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

by Edward Hoare

I saw in Mrs. Cunningham the most beautiful example of a clergyman’s wife, and I saw in numbers of young women of the parish the conspicuous evidence of God’s blessing on her work amongst them.

There were amongst those men fine, noble, rough, powerful fellows—men who, till Mr. Cunningham went there, had been living without God in the world, but now devout consistent believers, and splendid men for dashing through the surf to save life from shipwreck, knowing not what fear was, yet who would kneel together in devout Communion at the Table of the Lord. I never can forget one fearful snow-storm accompanied by a heavy gale. Two of these true men, Nath Colby and Robert Peck, brought in their boats through the gale, wet, cold, and half-frozen, but there I saw them at the service on the Thursday evening, drinking in the Word of Life, and evidently regarding it as their greatest pleasure to be able to be present on that occasion.

That was the last time I ever spoke to dear Robert Peck. He went out again in command of his large fishing boat, and early in the following week I heard that his boat had been found bottom upward. It was my solemn duty to walk through the village, where, everybody being so awed by what had happened, no one spoke a word, to go up to that cottage to tell the poor woman her husband and her son were gone. As I went up the alley where she lived, I heard voices in one of the cottages; turning in, I found some Christian friends assembled there, praying for the poor bereaved woman. I then went into her cottage, and I suppose she read in my face what had happened, and she said to me, ere I could open my lips, “Then they are both lost?” Then she added: “‘A bruised reed shall He not break, and the smoking flax shall He not quench.’ These were the last words that Robert spoke to me—and I am sure the Lord will never fail me!” Oh that every young curate had the opportunity of learning as much from his Rector, and his Rector’s family, as I did from Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham! I do not hesitate to say that their example, and the blessing which God gave to their ministry, have given character to the whole of my own ministry for the last fifty-two years.

These were not the only advantages I enjoyed in Pakefield, for I was within easy reach of Earlham, the seat of my dear Uncle Joseph John Gurney. He was a very remarkable man, and his home was one of the most charming homes in England. He used to collect there many of the most distinguished men of the day. Nothing could be more delightful than the great gatherings under his hospitable roof on the occasion of the Norwich Meetings which were held every autumn.

I had a horse at that time which taught me a great lesson in practical life. It was a splendid trotter, but pulled like a steam-engine if I pulled against it; but if I treated it gently and with confidence it was as gentle as a lamb. How often have I seen the same effect produced amongst mankind! Try to force them, and they resist; deal gently with them, and they will be your most active and kindest helpers. So I used as often as possible to ride over to Earlham.

There I had three friends. There was my uncle, who was far in advance of the Quakers of his day in theological knowledge, being a good Biblical critic and well made up in the great doctrines of the Gospel. The great point in his conversations with me was the Divinity of our Lord and Saviour. It was he that taught me of the goings forth of the pre-existent Saviour with the Name and Attributes of Jehovah. Then there was Mr. William Forster, the father of the late statesman, who was most earnest with me on the importance of definite theology. He recommended certain books for my study, and at his advice I purchased Brown’s “Natural and Revealed Religion,” Guise’s “Expositor,” and Dwight’s “Theology,” which three books have been of the utmost value to me throughout my ministry. The latter book indeed has been made the text-book for my son’s theological students in China. Thus is Mr. Forster’s advice being still acted upon in that far distant region.

Besides these two men was my very dear friend the Rev. Robert Hankinson, at that time Curate of Earlham. He was a man of remarkably sound judgment, as well as fervent piety; and never can I forget the profitable hours which I spent with him in the Earlham Parsonage, learning from him maxims of practical wisdom to carry home for my ministerial work.

But that was not all that happened to me at Pakefield; for while I was there it pleased God to take home to Himself my dearest mother. My dear brother Sam had died of consumption in the year 1833, and she deeply mourned his loss—nor could we wonder, for he was a noble young man, full of high principles, dutiful to his father and mother, and devoted to the Lord. His influence over us his younger brothers was of infinite value to us all, as we had ever before us a spotless example. He had married most happily, was settled in his home near to our father’s house, when he was suddenly seized with hæmorrhage, and very rapidly sank, full of faith in God. I remember well, when I sat up with him on the last night of his life, how he spoke to me of the bright hope of the coming Resurrection, how he exhorted those around him to be ready for their Saviour.

I believe it was the shock as well as the sorrow of parting with him that so deeply wrung my mother’s heart. She was in his room with him on the morning of his death, and thinking that his dear wife required attention, she went out for a few minutes to see after her, and when she returned, to her surprise, he was gone. That was in the autumn of 1833, and for nearly three years we saw her gradually fail, till at length in the summer of 1836 the end came.

There was something most interesting in the character of my mother. She was not one of those who spoke much of present salvation and present peace; such subjects were not spoken of so much throughout the Church in those days as they are now. Good men in those times seemed to think more of the future than the present salvation. I am not sure that we have not drifted rather too much into the dwelling on the present, to the forgetfulness of the future life, and surely it is important for us to keep the balance. But while there was very little of the modern language of assurance, there was in its most perfect form the great reality of the hallowed Christ. I can never forget the language of that dearest mother to me as I stood by her bedside during her dying illness: “I can reverently say, with the deepest humility, ‘Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee.’” And she did love Him with her whole heart and soul. How well do I remember her words in the garden at Hampstead in the afternoon of her son’s death! While she wept over his loss, she exclaimed, “How little it is in comparison with sin!” [66]