special resentment what so intimately touches himself, but because the body, being the material shrine or organ both of his domestic affections and his mental endowments, and his personal enjoyments and his daily activities, with sickness the wheels of life are temporarily paralyzed, by death they are finally stayed. In clouding our mind, in depressing our energies, in interrupting our duties, in suspending our pleasures, sickness at once diminishes our dignity and impairs our usefulness. Yet it is not only in what it causes now, but in what it threatens presently, that is the real sting. Over the distant future the sick man again and again sends uneasy and trembling messengers, to see if on the edge-line of the sky a cloud is rising. It may not come to-day, but it must come to-morrow. The cloud no bigger than a man's hand is already gathering for some of us. When it begins to climb the sky we all feel what it means.

In the sphere of conscience He contends with us through the sense of sin. This was eminently the case with Job; it is always more or less the case, even with those who already know Him as a God that pardoneth iniquity; how much more with those, to whose inmost spirit the fact and guilt of sin have yet to be brought home? In some respects this is the most solemn and awful and intolerable of all. For a man or a woman to be brought face to face with the awful holiness of God, and to be made to feel the moral gulf between what He is and what they are; to come to see for the first time what sin deserves, and righteousness demands, and God knows, and memory recalls, and conscience condemns, and neighbours whisper at; to be dumb before God, for there is no denial to offer; to be abashed before God, for there is no excuse to make! Well, when God contended with Saul he remained three days and did neither eat nor drink; and with Job -"I am vile, what shall I answer thee? I will lay my hand upon my mouth." Christian reader, when He thus contends with you, or with me, what shall we say to Him? what shall we do with Him? Our cry shall be, "Lord have mercy upon us!" our hope, that there is forgiveness with Him, therefore shall He be feared.

But WHY does God contend? Through mystery to discipline faith; and through bereavement to stir love; and through sickness to compel dependence; and through a sense of sin either to create or to deepen repentance. It is not that He discourages the use of reason. Why should He disown the

noblest of His own gifts? It is not that He makes light of knowledge. To know Him in His Son is eternal life. It is not that He forbids questions. In a certain sense what He desires is that we should ask more. But He would have us see that our faculties are actually and intentionally limited; and that while many things are meant to be knowable, others are absolutely unknowable, others we can only hope and begin to know by taking much for granted on His word. For in the sphere of spiritual knowledge, the laws of material science cannot hold; and the only method of educating the spiritual nature and moral life of man is by faith. To recognise what we cannot explain, and to consent to it, is the humility of true wisdom. To accept, what we could not have otherwise discovered, on the authority of revelation, is the obedience of faith. But it is the discipline of mystery which, to some minds, is the only school in which this wisdom can be acquired.

Through bereavement God would stir love; love to Himself. We sometimes hear it said in a loose and shallow way, about bereavements generally, that they are God's protests against idolatry; and occasionally this may be true. But very often they are not protests at all. To the soul transplanted into Paradise it is a gracious invitation to the joy of the Lord. To those left behind, it is the question of a holy tenderness, "Lovest thou me more than these?" God does not grudge us our human love. I protest against that thought as a libel on Him. He has made us and bidden us to love each other; and the more we love each other, the more we fulfil His purpose and resemble Himself. But He claims a share of our regard, and a place in our hearts, and a shrine in our homes, and an altar in our families; and it is a question if He always gets these things till He claims them. While we may still cherish the memory of those who are taken, with a hungering and passionate tenderness, we are also to listen to the Divine voice that whispers over us in our sorrow, "Thy brother shall rise again."

Far too

Through sickness He would compel dependance. Here let us be quite honest. many of us practically live without God in the world, until we find we want Him for something. Unless fear startled us, or pain unnerved us, or mortality overshadowed us, what a Godless world this redeemed earth would be! But for sickness there would be no milestones to tell us of the ever-lessening distance to a nearing eternity. But for sick

Once more, through the sense of sin, He would ripen holiness and deepen humility. Job, you will observe, if you read this book carefully, never said he was not a sinner. On the contrary, he expressly admitted that in years gone by he had sinned; and in one of his saddest appeals to God he expressly says to Him, "Thou hast made me possess the sins of my youth." What he did say is that, though his youth had been stained and thoughtless, his manhood had been upright and pure. And if it had been, it had been; and for him to have said otherwise would have been to utter a lie. But his friends, who could not explain his calamities otherwise than as the Divine visitation of some terrible though unknown iniquity, insisted on his confessing what had never happened; and he would die sooner than that! "Mine integrity will I hold fast as long as I live." Was not he right? What, then, was Job's error, and Job's necessity? His error was, that he set too much store by his blameless and beneficent life; that he had not learnt enough of the Divine righteousness, and of his own vast imperfection, to value his own holiness at its right measure. His necessity was that, even though his past and early sin had been long ago broken off and confessed and forgiven, it would be good for him to have a deeper sense of the sinfulness of sin, and a more humbling estimate of his own shortcomings. Therefore God, in His great love to him, brought back his sin to his remembrance, and made him mourn for it anew, not because it was not pardoned, but just because it was; and the end of it was that, out of a humbled and broken heart, the great patriarch, like a sorrowful and chastened child, sobbed out his memorable confession into the ear of his Father, "I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth Thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes." In conclusion, are there any readers of this paper with whom God is contending at this moment, or with whom He has lately been contending; and whose controversy with them saddens and darkens their lives? To you I would say, Be of good cheer! If you only knew it, the thing really to dread is, not God remembering you, but God forgetting you, and leaving you in your sins. For that is the peace of death. To you I also say, let the experience of Job whisper these consoling words.

As to the precise object of this contention,

nay, a cruel rashness that presumes to explain all by one. Sometimes, no doubt, as when David's child died, it is in chastisement for sin; but not always. It may be a truth that He would teach, or a gift that He would impart, or a duty to which He would call, or a dignity for which He would prepare. It is our business, however, to ask Him; and He is sure to tell us, when the right time comes. But all God's controversies with all His people have these two ends, whatever others there may be-to wean us from the love of this present world, and to draw us nearer to Himself; and in one marked respect we are better off than Job was. We have Christ. No doubt he had a vision of Christ, and his poor tortured heart broke out into a spasm of hope in Him, when he said, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." But the vision was dim, and the avenger who, he knew, would plead for him, was seventeen centuries away. But Christ, in suffering for us, has taught us how to suffer; and, in His bitter cry on the cross, to the Father who was, He thought, contending with Him, we see how perfect is His sympathy with His suffering people.

Christ has borne our sins in His own body on the tree; and the love of the cross helps us to understand the depth of the sin which needed such an expiation, and to trust the fulness of the grace which it procured for the world.

Christian people, whatever happensGod far away, life clouded or ebbing, friends misjudging you, poisoned tongues defaming you, bodily weakness robbing life of its nobleness, growing years stealing away one by one the companions of your youth; doubts that chill, thoughts that defile, recollections that sadden, losses that depress, privileges you can no longer enjoy, duties that once gladdened you but now overpower you,-let but two things fill your heart and steady your mind, and all will yet be well.

As to the Church outside, now is the trial of your faith that shall show if religion is real and God is true. Let men see that you have a treasure in heaven which awaits you, and a power in faith which sustains you, and a joy in prayer which consoles you, and a tight grip of God which keeps your chin high above the deepening waters, and gives you the peace which they envy and would gladly attain. Now, and to the last, glorify Him; and this is the way.

As for thine own soul, hold thou fast by God. He hath never forsaken thee yet, and He is not likely to forsake thee at the moment

when thou needest Him most. Never was a human soul nearer a sorrowful shipwreck than Job was. But a strong hand pulled him out of the deep waters, and set him on a rock and ordered his goings. What God

did for him He will do for thee; He is not changed in His character nor thou in thy necessity. Only for Job's victory there must be Job's faith; and for Job's faith there must be Job's prayer!

THE very first foundation, floated out on August 27th, 1875, was severely tested by the weather. When it left the shore in tow of two steamers a gentle breeze was blowing, but by the time it reached the place where it had to form part of the bridge the breeze had increased to a strong gale, and the waves washed over the barges so that the hatchways had to be caulked to prevent filling and sinking. It was left in that position nearly three days till the gale moderated sufficiently to allow the operation to proceed. With the smaller piers this could not have been done. They weighed only from forty to eighty tons, and were entirely at the mercy of waves which on the larger ones produced little or no effect. In another important point did these large piers show their superiority over the others. Their base was so much larger that there was no fear of falling over as three of the small ones had done even if they should go a few feet out of level during the sinking.

Now one must remember that these cylinders had only to penetrate the sand, and that no clay, boulders, or such material had to be excavated. In order to sink the cylinder it was only required to make a large hole in the centre into which it would sink till it reached the firm bottom. It was, therefore, not attempted to get it dry by forcing air into it, but pumps placed on barges were applied, and the end of the suction pipes guided by divers at the bottom of the pier. This apparatus, invented by Mr. Reeves, one of the assistant engineers, differed from an ordinary pump in this respect, that the sand and water could not come into contact with the valves and other working parts, which they would soon have rendered unfit for use by their grinding action.

The apparatus was placed on a barge so that it would be readily removed in case of a gale. In ordinary weather the sinking of these cylinders took about fourteen days; but often they could not be approached for weeks in succession, and the average time of

sinking was thereby increased to one month. After it was accomplished concrete material was lowered down in buckets which opened when they reached the bottom, and this was continued until the whole lower part of the cylinder, extending from the gravel to a few feet above the river bed, was filled. During the latter part of this operation divers spread the concrete to obtain a level surface. It was now only necessary to remove the top iron part, leaving the lower part to form an artificial level rock of great surface. In the meantime, the brick part of the piers had been built on shore. On the level floor two iron girders were placed to be built in and become part of the brickwork, so that it could be lifted by their projecting ends after the cement had become so hard as to make the whole mass as strong as if it had been hewn out of one stone. It might easily have got cemented to the level floor also if a layer of brown paper had not been spread on this before building the brickwork. This part of the pier was hexagonal in shape, and when placed in position would have two points up and down stream forming cutwaters, while two of the sides ran parallel with the direction of the current. An opening was left in the centre to lighten the mass while it was floated, and this was filled up with concrete after the pier had been placed on the foundation, so that it became one with the concrete in the lower part. When finished the pier would be sixteen feet wide and measure twenty-seven feet in the direction of the current. Three or four of these brick blocks, twenty-two feet high and weighing two hundred tons, were always kept ready on the foreshore and floated out in turn, so that they might have as long a time as possible to get thoroughly hard or "set." After floating out they would only reach a few feet above low water, but as the tide left the top for a shorter or longer time, it was easy to add to their height and build them up to high water by bringing barges containing materials and men along side of them. Four

tons.

courses of stone of an aggregate thickness of five feet were afterwards put on and completed the pier to five feet above high water. In the meantime, the pieces of iron forming the girders or spans had been erected and riveted together on a staging near the shore and connected with it by a gangway. Some of these pieces as they arrived from the contractor's works at Middlebro' were thirty-five feet long and weighed three Each span had four horizontal pieces or booms, two at the top and two at the bottom, and four vertical posts at the ends. Nine crosses consisting of struts and tie-bars keep the booms at the proper distance and transmit the strains to the ends where the span is supported by the piers. The two girders of each of the two hundred and forty-five feet spans are fifteen feet apart, their depth is twenty-seven feet, and their weight one hundred and ninety tons. To erect and rivet them on the staging required four weeks, not fewer than eighteen thousand rivets having to be put in each. After completing that work the staging on which it had been done was partly demolished at each end and barges introduced in the gaps. These would lift the span off its temporary resting place and float it out to the piers, which were ready to five feet above high water. Here they were moored and left to wait the falling tide, which deposited the ends on the piers and cleared the barges. It generally took less than half an hour to take the heavy mass from the staging to its place, and all went smoothly and without any trouble. Occasionally, however, the success of the operation would be endangered by a sudden gale. This was especially the case on August 23rd, 1876. A steady breeze was blowing at the time, but as the floating out of the girder had already been delayed a couple of days, it was resolved to take it out notwithstanding. As high water would occur at seven o'clock in the evening the barges were put in the gaps of the staging under the girder at four o'clock and shortly after touched it and began to take the load. At six o'clock it was high enough to be floated away, but as the current was yet too strong it had to wait. In order to counteract the westerly breeze to some extent by the last of the flood-tide, it was towed away at half-past six. The wind had in the meantime risen to half a gale, but the barges with their strange load proved to be quite seaworthy, and the operation would not have been marked by any extraordinary circumstances had both the tug steamers been equally well prepared for

the work. But one of them had been hired for the occasion and was not well arranged for towing. She soon turned out to be quite useless, and the other was not able to keep the girder broadside on against the wind, even with the tide in its favour. The structure was blown down the river, to the dismay of a number of interested spectators on board the steamer and of the on-lookers on shore. In order to offer as little surface to the wind as possible, the girder was put end on, but as the ebb-tide had now set in all it could do was to retard the downward course.

Another trial was made to get help from the second steamer, but the crew had evidently got demoralised and the high wind made it impossible to make the orders given from the girder understood by those on board. One rope after another snapped, and every time the chance of reaching the piers, or even a sheltered place for the night, was lessened. The girder had already drifted more than a mile and would soon come to the mouth of the river. Darkness was fast setting in, the tide was flowing away and would soon be too low to float the girder over the top of the piers on which by this time it should have rested. It was a very anxious time for those "on board.' It was difficult to tell what would happen, but all the contingencies were bad ones, the proba bility of mooring the barges with their freight in the river and riding out the gale being one of the most favourable suppositions. If the weather did not get worse and heavy anchors could be procured soon enough, this might be done; and one of the launches had been dispatched for the purpose of getting them, while the other was away to Dundee to get another tug if possible. In the meantime the spectators had left in the second steamer, as it had become quite dark. Not one of them was prepared to see the girder next morning in its proper place, but as soon as the harbour steamer arrived in response to the summons for assistance, a temporary lull set in, and the two tugs managed to get the girder up to the place just in time. Five minutes later and the piers would have been too high out of the water. As it was, it was safely resting on them by eleven o'clock, and the barges were withdrawn soon after and taken into the harbour. When by midnight the gale came on again with full strength the writer derived no small amount of satisfaction from the thought that the structure was in safety. No moorings would have stood such a wind and the girder would surely have been wrecked.