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.