_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_ 19_th_, 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_ 3_rd_, 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_ 4_th_, 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_ 16_th_, 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_ 16_th_, 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_ 1_st_, 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_ 20_th_, 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_ 5_th_, 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_ 24_th_, 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_ 26_th_, 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_ 22_nd_, 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_ 14_th_, 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_ 28_th_, 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_ 7_th_, 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_ 10_th_, 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_ 16_th_, 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_ 24_th_, 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.