I desire that my old age may be a fruitful season, but I am inclined to regard anything I can do as little more than the gleaning of grapes when the vintage is done. I trust, however, that whatever is left may be diligently used for the glory of my Blessed Saviour.

“Give my dear love to Robert, and also to Chris. and Lettice.

“Your most affectionate Father,
“E. Hoare.”

“Tunbridge Wells, August 29th, 1891.

“I have very much enjoyed your letters, though I have been slow in acknowledging them, for I find typewriting to be both slow work and very tiring to the brain. But I am glad of it, as it makes me sometimes fancy that I am independent. But independence is not the gift for me just now, for I am dependent for everything, and have to be unspeakably thankful for such loving caretakers on whom I may depend.

“Above all, how ought my heart to overflow with gratitude to that loving Father on whom it is my joy to depend for everything! Daughters can do a great deal, and would do more if they could, but He can do everything and does supply all my need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.

“I trust all the dear sons are prospering, and the tutor doing well. I wonder whether we shall meet anywhere this autumn. I do not feel much pluck in me for Norfolk; my home is so comfortable that I am not eager to leave it. But there is an idea in people’s minds that we ought to go out in the autumn, so I suppose I shall go somewhere, though I do not at present know where. I am very thankful for my two visits to the North. They helped me to realise better the great interests for which to be continually in prayer. I was very happy with you and your sons. May our gracious God bless you all!

“Your loving Father,
“E. H.

“Tunbridge Wells, December 27th, 1891.

“ . . . Most heartily do I respond to all your loving wishes for a rich Christmas blessing on our whole party. We have enjoyed a very happy Christmas together. We have had with us E— and his family, and very pleasant have they all been. We have thought continually of the homes of the absent, and many a time both by day and by night has my heart been lifted for you all. I have thought very much of you and all your boys, and cannot doubt that you have had a very merry party. God grant that they may all know the joy of the Lord! I am very sorry to hear of your disappointment. . . . I never forget the advice given me by my grandmother—never to act without seeking the guidance of the Lord, and after acting never to re-open the subject. She would have said that your great mistake is in distressing yourselves now about your decision made two years ago. So as you sought His guidance trust Him to have given it, and push away regrets.

“The Lord be with you all!

“Your loving Father,
“E. H.”

“Tenchley, Limpsfield, October 6th, 1892.

“My typewriter is none the better for its journey, so that I have been unable to write and thank you both for my very happy visit. I most thoroughly enjoyed it, and throughout the whole of my visitation tour there has been nothing on which I look back with more genuine pleasure than I do on those happy days at Chenies. I thought the village lovely. I was greatly pleased with the meeting of Communicants and with the Church Services. I delighted in the children, and am looking forward with the greatest pleasure to their visit; and I greatly enjoyed all my pleasant intercourse with you both, which I valued the more as I have seen less of R— lately than of you, so that I was glad to enjoy his thoughts on many points of interest.

“May the Lord bless you abundantly both in your home and in your parish! With dear love to the children,

“Your most loving Father,
“E. H.”

“Tenchley, Limpsfield, December 28th, 1892.

“We had a very happy day at home, lovely weather, the very perfection of a Christmas Day, and I trust a good deal of sunshine within. I preached to the people on the sacred Name of Jesus, and I gave them what was new to myself, and, if I mistake not, new also to most of them, so we had fresh thoughts on an old subject. What a remarkable feature this is in Scripture! It is full of old truths, but is always bringing them out in newness and freshness to those who will take the trouble to study it.

“Dear love to Robert and the boys.

“Your most loving Father,
“E. H.”

From the Archbishop of Canterbury:—

“Deal Castle, April 13th, 1893.

“To the Rev. Canon Hoare.

“My dear Canon Hoare,—It was very kind and thoughtful of you to send me your two sermons, in which I was sure to take a great interest. I have read them both with much satisfaction. I think the ‘Agnus Dei’ ought to be very useful. It puts that great hymn in its right position, and it shows the fallacy of certain deductions drawn from the fact that there were no legal grounds on which it could be decided that it was impossible for it to be used. I daresay you have noticed that Richard Baxter (not exactly a Ritualist) did not hesitate to make use of that same passage from St. John in his draft Communion Service.

“The sermon on Confirmation I think most serviceable; its instruction most clear, and the remarks on what the Gift is very impressive. I am glad you teach that that beautiful passage in the Epistle to the Ephesians refers to the event recorded in the Acts. And what a motive it supplies, and what a basis for the Christian life!

“Thank you very much; I think no one can read that sermon without feeling that Scripture and its true teaching leaves more and more to us, in spite of all fears of ‘Criticism.’

“Sincerely yours,
“E. Cantuar.”

The following letter was to a lady in the United States who had written gratefully about some of his prophetical books, and asked for guidance on various points, as well as for some larger work on the same subject written by him:—

“Tunbridge Wells, May 29th, 1893.

“To Miss Gray.

“My dear Madam,—I have received your letter with very great interest and thankfulness. How little do we know either the where or the how or the when it may please God to make use of any effort in His service, and how little I thought that my two small books had found their way to the hearts of any of God’s people in America! I am the clergyman of a large parish, and they were printed chiefly for the use of my own parishioners, and God has made use of them in His own way and far beyond my expectations. I am thankful to say that the coming of our blessed Lord is more and more the joy of my heart, as I am persuaded it is the central part of our Christian hope. I trust it has pervaded the whole of my ministry; but I have not published anything to be called a book upon the subject, though fragments have been occasionally printed in our local press. I am sending you the sermons recently printed, though only one refers directly to the Advent of our Lord. I am very glad to hear of your meeting for the Study of the Prophetic Word. At one time we had such meetings here, at which we discussed with great brotherly freedom the bright hope pointed out to us in Prophecy, and I believe I learnt more from those Christian conferences than I have ever done from all the books in my library. I trust the Lord may grant you all a similar blessing, so that when our blessed Saviour returns in His glory you may be able to greet Him with the words: ‘Lo, this is our God; we have waited for Him, and He will save us.’ ‘This is the Lord; we have waited for Him: we will be glad and rejoice in His Salvation.’

“Believe me very faithfully yours,
“E. Hoare.”

To one who was losing her sight:—

“Marden, June 8th, 1893.

“Dearest —,—May the Lord give you a happy birthday to-morrow! You have your heavy trial hanging over you, but I trust that in God’s leading you may have a bright and happy year, and may have a clearer sight of your Heavenly Father’s boundless love than you have yet enjoyed. I trust that we may both have the eyes of our understanding enlightened, that we may know better what is the hope of our calling, and what the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints. It is my unceasing prayer that I may see these things clearer and clearer. And I am sure that, if He manifest Himself more clearly to my soul, I shall be more than repaid for the failure of my earthly vision. Your case is different to mine, for you have every hope of complete restoration of sight. But we are one in the desire for heavenly light, and I trust the Lord may give it to you abundantly through the new year, and that I too may enjoy a share.”

Extract from a letter to one of his married daughters:—

“Tunbridge Wells, August 3rd, 1893.

“We thank Him also very heartily for the happy week spent with you. It was absolutely impossible that greater care and kindness should have been shown to the old man, and I wish you to know how successful you were in giving me a comfortable, pleasant, and happy week, so that I was well repaid for the effort of the two long journeys, and shall ever retain a happy memory of that pleasant visit.

“I was very glad to see as much as I did of the three dear sons, and felt exceedingly interested for them all, as I could see in each one that he had a special claim on our loving and earnest prayers.

“It was also a great gratification to me to make the acquaintance of your future daughter. Oh, how I hope that the voice of rejoicing and salvation will be in their ‘tabernacle’! With dear love to them all, to the two boys arriving from school, and above all to yourselves at the head of such a family,

“Your most loving Father,
“E. Hoare.”

The autumn of 1893 was remarkable for the number of visits which Mr. Hoare paid among relatives in Norfolk and elsewhere. He spoke of it as one of the pleasantest holidays that he had ever spent.

Earlham, his mother’s old home, a name so familiar to many through Mr. Hare’s recent volumes on the Gurney family, was revisited, and he delighted in pointing out places in the house that reminded him of childish romps and adventures. A week was spent at Cromer, where, as usual, a great gathering of the clans took place. Here he met his beloved sister-in-law Lady Parry, and, at the house of his favourite cousin, Lady Buxton, he gave a Bible-reading in her spacious drawing-room to a gathering of some fifty or sixty friends and relatives.

An eye-witness has described this impressive scene. The old man, blind, but mighty in the Scriptures, took for his subject the prayers for “teaching” contained in the 119th Psalm, and those who listened felt that he had been taught of God, and that another prayer in the same Psalm had been answered in his case: God had opened his eyes and permitted him to see wondrous things in His law.

The Sunday following he preached in the grand old church at Cromer. Many remember that occasion; and when the writer paid a visit to that place a year later, he met an old man who spoke of this sermon with enthusiasm, and said that he thought it one of the best that he had ever heard from the aged preacher’s lips.

No less than seven homes of his children and relatives were visited by him at this time, and it was from one of them, towards the close of this pleasant holiday, that the following letter to one of his daughters was written:—

“Aylsham, September 21st, 1893.

“I am very glad to hear of your prosperous settlement at Lynton. It is the place where your dear mother and I spent our first Sunday after our marriage, and I preached in the church, to the great satisfaction of the Vicar, who, I think, was Mr. Pears, afterwards Master of Repton: you appear to have gone to the other church. . . . Magee’s sermons have been very interesting, though I doubt whether they would meet the wants of those who are hungering and thirsting for life; they aim too much at intellectual brilliancy, and it is not by excellency of speech that souls are won.

“We came yesterday to this beautiful home. Certainly the lines are fallen unto them in very pleasant places, and I trust they have a goodly heritage in many souls won to their Saviour. But they have their difficulties, and who has not? As long as human nature is what it is, we shall find them everywhere, though different in different places.”

The following letter illustrates the affectionate feelings between the pastor and his people so manifest in this parish:—

“The Vicarage, December 13th, 1893.

“My dearly beloved Friends, the Members of our Communicants’ Union, and other Communicants in our Church,—

“I have been looking forward with the greatest possible pleasure to the prospect of our Advent gathering arranged for to-morrow, but it has pleased our Heavenly Father to take from me all hope of being present.

“I have greatly enjoyed those gatherings on former occasions, when it has pleased God to manifest Himself and His own grace in a peculiar manner to our souls. They have also been a source of especial pleasure, as they have given an opportunity for that loving, friendly intercourse which is so delightful amongst Christian friends, and so difficult of attainment in large parishes and large congregations.

“I cannot be with you to-morrow in bodily presence, but may I not thankfully adopt the first part of those words of St. Paul in Col. ii. 5–7, ‘For though I be absent in the flesh, yet am I with you in the spirit, joying and beholding your order, and the steadfastness of your faith in Christ’? and may we not all accept this exhortation in the latter part, ‘As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in Him: rooted and built up in Him, and stablished in the faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with thanksgiving’?

“You observe he does not address us as persons for the first time seeking to know Christ, but as those who have received Him, and are permitted to walk, or spend their lives, in union with Him. If this be the case with us, how should our thanksgivings abound in every possible effort for His glory!

“With much affection, and many prayers,

“From your faithful Friend and Vicar,
“E. Hoare.”

It was at this time, when his bodily health was so feeble, his step slow and head bowed, that a visitor who had never heard him preach came to Trinity Church.

Knowing his reputation, the stranger had great expectations, but at first sight his heart fell within him; as he afterwards acknowledged, “I could not believe that old man in the pew was going to preach, but he got up into the pulpit with some difficulty, and then, it was the power of God!”

A clergyman friend who had known him intimately for forty years said of the aged preacher that “his ministry had grown in power up to the very end.” The chief cause of this was doubtless the life of prayer in which he moved and had his being. All who knew him were aware of this, and certainly he who has been permitted to peruse the sacred pages of his journal can no longer feel surprised at the marvellous success which attended that prayer-steeped ministry.

While upon this subject it is worthy of record that he often told those whom he wanted to help in their preaching that he prayed over his sermons more even than he prepared them, and the latter part took several hours of his time. When blindness came upon him, and others had to read for him and take down his thoughts for the preparation of his sermons, it was his custom to stand up by his study table and say: “Here is my mind, Lord; take it and use it. Thou knowest who will be there; give me the right thoughts and words, that I may speak as Thy messenger, for Christ’s sake!” And this prayer too was answered.

The following letters, written in the last few months of his life, show the clearness of his mind and width of his sympathy up to the end.

To the Rev. C. H. Dearsly, who asks, “How far is it Scriptural that female evangelists should address large mixed assemblies—or men only?”

“January 19th, 1894.

“Mrs. Fry used to draw a wide distinction between ‘prophesying,’ as in Acts ii. 17, and ‘teaching,’ as in 1 Tim. ii. 12, as she believed the former to be an appeal called forth in a special manner by the Holy Spirit, and so she justified her own ministry. I have often thought that there is some truth in her distinction, and I have never felt able to put a hindrance in the way of what may possibly be the movement of the Holy Spirit; so I have thought it safer to be passive in the matter, and not to forbid even though I have felt unable to support.”

To the late Dean of Canterbury on the death of his wife:—

“My dear Dean,—I trust the Lord is with you in your great trial, and will be with you unto the end. I believe that no one has the least idea of what the trial is, until they are called to pass through it. Its depth is learned only by experience. There were two lessons taught me when it pleased my Heavenly Father to send it to me. I never had any idea of the magnitude of the trial, and what it was to lose one who had been for so many years a wise counsellor and a most loving wife and mother. But I never knew the extent to which a Heavenly Father could supply all my need ‘according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.’ I look back upon the thirty years that have elapsed since my great bereavement, and am utterly unable to count up the tokens of His love and tender thoughtfulness during the whole of that period. And so, my dear friend, I am persuaded that you may trust Him entirely. You may trust Him for your eternity; you may trust Him also for the short remainder of your pilgrimage upon earth. You may trust Him to do well for yourself and your daughters. You may trust Him as your faithful Friend and your most wise Counsellor; and so trusting you will never be disappointed, but He will be both with you and yours continually, guiding you with His counsel, and afterward receiving you to glory. Remember me very particularly to your daughters.

“Most faithfully yours,
“E. Hoare.”

To the Rev. H. E. Williamson, Hon. Sec. of the West Kent C.M.S. Union:—

“Tunbridge Wells, April 11th, 1894.

“Dear Williamson,—I am exceedingly sorry to be quite unable to attend the Union of Unions to-morrow at Canterbury. I have greatly enjoyed the meetings of our own Union in former times, and firmly believe that we have been favoured with the presence of that loving Redeemer whose Name we desire to make known throughout the world. I should also have greatly enjoyed the meeting with our dear brethren of East Kent under the presidency of our beloved Dean, in his noble Cathedral; but I cannot venture upon the undertaking, and must look forward to the gathering of that more perfect Union which I hope is shortly to take place, at the Coming of our Lord and Saviour. Remember me to all the dear brethren, and believe me to be very faithfully yours,

“E. Hoare.”