There was a long struggle, dark and intense. Probably the most faithful have had to go through terrible times of testing, and have known what it was to endure dark hours, aye, and days and weeks, “when neither sun nor stars appeared, and all hope that we should be saved was taken away.” It may be a comfort to many who in his ministry have been upheld by the firm faith of their teacher to know that Edward Hoare once passed through a time like this. It is no breach of confidence to give here the following lines written in his journal at this time:—
“Forsake me not, my God! my heart is sinking,
Bowed down with faithless fears and bodings vain,
Busied with dark imaginings, and drinking
Th’ anticipated cup of grief and pain:
But, Lord, I lean on Thee; Thy staff and rod
Shall guide my lot;
I will not fear if Thou, my God, my God,
Forsake me not.“Forsake me not, my God!
Though earth grow dim and vanish from my sight,
Through death’s dark vale no human hand may take me,
No friend’s fond smile may bless me with its light;
Alone the silent pathway must be trod
Through that drear spot—
For I must die alone—oh there, my God,
Forsake me not!“Forsake me not, my God! when darkly o’er me
Roll thoughts of guilt and overwhelm my heart;
When the accuser threatening stands before me,
And trembling conscience writhes beneath the dart,
Thou who canst cleanse by Thy atoning blood
Each sinful spot,
Plead Thou my cause, my Saviour and my God!
Forsake me not!“Forsake me not, O Thou Thyself forsaken
In that mysterious hour of agony,
When from Thy soul Thy Father’s smile was taken
Which had from everlasting dwelt on Thee:
Oh by that depth of anguish which to know
Passes man’s thought,
By that last bitter cry, Incarnate God,
Forsake me not!”
But the storm passed, and was followed by “clear shining after rain.” The adversary meant it for harm, but God overruled it for good; and surely one of the secrets of Edward Hoare’s great power of helping troubled souls, for which he was so remarkable in after-life, lay in the fact that he had passed through the time of spiritual darkness, and had come out into the light.
Autobiography (continued).
After taking my degree at Cambridge I continued to reside there for a time, taking mathematical pupils and reading for a Trinity Fellowship; but not having succeeded in my first examination, and being anxious to be at work in the great calling of my life, I could not devote another year to the study of mathematics. So I threw my whole heart into immediate preparation for the ministry.
In those days there was no Ridley or Wycliffe, and I was thrown upon my own resources for my study; but I worked hard and brought all my Cambridge habits to bear on the great subject of theology. If I had learnt nothing else at Cambridge, I had learnt never to be satisfied till I got a clear view of what I was about, and that habit of mine, acquired through mathematical study, has been of the greatest possible benefit throughout my life.
During those important months, to use Cambridge language, I “got up” some of our best books, such as Butler, Pearson, and Hooker. What I learnt from the latter especially has been invaluable to me through life. Butler’s “Analogy” has again and again been helpful to me, when there has been a tendency to a shaking of the faith. But that which helped me most during that time of preparation was the study of great doctrinal truths from Scripture itself. I took up such subjects as The Divinity of our Lord, Justification by Faith, Baptism, The Lord’s Supper, Election, and Final Perseverance, one at a time; and I read the whole New Testament through with especial reference to the one subject which I was studying, carefully noting every passage referring to it. I then analysed and grouped those passages, keeping careful records of results. Having thus dealt with one subject, I went on to the second, then to the third, and so on. I have no words wherewith to convey the immense value these studies have been to me throughout life. They have told upon the whole of my ministry. After more than fifty-two years I am habitually using the results first obtained in that preparation period.
I cannot speak too strongly, therefore, of the vast importance of our young men, when preparing for the ministry, devoting themselves to the careful study of theology. I see dear young men, full of zeal and holy earnestness, who seem, indeed, so zealous that they cannot wait to study; and they are to my mind like men who are in such haste to fire their guns that they cannot wait to put any shot in them! The result is that, when they are sent forth as ministers of the Gospel and as teachers of the truth, they are themselves ignorant of the clear definitions of the truth they are going to teach, and, while they can make fervent appeals, are utterly unable to build up others in great fundamental truths of the Gospel. It is not fervour only that makes a minister valuable, but a fervent exhibition of truth; and if we are to be able ministers, we must be able ministers of New Testament truths.
I consider, therefore, that an immense benefit has been conferred upon the Church of England by the foundation of Ridley Hall at Cambridge, and Wycliffe Hall at Oxford. How thankful should I have been myself to have been under the teaching of either of the two able Principals of those Halls; and how earnest should we all be to secure to our young men the benefit of these institutions, and not to let them go forth as evangelists or scripture-readers, to be giving out before they have taken in, and to be teaching others before they have learnt themselves.
At length the day came for my ordination, and I had the inestimable privilege of being ordained as curate to my revered and beloved uncle, Mr. Francis Cunningham, Vicar of Lowestoft and Rector of Pakefield. An ordination in those days was a very different thing to what it is now. At that time Bishop Bathurst was Bishop of Norwich, and too infirm to undertake his own ordinations. He therefore gave his candidates dimissory letters to the Bishop of Lincoln.