Some men are in great request as preachers and speakers outside their parishes, but for some reason or other they are not very useful at home. It was not so with the subject of this memoir. The prophet in this case was honoured in his own country. On Sunday mornings, three-quarters of an hour before service began, many aged and poor parishioners might be seen making their way into the church to secure good seats. In Holy Trinity the free seats are more in number than those that are appropriated, and some of the former are in the best part of the church; all these were filled long before the hour for the commencement of service. As eleven o’clock drew near the congregation were in their places, and the aisles were filled with strangers in every available spot waiting in the hope of some possible seat. It was a common thing in the summer for as many as a hundred to go away unable to get accommodation. The writer well remembers the profound impression which the Sundays used to make upon his mind. The old Vicar and his curates were in the vestry in good time robed and ready; {174} having knelt in prayer, there was a silent interval, and exactly to the moment when the clock in the tower struck, the vestry door was opened and they passed out into the church. Sometimes this was a slow work, as the people stood close together; some were sitting on the pulpit stairs, and the clergy had to thread their way to the chancel rails. When service began the cushions at the rails were all occupied by worshippers kneeling upon them. Canon Hoare generally took part in the service, which was conducted in the simple old-fashioned way, read, not “toned down” in the manner now so prevalent. When the preacher ascended the high pulpit it was an impressive thing to see that great congregation, over sixteen hundred in number, ranged beneath in the body of the building and around him in the deep galleries, waiting for his words. His prayer before the sermon was a very striking one, and it was always in the following words: “Almighty God, our Heavenly Father, who hast purchased to Thyself an universal Church by the precious blood of Thy dear Son, and hast promised that the Holy Spirit should abide with us for ever: may we now enjoy His sacred presence! May He direct the word which shall now be spoken, and apply it with Divine power to all our hearts, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” Those sermons were wonderful, delivered so well that few could believe them to be written discourses, which they were; with changes of tone which made the sentences impress themselves upon the memory; the manner so solemn, as befitted the ambassador, and yet so pleading, as became the father. The eloquent language attracted the intellectual mind, and the remarkable simplicity of expression appealed to the simplest understanding. The _matter_ of these sermons was, however, their great charm.