they

will make them beneath the regard of their Maker, and alfo will render them contemptible in the eyes of all good men, who confult their reafoning powers, who are not fo credulous, as to be carried down this popular torrent of ignorance and infidelity, but to thofe who have a regard for another life, after this, (and certainly there is one, either of happiness or mifery, notwithstanding the artful infinuations of infidels to the contrary,) form quite different notions, ideas, and conceptions of pleasure: efteem it their higheit pleafure, to do their duty towards God and man, to make it their meat, and drink, to do the will of their heavenly father, like their blessed mafter; they are perfuaded that there is a way that feemeth right to man, but are truly convinced, from the woeful experience of others, that the end thereof is the way of death. Now the wife man who hath here ftated religion under the name of pleasure or wisdom, declareth," that her ways are pleafantnefs, and all her paths are peace; therefore it is the highest wifdom for each of us, to take care and endeavour to fecure," the one thing needful," I mean the foul, our immortal fouls. What are all the pleasures of time, and fenfe, could we have fuch influence over mankind, as to command them at our will, when put into the balance of eternity! No, they are not to be brought in competition with the realities of religion, which will be never fading joys, which will last as long as God himself fhall endure; there is a perpetuity in real religion, but there is great uncertainty in all fublunary enjoyments. Our bleffed Saviour hath fully decided this point even to the meaneft capacity, What will it profit a man, if he fhould gain the whole world and lofe his own foul; or, what shall a man give in exchange for his foul" Surely no

thing. One foul outweighs ten tho fand worlds,' as Dr. Young elegantly expreffes it.

This is very obvious, for was I poffeffed of, all the treafures of the world, and could command all men at my nod, and was devoid of the hopes of eternal happiness, it would profit me nothing, fince my fhort life at the longest will foon be over, and then like the rich fool, mentioned in the gospel, where will be all thofe things which I fo anxioufly and carpingly have provided? Seeing, therefore, that riches can profit us nothing in the day of wrath, and that all fenfual pleafures, and gratifications, will pail the appetite, and render us unfit for the enjoyment of them, and that nothing but that wisdom which is from above, I mean true religion, can adminifter any comfort to us either in this world, or the next: therefore it ought to be our daily care and fudy to keep our confciences void of offence, both towards God and man, as we must certainly give an account, a ftrict impartial account to our Almighty Judge, how we have spent our time on earth, and whether we fought to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour, in all things: if this hath been our ultimate defign, and chief' end we had in view, during our life time, then when we come to die, we may look forward for a bleffed immortality through the merits of Jefus Christ. I have often thought upon Mr. Addifoa's dying words, and with what feeming rapture he made his exit; when he was upon his death bed, he fent for a young man, who was a relation to him, and defred him to come immediately, as he had fomething of importance to communicate to him; the young man came with all the eagerness and impatience poffible, thinking his dying friend had fomething to fay to him relating to his temporal aff. rs: but when he came into his prefence,

Nn 2

and

and heard him declare his mind, he was convinced of his mistake, for the chief requeft that Mr. Addison had to communicate, was to fhew him a convincing proof of the comforts that flow from the realities of religion, taking the young man. by the hand, and giving him a gentle fqueeze, failing in his face, faid, See, in what peace a Chriftian can die." I pray God, that we may all be enabled thus to triumph in the agonies of death!

AN ANECDOTE.

Tis indeed a very trite, but notwithstanding that, a very true obfervation, that there are many more able to give advice, than to take it; and for this, various reafons may be affigned. The perfon who gives advice, may be difinterefted; and in this fituation, a man of a moderate genius, will fee farther and clearer, than one of a much fronger underflanding, whofe thoughts are warped by prejudice, or clouded by paffion. Again, the perion who gives advice may be poffeffed of lights, which he who receives has not, and in that particular cafe, may be actually the wifer man, though much inferior to him, whom he advifes, in all other

pects. We feem to be fenfible of this in regard to profeffions: for men place great confidence in their phyficians, and in their lawyers, though they are not ex remely taken with their converfation. But in the general concerns of life, it is otherwife. A man efteems it no dimization of his character, that he is rop.cquainted with law or phyfic; but not to be able to conduct one's ow affairs, is a very humiliating Circumdated indeed.

True philofophy is the only feience that either fets us above the neceffey ri afking advice, or enable us to judge whether the advice that is one, be fit to be fol

lowed. There are many people who would perfuade us, that common fenfe is the very fame thing with this philofophy. But thefe people mistake the capacity of attaining, for the thing attained. A man without common fenfe, or even defective in that point, will never be able to make himfelf master of that philofophy; but many thoufands have not only excellent fenfe, but common fenfe, and yet through want of application, never attain it. An inftance of this will make the thing as clear as the fun at noon-day.

There was an Italian bishop who had struggled through great difticulties, without repining, and who met with much oppofition in the discharge of his epifcopal function, without ever betraying the leaft impatience. An intimate friend of his, who highly admired thofe virtues, which he thought it impofible to imitate, one day afked the prelate, if he could communicate the fecret of being always eafy. "Yes, replied the old man, I can teach you my fecret, and with great facility; it confits in nothing more than in making a right ufe of my eyes." His friend begged him to explain himself. "Molt willingly, returned the bifhop: In whatever ftatel am, i first of all look up to heaven, and I remember that my principal bufinefs here, is to get there. I then look down upon the earth, and call to mind, how fmall a fpate I fhall occupy in it, when I come to be interred. I then look abroad into the world, and obferve what multitudes there are, who are in all refpects more unhappy than myfelf. Thus I learn where true happinefs is placed, where all our cares muft end, and how very little reafon I have to repine or to complain." Your readers will eatily determine who had common fente, and who was the philofopher.

SCRIP

E

[Continued from page 228.]

M-ROGEE the fountain of Rogel, or the Fuller's fountain, was fituated at the foot of Mount Sion. Josh. xv. 7, 18.

EPHESUS, a very celebrated city of Ionia, in Afia Minor, fituated upon the river Cayfler. It was once much celebrated for it famous temple of Diana, which in every refpect, according to the accounts given us by he2then authors, exceeded all the mott celebrated buildings of antient times. It is faid to have been 425 feet long, zzo broad, and to have been fupported by 127 pillars of marble, 70 feet high, whereof 27 were most curiously wrought, and all the reft highly polished. One Ciefiphon, a famous architect in his time, contrived the model of it, and that with so much art and curiofity, that it took up two hundred years before it was finished. After it was finished, it was leven times fet on fire, but once more ef pecially on the very day Socrates was poifoned; and at another time, on the fame night that Alexander was born. However, the Ephefian ladies enabled them again to rebuild it, in all its former magnificence, by their large and devout contributions.-And as this city was famous in the times of heathenifm for the temple of Diana, fo in the times of Chriftianity, it was adorned with a beautiful and magnificent church, honoured with the name of St. John, who for a confiderable time refided in this city, and governed the churches of Afia. This church is fill standing, concerning which, and the prefent condition of the city, the following account from Sir Paul Rycaut, p. 44. may be agreeable to the reader, as from thence he may form fome idea of the magnificence of the ancient cities,

But nothing appears more remarkable and stately to a ftranger in his near approach to this place, than the caftle on the hill, and that lofty fabric of St John's church now converted to a Turkish mofque; the biggeft pillar in which is five Turkish pikes and an half in compafs, which is upwards of four English yards. Thefe lifting up their heads amongst other ruins, and humble cottages of the prefent inhabitants, feem to promife that magnificent structure which renowned and made famous this city in antient hiftory. But at the entrance a perfon ftumbles at pillars of porphyry, and finds an uneafy paffage over fubverted temples and palaces: the memory of what they have been is not preferved by tradition, and few or no infcriptions remain to direct us. Some marks there are of a building more ample and stately than the reft, which feems to have been feated in the fuburbs of the city without the walls, and therefore gives us caufe to conjecture it to have been the temple of Diana, the metropolitan fhrine of all others dedicated to that goddefs, antiently adjoining to the Ortygian grove and Cenchrean ftream, where the and Apollo were reported in fables to be born from Latona. This probably might have been the temple of that goddefs, which all Aña and the world worshipped, caufed that violent oppofition, which the filversmith made to the preaching of Chriftianity. Under the ruins of this temple we defcended about thirty ftairs, with lights in our hands, where we entered into divers narrow paffages, with many windings and turnings, that it was neceffary to make ufe of a clue of thread to guide us, which fome therefore call a labyrinth, but to me it feemed no other than the foundation of the temple, which for fabrics of that weight and magnificence is neceffary, (as I conceive) according to the rules of architecture. The air below was moift, and of a fuffocating heat, which nourished batts of a prodigious bignefs, which oftentimes

ftruck

ftruck out our torches as enemies unto light, and companions of thofe fpirits which inhabit the ftygian darknefs, Not far from hence was a stately cavatory of porphyry, called St. John's font, the diameter of which was above feven Turkish pikes, wherein (it is reported) he baptized great multitudes of believers. Not far from hence was fhewn us the cave of the feven fhepherds, the ftory of which (whether true or falfe) is yet current through the world, and believed fo far by the Chriftians who inhabited Ephefus, that they have created a chapel in memory of them, part of which remains unto this day, and the painting is yet not wholly defaced.-The theatre is almost wholly deftroyed, few feats being there remaining; and of other ruins no certain knowledge can be had, the infcriptions which are found being for the most part fo disfigured and broken off from the portals of gates and triumphal arches, as that they can little fatisfy any man's curiofity.

Over a gate, which appears to have been in the middle of the city, are divers steel plates, plain, not much defaced, which feem to reprefent the ftory of Hector's body drawn about the city of Troy by Achilles, but without reason, fancied by fome to be a defcription of the first chriftian perfecutions. For I having no fuch ftrength of imagination to represent it to me in that form, and obferving likewife that the ftones do not exactly fquare each with the other, am induced to believe, that they were fetched from fome other place, and fixed there for ornament in more modern times. The Aqua devet on the eaft fide, agreeable to the antient magnificence and honour of fo renowned a city, appears not very antique, at least feems to have been repaired in latter times, in regard that fome ftones, which are found there, are referved in the walls,

with infcriptions denoting Marcus Aurelius; and therefore seem to have been placed by the Turks, as cafually they came to hand, at the time they firit took poffeffion of that city, when for fome years it flourished even in their days, before the Ottoman family became mafters of Couftantinople, or those parts of the Leffer Afia. But now the relicks of the Gentiles, the Chriftians, and the Turks, are fubverted and lie unknown, and heaped promifcuously together; for the whole town is nothing but a habitation of herdfinen and farmers, living in low and humble cottages of dirt, covered on the top with earth, sheltered from the extremity of the weather by mighty maffes of rujnea walls, the pride and oftentation of former days, and the emblem in thofe of the frailty of the world, and the tranfient vanity of human glory. For I cannot but with many reflections on the wiflom and providence of Almighty God, (who cafts down one and raises up ano.her) and on the itrange alteration and metamorphofis of worldly things, take a profpect of this city of Ephefus, being as well changed in the vanity of names as of conditions. For, as Pliny faith, during the Trojan war it was called Alope, then Ortygia, then Morgas, then Ephefus, and now by the Turks Ayafaluck. This place, where once Christianity fo flourished, as to be a mother church, and the See of a metropolitan Bishop, cannot now fhew one family of Chriftians: fo hath the fecret providence of God difpoled human affairs, too deep and mysterious for us to enter into."

It is well known that St. John not only paffed a great part of his life at Ephefus, but died there; and Timothy, St. Paul's difciple, was made firit Bishop of Ephefus by the Apostle, who laid his hands on him.- -1 Tim. iv. 14. and 2 Tim, i. 6.

[To be continued.]

POETRY.