become subdivided, and the great danger which ever attends extensive bearings of timber, when merely supported by two walls, which seldom receive more than a single foot in length at each extremity of the beams, avoided.

Where the span of the roof is large, fir timber is generally resorted to; because the immense distance from wall to wall in these edifices leaves the parties who erect them no choice; oak, or other timber, is not to be found sufficiently long to extend across the area intended to be covered. But fir is not the most durable timber, and there are species of fir timber which soon decay. Carpenters in general know that a particular kind of the red fir is the most endurable. But when immense beams are wanted, and the best quality is not at hand, the length of a piece of inferior fir timber, which offers at the time, is frequently a sufficient temptation, during the haste of an erection, to induce the parties to place it upon the building, instead of taking pains to search out, or waiting until timber of the first quality offers. Who can inform us how many of these inferior beams, loaded with immense weights of roofing, impend weekly over the heads of vast congregations throughout Great Britain?

Within the last half century, numerous indeed are the erections in these islands, where immense beams of fir extend in parallel lines over vast areas, from wall to wall, without a single collateral support to divide their bearings. That these beams will suspend over the areas they cover the immense weights with which many of them are loaded, to the end of time, is too much for the most credulous to suppose; every one of us has arrived at one conclusion, viz. they must fail at some period of time; and I conceive we have arrived at that period of time when some of these immense unsupported roofs may fail. Forty years, yea, thirty, are an ordeal sufficiently severe for ill-selected fir timber; and, to suppose that every beam is perfect when these years have elapsed, is rather a presumption than a safe conclusion; and if, as has been already stated, the failure of a single principal beam might bring down a roof, a catastrophe which cannot be contemplated without the utmost horror, it cannot be deemed impertinent to call the attention of all concerned to so serious a subject; it is this consideration which has induced me to pen these observations, and forward them for insertion in your widely circulated work. Roofs of this description, above all others, ought to be thoroughly

examined from year to year, and whenever symptoms of decay appear, effectual remedies ought to be resorted to forthwith; because, of all other other roofs, the dangers attendant on neglect or delay in those are most eminent.

The most effectual remedy, with which I am acquainted, is the plan already noted as a preventive of this danger; viz. the placing of cast iron columns over the heads of the gallery columns to the under sides of the principal beams. This so effectually divides the bearings of these beams, and of course so effectually supports the roof, that if even the ends of some of the principal beams were to rot off, the roof would not fall in, unless the thrusting of a loose principal threw down the wall; and, even then, the falling in of the roof would not be total, but only partial. In the event of the gallery columns, in an old church or chapel, not being immediately below the principal beams, then beams might be placed over the heads of these columns, and the upper columns placed thereon; or the upper columns might be placed upon each of the gallery columns, and beams carried over their heads from principal beam to principal beam, in one or more lengths, from end to end of the ceiling; and these might be ornamented with cornices similar to those on the walls and ceiling. Iron braces should also be carried from sound portions of the principal beams, to the feet of each principal, or from the foot of one principal to the foot of the other upon the beam, in order to prevent, in the event of the beamends rotting off, the principals from thrusting out the walls.

Another remedy might be resorted to, but one which is by no means equal to the first proposed; viz. cast iron brackets, similar to the knees which support the beams of a ship's deck, might be placed within the edifice beneath the principal beams, so as to support these beams, in the event of their ends, on which they exclusively rest, becoming unsound; but, in giving these brackets their rest or bearing in the wall, great caution is needful, lest the wall itself should be damaged. These iron brackets ought to have the perpendicular end thrice the length of the bearing end, at least; because, in the event of a heavy pressure on the extremity of the bearing end, the perpendicular end would act as a lever to thrust out the wall of the edifice; but, if this end was thrice the length of the bearing end, the lever would be so far decreased thereby, that its action would not be dangerous. A strap of iron'

643

should also be carried round the throat of each bracket over the wall plate, to some distance down the outside of the wall, and there bolted in, in order to prevent the separation of the knee from the wall. If the mould, from which these brackets were cast, was ornamented, and the brackets themselves painted, they would not be disgusting objects, even within an elegant building.

Other remedies will suggest themselves to builders, and may be resorted to according to circumstances; but, as a general preventive of danger, I sincerely recommend, in every new edifice of great dimensions, columns to be erected from the foundation to the underside of every principal beam, in the way already noted, wherever it is practicable.

WM. COLDWell.

King Square, April 7, 1828.

ABRAHAM AND TERAH'S IDOLS. AMONG the romantic traditions which have been transmitted to us in the Jewish legends, Mr. David Levi, in his Lingua Sacra, relates the following amusing tale, the origin of which is buried in antiquity, too remote to be explored.

"I cannot omit taking notice of what is related in Medrash Berishith concerning this patriarch Abraham; especially as it shews his fortitude and reliance on the protection of the Supreme Being; and at the same time exhibits the rational method which he pursued in endeavouring to wean mankind from that gross idolatry and superstition into which they were plunged.

"Terah, the father of Abraham, was an idolater, and likewise a maker of idols, and a dealer in them, in which branches he carried on an extensive trade. It is probable that Abraham in early life was brought up to the same profession, but his mind being enlightened from on high, he saw the folly and wickedness of their calling, and resolved to seize an early opportunity of exposing it to contempt.

644

being overwhelmed with shame, hung down his head; and, after pausing a little, departed without making a purchase. In a similar manner he served several customers; and doing no business, had not his father speedily returned, the trade would have been inevitably ruined.

"While Abraham was thus musing on his situation, and lamenting over the follies of his countrymen, an old woman came to the shop with a mess of pottage, as an offering to the gods, where they were exposed for sale. Having received this glaring proof of ignorance and superstition, Abraham was so exasperated, that he took a stick, and actually broke in pieces all the idols, except the largest, and left the fragments scattered over the floor. He then put the stick into the hands of the large idol, giving it a menacing attitude, and in this state of things waited the return of his father.

"Terah on his arrival perceiving the dreadful havoc that had been made in his stock, inquired of Abraham how this strange disaster happened? Abraham then informed him that an old woman having brought a mess of pottage as an offering to the gods, they being hungry, immediately fell together by the ears; that a severe contention for the prize instantly ensued; that in the conflict, the large idol had been victorious, had broken the others in pieces, and now held the instrument of their destruction in his hand, as a memorial of triumph and a signal of defiance.

"Specious as this account might seem, Terah was too well acquainted with the materials of which his idols were composed, to be imposed on by its plausibility. He felt all the force of the satire, saw the dangerous crisis to which his craft was brought, and perceived that his son had embraced some very heretical notions. Exasperated at this complication of disasters, he immediated applied to Nimrod, and, having stated his case, requested that Abraham might be cited to appear before him, to receive punishment for the contempt he had shewn to the gods.

Nimrod, on hearing the case, and having Abraham brought into his presence, commanded him to worship the fire; but Abraham answered, that it "would be more rational to worship the water which extinguishes the fire." "Then," said Nimrod, "worship the water." "I think," replied Abraham, "it were better to worship the clouds which furnish the water." Nimrod then ordered him to "worship the clouds." To this Abraham replied, that "it would be still better to worship

I must

the wind, which disperses the clouds." Nimrod then bade him "worship the wind." Abraham again replied, that "it would be preferable to worship man, who is able to endure the winds." On hearing this, Nimrod observed; 66 Well, I perceive your intention is to deride me. therefore tell you briefly, that I worship none but the fire, and if you do not do the same, you shall be immediately thrown therein, and then I shall see whether the god you worship will come to your relief." Having thus said, Abraham was immediately thrown into a furnace of fire.

While these transactions were taking place, Nimrod and Terah questioned Haran concerning his faith. His answer was, "If Abraham comes safely from the fire, I will be of his; but if not, I will be of Nimrod's." On hearing this, Nimrod ordered him to be immediately thrown into the furnace, which being done, he was instantly consumed, while Abraham came out of the fire without receiving the slightest injury.

"This statement agrees with Gen. xi. 28. 'And Haran died before (or in the presence of) his father Terah, in the land of his nativity, Ur, (in the fire,) of the Chaldees;' for it was by means of the accusation which Terah exhibited against Abraham, that Haran suffered death; so that he may justly be said to have died in the presence of his father. Here is an admirable lesson for mankind; which clearly points out the difference between those who serve the Lord in truth and sincerity, and those who are lukewarm, and easily turned to that which seems most profitable in this world. This transaction, the author of Shalsheleth Hakabala says, took place in the seventieth year of Abraham's age."

POETRY.

(For the Imperial Magazine.)

LINES,

Respectfully inscribed to the Rev. George Redford, M. A. minister of Angel-street Chapel, Worcester, on his Sermon from Proverbs xix. 2, by his affectionate brother and faithful servant, JOSHUA MARSDEN.

WHERE SHALL WISDOM BE FOUND?
JOB XXviii. 12.

DEAR REDFORD, wisely you maintain,
That Ignorance is half a sin;

That want of mind, like dearth of rain,
Makes all a barren waste within.

You said, nor topaz golden hue,
Nor gold fair Ophir's shores supply,
Nor ruby red, nor sapphire blue,
Can with celestial Wisdom vie.

But where, alas! is Wisdom found?
On verdant plain, or shady wood?
In depth of mine, or height of mound?
Or in the ocean's hoary flood?

The mine, with all its treasur'd ores,
Exclaims, "In me it is not known!"
"And not in me," old ocean roars!
"Though pearl and coral deck my throne."

I sought her in the hermit's cell,
Far from the world's alluring glare;
But there, alas! she did not dwell!
I only found the fiend Despair.
Monks bade me with assurance go,
Monastic cloisters to explore;
But there 'twas Superstition, who
The garb of heavenly Wisdom wore.
To courts and camps I quickly hied,
And there in vain for Wisdom ask,
For Luxury, Ambition, Pride,
Vile trio, only wore the mask.

Some said, to make the nation wise,
To polish and reform the age,
She had assum'd an actor's guise,
And now was seen upon the stage.
Not fond of the histrionic art,
Yet still resolved to urge my chase,
I ran to folly's crowded mart,
And found her mimic in Grimace.

Bards said, with love of verse inspired,
She sought the far Aonian shade;
And as a minstrel nymph was hired,
The Grecian muses' waiting-maid.
The muses' bower I soon attain'd,
And thought at length my point was hit;
But there I information gained,
The ladies' maid was mistress Wit.
Where Cam and Isis gently rove,

I sought the nymph so much renown'd,
Through school and cloister, hall, and grove,
But she was not on classic ground.

Apostates from God's grace, to wit,"
Doctors and gownsmen, great and small,
Upon her throne bade Learning sit,
And turn'd the maiden from the ball.
These said, she lived among the law,
So to the courts behold me running!
But there I no Sophia saw,

The long-robed dame was madam Cunning.
To that fair college I repair,

Where grave physicians take degrees;
But she was not admitted there,

Because she could not pay the Fees.

I sought her, but I found no trace
In rural life, in sylvan bowers,
There churlish Avarice fill'd her place,
And Wisdom fled the fields and flowers!
And still from place to place 1 range,
The busy fair, the crowded burse ;
Some said she was upon the change,
But Wealth, not Wisdom, kept the purse.

These said, she was an F.R.S.
Whose fame is heard in every zone;
How great my disappointment, guess,
I found 'twas Science fill'd the throne.

This gains the plaudit of the day,
But that is dear in Jesu's sight;
She shines with ever-during ray,
And brightest in affliction's night.
Titles, diplomas, and the rest,
May lustre add to men of parts;
But Wisdom is the lonely guest
Of humble men, with honest hearts.

And there I found her in a cot,

With truth, and love, and faith, residing;
Contented with a lowly lot,

And near the Cross of Christ abiding.

Skylark, thrush, and blackbird, singing,
Silver streams and emerald meads:
Crocus budding, primrose springing,
Fail to bind a heart that bleeds.
Bloom embroiders every bower,
Music thrills from copse and grove;
Beauty tinges every flower;
Nature sings the hymn of love.
But amid creation's gladness,
Florid garden, orchard's bloom,
All within is wrapt in sadness,
Till salvation's joys illume.
From the Ram the sun emerges,
Shedding lustre o'er the lawn;
Nature laughs, but grace in dirges
Mourns the living sun withdrawn.
Snowy bloom may deck the hedges,
Lowly violets scent the gale;
These to sorrow bring no pledges,
Jesu's promise cannot fail.
"Tis the tone of peace internal,
O'er the landscape gladness throws,
Heightens every beauty vernal,
Adds new sweetness to the rose.

JOSHUA MARSDEN.

HARMONY OF THE HEAVENS; OR, MUSIC
OF THE SPHERES.

HARK! what harmony I hear,
Bursting on my ravish'd ear,
From the universal sphere,

Where their shining ranks advance :
First the Sun, in glory bright,
Next the lesser orbs of light,
In one chorus all unite,

To perform their mystic dance.

;

Its due distance each observes,
Nor from its own station swerves,
Though performing many curves,
Each its proper place maintains
Mercury receives the rays
Of the sun's immediate blaze,
And his Maker's power displays,
Yet he unconsum'd remains.
Venus next, with lovely face,
Joins the planetary race,
True to time, she keeps her place,
Adding lustre to our night:
Next our Earth the concert joins,
Yet she never breaks the lines,
While to other worlds she shines,
With bright Sol's reflected light.
Next commences red-faced Mars,
Falsely charged with causing wars,
Keeps in tune, and never jars,

Midst the other orbs of light: 'Mong the tributary stars, Belted Jupiter appears,

Light, from his seven moons, still cheers
His too long protracted night.
Saturn next, with lucid rings,
Scarce to us his radiance flings,
And with wide-expanded wings,
Traverses the azure way:

Great his distance from the sun,
Long before his circuit's done,
Seven moons around him run,

Scarce behold their glimmering ray.
Herschel with amazing rounds,
Our unaided sight confounds,
Yet amid the dance he bounds,

Swift along the liquid skies. See our friendly Moon appear, Bringing up the shining rear, Her mild rays our orbit cheer,

And Sol's absent light supplies.

Who the Comet's path can trace?
Running his elliptic race,
Through illimitable space,

Centuries, ere his circuit's done;
Nations raise their wond'ring eyes
To the stranger in the skies,
And intestine wars surmise,

Till absorb'd in the bright sun.
But the twinkling lustres there,
Each within its own bright sphere,
Other worlds and systems cheer,
With their mighty influence;
What amazing power Divine,
Fixt them there, and bade them shine,
Where can mortals draw the line?
Or confine Omnipotence!

THE INFANT.

648

Номо.

She sees all the graces and virtues delighting,
To polish his soul with the lessons of truth,
And fancies the hero with vices is fighting,
While still in his cradle, or blooming in youth.
Her care and her trouble she never can measure,
Nor ever is weary of tending her charge;
Her prayers oft ascend, and she calls him her
treasure,

And longs for the time when his mind will enlarge:

His mind is enlarged, and he hears her instruction,
And lovely simplicity smiles on his cheek;
And still he is guarded from vice's seduction,
And still he is gentle, submissive, and meek.
But quickly, too quickly! he leaves her embrace
And launches his bark on the ocean so wide;
And then his dear image how oft she retraces,
And hopes that kind Heaven will still be his
guide:

The storms then arise, and the waves are fast swelling,

Tumultuous passions destroy his sweet peace; Bewilder'd and fearful, he thinks of the dwelling, Where innocent pleasures did ever increase. Seductions surround him, and vices are active, To draw him aside from the ways of the pure; He hears the soft Syrens with notes so attractive, And listens, till virtues no longer allure: No longer he thinks of his parents with gladness, But spends all his substance in riotous mirth, And boasts he shall pass through his life without sadness,

Then yield up his breath, and be mingled with earth.

As a palace rais'd up by the spell of a fairy,

Where revellings last all the hours of the night, Where splendour is glitter, and viands are airy, But the whole is a dream at the dawn of the light:

So pleasure soon left him, and Vice with her creatures,

And gloomy diseases, all crowded around; His former companions had lost their gay features, And leaden despondency sat on the ground,

The gold which had glitter'd, no longer attracted, The wine that had sparkled, to poison was turn'd;

By the voice from within, his soul was distracted, And the fire of remorse in his bosom now

burn'd:

With penitent grief then he thinks of the pleasure,
Which he joyfully tasted within the abode,
Where his parents had call'd him their darling
and treasure,
[rode.
When oft on their knees, and with rapture, he
He looks up to Heaven :-"Why here do I perish?'
He cries," I will go to my father again;
Perhaps my fond mother my bosom will cherish,
And wipe off my tears, and relieve my sad pain."
But scarcely he reaches the sweet habitation,

Where innocent joys had encircled his head; When his father beholds him with glad exultation, And runs to embrace him, as raised from the dead.

He clothes and he feasts him, nor thinks of his errors,

And opens the stores of his fatherly love; He binds up his wounds, and removes all his ter rors,

And points to the throne of all mercy above: Then wisdom before him displays all her beauty, He sees she is peace, while transgression is hard;

That none can be happy while erring from duty, That none but the foolish her lessons discard. His breast is now peaceful, his griefs are suspended;

Religion conducts him to realms of delight; She leads him to ONE, who in mercy descended,

To bring wretched mortals to worlds ever bright. Sweet pleasures surround him, and soothe all his

sorrow,

Faith fixes his step, and Hope brightens his eye, The day is all tranquil, his care for the morrow Is fix'd upon Him who is glorious on high. And when his flesh fails, and he sinks to the regions, [repose, Where the dead are laid slumbering in peaceful He yields up his spirit, and heavenly legions Guide it up to that spring which unceasingly flows:

To pain and distraction his soul is a stranger,
The notes of the angels now ravish his ear;
No more is he harass'd with trouble or danger,
And joys everlasting before him appear.
Clipston, April 5, 1828.

LINES

J. B.

Addressed to the Spirit of a departed Friend. Go, gentle spirit, to the realms of day, Unshrouded from the body's clay,

This painful load of sin;

Now thou canst gaze on Jesus' face,
And sing aloud of sov'reign grace,
Uncheck'd by war within.

O, if thy happy spirit there]
Can think on me, a prisoner here,
Attend my lowly cry;

Watch over the unguarded hour,
And when assail'd by satan's pow'r,
Assist my soul to fly.
Remember me, still kept below,
A captive in this world of woe,

I chant the mournful strain;
Unlike thy notes, which ceaseless flow,
Mine are too often check'd below
By sorrow, guilt, and pain.
O, when I draw my latest sigh,
Then let thy hov'ring shade be nigh,
Unseen watch o'er my bed;
And when the signal shall be given,
To waft my peaceful soul to heaven,
Point to my risen Head.

115.-VOL. X.

As compared with those of CHILDHOOD.
HUMAN hopes, and human fears,
Vary not, from childhood's years;
Mid the sunny path of youth,
Fiction wears the garb of truth.
All his hopes are gilded toys,
That can give no real joys;
Like a butterfly on wing,

Each wafting gale seems fav'ring.
Dreaming not of change of scene,
Storm, or cloud, to intervene ;
Pleasures to the youthful eye,
Transient as the cloudless sky.
Like a bubble blown in air,
With its rainbow tints so fair;
Or a passing pageantry,
Cheating to the gazer's eye.
Years roll on-yet still the same;
Man pursues a nobler game;
So 'tis deem'd,-yet try its worth:
Is't not grovelling, as the earth?
Man's a child of larger growth,
Trifles have a charm for both;
Honour, riches, glory, fame,
These are but an empty name.
Yet how anxious they are sought;
Few too dearly deem them bought:
Not the truant schoolboy vies
More eagerly to surprise
Insect, fluttering on the wing,
In its gaudy colouring,
Than doth he who seeks for fame,
Glory, with its glittering name.
Wealth a Croesus could bestow;
Honour with its empty show;
These are trifles, light as air:
Are they not as fleeting, fair?
January 1, 1823.

I. S. H.

REVIEW.-The -Life and Opinions of John de Wycliffe, D. D. 2 Vols. 8vo. pp. 456-460. By Robert Vaughan. Holdsworth. London. 1828. We have many names among us of high and deserved celebrity in the theological world, but not one so elevated in the region of hoary grandeur as that of Wycliffe, whose eventful life forms the basis of the volumes now before us.Nursed on the lap of superstition, which age had rendered venerable, and common opinion had made formidable, his active and penetrating mind pierced the clouds with which he was surrounded; and, with a courage equal to his discernment, he set his face against the errors which every where prevailed. Armed with integrity, piety, and the Bible, he came nobly forward against a host of foes, and lodged in its cradle the infant Reformation, which was afterwards destined, like a mighty giant, to attack popery in its strongest holds, and

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