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I paid a visit to the city of Colosse-if them. Its name is derived from its note; that, indeed, may be called a visit, which and as it fits around the desolate ruins left us in some degree of uncertainty whe- emitting this doleful sound, it might almost ther we had actually discovered its remains. to have been appointed to chant Colosse has become doubly desolate: its from age to age the dirge of these forsaken very ruins are scarcely visible. Many a cities. harvest has been reaped, where Epaphras After so many remarks on the desolation and Archippus laboured. The vine has of ancient cities, it would be culpable in a long produced its fruits, where the ancient Christian to proceed with his task, without Christians of Colosse lived and died; and adverting to the very solemn lessons which the leaves of the forests have for ages these scenes are calculated to teach. When been strewn upon their graves. The Turks, I stood amidst these ancient ruins, every and even the Greeks who reap the harvest, pedestal, stone, and fragment appeared to and who prune the vine where Colosse have a voice. A most impressive eloquence once stood, have scarcely an idea that a addressed me from mouldering columns, Christian church ever existed there, or that falling temples, ruined theatres, decayed so large a population is there reposing in arches, broken cisterns, and from aquedeath.

ducts, baths, and sarcophagi, and other How total is the work of demolition and nameless masses of ruin. The very silence depopulation in those regions, is evident of the spot had language. The wind, as it from the fact, that the site of many ancient sighed through the forsaken habitations, cities is still unknown. It was owing to seemed to carry with it the voice of twenty the exertions of the Rev. F. Arundell, my or thirty centuries. I know not if I ever fellow-traveller in Asia, that the remains of spent a more solemn or more edifying day, Apamea and Sagalassus were brought to than that which was passed amongst the light: and there are still cities mentioned ruins of Ephesus.- Heartley's Researches, in the Acts of the Apostles, which have &c. &c. eluded research, Where is Antioch of Pisidia ? Where are Lystra and Derbe, cities of Lycaonia ? Where is Perga of

AN INFIDEL'S TESTIMONY TO THE TRUTH Pamphylia ? We sought for Antioch, on

OF PROPHECY. our journey through Pisidia; but its place, The character of Volney's writings is too as yet, has not been found.

well known to require many words on our I have myself observed the exactitude part. He devoted his talents to the cause with which the denunciations of Divine of irreligion, and endeavoured to discredit anger against the three churches of Ephesus, revelation in every possible way. His Sardis, and Loadicea have been fulfilled. Travels in Egypt and Syria, and Ruins Whilst the other four churches of Asia, of Empires, are the two works on which which are in part commended and in part his reputation as a man of research and more mildly menaced, are still populous genius chiefly rests. But the most comcities, and contain communities of nominal plete refutation of his objections, is to be Christians; of each of those it may now found in his own pages, from which the be said, that “it is empty, and void, and Religious Tract Society of Paris has sewaste.” And though " the Arabian may lected a series of irresistible testimonies to pitch his tent" at Laodicea, and “the shep- the divine truth of Scripture, in which the herds,” as at Ephesus,“ make their fold language of prophecy is compared with there,” still have they scarcely“ been in. Volney's own words; and thus he is made habited or dwelt in from generation to an unwilling witness to the cause he sought generation.” Wild“ beasts of the desert to destroy. The accuracy of his descriplie there”-hyænas, wolves, and foxes.- tions is acknowledged by all; so that, even “Their houses are full of doleful creatures :"

as a commentary on the prophecies, we are scorpions, enormous centipedes, lizards and glad to transfer these passages to our Maother noxious reptiles, crawl about amidst gazine. Nor can we invite our reader's the scattered ruins; and serpents hiss and attention to this subject, without observing, dart along through the rank grass which that infidelity may in this instance be comgrows among them.-“ And owls dwell pared to the poet's eagle, who was pierced there.” When I was standing beneath the with an arrow feathered from his own three stupendous columns of the Temple wing. of Cybele, which are still remaining at “The kingdom shall cease from DamasSardis, I looked upward, and saw the spe- cus, and the remnant of Syria.” Isa. xvii. 3. cies of owl which the Greeks call “ Cucku- “ They shall call the nobles (of Edom) vaia,” perched on the summit of one of to the kingdom, but none shall be there,

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and all her princes shall be nothing,". Isa. Those walls of Babylon, where are they? xxxiv, 12.

- Ruins, c. 2. “I will cause to cease the kingdom of “Cast her up as heaps, and destroy her the house of Israel,” Hos. i. 4.

utterly : let nothing of her be left," Jerem, I surveyed the kingdom of Damascus I. 26. and Edom, of Jerusalem and Samaria, and Babylon has nothing remaining but heaps the warlike states of the Philistines, and of earth.-Ruins, c. 4. the commercial republics of Phænicia. In closing this paper, it is right to say, This Syria, I said to myself, now almost that all the extracts have been compared depopulated, counted formerly a hundred with Volney's work, and that the texts have powerful cities. Her plains were covered been revised.-Christian Guardian. with villages, towns, and hamlets. Every where one beheld cultivated fields, free quented roads, and thickly-studded houses. Oh! what has become of those ages of Admonition is the most precious of all plenty and animation ? To what are so kindnesses ; and therefore ihey to whom many brilliant creatures of the land of man we owe this, should be looked upon as our come ?—Ruins of Empires, c. 2.

chief and greatest benefactors. It was the “Thy riches, (Tyre,) and thy fairs, thy practice of Vespasian, the Roman empemerchandise, thy mariners, and thy pilots, ror, to call himself to an account every thy calkers, and the occupiers of thy mer- night for the actions of the day; and as chandise, and all thy men of war, that are often as he had let slip one day without in thee, and in all thy company, which is doing some good, he entered in his diary in the midst of thee, shall fall into the midst this memorial_“I have lost a day.of the seas in the day of thy ruin,” Ezekiel Socrates was remarkable for patience xxvii. 27.

under calumny, and when one of his Where are those feets of Tyre, those friends admitted his indifference respecting docks of Arad, those arsenals of Sidon, and slander, he replied, “They do not hurt that multitude of sailors, of pilots, of me, because they do not hit me.” At andealers, and of soldiers ? and those labour- other time he said, “We should not be ers, those houses, and those flocks, and all too much moved with reproaches : for if that creation of moving beings, of which the they are true, we should amend by them; face of the earth was proud ?- Ruins, c. 2. and if they are false, they are of no con

“I will make her like the top of a rock. sequence. It shall be a place for the spreading of nets A heathen philosopher once asked a in the midst of the sea,” Ezek. xxvi. 4,5. Christian, “Where is God ?" the Christian

The whole population of the village con- answered, let me first ask you, “Where sists of fifty or sixty families, who live ob- he is not ?" scurely by cultivating grains, and by fish- Plato said, “Passionate persons are like ing.-- Travels, c. 21.

men who stand on their heads, they see all “ I will sell the land (of Egypt) into the things the wrong way. hand of the wicked : and I will make the Much pride, or little sense, is indicated, land waste, and all that is therein, by the when we are out of temper at a reasonable hand of strangers : I the Lord have spoken remonstrance, or a kind reproof. it,” Ezek. xxx. 12.

William the Conqueror, knowing his Such is the case of Egypt: torn for three- own deficiencies in learning, used to say, and-twenty centuries from its natural pro- that, “An ignorant prince is a crowned prietors, she has seen established succes. ass ;" which assertion made so strong an sively within her, the Persians, the Mace- impression on his son, afterwards Henry I. donians, the Romans, the Greeks, the that he obtained, from his success in learnArabs, the Georgians, and lastly, that race ing, the surname of Beauclerc, that is, the of Tartars, known by the name of Ottoman fine scholar. Turks.- Travels, c. 6.

Some are so foolish as to interrupt, or “Nineveh is empty, and void, and anticipate, those who speak, instead of waste. Their place is not known where hearing them out, and thinking before they they are," Nahum ii. 10; iii. 17.

Where are those battlements of Nine- The best method of humbling a proud veh ?—Nineveh, whose name scarcely re- man, is to take no notice of him. mains !-- Ruins, c. 2 & 4.

Be punctual even in trifling matters, as “ Thus saith the Lord of hosts, The broad in meeting a friend, or returning a book ; walls of Babylon shall be utterly broken,” for failing in little things will cause you to Jer, li. 58.

fail in greater, and render you suspected. 2D. SERIES, NO. 23.-VOL. II,

167.-VOL. XIV,


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Whatever be the motive of insult, it is be expected to produce more than double always best to overlook it; for folly scarcely its present effects. can deserve resentment, and malice is pun 11. Multitudes of every generation, ished by neglect. A good temper is one through all future ages, might be prevented of the principal ingredients of happiness. from sinking into an untimely grave, and

The story of Melancthon affords a strik- into endless torment: they might be transing lecture on the value of time—which formed into the Divine image, and prewas, that whenever he made an appoint- pared, through grace, for the endless joys of ment, he expected not only the hour, but heaven. the minute, to be fixed, that the day might 12. God would be honoured, voluntarily not run out in the idleness of suspense. and actively, by much greater numbers; Spirit is now become a very fashionable and with greater clearness, and to a greater word; to act with spirit, to speak with extent, would, through their instrumentality, spirit, means only, to act rashly, and to manifest his glory. talk indiscreetly. An able man shows spirit 13. Noris the interest of females in this sub. by gentle words and resolute actions; he is ject so unimportant as many suppose. More neither hot nor timid.

than fifty thousand of the daughters of the Preston Brook, Sept. 1832. S. S. last generation were doomed to the tremen

dous curse of having drunken husbands; and of being obliged to train up their children under the blasting influence of drunken fathers. But let the means be furnished to

extend the principle of abstinence from the LIQUORS?

use of intoxicating liquors throughout our 1. Not an individual would hereafter be. country, and the daughters of the next genecome a drunkard.

ration from this tremendous curse may be 2. Many who are now drunkards would free. Their children, and children's children, reform, and would be saved from the drun. to all future ages, will rise up, and call their kard's grave.

deliverers blessed.- Rev. J Edwards.3. As soon as those who would not re New York Christian Advocate. form should be dead, which would be but a short time, not a drunkard would be found, and the whole land would be free.

4. More than three-fourths of the pau. perism of the country might be prevented, We slight the precious kernel of the stone, and also more than three-fourths of the And toil to polish its rough coat alone." crimes.

The Progress of Error. 5. One of the grand causes of error in principle, and immorality in practice, and SIR ANDREW laid down the paper. “And of all dissipation, vice, and wretchedness, so," said Lady Wilmot, “the reform bill would be removed.

has passed.”.

“Yes; it is now become 6. The number, frequency, and severity law, and I hope we shall hear no more of diseases would be greatly lessened ; and about it, for I'm quite sick of the word.” the number and hopelessness of maniacs in “Then we've nothing more to do with our land be exceedingly diminished. reform.” “ Do !" cried Sir Andrew,

7. One of the greatest dangers of our “they've done nothing ; it has all been children and youth, and of the principal talk as yet. It remains to be put in force.” causes of bodily, mental, and moral deterio- “Oh! how delightful. Surely you mean ration, would be removed.

to reform, Sir Andrew.” “Il what have 8. Loss of property, in one generation, I to do with it; I'm no national character.” to an amount greater than the present value “But if charity begins at home,' surely of all the houses and lands in the country reform ought.” “Then you mean to begin might be prevented.

with me,” said Sir Andrew, puzzled in 9. One of the greatest dangers to our free conjecturing his sister's meaning." institutions, to the perpetuity of our govern- yes; do you know, brother, that you are ment, and to all the blessings of civil and very old-fashioned.” “Well!” “That you religious liberty, would be removed. live in an old-fashioned house.” “Well!"

10. The efficacy of the Gospel, and all “and if it isn't pulled down, it will soon the means which God has appointed for the tumble about your ears. Sir Andrew spiritual and eternal good of men, would stared with astonishment. “ What's the be exceedingly augmented; and the same meaning of all this ! Lady Wilmot, are amount of moral and religious effort might you mad—turned radical quite ?” “Per



haps I'd better say no more; you don't refinemerit." Now, you see in what true like to hear disagreeable truths.” “Dis- politeness and good manners consist; they agreeable ; on my conscience, to tell me have their source in real benevolence." I'm an old-fashioned fellow! It signifies “ What a novel idea !” “Rather oldnothing; it is what all my ancestors were fashioned, as it happens. I would wish before me. Yet, if I must be reformed for you to observe the tinsel and artificial ornathe sake of antiquity, it is but an empty ments of modern life, and tell me if you reason for an unnecessary act.” “Ay; you think they too spring from benevolence.” never will be convinced. Here is the very “I should hope that they do.” “I fear not. house we live in, so old and so gloomy, it Regard the conduct of the age, and see quite gives me the horrors to look at it.” how differently it speaks and acts. A su"For that reason I venerate and esteem it.” perficial politeness covers selfishness with “And there is the dark closet where the its film, and may perhaps deceive the inexrusty armour hangs, into which not a soul perienced and unwary, but true nobleness dares enter, because it has been haunted for of feeling must turn aside from it in dis. the last two centuries. Altogether it is a gust.” most dull, and frightful place to live, or “Now, what would Lord Chesterfield rather to die in."

say to that ?” “I care not: his letters have “Then pray what would be your wish contributed their share to the manners of respecting it?” “I would pull it down, the times, but whether their influence has and build an elegant mansion after the been beneficial or not, I have always modern style. Your two old peacock trees, doubted. His lordship has made the printhat give the gardener so much trouble to ciple of his politeness to be, not genuine trim, should be cut down, and a beautiful benevolence, but selfishness masked with shrubbery should be laid out instead of hypocritical kindness.” “ How satirical those finical fountains and flowers.” “And you are, Sir Andrew !" “Now, indeed, pray what would be your next step of language is perverted and refined, in order reform ?” “I would send away your that the same ideas, conveyed under a difheavy lumbering old coach, and substitute ferent form, may not shock.” “ To be an elegant chariot in its stead. I would sure. What! would you have no mercy give up to the plough your steady, sure- on our feelings on the refinement of sensi. footed, thick-legged horses, and procure bility ?” “True sensibility is a lovely trait steeds rather more spirited.” “To break in human nature, but it is rarely to be met my neck, I suppose. Well! and what with. Its counterfeit, which is so current, next?”

“I would then proceed to my is too disgusting to receive mercy. The worthy brother, Sir Andrew." “ You want world exerts itself to appear amiable under to give me a new face, hey ?” “Why, no, whatever appearance it can assume : even I'll not quarrel with family looks ; but your almsgiving, and the bestowment of money ---your manners, Sir Andrew.” “Manners! on religious or benevolent purposes, is 100 I understand you. But an old-fashioned generally given only in ostentation. fellow must have old-fashioned-manners.' “Oh! Sir Andrew, how uncharitable “Why must he? What a pity it is that a you are !” “And so I ever would be to sensible man should offend by rude and vice, let it assume as specious a disguise as disagreeable behaviour.” “ If people will it may. Besides this hypocritical ostentabe offended with truth and sound sense, tion, there is a constant endeavour, in some it's a great pity; I shall care but little to classes of society, to appear more wealthy palliate them. And now, my dear sister, and more respectable than they really are; allow me to take up the subject, for it is a and to this bauble they sacrifice their comvery important one." “You look serious, fort and happiness.” “But is it not lawful Sir Andrew, are you going to read me a to endeavour to rise in the world ?” “It is sermon ?” “Why, no, I'll speak it extem. not their endeavour to rise, that I would pore, and I'll take my text from Macken- censure; but their constant efforts to appear zie's 'Man of the World.'”

what they are not, to patch up their pride “Politeness taught as an art is ridicu. -by the bye, you recollect Mr. Hogg !” lous : as the expression of liberal sentiment “Oh! yes; I shall never forget the braand courteous manners, it is truly valuable. zier's son.” The father, a respectable There is a politeness of the heart, which is man in the city, by dint of economy and confined to no rank, and dependent upon industry, acquired a tolerable fortune; but, no education ; the desire of obliging, which with an error too common among tradesa man possessed of this quality will univer- men, determined to bring up his son to a sally show, seldom fails of pleasing, though gentleman's expectations, so that the young his style may differ from that of modern man by nature and education despised the

source of his father's gains.” “What a to trade, and spoil his white hands; I al. pity! Isn't that he, who altered his name, ways thought they looked genteel. And to make it more genteel ?” “Oh! yes; his manners too will all be lost behind a a constant practice with monosyllabics counter." « Good manners can be lost no now-a-days-doubled the final consonant, where. But, if by the assistance of his and added e.” “ But it made him less friends, he resumes his father's business, it swinish, you know. Whenever I saw him, is to be hoped that he will endeavour to lay I used to think his origin doubtful ; but his aside the gentleman's notions, and take up impudence carried him through every the tradesman's.” “ Such a nice head of thing." “ Yet not entirely, for who could hair too, and he sings so prettily!” “Well, see that forwardness, and aping after gen- he may brush his brass with his hair; and tility, without thinking of brass, without talk as for singing, it will make his business ing of brass."

more cheerful." “ For shame, Sir Andrew! You are “You're very unfeeling, Sir Andrew, indeed too satirical. But I must say he you have no pity for the poor young man. was a prodigious favourite with most of the It must be a very dull change for him; he young ladies of the village ; so very atten must not expect any more pleasure as long tive, that I could sometimes feel inclined to as he lives." “ But it will be well for him, forgive his aping after gentility. Why, to be if he profits by the lesson misfortune has sure, it was pardonable, if it wasn't very taught him. If he can now discard the wise; there's nothing like being a gentle. empty notions of gentility for the sober man—so the world thinks.” “ But it didn't application of a tradesman, and aim at last long, for he soon left us. Do you know being respectable rather than to be thought what has become of him?" “He was ga- genteel, he may still live comfortably.” zetted as a bankrupt last week.”

“ Bank « I declare you seem to be quite an enemy rupt!" ejaculated Lady Wilmot, dropping to any thing genteel ; but I can assure you her work, “Did he still carry on business?” that gentility makes a man a great deal « Yes, indeed; he pretended to do so, more amiable than learning.” “ Humph !" under the old-fashioned name of Hogge. said Sir Andrew, and resumed his perusal Yet, as he paid but little attention to it of the paper. “ It is as I said ; you don't himself, it never thrived after his father's like disagreeable truths,” rejoined Lady death. Mr. Hogge became a gentleman be- Wilmot. “ Then the point still remains to cause of his money, and a bankrupt because be argued, whether we are not surfeited he was a gentleman.” “ But why should with polite hypocrisy, and external gentihe become bankrupt for being a gentle- lity." “ Oh no; that is not my meaning.

.” “No necessity for it at all; but so Let us have politeness without hypocrisy, he did. He wished to be thought genteel, and genuine worth without deception." and played off the gentleman when he had “ The first words of reason,” said Sir Anonly a tradesman's pocket. His father's drew, “that I've heard from you this earnings were soon spent in gew-gaws, morning.” “Then I hope they will not hunting, gambling, racing, &e. Moreover, be thrown away, since they have been so he wanted to be thought rich, when he knew scarce.” “I hope not, for it is obvious he had no more brass to turn into gold.” to any person of reflection, that politeness “ Poor fellow !" “ Though he may

is a graceful polish to conversation and have some claim upon our pity, he has manners, and gives them at least the

apmore upon our censure.

pearance of being amiable.” “And genkeep up the appearance of a gentleman, tility appears to be the modernizing of robs the honest but more humble trades- respectability, and embellishing it with the man, he is guilty of the most fraudulent variegated ornaments of taste.” robbery." “ Mr. Hogge danced very “ Well, Sir Andrew, what objection can prettily though. I've often thought it a

you have to these ?"

'« None at all. My great pity he was a brazier.” “ Well ! for objection lies to the assumption of them, my part, I rather pitied him because he to hollow politeness where benevolence has was not. If he had trodden in the steps left nothing but her garb, to that constant of his father, he might still have remained aping after gentility, to the reigning desire a respectable member of society. But of being thought wiser and more amiable, now that the source of his gains has failed, richer and more respectable, than we really he is despised by his father's friends for his And this, it must be confessed, is a ridiculous pride, and his fashionable asso- leading foible of the age, that nothing can ciates care no longer to dissemble their affect but ridicule, and that nought can contempt." “Yes, as you say, it was very conquer but painful experience." wrong. Then I suppose he must now go Beaconsfield,

J. A. B.


When a man, to


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