without a strong element of what is sturdy and staunch. That side of his character found useful expression when, at the Church Congress at Derby in 1882, he was suddenly called upon to meet the suggestion of Lord Halifax that the Bishops should allow the alternative use at the Holy Communion office in the Prayer-Book of 1549. Then, in his own name and in the name of the Evangelical party, he spoke his apologia. . . . That scene illustrates the man; and though a good deal has happened since, and the Lambeth Judgment must not be forgotten, yet that interpretation of the signs of the times remains the only reasonable reading of them, and the alternative—the Reformers or Rome—is still the only possible alternative if England is to remain a Christian country. And yet, as we have said, this was an incident. “His work, his real work, was of another kind. Perhaps no other position in England would have suited him quite as well as the post he held at Tunbridge Wells. He made Tunbridge Wells the Canterbury of West Kent, and he was the unofficial primate. For forty years this watering-place, the once fashionable and frivolous resort of people half whose complaints were due to the too easy conditions of their life, has come more and more to be the home of people whose leading purpose is to find out how to do most for the Kingdom of God, and have found there that a plain English clergyman was for the most part at the back of all its missionary energies. ‘I am but one of yourselves, a presbyter,’ said Newman in his first tract. So, in his _last_ tract, might Canon Hoare have said. For forty fruitful years the overshadowing influence of a good man’s life has been a kind of visible sign of a yet higher overshadowing. Prayers and alms have marked the life of the place, and, whatever the future may have in store, there has been peace and truth in Tunbridge Wells in Canon Hoare’s days. Outside his own parish, his next most influential place was, no doubt, the Committee-room of the Church Missionary Society. There was a time, indeed, when week by week two able men came up to Salisbury Square, each in his own way exercising a powerful influence upon the Cabinet deliberations. One was the pen more than the voice, the other the voice more than the pen, of missionary counsel. But those were the days of Henry Venn, and in his days counsellors for the most part found themselves anticipated. But when those days had passed away, and the increasing missionary activity of the Church brought new conditions, new problems, new agencies, new methods into view, then came a time in which counsellors who had within them a living spring of energy, readiness of mind, elasticity, hopefulness, breadth of view, a firm belief in the future as well as a firm grip upon the past, were invaluable, and