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

by Edward Hoare

NOTES OF CONFIRMATION LECTURES.

These notes are intended to assist Candidates in preparing for the Classes. Each of the Chapters mentioned contains a text on the subject of the Lecture.

Lecture I.—The Sinfulness of Man.

Man is sinful.

,, 1. In nature: Psalm li.; Rom. viii.

,, 2. In heart: Matt. xv.; Jer. xvii.

,, 3. In thought: Gen. vi.

,, 4. In word: James iii.

,, 5. In act: Rom. iii.

,, 6. Under God’s wrath: Eph. ii.

Therefore requires two things, viz. Forgiveness of Sin and Change of Heart.

Lecture II.—Forgiveness of Sin.

1. The blessing of it: Psalm xxxii.

2. Examples of it: Mark ii.; Luke vii.; Luke xviii.

3. Given us because our sins were laid on the Lord Jesus Christ as our substitute: Isa. liii.; 2 Cor. v.; Gal. iii.; Eph. i.; 1 Peter ii.

Lecture III.—Change of Heart.

1. Necessary: John iii.

2. Compared to Birth: John iii.

,, Resurrection: Eph. ii.

,, Creation: Eph. ii.; 2 Cor. v.

3. Wrought by God the Holy Spirit: John i.; John iii.; Ezek. xxxvi.

4. Prayer for it: Psalm li.

Lecture IV.—First Promise made in Baptism.
Renunciation.

We promise to renounce three things.

1. The devil: Gen. iii.; John viii.; 1 Peter v.; 1 John iii.

2. The world: Rom. xii.; 1 John ii.; Psalm xvii.

3. The flesh: Rom. viii.; Gal. v.

Lecture V.—Second Promise made in Baptism.
Faith.

We promise to believe in the Lord Jesus.

1. The three articles of Christian faith: Catechism.

2. Examples of faith: Gen. xv.; Rom. iv.; Matt. viii.; Matt. xv.; Luke i.; Luke vii.

3. Salvation given through faith: John iii.; Acts viii.; Acts xvi.; Eph. ii.

Lecture VI.—Third Promise made in Baptism.
Obedience.

We promise to obey the Commandments.

We should obey them In both their parts: Matt, xxii., and Church Catechism.

,, From the heart: Deut. xi.; Rom. vi.; Eph. vi.

,, With delight: Psalm xl.; Psalm cxix.

,, In all things: Josh. xxii.; Gen. vi.

,, From love: John xiv.; Rom. xiii.; 2 Cor. v.

Lecture VII.—Prayer.

Promises to prayer: Luke xi.; John xiv.; John xvi.

Prayer should be From the heart: Matt. xv.

,, Earnest: James v.

,, Persevering: Luke xviii.; Eph. vi.

,, In humility: Luke xviii.

,, In faith: Matt. xxi.; James i.

,, In the name of Jesus: John xiv.

Lecture VIII.—The Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.

Was appointed by the Lord Himself: Matt. xxvi.; 1 Cor. xi.

Is an act of obedience: Mark xiv.; Luke xxii.

Is a sign, or emblem: 1 Cor. xi.

Is an act of loving remembrance: 1 Cor. xi.

Is a means of feeding on the Lord Jesus: 1 Cor. x.

Is an opportunity of intercourse with the Lord; Luke xxiv.

Is a means of fellowship with each other: 1 Cor. x.

Is a help to joy: Acts ii.

Lecture IX.—On receiving the Lord’s Supper unworthily.

Danger of receiving it unworthily: 1 Cor. xi. “Damnation” here means “chastening”: ver. 32.

To receive it unworthily is to receive it—

Without repentance, without faith, without seriousness, without love: 1 Cor. xi.

You may be young Christians, but not come unworthily: Matt. xxvi.; Acts ii.

You may be unworthy to come, but not come unworthily: Luke vii.; Luke xv.

Lecture X.—Confirmation Service.

The laying on of hands: Acts viii.; Acts xix.; Heb. vi.

The blessing to be expected: Acts viii.; Acts xix.

Decision for God: Isa. xliv.

The prayers in Confirmation Service.

For the Holy Spirit.

For strength.

For defence.

For perseverance.

For growth in grace.

CHAPTER XVI
REMINISCENCES

There are numerous anecdotes and incidents connected with Canon Hoare’s lengthened ministry at Tunbridge Wells, which illustrate his many-sided character in a remarkable way. A few of these selected from the great stock of reminiscence in the minds of his people may be of interest to the reader.

* * * * *

On one occasion banns of marriage were put up in Trinity Church between a workman recently come to the town and a young woman whose widowed mother lived in the parish of Holy Trinity.

When the banns had been twice called an anonymous letter was received by the Vicar, which stated that the man was already married. Careful inquiry having proved that this was true, and that his wife and family were living in another town, the Vicar made up his mind to punish the delinquent in a novel way. The couple whose banns had been called were sent for, and Canon Hoare told the girl the whole story in her false lover’s presence. It was received with indignant incredulity, but the proofs were unanswerable. Turning upon her companion, she sobbed out, “James, James, I never believed you could have done this.” The man tried to brazen it out, and laughingly said, “Well, I suppose we need not have the banns published again?” “Indeed they shall be read again,” was the Vicar’s reply.

By this time the man was getting uncomfortable under the piercing eye that was fixed upon him, and he said, “Well, come along, Polly; it’s time for us to be going.” “Indeed it is time for you to be going,” said the Vicar, “and you had better be sharp about it too, but Polly shall not go with you.” With these words he pointed to the door, towards which the offender made with remarkable rapidity. When he was gone Mr. Hoare turned to the girl, and, taking her out on the other side of the house from that by which the man had left, bid her go home with all speed.

Next Sunday morning in the vestry Canon Hoare called the clerk aside and gave him some directions; then, having said to the curates “I’ll read the banns to-day,” he took that part of the service in which they occur. Having finished the second lesson, it was observed that in an unusually loud voice and with great distinctness he read out: “I publish the banns of marriage between James —, bachelor, and Mary Ann —, spinster, both of this parish. These are for the third time of asking. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in holy matrimony, ye are to declare it.” At this moment the whole congregation were electrified by a loud voice at the end of the church calling out, “I forbid the banns of James — and Mary Ann —!” “Well, come into the vestry after service and state your reasons,” was the reply.

The news fled like wild-fire over the parish, and the man got so unmercifully (yet deservedly) jeered and hooted by his fellow-workmen that he had to fly from the town. It may be added, as a curious and significant fact, that it was not the immorality of the proceeding which aroused this feeling, but “Jim — has let the parson do him out of three and sixpence, for he paid for the banns, but couldn’t get tied!”

* * * * *

Another anecdote which has got into print somewhat incorrectly is the following. The parish clerk was one day in attendance at a funeral in Holy Trinity Cemetery when he noticed a gentleman walking about apparently looking for something. He accosted him, and asked if he could help him in any way. The other replied, in a very cheery and brisk way: “Yes, you can; in fact I am looking for a nice sunny place for my grave. I am going to die soon, the doctors tell me, and I want to get a pleasant place to be buried in.” The clerk was somewhat astounded at the tone and manner of the visitor, but suggested various sites. One was soon selected, and in the same cheerful way the gentleman went on, striking the ground as he spoke: “Capital, just the place; here it shall be; I shall be put in here, and that will be the end of me.” The clerk responded quietly, “Are you quite sure of that, sir? for I am not.” “Yes, quite sure,” was the answer, and then a discussion ensued between the two; when it had lasted a few minutes the official said, “Well, sir, I may not be able to convince you that you are wrong, but I know my Vicar could.” “Oh, I want none of your parsons,” said the visitor; “but who is your Vicar?” “The Reverend Edward Hoare, sir.” “Hoare, Edward Hoare—did he come from Hampstead?” “Yes, sir, I believe he did.” “How astonishing!” muttered the gentleman, and then speaking aloud, “Why, he and I were friends when we were boys!” Having asked the way to the vicarage that he might call upon him, the visitor went his way.

The meeting between the two old boyish acquaintances was very interesting, but when the gentleman stated the circumstance of his meeting with the clerk, Mr. Hoare replied, “You have made arrangements about your body; have you been as diligent about your soul?” It soon came out that, brought up, like his old friend, as a Quaker, but without his religious advantages, he had drifted into open scepticism. Now, however, the loving, earnest words that he heard made a great impression, and he begged Mr. Hoare to come and visit him.

Several weeks passed by, and one day the clerk received a message from his Vicar, “There will be an adult baptism in the service to-morrow.” His feelings can be imagined when he saw quietly standing by the font the gentleman whom he had seen in the cemetery! the defiant, cheery manner gone, but instead of that a peaceful, happy look upon his face. The illness soon progressed, but his friend of olden days visited him continually up to the end, and had the joy of knowing that he died resting happily upon his Saviour. In his will he bequeathed to Mr. Hoare the valuable proof copy of Landseer’s picture “Saved,” as a significant memento of what he had been permitted to do for his old friend.

* * * * *

The writer once heard it remarked of a certain clergyman that his many curates were like so many sentinels posted over the country to warn people of the danger of approaching him! The exact reverse was the case with Canon Hoare: if any one wished to get an enthusiastic description of the Vicar, they had only to go to one of his past or present curates. He was “a hero to his valets”: so considerate and thoughtful of their wants and circumstances, and yet so vigilant about their work, knowing exactly how it was done, and never failing to notice an omission, yet doing it all so kindly. The quarter’s cheque was always enclosed in an envelope, with a slip of paper on which were written words like these, “With many thanks for all your invaluable help.”

This may be a trifling thing, but it means a great deal. Canon Hoare was like a father to his curates, and was beloved by them; he never lost an opportunity of putting them forward, and if need be of standing up in their defence. There are some who remember well an incident at a general meeting of subscribers to the hospital many years ago. Some one present had spoken very wrongly and impertinently of one of the curates, making suggestions of evil in his remarks.

At the close of the speeches that followed, the chairman got up. He was watched closely as he slowly took off his overcoat, and with great deliberation folded it up and placed it on the back of his chair. The room was very still as, drawing himself to his full height and looking keenly round the room, he fixed his gaze upon the former speaker, and gave him in words the most terrible castigation that the unfortunate individual ever received in his life. It was well administered, and equally well deserved.

The fact that in all parochial work he was leader, not director—saying “Come” instead of “Go”—was one of the causes of his influence with his curates. It is related that at some wedding in the parish church, when the bridegroom, a stranger to the place, was paying the fees in the vestry, he made the remark, “I think the man who does the work ought to get the pay.” This greatly tickled the two curates present, who could not help laughing at the idea of their Vicar seated in his arm-chair while they laboured in the parish, and simultaneously both exclaimed, “The Vicar does more than both of us put together!”

* * * * *

The simplicity of the services at Holy Trinity have been already noticed. The preacher wore the black gown, not that he had any objection to the surplice in the pulpit, as he used that dress without hesitation in other churches, but because he felt that he was too old to make changes. “I knew many of the old Evangelical Fathers,” he used to say; “I preached Charles Simeon’s funeral sermon in his own church at Cambridge; so that I feel as if I were connected with them, and I will keep up the old gown which I have been used to all my life.”

But although this seemed but a trifle to him, he never ceased to express his disapproval of what are commonly called “musical services.” On one occasion, at some conference or meeting of clergy, he followed the reader of a paper who had advocated the introduction of an intoned service, and commenced his reply with these words: “For the discussion of this subject I possess the important qualification of being an unmusical man!” He then continued in the same strain, and impressed this point upon the clergy, that they had to deal with as many unmusical people as musical in their congregations. All could speak, but only a limited number could sing; therefore, by arranging a service for the musical, they really closed the lips of those who were not so. At another time, also in public, he said: “The proper use of music is in praise and thanksgiving. People are so eager in these days to introduce as much music as possible that they have applied it to prayer, the reading of Scripture, and even to the Creed. All this I believe to be a mistake. We delight in thorough congregational singing, but the essence of prayer is to be perfectly natural, to realise that we are speaking to God, and forget all beside. Who can imagine the poor publican waiting to hear the note of the organ, or the trumpet, before he smote upon his breast and said, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner!’”

* * * * *

As a chairman Canon Hoare was unequalled. His kindness to opponents and his fairness in stating their case disarmed prejudice and won their approbation. A barrister who had been contending vigorously against some project which Canon Hoare was anxious to advance said at the close of a meeting in which he was taking part: “I have no more to say. Mr. Hoare has handled his brief ably, and I retire from my former opposition.”

Some now in Tunbridge Wells will remember a meeting of publicans who had been invited by the Vicar to come to the Parish Room and discuss in a friendly way the Bill for the Sunday closing of public-houses. They proved an unpleasant audience, and often indulged in bitter and insolent observations, all of which he took in the most gentle Christian spirit. At last one fellow shouted out: “You clergy are the biggest Sabbath-breakers going; you are working hard all Sunday, and why shouldn’t we?” “No, no,” answered the chairman with a beautiful smile, “what we do on Sunday is not work; it’s happy rest from first to last.” A Nonconformist who was present remarked afterwards to the writer that he would never forget that look nor those words as long as he lived.

* * * * *

In questions relating to the interests of the town or of the country at large he was always to the front, gauging public opinion and leading it in the right direction. In actual politics he took no part until the Home Rule question was brought to the front by Mr. Gladstone; then he lectured in the Great Hall against it, and more than once spoke in public on the same topic. Again, when in 1885 the Liberation Society announced a lecture by Mr. Guinness Rogers, and the Great Hall was filled with a noisy, excited audience, at the close of the lecture Canon Hoare ascended the platform; and though at first his words could scarcely be heard in the tumult of cheers and hootings, yet his manliness and skill in debate soon gained way for him, and though the lecturer and chairman both made insulting remarks, he so entirely turned the tables upon them that, when the Liberationist motion was put to the meeting, it was rejected by a majority, and the whole thing collapsed ignominiously.

* * * * *

Many years previous to the event just narrated, when the Volunteer movement was making itself felt throughout the country, a large meeting was held in Tunbridge Wells to consider the question of establishing a Volunteer Corps. The chairman, a local magistrate, threw cold water on the proposal by reminding them that all their strength was needed for foreign service.

Mr. Hoare then got up and said that he entirely disagreed with the chairman; proceeding in a very vigorous speech to show the horrors of a foreign invasion, and the duty of every true Englishman to defend his country, he concluded by declaring that he hoped the first invader who landed on the shores of Kent might be shot by a Tunbridge Wells Volunteer! The speaker was well supported by the Rev. B. F. Smith, then Vicar of Rusthall (now Archdeacon of Maidstone).

A well-known medical man in the town then got up and said: “I came to the meeting in a doubtful state of mind, and though my courage failed under the depressing remarks of the chairman, it has now completely revived under the bold leadership of Captain Hoare and Lieutenant Smith!” The motion was carried by acclamation.

* * * * *

The following anecdote has reference to the extraordinary influence which he wielded over the town of Tunbridge Wells at large. His strong religious character may be said to have moulded the place. Two gentlemen were conversing at Sevenoaks Station, just before the train left the platform. One was heard to say to the other, “How is it that you have no theatre at Tunbridge Wells? A large town like that should have a theatre.” “Oh,” responded his companion, “it would never pay. Tunbridge Wells is too religious a place for a theatre.”

* * * * *

Yet this man, when he came first as Vicar of Holy Trinity, met with much discouragement. The District Visitors came in a body and tendered their resignations, and the first remarks which he overheard about his sermons as he passed a group of parishioners at night on his way home from church were, “Oh, what a dreary sermon!” “Yes, and I thought it would never end!” It is hard for us now to believe this possible, and still harder perhaps to remember that even in late years, after all his services, two of the Evangelical newspapers used to write suspiciously of him,—one sneering at “the three Canons” Ryle, Garbett, and Hoare as “Neo-Evangelicals”; the other in a flaring leader actually calling him and the writer of these lines (who was proud to be in such company) “traitors to the Church of England”! Both these journals are now in different hands, but it is a humiliating thought that one who had done so much for Evangelical truth should have been thus treated by those who professed to aid its progress. It has often been noticed that a lofty mountain seems nothing very remarkable when you stand at its base, but as the traveller departs and it recedes from sight, it towers above the lesser peaks and almost seems to stand alone. So the character of a truly great man, although valued, cannot be measured during his life; it is as the years pass by that we see how much higher he was than all his fellows.

CHAPTER XVII
PROMOTION

During the last year of his life it was evident to all that “old Mr. Valiant-for-truth” as some one had aptly named him, was growing more feeble in body, and it was apparent that the end of his faithful warfare could not be far distant.

Some thought that he ought to resign and leave the parish in younger hands, but it was more generally felt that the grief of leaving his work would be too much for him, and many believed that he would be allowed to die in harness: and so it was.

At the Easter Vestry he spoke feelingly of his approaching end and his desire for a suitable successor, and when he thanked his hearers for what he described as their toleration of the failings of an old man who was doing all that his strength would allow, all present were visibly affected.

The next week he went for a few days to Eastbourne, and thence dictated the following letters. How descriptive were their closing words of the continual attitude of our beloved friend’s mind!

To one of his daughters:—

“Eastbourne, April 18th, 1894.

“We have had a comfortable night in our very comfortable quarters; I think you did indeed do well for us. I cannot imagine anything that would have suited us better.

“The day seems most beautiful, the sun shining brightly; those we love most hearty in their welcome, and everything cheerful all around us, so that I hope we may go home at the end of our week refreshed and invigorated for any work that the Lord may have in store for us. But at present our work consists in idleness, and I propose to devote myself to it with much diligence!

“All whom I have seen recommend a bath-chair, and I should not be surprised if I were to follow their advice before I go home, but I little know what is in store for me. Only let me enjoy the lovingkindness of my Heavenly Father, and we may safely leave the rest in His loving hand.”

To a friend who was in ill-health:—

“Eastbourne, April 21st, 1894.

“I can heartily sympathise with you in the pain of giving up one after another the different objects in which you have been interested, and I can feel for you the more as I have been lately passing through the same process.

“I am obliged to hand over to others a great deal of the work in which I used to take delight. But I believe it is good for us, and that the ties to earth are being loosened in order that we may be the more ready for the Lord’s summons when He shall call us to depart and to be with Christ.

“So let us think more of what we are likely to find in Heaven than of the pain of parting with those things which have been a joy to us upon earth. . . .

“E. Hoare.”

On Trinity Sunday, May 20th, he preached for the last time. The occasion was the anniversary of the British and Foreign Bible Society, of which, as we have seen, he was ever a staunch friend. At the close of the sermon he seemed to be rather exhausted, and his faithful parish clerk (who had served under him all through his ministry in Tunbridge Wells) hastened up the steps and helped him down. He never again entered that church where for forty-one years he had faithfully declared all the counsel of God. Of that ministry it may be truly said that its “record is on high.” Few men have had so many opportunities of preaching the Gospel, and few have used them as he did.

After this there was a marked decline in strength. He knew that the tabernacle was being taken down, and made preparations accordingly. Two of his brother-clergy were asked by him to pay a pastoral visit weekly, and they will always thank God for this privilege; it was beautiful to see the calm, steady trust—“I know whom I have believed.” On these occasions they received more than they gave, and as some passage of help or comfort was dwelt upon the old saint of God would himself go on, and bring out some new light upon the passage, for to the very last he was “mighty in the Scriptures.”

On St. Peter’s Day, a week before his death, when the Sunday School Teachers’ Association met as usual for their annual gathering in his garden, he saw them for a few minutes, and then from his room sent out this touching message: “Earthly pastors pass away, but remember Him of whom it is said, ‘He, because He abideth ever, hath His priesthood unchangeable.’” Surely this public testimony was a fitting sequel to his life’s ministry!

A few weeks of weariness, and then the end came. The usual “Good-night” was said the night before, and early in the morning of July 7th, as he slept peacefully, the brave and faithful spirit passed away.

When a man’s whole career has been given to God, we are not careful to ask for his last words, yet his were characteristic of the humble but unwavering trust that filled his heart. Replying to some inquiry he said, “I am perfectly at rest on every point.”

God had bestowed many privileges and honours upon His servant during his life; the greatest of all—even to be with Him—He granted during that quiet slumber, for “so He giveth unto His beloved in their sleep.”

CHAPTER XVIII
TRIBUTES

It is impossible to describe the feeling exhibited in Tunbridge Wells when it was known that Canon Hoare had passed away, and on the day of the funeral the town witnessed such a display of universal sorrow and respect as it had never seen before. To enumerate even the deputations from different parts of England and to describe the component parts of the huge procession of mourners would occupy pages of this book.

It is enough to say that everything which could be done by the Mayor and Corporation and inhabitants of the town to declare their loss and emphasise their respect was done. More than one Bishop and over a hundred clergy walked in the ranks of the mourners.

All testified as with one voice: “A prince and a great man is fallen this day in Israel.”

His mortal remains were laid beside those of his beloved wife, and he who in those thirty-one years of bereavement used sometimes to say, “In spirit we have never been parted,” was now in spirit reunited to her, and that for ever.

* * * * *

A little book published at this time [268] contains in full all that was said and done with reference to him who had passed away. There are to be found in it the funeral sermons preached all over the town, in church and chapel alike, as well as sketches of his character and career in their special bearing upon the town, whose particular reputation had been so much formed by him. It is a touching tribute of affection and respect, and is well worthy of perusal.

Hundreds of letters poured in upon the bereaved family, from all parts of England, and indeed from the ends of the earth. Extracts from these interesting tributes of affection would form of themselves a volume; it is therefore impossible to give them to the reader, but all testified with one voice to the esteem and admiration in which he was held by those who differed from him, and to the warm love and devotion which he inspired in all who knew him, and whom he had guided into the ways of peace. One expression may be mentioned which was overheard in the conversation of two gentlemen on the day of the funeral (one of them a man of light and leading in the world). Said the first, “We ne’er shall look upon his like again,” to which the other made reply, “Did we ever see his like before?”

The beautiful letters which follow, written on the day of Canon Hoare’s death, speak for themselves:—

“Lambeth Palace, S.E., July 7th, 1894.

“My dear Miss Hoare,—One word only of intense sympathy; but intense in something which swallows up sorrow.

“No one will ever have looked more joyfully on the face of Christ in Paradise.

“Sincerely yours,
“E. W. Cantuar.”

“Lambeth Palace, S.E., July 7th.

“My dear Miss Hoare,—The news has this moment reached us, and I cannot resist sending you one word of deepest sympathy. I know the Archbishop will write for himself, but the thought of the beauty into which that holy and beautiful spirit has entered lives in one so, and in spite of all your personal sorrow and loss I cannot help feeling that you are living in that thought now.

“You know how we loved him—how could we help it!—and that we do know something of all he was and is and how the joy of the Lord has been the breath of his life; and so we may give thanks with you, may we not? though the heart must ache and the grief be keen. I must not trouble you more—God bless and keep you.

“Affectionately yours,
“Mary Benson.”

Notices of Canon Hoare’s death and sketches of his life, longer or shorter, appeared in countless newspapers in England, America, and Australia. The Record published several articles upon his career and influence in the Church of England. One of the most happily written appeared in the columns of the Guardian under the familiar initials “B. F. S.”

Few in the diocese of Canterbury had better knowledge of the man whom he described than the dignitary who penned those lines.

(From “The Guardian”)

In Memoriam.
Edward Hoare.

“By the death of Canon Hoare the Evangelical party in the Church of England loses, perhaps, its doughtiest champion in our generation. But long before his death experience and advancing years had so suffused his views with catholicity that he was even more conspicuous as a pillar of his Church than as the leader of a party.

“Born in a family in which piety was a tradition, and predisposed by his Quaker blood to think little of public opinion where it came into conflict with convictions, he inherited a vigour of mind and body of which he early gave proof when, as stroke of the Second Trinity boat, he raised it to the head of the river, and became a high Wrangler. But though a Fellowship at Trinity was fairly within his reach, he entered at once into the active duties of the ministry to which he had devoted himself, and thenceforth his energies were wholly bent on pastoral work, though not to the exclusion of the Mission cause abroad and the furtherance in England of those views which he believed most faithfully to reflect the mind of its Church. To the successful study of mathematics he doubtless owed the habit of boldly pressing his principles to their logical conclusions, undisturbed by those many side-issues which often perplex minds less vigorously trained in the exact sciences; though in his case a sturdy common sense and native shrewdness did not suffer him to be betrayed thereby into practical mistakes, while his large and loving heart would never permit the strongest of his opinions to impair his affection for men whose conclusions differed from his own, if they were otherwise worthy of it.

“It was on a foundation thus broad and solid that his commanding personality was built up, becoming a tower of strength to those who resigned themselves to his religious guidance, and attaching marvellously by its strength and sweetness converts to the religious principles which he held and advocated. How important a place he held at his best in the esteem of his neighbours those will remember who witnessed the universal demonstrations of sympathy when his life was in danger from Roman fever, and the whole town was quivering with anxiety lest they should lose one whom they could so ill spare. And though the wane of his physical powers and the inevitable changes of a watering-place population may have narrowed the circle of his influence towards the last, the striking demonstrations of respect which marked his funeral bore witness not only to the deep attachment of his own congregation, but also to the widespread conviction of his brother-clergy and of all the country-side that a shining light had been quenched, whose witness for God had penetrated far beyond the range of his personal ministrations.

“Of the endeared relations between him and his congregation, who had looked up to him for spiritual direction for over forty years, only those within the magic circle of that pastoral connection could form an idea. The well-spring of personal affection which flowed forth from his loving heart towards the humblest of his flock was repaid by a personal devotion which might have proved injurious to a weaker character, less firmly rooted on the rock of truth. But there was an element of generous appreciation in a remark let fall at his funeral, that there was probably no more ‘personally conducted’ congregation in England than that of Trinity Church, Tunbridge Wells.

“But on wider platforms Canon Hoare’s ascendency of character had been in his time not less conspicuous. In his own ruri-decanal meetings, in which he continued to take part up to within a few weeks of his death; in the diocesan conferences, at which only a year ago he bore his solemn and memorable testimony to the value of Church Schools; and at Church Congresses, where he was ever ready to step gallantly into the breach in defence of the principles of the Church which he thought to be assailed,—in these various fields of encounter the manliness of his advocacy, set off by his manifest sincerity, and by his charity towards those who differed from him, commended itself to the admiration even of those who remained unconvinced by his arguments.

“But his own pulpit was undoubtedly the vantage-ground from which he most effectively did battle for his Master’s cause. Armed with a forcible, lucid, and winning mode of address, with an incomparable command of Holy Scriptures, transparently in earnest, and known of all men to live the life he preached, by the elevation of his religious character no less than by voice and gesture, ‘he drew his audience upward to the sky.’ Even after his eyesight failed him, and he could with difficulty mount the pulpit steps, he continued to the last, like the Apostle of love, to deliver his Master’s message. And who shall say in how many hearts it found an echo among that changeful congregation, and in what remote parts of the world a generation which knew him not have been taught by their parents to call his name blessed? His beloved Mother Church has lost no more loyal, wise, persuasive, heavenly-minded son and servant—no more trusty guide of souls from earth to heaven—than our modern ‘Greatheart,’ Edward Hoare.”

“The Record” Friday, July 13th.
Canon Hoare.

“The death of Canon Hoare removes from the front rank of Evangelical Churchmen a conspicuous and commanding figure. He took his degree in 1834—Fifth Wrangler. He was ordained deacon in 1837, [273] the year, it will be remembered, of the Queen’s accession. His jubilee coincided with that of the Sovereign whom he so truly honoured; and it is neither fanciful nor fulsome to say that he held a kind of sovereign rank amongst the Evangelical clergy. One of their kings is dead. It happens sometimes to all parties to lose a man who was much more to them than to the Church at large. We do not deny that this was the case with Canon Hoare. In spite of his conspicuousness, he was not naturally the sort of man who loves to be conspicuous. He grew to greatness amongst his fellows by the influence of character alone. His abilities were considerable; his training was excellent; his family traditions were of the best that the eighteenth century in its ripe benevolence handed on to the young religious energy of the nineteenth. That bright benevolence and beneficence shone in his face, unmingled with the eagerness of the combatant or the push and pressure of the ambitious candidate for leadership. His attitude to the Church of England at large was one of admiring loyalty, but he had no self-seeking thoughts. He dwelt, and loved to dwell, among his own people. He took his share, an honourable share, in the struggles of his own times; but the part which he took was, when it led him to scenes of controversy, always a strange and unwelcome work. But none the less, perhaps all the more for that, he did it well. The nephew of Joseph John Gurney and of Elizabeth Fry was not without a strong element of what is sturdy and staunch. That side of his character found useful expression when, at the Church Congress at Derby in 1882, he was suddenly called upon to meet the suggestion of Lord Halifax that the Bishops should allow the alternative use at the Holy Communion office in the Prayer-Book of 1549. Then, in his own name and in the name of the Evangelical party, he spoke his apologia. . . . That scene illustrates the man; and though a good deal has happened since, and the Lambeth Judgment must not be forgotten, yet that interpretation of the signs of the times remains the only reasonable reading of them, and the alternative—the Reformers or Rome—is still the only possible alternative if England is to remain a Christian country. And yet, as we have said, this was an incident.

“His work, his real work, was of another kind. Perhaps no other position in England would have suited him quite as well as the post he held at Tunbridge Wells. He made Tunbridge Wells the Canterbury of West Kent, and he was the unofficial primate. For forty years this watering-place, the once fashionable and frivolous resort of people half whose complaints were due to the too easy conditions of their life, has come more and more to be the home of people whose leading purpose is to find out how to do most for the Kingdom of God, and have found there that a plain English clergyman was for the most part at the back of all its missionary energies. ‘I am but one of yourselves, a presbyter,’ said Newman in his first tract. So, in his last tract, might Canon Hoare have said. For forty fruitful years the overshadowing influence of a good man’s life has been a kind of visible sign of a yet higher overshadowing. Prayers and alms have marked the life of the place, and, whatever the future may have in store, there has been peace and truth in Tunbridge Wells in Canon Hoare’s days. Outside his own parish, his next most influential place was, no doubt, the Committee-room of the Church Missionary Society. There was a time, indeed, when week by week two able men came up to Salisbury Square, each in his own way exercising a powerful influence upon the Cabinet deliberations. One was the pen more than the voice, the other the voice more than the pen, of missionary counsel. But those were the days of Henry Venn, and in his days counsellors for the most part found themselves anticipated. But when those days had passed away, and the increasing missionary activity of the Church brought new conditions, new problems, new agencies, new methods into view, then came a time in which counsellors who had within them a living spring of energy, readiness of mind, elasticity, hopefulness, breadth of view, a firm belief in the future as well as a firm grip upon the past, were invaluable, and such a man was Canon Hoare. Things new and old were in him, as they always are in the men who by the force of character become guides of their fellows. The man of routine, the mere pedant, the mere deprecator of mistakes, asks always for a precedent. He does well to ask for it; it is a finger-post to him. The man of wisdom makes precedents, founding them on principles of which he is sure. In such a man the inner sight is clear, the eye is single. When he speaks there is the ring of authority in what he says, the highest expression of the common sense of men.

“Who shall estimate the value of such a career? Who shall gauge the loss to the commonwealth of the Church of one such counsellor? It is pleasant to think that, priceless as Canon Hoare was to his party, and thoroughly as he was in sympathy with its aims and sentiments, there is no deduction to be made for bitterness, for narrowness, for sour alienation from human interests. It was his privilege to touch the life of his times at many points: in the abundance of his interests he multiplied himself.

“Happy in his family, in the narrower and the wider sense of the word, happy in his friendships, happy in his opportunities, happy in his wide sympathies with humanity, his heart went out expansively to all who challenged his attention. The world became one wide field, to which he gave himself, his children, his substance, his time, his prayers. He was heart and soul an Evangelical. But we are greatly mistaken if the Church of England generally does not recognise in Canon Hoare one of her truest children, not the less for that which was part of his inheritance, the knowledge that Christ our Lord has other sheep, not of the fold in which he was so distinguished an under-shepherd.”

The Church Missionary Society.

The following minute, which was passed by the Committee of the above body at their first meeting after Canon Hoare’s death, records, as far as words can do so, the deep loss that the Society has sustained by this event:—

“In addition to the deaths of long-honoured and attached friends of the Society within the last few weeks, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, Canon Lord Forster, Lord Charles Russell, and Howard Gill, the Committee record with affectionate and thankful remembrance a life consecrated to the service of our Divine Master in the removal of their beloved brother Canon Edward Hoare.

“Trained in the days of the Evangelical revival at Cambridge under Simeon, Scholefield, and Carus, Edward Hoare commenced his ministry in 1836 as curate to the Rev. Francis Cunningham, at Pakefield, where he found the genial and warm sympathy of those who were at the time engaged in the religious movement, and where he gave early evidence of the bright living missionary spirit which was so prominent a feature of his ministry in his after-life at Richmond, Ramsgate, and, finally, at Tunbridge Wells; where, for forty-one years, he was by the grace of God ever at the front of all missionary work both at home and abroad. The remarkable position of influence which he attained was not from his gifts, which were considerable, but from his grace. The features of his character may be briefly summed up as they were known in his private life, in his parochial work, in the pulpit, on the platform, and in the Committee-room of the Church Missionary Society: godly simplicity and unflinching courage, clearness of judgment and expression, loving sympathy and consideration for others, unfailing diligence and soundness in the Faith, and supreme reverence for and delight in the Word of God. These gracious qualities made his counsels and co-operation wise, weighty, and practical. He was in the highest sense a faithful witness to the principles of the Reformation and the doctrine and discipline of the Church of England, and a zealous, popular, and attractive advocate at all times of the work of his beloved Church Missionary Society.

“The Committee commend the members of his family, especially those who are in the Mission-field, to the very special prayers of the Church, in the hope that a double portion of his spirit may be imparted to his successors.”

* * * * *

The beloved son in the Mission-field was the only one absent when the aged father was laid to rest. His visit with his wife and children, three and a half years before, had been an unspeakable joy in the old home. During Canon Hoare’s latter years all who knew him remember the interest and delight that he took in the work at Ningpo, and how continually his thoughts turned to those dear ones who had dedicated themselves to labour for God in China. Yet—who can tell?—perhaps when the River has been crossed time and distance have ceased to be, and the blessed dead, being with Christ, are nearer those who are in Christ than when they moved among us here on earth.

* * * * *

“After this it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a summons by the same post as the other, and had this for a token that the summons was true, ‘that his pitcher was broken at the fountain’ (Eccles. xii. 6). When he understood it he called for his friends and told them of it. Then said he: ‘I am going to my Father’s; and though with great difficulty I have got hither, yet now do I not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me to be a witness for me that I have fought His battles who now will be my rewarder.’

“When the day that he must go hence was come many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went down he said, ‘Death, where is thy sting?’ and as he went down deeper, he said, ‘Grave, where is thy victory?’

“So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him at the other side.”

* * * * *

“I passed from them, but I found Him whom my soul loveth” (Canticles iii. 4).

APPENDIX.

As an illustration of the hold which the name of Canon Hoare has upon the Church at large, it may be mentioned that when the suggestion was made to call the proposed New Wing of the South-Eastern College at Ramsgate after him, and to erect it as a memorial of his principles and the teaching of his life, the proposal was warmly received; contributions flowed in from India and the Antipodes, as well as from England, and in about ten months’ time the needed sum of £5,000 was in the Treasurer’s hands.

Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

Crown 8vo, Cloth, 3s. 6d.

SPIRAL STAIRS
OR
THE HEAVENWARD COURSE OF THE
CHURCH SEASONS

A Series of Devotional Studies on the Christian Life

By the Rev. J. H. TOWNSEND, D.D.
Vicar of Broadwater Down, Tunbridge Wells

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY THE

REV. HANDLEY C. G. MOULE, D.D.

Principal of Ridley Hall, Cambridge

Dr. Moule says:—

“I think your chapters delightful, with their clear exposition, their bright and, so to speak, friendly style, and above all with their fulness of witness to the Lord Jesus.”

“A volume of which it is impossible to speak too highly. . . . Dr. Townsend has a cultured and refined style. . . . We heartily recommend this volume, particularly to the younger clergy.”—Record.

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“Expository in method and Evangelical in outlook. . . Not merely earnest and thoughtful, but well-reasoned appeals to the heart and conscience.”—The Speaker.

London: HODDER & STOUGHTON, 27, Paternoster Row.

GREAT PRINCIPLES OF
DIVINE TRUTH

BY THE LATE
Rev. EDWARD HOARE, M.A.

Vicar of Holy Trinity, Tunbridge Wells, and Hon. Canon of Canterbury

EDITED BY THE

Rev. J. GURNEY HOARE, M.A.

Vicar of Aylsham

With Portrait. Crown 8vo, cloth, 6s.

CONTENTS—

I.—THE SOURCEOF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF DIVINE TRUTH.
1.	The Holy Scripture. Its Inspiration,Supremacy, and Sufficiency.
2.	,, ,, Inspiration. Its Nature andExtent.
3.	,, ,, The Study and Use of.
II.—CHRISTAND THE SINNER.
4.	Propitiation.
5.	Redemption and Salvation.
6.	Repentance.
7.	Justification.
8.	Forgiveness.	No. 1.—Judicial and Parental.
9.		No. 2.—Present.
10.		No. 3.—Application of.
11.	The Connexion of Holiness with Atonement.
12.	Nothing between.
13.	Personal Religion.
14.	Present Privileges of the Justified.
15.	The Joy of the Lord.
III.—THE HOLYSPIRIT.
16.	The Personality of the Holy Spirit and HisPresent Work in the Administration of the Church.
17.	New Birth.
18.	Holiness of Heart and Life.
IV.—WORSHIP.
19.	The Holy Spirit the Author of AcceptableWorship.
20.	The Province of the Emotions in the Worship ofGod.

London: J. NISBET & CO.