The Proportions of Truth — Reading Companion

Proportion as a Theological Method

Hoare does not merely assert that proportion matters; he treats it as a structural principle for evaluating doctrine. The pamphlet moves from general analogy to specific application, repeatedly asking whether a given teaching occupies the same place in Scripture that its advocates assign it. This method is visible in his treatment of sacramental confession: he notes that the Apostles gave no hint of the practice, and challenges readers to consider whether they have mistaken the words of Christ. The same pattern recurs with propitiatory sacrifice—Hoare searches the New Testament for a priest, an altar, or a sacrificial rubric and finds none, concluding that the entire system hangs on an unproven sense given to two simple Greek words. His argumentative structure mirrors the proportion he advocates: each doctrine is weighed against its biblical evidence, and the weight of the evidence must match the weight of the claim.

The Spectrum of Doctrinal Error

The light analogy recurs as a controlling image. Hoare writes that to disturb the proportion of white light, one need not introduce any new element—simply keep back a part or isolate a colour. This becomes a model for how error arises in theology: not by adding falsehood but by exaggerating one truth until it overwhelms others. He applies this to the real presence, admitting that if the doctrine were true, no adoration could be too profound. Yet he finds that the Apostles never alluded to it, and the only texts forced into service teach separation of body and blood rather than union in a living person. The spectrum metaphor thus does double work: it explains the origin of error and provides a test for any doctrine—does it preserve the full range of biblical teaching, or does it isolate one colour at the expense of the rest?

Movement from General Principle to Specific Controversy

The pamphlet's structure moves deliberately from the abstract to the concrete. Hoare begins with Pascal's maxim, then builds a series of analogies (art, nature, music, light) before declaring that the same principle applies to the truth of God. Only after establishing this framework does he turn to the specific controversies of his day: sacramental confession, propitiatory sacrifice, and the real presence. Each topic is introduced with a phrase like 'Turn next to sacrifice,' signalling a clear progression. The movement is not random but follows a logic of increasing specificity, from the nature of truth itself to the most contentious points of Anglican ritualist practice. This structure reinforces the argument: the reader is led to see that the same principle of proportion governs both the general and the particular.

Recurring Questions and Rhetorical Appeals

Throughout the pamphlet, Hoare employs a distinctive rhetorical pattern: he poses direct questions to his opponents, often in pairs. For the real presence, he asks two numbered questions: did the Apostles give the same proportionate place to the doctrine, and is its authority in proportion to its overwhelming interest? These questions are not rhetorical in the sense of expecting no answer; they are invitations to reconsider. Hoare also uses the phrase 'I would earnestly intreat them to consider' and variations, creating a tone of reasoned appeal rather than polemic. The questions serve as structural markers, closing each section and pointing forward to the next. They also embody the principle of proportion: the reader is asked to weigh evidence, not merely accept assertion. This method makes the pamphlet a model of the very balance it advocates.

Hoare's pamphlet is best read as a sustained exercise in applied proportion. The analogies are not decorative but functional, each one testing a different aspect of the central metaphor. Readers attentive to the movement from general principle to specific controversy will see how Hoare builds his case step by step, and how the recurring questions force a reckoning with evidence. The work rewards those who follow its argumentative structure as closely as its doctrinal conclusions.

Reading Hoare’s gentle insistence that truth lives in proportion, not possession, I thought of an old friend’s copy of The True Citizen: How to Become One — A Closer Reading on my shelf, spine cracked from patience. Both books whisper the same quiet thing—that wholeness comes from holding many parts loosely, never squeezing one until the others bleed. That stays with me.