LOW SPIRITS AND OTHER SERMONS.* THE present reviewer cannot pretend

to give what is generally regarded as an impartial estimate of this little volume. His near relationship to the writer, and his personal knowledge of

his character, necessarily give to the thirty short sermons which it contains a meaning and effect which the ordinary reader, who could judge of them only by what he reads, might not easily find in them, and of course, therefore, the literary force of the sermons may well be enhanced in the reviewer's mind by knowledge derived from other sources than the sermons themselves. It is only right that this acknowledgment should be made ; but it is obvious that this sort of knowledge of the character of the writer is an advantage rather than a disad- vantage for every purpose except the accurate estimate of the impression which the volume would be likely to produce on the mind of a stranger. Such personal knowledge is an advantage, not a disadvantage, for the purpose of judging what the effect on those who heard the sermons and knew the writer probably was, though it may be pos- sibly a disqualification for the purpose of estimating its effect on others. It may be safely asserted that if these ser- mons should seem to those who only read them in any degree wanting in reality and intensity of purpose, that want must have been much more than supplied by the simplicity, the earnestness, the humility, the depth of feeling, by which the life and manner of the preacher gave them their due signifi- cance.

The sermon on " Low Spirits," with which the volame opens, was evidently characteristic not only of the physique of the writer, which will account too easily for his early death, but of the kind of temptation with which he had most frequently to struggle, and with which his struggle was most earnest and most successful. But the prominent place given to that sermon in the volume would mislead the hasty reader, if it led him to anticipate anything like pallor or dimness of spiritual effect. All through these sermons there runs an enthusiastic reverence for the late Dean of St. Paul's (with whom, however, Mr. Hutton had no personal acquaint- ance), which found expression in some touching verses pub- lished in these columns in the week of the Dean's death. These express so well the character of the writer, that we

cannot do better than extract three of the verses here to illustrate the clearness and reality of his vision into the spiritual themes on which he preached :—

" Too great to praise in idle song,

They best revere his name Who learn the lessons that he taught them long By voice or book the same.

• Low Spirits, and Other Sermons. By the late William Richmond Hutton, M.A., Rector Designate of Lower Hardres, Canterbury, formerly Curate of St. Michael's, Helston, and of St. Stephen's, BirkstalL London ; Itivington, Percival, sad Co.

To curb the impulse that misleads, The temper that betrays, Only to think the thoughts, to do the deeds That swell the song of Praise : To hope when shadows darken fast This life of doubt and sin ; To find from humbling lessons of the past Strength and self-discipline."

That is not the expression of a colourless or faint-spirited

nature, but rather of one of no little depth of sympathy and insight.

And this, too, is the tone which runs through these ser- mons,—a tone of refined humility, of restrained but deep sensibility, of quick sympathy with the griefs and joys of others, of profound though tranquil devotion. Low spirits were Mr. Hutton's most serious trial ; but low spirits with him did not mean feeble imagination or half-felt sym- pathies, but only a keen sense of the difficulty or even im- possibility of putting forth that energy of active endeavour which he strove so earnestly to attain. One of Mr. Hutton's happiest qualities as a preacher lay in his choice of texts. Occasionally, perhaps, he chose a text too re- mote from his subject, though connected with it by a chain of thought which was very real to himself. But in general, while the connection stirred powerfully his own imagination, it was by no means remote from his subject. For instance, he chose for his sermon on low spirits the text which shows, of all others, how deeply he felt both the acute misery which dejection can produce, and the moral evil which there is in yielding to it—namely, the verse from the 139th Psalm, which seems to suggest that the writer of that psalm might himself have suffered from this over- whelming feeling of dejection, "Though I go down to hell, thou art there also." In the next place, though there is some- thing which stirs the imagination of the reader in the author's choice of a text, there is a most earnest and straightforward simplicity in his treatment of his subject. Here, for instance, is a short passage illustrating his treatment of the hypo- chondriac's disposition to make the most, instead of the least, of his low spirits :—

" I think we are too ready to look upon low spirits as an in- firmity, and nothing more. In its earlier stages it certainly is so. At times we can no more avoid its horrible grasp than we can avoid the cutting east wind which seems to freeze our blood. But just as there is shelter from the wind after we have reached the point we were walking to, so I think it is fair to say that God provides us shelter from this dark foe : sometimes by prayer,. sometimes by a friend's society, often by work which usually drives it away for a time. But to continue the simile, some of us are like men who persist in walking about in the east wind long after shelter is within reach. We indulge in the luxury of grief ; we refuse to see the sun, though it has come from behind the clouds ; we walk on still in darkness, a darkness of our own making. In such a case, low spirits become sinful, and we must no longer plead excuse. It is our bounden duty to make others happy, and we are neglecting this because we are not happy our- selves. It is no less our bounden duty to thank God ; we cannot do so because we are not thankful." (p. 5.)

In like manner compare the sermon on the imperceptible character of all true growth with the text taken from the account in the Book of Kings of the building of Solomon's Temple : " There was neither hammer nor axe nor any too) of iron heard in the house while it was in building ; " and note especially how thoroughly simple, how free from all rhetorical affectation is the application of this metaphor to his subject :—

" The best penitents are those whose penitence does not wear- out, but is always an undercurrent in their daily lives. You call him a fool who starts for a long race at his greatest speed, and he who is most demonstrative in his first repentance will often be found afterwards among the backsliders.

'Prime thou thy words, the thoughts control That o'er thee swell and throng ; They will condense within thy soul, And change to purpose strong.'

' There was neither hammer nor axe nor any tool of iron heard in the house while it was in building.' God demands repentance- -not a noisy one,.but such as will last till death. He demands it from us who are never worthy to be called His sons. It is in the silent times with God that He will best see the state of man's heart. He does not ask for shrieks, but for pain which makes men sober and more reverent. 'Never so safe as when our will yields undiscerned by all but God." (pp. 89-90.) Again, take the sermon on " A Wet Harvest," the text of which is taken from Ezra : " It is a time of much rain," and observe the perfect simplicity and earnestness with which the rural congregation are taught that the heart which cannot

be thankful when its hopes are in some respects disappointed, is never likely to be thankful when its hopes are much more than fulfilled :—

"' It is a time of much rain' We come to our Harvest Thanks- giving, and we have been dismayed by the floods that have done so much to damage all that was not gathered in. Day after day, men have been waiting to work, and still the drizzling showers or the rushing downpour has kept Clem from the fields. It has been with us a time of much rain. And yet we are here to thank .God, and we do well. It is our bounden duty. We do not apolo- gise for a Harvest Thanksgiving, but say plainly, if we cannot thank God for giving us a harvest at all, we are unworthy of being called his sons. What we ought to ask ourselves is this : When times were good and the seasons good, how did we show our gratitude? Did we show it by our lives ? For if we only show it by eating and drinking more, and by rude merry-making, we can hardly wonder that we should not always be likewise blessed. At Heslerton, on Wednesday, the preacher told us a story of man's ingratitude. Two boys in Cheshire went to see a farmer when the season had been particularly good. ' I wonder what he'll find to complain of now P they said, as they passed through the sunny fields. ' Well, farmer,' they cried out, you have had a capital season' The farmer's brow clouded as he pointed indignantly to a little patch of beans. Look at these beans ! ' he said. Are there not some like him among us, always ready to complain, seldom ready to give thanks ? Well, look around you,' says the grumbler,' at the swollen rivers, the sheets of water in the fields, the damaged crops and the deluged gardens' True, things have gone badly, but I would ask you to remember what we have escaped as well as what we have suffered. It was only a few weeks ago when all over England men were trembling at the approach of a hideous disease which was slaying its thousands across the sea. One of our Yorkshire papers began a leading article with these words, `The cholera fiend is among us.' Day after day we did not know what the next day's news might be. In England we knew what the cholera could do, for six and twenty years ago it had ravaged our land, and not for the first time either. And what sort of disease was it ? A man would suddenly turn pale, clench his teeth and draw a deep breath : in two hours more he would be blue : in four he would be a corpse. And where is the cholera now ? Gone. We have escaped it, thank God. We, who might have lost our lives or our friends, are here to-night in health and strength. If we cannot thank God for his mercy we are unworthy of the Christian name." (pp. 70-72.) But perhaps the quality that is most interesting in these sermons is their combination of poetical feeling with a terse- ness and brevity which seems to show something like repul- sion for that diffuseness with which men conscious of poetical feeling, usually dilate on the sentiment in which they exult. There is no sign in these sermons that the preacher felt any glow of satisfaction at the many poetical touches which they betray. He just dropped his touches of poetry, as he dropped his practical illustrations, without the smallest diffuseness, with- out any indication that he attached more value to them than to

any others, and then he proceeds on to his main point. Take, for instance, the sermon on "Heaven," with which the volume concludes, and its beautiful text from the 106th Psalm in the Prayer-book version, " Yea, they thought scorn of that pleasant land, and gave no credence unto his word," and notice how wholly without the preacher's professional unction, how simply and straightforwardly Mr. Hutton presses home his conviction of the illusions of sense, and of the foolish scorn with which we are apt to treat that which is beyond and above the senses :—

" The Israelites in the wilderness are a recognised illustration of the Christian's walk through the world. As our beautiful Baptismal Service tells us, the new birth by water and the Holy Spirit is prefigured by the passage of the Red Sea. The Promised Land is a type of heaven. Is it not true, then, of thousands of Christians who have passed through the water, who have set their faces towards a better home, that, after a time, they think scorn of that pleasant land, and give no credence unto God's word? The reasons are the same as with the children of Israel. The land is difficult to reach, and they will not believe in the pleasures 'that it holds because they cannot see them. We speak of heaven at times, not always, with the reverence the subject should in- spire : we sing of heaven in hymns of which some are most unreal; but how much, dear brethren, do we think of heaven ? and how much preparation are we making to live there, not for a season or a term of years, but through ages which do not end ? We -read of this place, of this pleasant land, in the words of the saints of old ; we wonder, and turn away : it is like a dream when one awaketh, so soon passeth it away:. yet these strange -things are told of it by one to whom God gave spiritual sight, that there is no night there, and no curse, no hunger, no thirst, no death, and no pain ; and the hosts that shall dwell there are they who have passed through great tribulation and have been purified. ' Yea, they thought scorn of that pleasant land, and gave no credence unto His word.' " (pp. 193-4.) It is not often that a writer of so much genuine poetical

feeling uses it so simply and exclusively for the higher pur- poses of his spiritual teaching, and lays so little emphasis on his own finer suggestions. The slight sketch of him, however, in his brother's touching preface, will bring out the humility and modesty of Mr. W. R. Hutton's mind.