Edward Hoare, M.A Part 21

Is an act of obedience: Mark xiv.; Luke xxii.

Is a sign, or emblem: 1 Cor. xi.

Is an act of loving remembrance: 1 Cor. xi.

Is a means of feeding on the Lord Jesus: 1 Cor. x.

Is an opportunity of intercourse with the Lord; Luke xxiv.

Is a means of fellowship with each other: 1 Cor. x.

Is a help to joy: Acts ii.

Lecture IX.-_On receiving the Lord's Supper unworthily_.

Danger of receiving it unworthily: 1 Cor. xi. "d.a.m.nation" here means "chastening": ver. 32.

To receive it unworthily is to receive it-

Without repentance, without faith, without seriousness, without love: 1 Cor. xi.

You may be young Christians, but not come unworthily: Matt. xxvi.; Acts ii.

You may be unworthy to come, but not come unworthily: Luke vii.; Luke xv.

LECTURE X.-_Confirmation Service_.

The laying on of hands: Acts viii.; Acts xix.; Heb. vi.

The blessing to be expected: Acts viii.; Acts xix.

Decision for G.o.d: Isa. xliv.

The prayers in Confirmation Service.

For the Holy Spirit.

For strength.

For defence.

For perseverance.

For growth in grace.

CHAPTER XVI _REMINISCENCES_

There are numerous anecdotes and incidents connected with Canon h.o.a.re's lengthened ministry at Tunbridge Wells, which ill.u.s.trate his many-sided character in a remarkable way. A few of these selected from the great stock of reminiscence in the minds of his people may be of interest to the reader.

On one occasion banns of marriage were put up in Trinity Church between a workman recently come to the town and a young woman whose widowed mother lived in the parish of Holy Trinity.

When the banns had been twice called an anonymous letter was received by the Vicar, which stated that the man was already married. Careful inquiry having proved that this was true, and that his wife and family were living in another town, the Vicar made up his mind to punish the delinquent in a novel way. The couple whose banns had been called were sent for, and Canon h.o.a.re told the girl the whole story in her false lover's presence. It was received with indignant incredulity, but the proofs were unanswerable. Turning upon her companion, she sobbed out, "James, James, I never believed you could have done this." The man tried to brazen it out, and laughingly said, "Well, I suppose we need not have the banns published again?" "_Indeed they shall be read again_," was the Vicar's reply.

By this time the man was getting uncomfortable under the piercing eye that was fixed upon him, and he said, "Well, come along, Polly; it's time for us to be going." "Indeed it _is_ time for you to be going," said the Vicar, "and you had better be sharp about it too, but Polly shall not go with you." With these words he pointed to the door, towards which the offender made with remarkable rapidity. When he was gone Mr. h.o.a.re turned to the girl, and, taking her out on the other side of the house from that by which the man had left, bid her go home with all speed.

Next Sunday morning in the vestry Canon h.o.a.re called the clerk aside and gave him some directions; then, having said to the curates "I'll read the banns to-day," he took that part of the service in which they occur.

Having finished the second lesson, it was observed that in an unusually loud voice and with great distinctness he read out: "I publish the banns of marriage between James -, _bachelor_, and Mary Ann -, spinster, both of this parish. These are for the third time of asking. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in holy matrimony, ye are to declare it." At this moment the whole congregation were electrified by a loud voice at the end of the church calling out, "I forbid the banns of James - and Mary Ann -!"

"Well, come into the vestry after service and state your reasons," was the reply.

The news fled like wild-fire over the parish, and the man got so unmercifully (yet deservedly) jeered and hooted by his fellow-workmen that he had to fly from the town. It may be added, as a curious and significant fact, that it was not the immorality of the proceeding which aroused this feeling, but "Jim - has let the parson do him out of three and sixpence, for he paid for the banns, but couldn't get tied!"

Another anecdote which has got into print somewhat incorrectly is the following. The parish clerk was one day in attendance at a funeral in Holy Trinity Cemetery when he noticed a gentleman walking about apparently looking for something. He accosted him, and asked if he could help him in any way. The other replied, in a very cheery and brisk way: "Yes, you can; in fact I am looking for a nice sunny place for my grave.

I am going to die soon, the doctors tell me, and I want to get a pleasant place to be buried in." The clerk was somewhat astounded at the tone and manner of the visitor, but suggested various sites. One was soon selected, and in the same cheerful way the gentleman went on, striking the ground as he spoke: "Capital, just the place; here it shall be; I shall be put in here, and that will be the end of me." The clerk responded quietly, "Are you quite sure of that, sir? for I am not."

"Yes, quite sure," was the answer, and then a discussion ensued between the two; when it had lasted a few minutes the official said, "Well, sir, I may not be able to convince you that you are wrong, but I know my Vicar could." "Oh, I want none of your parsons," said the visitor; "but who _is_ your Vicar?" "The Reverend Edward h.o.a.re, sir." "h.o.a.re, Edward h.o.a.re-did he come from Hampstead?" "Yes, sir, I believe he did." "How astonishing!" muttered the gentleman, and then speaking aloud, "Why, he and I were friends when we were boys!" Having asked the way to the vicarage that he might call upon him, the visitor went his way.

The meeting between the two old boyish acquaintances was very interesting, but when the gentleman stated the circ.u.mstance of his meeting with the clerk, Mr. h.o.a.re replied, "You have made arrangements about your body; have you been as diligent about your soul?" It soon came out that, brought up, like his old friend, as a Quaker, but without his religious advantages, he had drifted into open scepticism. Now, however, the loving, earnest words that he heard made a great impression, and he begged Mr. h.o.a.re to come and visit him.

Several weeks pa.s.sed by, and one day the clerk received a message from his Vicar, "There will be an adult baptism in the service to-morrow."

His feelings can be imagined when he saw quietly standing by the font the gentleman whom he had seen in the cemetery! the defiant, cheery manner gone, but instead of that a peaceful, happy look upon his face. The illness soon progressed, but his friend of olden days visited him continually up to the end, and had the joy of knowing that he died resting happily upon his Saviour. In his will he bequeathed to Mr. h.o.a.re the valuable proof copy of Landseer's picture "Saved," as a significant memento of what he had been permitted to do for his old friend.

The writer once heard it remarked of a certain clergyman that his many curates were like so many sentinels posted over the country to warn people of the danger of approaching him! The exact reverse was the case with Canon h.o.a.re: if any one wished to get an enthusiastic description of the Vicar, they had only to go to one of his past or present curates. He was "a hero to his valets": so considerate and thoughtful of their wants and circ.u.mstances, and yet so vigilant about their work, knowing exactly how it was done, and never failing to notice an omission, yet doing it all so kindly. The quarter's cheque was always enclosed in an envelope, with a slip of paper on which were written words like these, "With many thanks for all your invaluable help."

This may be a trifling thing, but it means a great deal. Canon h.o.a.re was like a father to his curates, and was beloved by them; he never lost an opportunity of putting them forward, and if need be of standing up in their defence. There are some who remember well an incident at a general meeting of subscribers to the hospital many years ago. Some one present had spoken very wrongly and impertinently of one of the curates, making suggestions of evil in his remarks.

At the close of the speeches that followed, the chairman got up. He was watched closely as he slowly took off his overcoat, and with great deliberation folded it up and placed it on the back of his chair. The room was very still as, drawing himself to his full height and looking keenly round the room, he fixed his gaze upon the former speaker, and gave him in words the most terrible castigation that the unfortunate individual ever received in his life. It was well administered, and equally well deserved.

The fact that in all parochial work he was leader, not director-saying "Come" instead of "Go"-was one of the causes of his influence with his curates. It is related that at some wedding in the parish church, when the bridegroom, a stranger to the place, was paying the fees in the vestry, he made the remark, "I think the man who does the work ought to get the pay." This greatly tickled the two curates present, who could not help laughing at the idea of their Vicar seated in his arm-chair while they laboured in the parish, and simultaneously both exclaimed, "The Vicar does more than both of us put together!"

The simplicity of the services at Holy Trinity have been already noticed.

The preacher wore the black gown, not that he had any objection to the surplice in the pulpit, as he used that dress without hesitation in other churches, but because he felt that he was too old to make changes. "I knew many of the old Evangelical Fathers," he used to say; "I preached Charles Simeon's funeral sermon in his own church at Cambridge; so that I feel as if I were connected with them, and I will keep up the old gown which I have been used to all my life."