Edward Hoare, M.A Part 6

"HAMPSTEAD, _April_ 6_th_, 1839.

"MY DEAR UNCLE,-How are the mighty fallen! I am going to be married!! I have been spending a delightful week with the Brodies, and am come home engaged hard and fast to Maria. I am exceedingly happy, though I scarcely can believe it. I have the greatest hope that the thing has been undertaken in a prayerful spirit, and that we may look for G.o.d's abundant blessing on us. We both particularly beg that you will marry us.

"Your most affectionate Nephew, "EDWARD h.o.a.rE.

"Give my dearest love to my aunt, Frank, etc."

To Mrs. Cunningham:-

"RICHMOND, SURREY, _May_ 30_th_, 1839.

"MY DEAREST AUNT,-As for myself, I am exceedingly happy, though so unusually busy that I hardly know how to think much about my happy prospects. Never was a person less loverlike, for I am expecting a confirmation here next week, and having more than one hundred and thirty young persons under my care, I am so busy from morning till night that I find my whole mind occupied. I think it is a good thing for me, for it fixes my thoughts upon my work, which otherwise they would be very much disposed to wander from. I am every day more and more happy in the thought of my marriage, and more and more thankful for the prospect of a wife who, I fully believe, has given herself to G.o.d. There is not a single feature in the whole thing that I could wish otherwise, and, besides all living circ.u.mstances, the recollection of my dearest mother's wish makes the connection to my own mind quite a hallowed one. I only hope that we may be enabled to devote ourselves unitedly, as we have desired to do separately, to the service of that Heavenly Father who has laden us with so many blessings. We expect to be married on the 2nd of July, about ten days after their return; we then hope to go to the Isle of Wight for a fortnight or three weeks. I do not wish to take a long holiday, because of the expense, and because I am very anxious to take the lady into Norfolk and to Lowestoft in the autumn. I doubt, however, whether I shall be able to accomplish it."

A letter from one of his sisters describing the wedding:-

"BROOM PARK, _July_ 9_th_, 1839.

"Here we are in peace and safety, Edward shut up with Maria, Kate and I looking tolerably neat in white poplin, having just dressed in our little room, our only misfortune being that we have no gloves. We found dearest Edward most bright and sweet; the drive down with him has been not a little pleasant; nothing could have answered better than our journey with him, and we did quite enjoy it. Here is Maria come for us! She looks so quiet, and is so nice, only she has got a bad cold. When we went downstairs the Buxtons were just arriving; they had joined our phaeton party, and all arrived together. The only mishap has been that by going to London for her gown Miss Foreman entirely missed them, and we are fearful that there is but little hope of her arrival now; it is most provoking and quite a tribulation. Caroline arrived from Bury Hill, looking most sweet with a beautiful bouquet of orange flowers. Lady Brodie very kind and like herself, Sir B. B. detained in town by patients. When we had had a satisfactory tea, some went back to the drawing-room, others for a walk; the party consisted of all our own clan, and, as in most parties, there was a flock of girls in white, the belle on the Brodie side being Miss Beamish, on ours of course Chenda. Mr. T.

Hankinson arrived in the middle of the evening, having stopped to climb up Box Hill and ford a rivulet. The house is beautiful, and the whole place pretty and cheerful. Maria behaves herself capitally-so much spirit, yet so quiet, and thinking little of herself; she looks two years younger than when we saw her last. _We_ are in Mr. Brodie's room, and, as Laydon says, there is so much _shooting tackle_ 'she don't know where to put away our things.'

Edward is most happy; it truly is a pleasure to look at his beaming face. How I wish you could see them both together, dearest sister; it is most interesting... . The party now a.s.sembling for church all in good heart; Mr. Hankinson making the eight bridesmaids and about six other ladies laugh in the dining-room, the rest dispersed.

... Half-past five o'clock (in the room which we had at Gurney's wedding). After the above followed a lengthy waiting-people arriving, but no Bishop. Maria and Lady Brodie appeared, quite ready, but had to abide for a long time till the Bishop had arrived and arrayed himself. About eleven o'clock we went to the church, six bridesmaids in one carriage, and two with Caroline in another, all the gentlemen having walked previously and were ready at the churchyard gate to receive us; four bridesmaids with their gentlemen stood on each side of the path till the bride had pa.s.sed and then closed in behind her. In the church the positions were capital-the relations round the altar, and her bridesmaids standing on a step behind her. The Bishop read the service beautifully, and they both spoke very clearly-she was perfectly composed. Signing and kissing as usual afterwards, with the bells ringing, and home as we came.

After some congratulating in the drawing-room we all sallied forth for a walk, stimulated, as in everything, by Mr. Tom Hankinson.

Maria then went in to rest awhile. We gathered in a group round Mr.

Hankinson (in the garden) and heard all the poem about Sir Rupert and Lorline; then down to the water, where all the eight bridesmaids were put into the boat and our dear bridegroom (taking off his coat) rowed us about. This filled up the time capitally till the breakfast, for which we were very ready, though we had to wait some period for the Bishop, who was lost on the strawberry beds. The breakfast was very nice and _very amusing_. The first health was proposed by the Bishop in a most nice little speech; it was of course 'Mr. and Mrs. E.

h.o.a.re.' Our sisterly vanity was amply satisfied, and how I wish you could have heard Edward's reply. It was so gratifying and nice to have him make such a truly nice speech, which he ended by proposing 'Sir B. and Lady Brodie.' A most feeling reply from Sir Benjamin, speaking so highly of both bride and bridegroom, but he could scarcely get on once or twice from feeling it so much. He proposed the Bishop of Winchester, and that was greeted by another three times three; which he thanked for, observing that 'he had not expected to make so much noise in the world.' Then Gurney proposed 'The Bridesmaids,' and Mr. Goulburn thanked for us, though, alas! he nearly stuck. Then 'Papa'-and he made such a nice speech in return, observing that his three daughters-in-law being an increasing and untellable blessing to him, he had no small reason to rejoice in his new acquisition. Breakfast done, we went away, Maria to dress. The parting scene with her father and brother (in tears) upstairs was trying; but she pa.s.sed by all of us who were waiting in the hall and went off very brightly. But I must leave off, though I fear this is an unsatisfactory history, though in all the muddles we have done our little best. Ever, dearest Sister,

"Most affectionately, "C. E. H."

CHAPTER VII _HOLLOWAY AND RAMSGATE_

In the year 1846 the time came for a change. My friend the Rev. Daniel Wilson wrote to invite me to the Inc.u.mbency of St. John's, Holloway, about to be vacated by my dear and honoured friend the Rev. Henry Venn, one of the wisest, the ablest, and the most trustworthy men I have ever known in this life; and there were many circ.u.mstances, amongst others the illness of my beloved father residing at Hampstead, that led both of us to the conclusion that we ought to accept the offer. It was one of deep interest in many respects, more especially in consequence of its connection with the Rev. Henry Venn. In early days he was curate or lecturer at Clapham, when he used to attend the Committee of the C.M.S., and was urged by some of the fathers of those days to undertake the Secretarys.h.i.+p; but his heart was devoted to parochial work, so he accepted the living of Drypool, near Hull, and so broke away altogether from the work of the C.M.S. And then it pleased G.o.d that he should meet with, and ultimately marry, a lady of some property, in consequence of which he was no longer absolutely dependent upon his profession for his maintenance. He was led, however, to return southward, where the Vicar of Islington offered him the Inc.u.mbency of St. John's, Holloway, a new church just built out in the fields. To the interests of that parish he devoted his whole great energy, and he returned, as might have been expected, to the old committee room in the C.M.S. There his power was felt more and more, while his own heart became more and more drawn into the deep interests of missionary work, till at length he decided to give up his parochial work, as he could now live without the income derived from it, and devote the remainder of his life, without one farthing of salary, to the sacred work of the Secretarys.h.i.+p of the Society.

I felt it a great honour to succeed such a man under such circ.u.mstances, as it was a great privilege to be brought into closer contact with him, as he continued to reside within the parish. The time at Holloway was not one of encouragement. I met with a great deal of kindness, and I had most interesting Bible cla.s.ses-not merely one for the young people, but one for the gentlemen after their return from business in London-but still I longed for more of that marked decision which I had left behind me at Richmond. Evangelical truth was "the proper thing" at Islington, so that it was very generally preferred; but I often wondered how far it was a reality in the souls of the people, and sometimes I used to think that the spirit of antagonism at Richmond was really more healthful than the spirit of a.s.sent at Holloway. It certainly brought out more decision of character.

But I have learnt many lessons respecting that period. I have often said that I regarded that year as the most fruitless period of my ministry, but as I have gone on in life I have met with so many who have ascribed their conversion to the ministry of that short period, that I have been taught the lesson that a clergyman is utterly unable to form any estimate of what G.o.d the Holy Ghost is doing through his ministry.

However, we were not to remain there long, for the Lord Himself made it perfectly plain that it was His will for us to remove. My dearest wife was very unwell, and I was lame in the right knee. My father also was quickly gathered to his rest in Christ Jesus, so that one of the great motives in going to Holloway was removed. Though I had great difficulty in walking, I was able to ride, and one day I rode in to call on my father-in-law, Sir Benjamin Brodie, whom I consulted respecting my knee, and he said to me,-

"I tell you what, Edward; you must go to the seaside."

"Well," said I, "I did think of going for a short trip after Easter."

"Oh, I don't mean that," said he. "You must go to the seaside for a year at least."

"But what," said I, "is to become of my parish, my work, my family?"

"I don't know," he replied, "but this I know, that if you don't go to the seaside for at least a year you will die, and so what will become of it all then?"

This was indeed a very heavy blow to me, and I rode home that day solemnised in spirit, and thinking how I should tell my dearest wife what her father had just said to me.

It was a very solemn and sacred ride that I had that morning, but on my arrival, before I went upstairs to her, I opened my letters that had arrived during my absence, and almost the first one was from my friend John Plumptre, in which he said that he was one of the trustees of a new church nearly complete at Ramsgate, and it would be a great satisfaction to him and his colleagues if I would undertake the first Inc.u.mbency. To describe the mixed emotion with which I went upstairs to tell my wife, both of her father's opinion and Mr. Plumptre's letter, is impossible.

But the remarkable coincidence did not at first thoroughly satisfy the sound judgment of my friend Mr. Venn. When I spoke to him on the subject, he said that the text which had guided him in his important decisions was Prov. xvi. 3: "Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be established." He said that at first he would frequently be divided and perplexed in judgment, but that as he went on waiting on the Lord for guidance and trusting Him, the whole matter would gradually appear to him so clear that it left no possibility of doubt.

How often, acting upon his advice, have I found it true, so that I have seen my way perfectly clear in cases in which there seemed at first nothing but perplexity! Was not this the secret of that singular wisdom which he showed in the affairs of the C.M.S.? and is there any one who sat with him habitually in the committee room who does not remember the frequency with which he put his hand over his eyes, without doubt "committing his works unto the Lord"? But his thoughts, which were as mine, were established with reference to our removal to Ramsgate, and we never had reason to regret the change.

Letter to his Uncle Cunningham:-

"HAMPSTEAD, _November_ 28_th_, 1844.

"MY DEAR UNCLE,-I quite agree with you that it is a bad thing never to write to those we love. Real good, strong affection can stand the long lack of communication, as strong plants can stand a long drought, but it is an unwise thing to put it to the test... .

"I fully sympathise in what you say of the Church. I can imagine nothing more deplorable than the foolish men, both curates and bishops, scattering the very best of the laity from her fold, and all for their empty, worthless baubles. Oh, what a blessing it would have been for our Church and country if people had spent half the strength in lifting the Cross and spreading the Bible that they have wasted over surplices and ubrics! But it is not mere waste. As far as I can see, it is downright suicide, a wilful destruction of the Church's influence over her people. But do you not think G.o.d is teaching us a lesson? Are not His waiting children taught by all this to rally round their risen and reigning Lord, and to cease from man whose breath is in his nostrils? Is not the Church always exposed either to pressure from without or delusion within? And are not those the two great instruments by which He keeps His elect people pure? Oh, may G.o.d grant that we may be amongst the Lamb's faithful followers! ...

"In our parish we have had but little visible encouragement since our return from Norfolk. Before we went out we were blessed with several interesting cases, but since our return we have not known of one. It is a great sorrow to me. I hope, however, the Lord is really owning His word. We are desiring to honour Him and to set forth Christ crucified, and though our labours are most miserable, I delight to think that from the inmost soul it is our desire to honour Christ in them. I have just finished a course of four practical sermons on the Bible, in which I found great interest, and am now preparing another course for Advent on the following subjects: _How our Lord will come_; _when_; _what to do_; and _what we should be doing till He comes_. Our prophetical meeting this November was one of the most delightful hours I ever knew. It was so sober, so serious, so practical, and so full of Christ that I think all felt it a time of true blessing to be there. I never heard anything more completely to my mind than the addresses of Mr. Auriol and Mr. Goodhart on the 'practical bearing of the expectation of future reward.' ...

"Your most affectionate Nephew, "EDWARD h.o.a.rE."

Autobiography (_continued_).

The position was one of the greatest possible interest. The circ.u.mstances of the town were quite peculiar. The Vicar of St. George was a High Churchman who did not hesitate to employ curates who went far beyond himself in their opinions, and the result was that two of them went over to Rome. There was an amiable man in Trinity Church who had no sympathy with St. George's, but yet had but little power in satisfying the hearts of those who loved the Gospel, and the result was that many of the most devoted people in the place were driven either into the dissenting chapels or into general unsettlement of mind. Meanwhile Mr.

Pugin {98} was erecting a large establishment on the West Cliff, and the chapel was already opened, and an active priest at work amongst the distracted and unsettled flock.

Then it was that G.o.d raised up a very remarkable man with wonderful energy to erect the new church. He formed a small committee, but he himself was the moving spirit and the one centre of power. He was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, with no general acquaintance and nothing of what the world calls influence, but he was G.o.d's powerful instrument. I refer to Lieutenant (afterwards Commander) Hutchinson, R.N. As he knew nothing of Church matters, he wisely took counsel with Mr. Plumptre, who put him in communication with some London lawyer, I forget who, who might direct him in the use of what was then called the Church Building Act; so he served the proper notices on the Vicar and patrons, and having secured to trustees the patronage of the new church which he proposed to build, he set to work single-handed to raise the funds and to complete the undertaking. He wrote countless ma.n.u.script letters all over England. He was a man of wonderful energy, as he afterwards proved by reducing Balaclava to good order, and all that energy he devoted with unsparing zeal to the great work to which G.o.d had called him. How many letters he wrote I do not know; I know that I received several. His first letter would be a general application; if that brought him a contribution, it would be quickly followed by another rejoicing that the work was so much appreciated, and asking for a second gift; but if it brought no reply, then came a second convinced that the only reason for delay was the great importance of the work, and earnestly appealing for the help which he was sure was contemplated. Thus letter followed letter in quick succession; the contract was signed on his own responsibility, and Christ Church was quickly reared as a monument to show what might be done by one man whose heart was in earnest, and who, like Mr. Venn, "committed his works unto the Lord."

It is not to be supposed that these letters written were in a very complimentary strain with reference to the existing order of things in the Parish Church, nor were they likely to make Christ Church acceptable in the eyes of the Vicar or his staff. I myself went to the Parish Church in the afternoon previous to the opening of Christ Church, and I heard a sermon descriptive of the persons who would attend the new church, upon the text "He went away in a rage," and I there heard my future congregation all cla.s.sed with Naaman. But apparently there were a great many such Naamans in Ramsgate, for the church was well filled on the 7th of August, the day when it was consecrated by Archbishop Howley, and I may say has been so ever since.

I found Ramsgate to be a most interesting sphere of ministry. There were three great sources of interest. First, the s.h.i.+pping. My original Pakefield interest in the English boatmen was more than revived by my acquaintance with the "hovellers," two hundred of whom were dependent for their bread on helping s.h.i.+ps in difficulty off the Goodwin Sands. I fear that some of them thought more of their own earnings than they did of the lives they were so brave in saving. I can never forget the reply that I received from one of the best of them when I asked him one bitterly cold winter's morning how he was getting on; upon which he replied that now they had got all their lights, and buoys, and chain cables, there was nothing left for an honest man to do. He said: "There we were at the south end of the sands about three o'clock this morning, when up came one of these foreign chaps, and was running as pretty upon the Goodwin Sands as ever you'd wish to see, when, all of a sudden, he saw one of these here nasty staring buoys-port helm and off!"

But though it was a pretty sight to them to see a foreign chap go straight upon the Goodwin Sands, it was a magnificent sight for any one to witness the skill and daring courage with which they handled their luggers and dashed through the breakers in order to save the lives of the s.h.i.+pwrecked men. They were n.o.ble fellows, and when their hearts were touched by the grace of G.o.d, they were fine, manly witnesses for Christ.

Then there were the sailors on board the various s.h.i.+ps that put in for shelter. As the harbour was at that time free, it was sometimes crowded with vessels, and I used to have a grand opportunity for out-of-door preaching. At first I used to go down in my cap and gown on Sunday afternoons, but I found that a sermon out of doors, combined with a walk on the pier, was more agreeable to many people than either Church or Sunday School, so I had to give it up, and seize such opportunities as wind and weather permitted. But I never was at a loss for a large congregation, and when I took my place on the p.o.o.p of one of the s.h.i.+ps, I had the deep interest of seeing crowds of people, some on the pier and some on the tiers of s.h.i.+ps and some on the rigging, amongst whom I had the sacred opportunity of scattering the seed, without the least idea to what point the wind would carry it.

On one occasion I was greatly solemnised. I selected the s.h.i.+p best suited for my purpose, and the Captain and his men gave me the kindest possible reception; the only inconvenience to which they put me was that they would insist upon my preaching against the wind, as they did not consider it sufficiently dignified for me to stand in the hold of the vessel. There they listened most attentively. In the evening the wind changed, and all the s.h.i.+ps hurried out of harbour, and how deeply affected was I to hear next morning that the one on which I had received so kind a welcome had been lost with all hands during the night.

The advantage of the harbour was that throughout the winter months there was always something going on in it, so that we could not settle down into stagnation. One morning, for example, my friend the harbour-master, Captain Martin, sent up to me to say that he expected a crew of s.h.i.+pwrecked emigrants to be very shortly landed; so I hurried down to the harbour, and there I saw one of the most piteous sights I have ever seen in my life. There was a small schooner just entering the harbour, with one hundred and sixty German emigrants crowded together on the decks.

Their s.h.i.+p had been wrecked over-night, and one boat containing seven women was sent off soon after the wreck, but was supposed to have been lost in the breakers. The remainder were subsequently taken off by the schooner that brought them into Ramsgate. There they stood, huddled together, in the clothes in which they had sprung from their berths on the striking of the s.h.i.+p-that is, almost in a state of nakedness. The sea had been breaking over them from the time the s.h.i.+p had struck, and they had no food. What was to be done with them was indeed a question, but all parties set to work with vigour.

An infant schoolroom was set apart for their accommodation, and another large room was obtained in connection with one of the public-houses; so they were very quickly housed, and such vigour was shown by the s.h.i.+p agents, consular agents, and all connected with the harbour, that something warm was provided for every one of them, even upon their landing.

But they were still unclothed, and to meet this difficulty bills were put out, so soon as possible, to request gifts of clothing, cloth, or flannel, and also the help of any persons who could a.s.sist us in making up clothing. It was wonderful to see the zeal and liberality with which piles of goods were poured in upon us. These were not always very suitable, and I remember seeing amongst the goods sent _some muslin ball-dresses_! There was a great quant.i.ty of good useful clothing, added to which numbers of ladies came together and worked hard all through the day, while the various agents laboured at the distribution, so that I believe that not one of those hundred and sixty emigrants lay down that night without having some warm, comfortable piece of clothing provided for him, and without being well fed with a comfortable meal and well housed for the night's rest.