“The span between walls is seventy-five feet. This is accounted a very ingenious and singular performance. The middle part of it is almost unchangeable in its form; but from this circumstance it does not distribute the horizontal thrust with the same regularity as the usual construction. The horizontal thrust on the tie-beam is about twice the weight of the roof, and is withstood by an iron strap below the beam, which stretches the whole width of the building in the form of a rope, making part of the ornament of the ceiling."

Fig. 3. is the roof of the chapel of Greenwich Hospital.

"The trusses are seven feet apart, and the whole is covered with lead, the boarding being supported by horizontal ledges of six by four inches. This is a beautiful roof, and contains less timber than most of its dimensions. The parts are all disposed with great judgment. Perhaps the iron rod is unnecessary, but it adds great stiffness to the whole."

Fig. 4. The present roof of St. Paul's, Covent Garden.

The internal truss, F. C. F., is admirably contrived for supporting the exterior rafters, without any pressure on the far projecting ends of the tie-beam. The former roof had bent them greatly, so as to appear ungraceful."

The difference of the pitch between the diagrams, representing the old and new roof, does not appear to be taken notice of by the writer.

Fig. 5. "The roof of the Birmingham Theatre, constructed by Mr. George Saunders. The span is eighty feet clear, and the trusses are ten feet apart."

"This is a fine specimen of British carpentry, and is one of the boldest and lightest roofs in Europe."

D

Mandement de S. E. Mgr. le Cardinal de Bonald sur la Décotion à la Sainte Vierge, et en particulier sur le Culte de l'Immaculée Conception. Lyons: de l'Imprimerie d'Antoine Perisse, Imp. de N. S. P. le Pape et de S. E. Mgr. le Cardinal-Archevêque. 1842. THOUGH we prefix this comprehensive title to the remarks we have to offer, we are far from supposing that one short paper can exhaust so great a subject. Continental Romanism is a system so vast, so complicated, so curiously mixed up of good and evil, that it would require much more space than we can spare, and much more knowledge than we can pretend to possess, in order to present it to the reader in its full and accurate proportions. Our present purpose is to say no good of it. Lest, therefore, we should be thought to take a narrow and one-sided view, we shall premise a few remarks on its favourable and honourable characteristics.

Now, in the first place, we cannot withhold our tribute of admiration to the noble christian virtues so often displayed by the religious orders. Easy, comfortable gentlemen, who roll through Europe in luxurious carriages, looking down contemptuously on monkish asceticism and austerity, and talkative young ladies, who make themselves merry at the expense of silent and secluded nuns,―are, of all persons in the world, precisely those with whom we have least sympathy. It is not merely that we feel a farmer's gratitude towards the agricultural Cistercians, to whom St. Bernard said, “Believe me, you will find more lessons in the woods than in books; trees and stones will teach you what you cannot learn from masters :"-nor a scholar's gratitude towards the rich and aristocratic Benedictines, though we cannot speak without enthusiasm of the congregation of St. Maur. We confess a certain partiality for the wandering Franciscans, even the Capuchins; albeit we do not forget what rough work they did for the Jesuits, in the times that succeeded the Reformation. In regard to the Jesuits themselves, so justly feared and suspected, is there not much truth in what was said of them in the Quarterly Review, more than twenty years ago: "They were [are] an order of men of whom, considering them at different times and in different countries, it would hardly be possible to speak worse or better than they deserved, so heinous were their misdeeds, and so great were their virtues?" "But it is not to our point to recur to the mediæval orders, or to those which were elicited (as it were) by Protestantism. We refer rather to the institutions of St. Vincent de Paul; for these grew up in the midst of Continental Romanism in its modern, settled, and Tridentine form. Who can gainsay the christianlike devotedness of the Sisters of Charity? and what have we to show in comparison? We will use the remarks made at

Quarterly Review, vol. xxvi. Jan. 1822. At that time eight years had not elapsed since their restoration, and they had attracted comparatively little notice.

Lyons by a physician and observant traveller, one who has no love to popery, and who tells us that he "prefers the Quaker worship to the Catholic."* Dr. Cumming says of the great hospital in that city:— "The whole duties are performed gratuitously by three hundred Frères et Sœurs de la Charité. ... Some of the attendants were young girls of twenty. It was strange to see them in the sombre garb of La Charité. . . In what other religion do we find so many of its professors devote their whole lives to unrequited services of charity and benevolence? Here are three hundred persons, male and female, voluntarily submitting to the strict discipline, the irksome confinement, and disgusting drudgery, of a large hospital, without other fee or reward than that derived from the approval of their own breasts. I can hardly conceive an office more irksome (unless to a mind overflowing with benevolence) than that of an hospitalnurse. In England it is one that is highly paid, and yet its duties grudgingly performed. In France, on the contrary, the Sisters of Charity do everything without pay, and, so far as my observation has extended, with a cheerfulness and tenderness to the sick not elsewhere to be found."

...

Closely connected with the monastic orders, is the high honour which the Roman church pays to poverty. We all know how poverty is put forward in Scripture, as if it had almost a sacred character; and in that light it has always been held by Roman Catholics far more than by ourselves. It is not merely that the poor are cared for, that hospitals and schools are endowed, that bread and clothes are distributed. It is that wealth has not usually that false position in the estimation of Continental Romanists, which it has with Englishmen. No man is necessarily despised because he is poor. A clergyman need not have an income sufficient to constitute him a gentleman. A Missionary Bishop can go to the ends of the earth without 1,000l. a year. To be comfortable is not the highest object of ambition; and being rich is not always the same thing with being respectable. Our social vocabulary does not fit the manners of the continent. We do not mean that there is no Mammon-worship there, no bribery, no cheating, no extortion. We are speaking of the religious system of Rome; and we do think, that in more ways than one, and in honourable contrast with our own, it may justly claim the high and distinguished honour of being the willing friend and ally of Poverty.

Whatever travellers may think on the last topic, they cannot fail to have been struck with the frequent prayers, the open churches, and

*Notes of a Wanderer in Search of Health. By W. F. Cumming, M.D.

We should be sorry to have it supposed that we are depreciating the charitable works of our own island. Few places are more Protestant than Glasgow, and in few is there more liberality. London is proverbial for its hospitals and benevolent institutions, founded by private benefactions. And so many instances of noble self-denial in these latter days rise to our mind, that we almost feel as if we were guilty of injustice in writing the above paragraph. Nevertheless, there is no denying that money has had, and still retains, a most unnatural and unchristian prominence in our social system. Since these lines were written, we have seen an admirable letter in the Times (Oct. 12th) on this subject, so far as it relates to the Clergy. The same newspaper announces a gift from Sir Robert Peel of 4,000l. to the fund for the settlement of additional Clergymen.

the constant worshippers, which they see in all the churches of the Roman obedience. As we write, we remember an incident which made a deep impression on us, some years ago, in a lone valley of the Alps. It was at Engleberg, near an ancient Benedictine convent, the bell of which awoke us at four in the morning: on looking out, we saw the peasants coming from all parts of the valley, and going towards the abbey-church; among them little children, walking alone and unattended towards the house of prayer, as if by a holy instinct. In half an hour the mass was over, and the people dispersed to their work. Who, in visiting foreign places, has not often witnessed such a spectacle? Who has not often had occasion to feel as a young poet and traveller felt, one market day at Liege?

"The market-girls went in to church,

To pray as they passed by:
Alas! that such a sight should be

So strange to an English eye."

Our churches are shut from Sunday to Sunday: and men who mean well, and might know better, rail against the notion of reopening the sanctuaries where the poor and afflicted may pray in peace, and the passer-by may at all times seek a refuge from restless and distracted thoughts.

These admissions, and more than these, we make cheerfully, willingly, and without reserve. Nothing is gained in controversy by an attempt to disguise the good points of the system we are called on to oppose, any more than by glossing over the defects of that which we wish to recommend. Nothing is gained unless our opponents see that there is something real in our accusations,unless they see that they are not founded on mistakes and misrepresentations, unless, in short, we can appeal to their consciences. Such an appeal we think we are able to make, in what we have to say on one great topic-the worship of the Blessed Virgin.

Roman Catholics frequently complain, that in regard to this subject, in common with others, local abuses and individual opinions are alleged, and that on these are founded accusations which are in no wise applicable to the church of Rome, as an organic body with a definite creed. Than this complaint, abstractedly considered, nothing can be more just. We, at least, should be very unwilling that detached sermons, or detached treatises, should be taken as expositions of the true doctrines of the Church of England: and what we demand for ourselves we ought in fairness to concede to others. Because we find an individual Romanist worshipping a wooden image, it certainly does not follow that the church of Rome is idolatrous or because we find the peasantry of an ignorant district looking to indulgences as that which delivers them from eternal punishment, it does not follow that they are so put forward by the Council of Trent. Nevertheless, when we find certain doctrines and practices prevailing, not at this or that time, nor in this or that place, but at various periods, and in various countries, sanctioned and