a poor christian, this being the only way to preserve it; the Turks being such professed enemies to all human figures, whether painted or in mosaic, or wrought in brass or marble, that it would quickly be defaced and broken if it appeared above ground. As we walked in the streets, we observed several vaults almost every where.

The state of the christians here is very sad and deplorable, there being not above fifteen families of them: their chief employment is gardening, by which they make a shift to get a little money to pay their herache, and satisfy the demands of their cruel and greedy oppressors, and maintain a sad miserable life. They have one church dedicated to St. Theodore, the bishop of Smyrna, under whose jurisdiction they are, taking care to send a priest to officiate among them.

Having satisfied ourselves with the view of Pergamus, on Thursday the 6th, about sun-rise, we set forward in our journey toward Thyatira, our way lying almost due cast, repassing the Cetius and Caicus; which last we forded at about two miles distant from the city.

On the seventh, from Bak-hair, after four hours, we came to a village, called Mader-kuy, seated on a little hill, under which runs a little river, which loseth its waters in the Hermus. In the plain before it we saw several pillars (about forty or fifty) some fixed in the ground and others lying upon the grass: no other ruins being From this village to Thyatira in one hour.

near.

THYATIRA.

THYATIRA, (called by the Turks Akhifar, or the white castle) a city of Lydia, is distant from Pergamus about forty-eight miles, almost south-east; situated in a spacious plain, about two miles and a half in compass. Very few of the ancient buildings remain here; one we saw, which seems to have been a market place, having six pillars sunk very low in the ground, about four spans only left above. We could not find any ruins of churches; and enquiring of the Turks about it, they told us there were several great buildings of stone under ground; which we were very apt to believe, from what we had observed in other places, where digging somewhat deep, they met with strong foundations, that, without all question, have formerly supported great buildings; but the descriptions of the ancients, and the several inscriptions that we found there, put it out of doubt that this is the true Thyatira: though the Greeks, who are prodigiously ignorant of their own antiquities, take Tyreh, a town twenty-five miles to the south-east of Ephesus, to be the place, being deceived by the nearness of the sound the one has with the other: upon the same weak pretence as they have mistaken hitherto Laotik, a town not far from Ancyra, (Angury, the Turks call it) in Galatia, for Laodicea; when we have most authentic proofs, that it is placed near to the river Lycus, and not far from Hyerapolis. Several inscriptions were found, which mentioned the name of the city-Thyatira.

I find, by several inscriptions, that the inhabitants of this city, as well as those of Ephesus, were, in the times of heathenism, great votaries and worshippers of the goddess Diana. In the corner of a street, near a fountain, upon a broken stone put into a wall, is the

following inscription:-To DIANA, goddess of the mountains-And in the burying place of the Turks (who always bury their dead out of town, and near the high way, except their emperors and their relations, or some great men, as Bassas, or others, who have merited well by their services of the empire, who have the privilege to be buried in cities, as Constantinople, Adrianople, or Prusia, near the mosques, or chanes, in their own ground, which they had purchased) to the north-west of the city, where there are a great many stately pillars, which were designed to another use, is a very fair stone, erected to the honor of one of her priestesses, Ulpia Marcella, by the senate and people.

This city has a very great convenience of water, which streams in every street, flowing from a neighboring hill to the eastward of it, about a mile off; there being above three thousand five hundred pipes, if the Turks may be credited, to convey it to every part of it. It is populous, inhabited most by Turks, who have eight mosques here, few christians residing among them; those Armenians we found there being strangers, who came there to sell shashes, handkerchiefs, &c. which they bring out of Persia. They are maintained chiefly by the trade of cotton wool, which they send to Smyrna, for which commodity Thyatira is very considerable. On the 8th we left Thyatira.

In our way we repassed the Hermus, over a large stone bridge, that seems to have been built of late years; and after two hours and a half, passing through a village, called Jarosh-kuy, that lies about two miles on this side, we arrived at Sardes, having been eleven hours on horseback: our way all along from Thyatira lying almost due south.

SARDES.

SARDES (retaining somewhat of its name still, though nothing of its ancient glory, being called by the Turks Sart) is situated at the foot of the famous mountain Tmolus; on the north side of it, hav ing a spacious and delightful plain before it, watered with several streams, that flow from the neighboring hill to the south east, and with the Pactolus, arising from the same, on the east, and increasing with its waters the stream of Hermus, into which it runs; is now a very pitiful and beggarly village, the houses few and mean; but, for the accommodation of travellers, it being the road for the caravans that come out of Persia to Smyrna with silk, there is a large chane built in it, as is usual in most towns that are near such public roads, or have any thing of trade, where we took up our quarters; The inhabitants are the Turks refusing to admit us into their houses and lodge us, hearing from our Janizaries that we were Franks. for the most part shepherds, who look to those numerous flocks and herds which feed in the plains.

To the southward of the town, at the bottom of a little hill, the castle lying eastward of them, are very considerable ruins still remaining, which quickly put us in mind of what Sardes was, before earthquakes and war had caused those horrid desolations here; there being six pillars standing, of about seven yards in compass, and about ten in height; besides several vast stones, of which the other P P

pillars that are thrown down were made, one placed upon the other, and so exactly closed in those that stand, as if they were one entire piece, now lying by in a confused heap; the first row of pillars supporting huge massy stones that lie upon them.

From hence we went up to the castle, which lies eastward; the ascent very steep, in some places almost perpendicular; so that we were forced to take a great compass about to gain the top of the hill whereon it stands; easy enough to be undermined, having no rock to support it; but what might be as well impregnable for its strength as inaccessible for its height, in former ages. Within the castle we found an inscription upon the chapiter of a pillar, by which it appears, that it was erected in honor of Tiberius the emperor, whom Sardes ought to acknowledge as a second founder; he having taken care to repair the breaches caused by an earthquake, and having given it the form of a city again, as Strabo has recorded.

Easterly of the castle lie the ruins of a great church; and north of them other vast ruins, the walls still remaining of a very considerable length, with several divisions and apartments; all which take up a great compass of ground. Whether it was the chief seat of the governor, or the public court of justice, or the place where the citizens used to converse, at this distance of time, and in so great a confusion wherein it is involved, is difficult to conjecture: but whatever it was when it stood, it must needs have been very stately and glorious. We met with other ruins all along this tract, which made us quickly conclude that the greatest part of the city lay that .way.

The Turks have a mosque, which was formerly a christian church, at the entrance of which are several curious pillars of polished marble. Some few christians there are who live among them, working in gardens, and doing such like drudgery; but who have neither church nor priest to assist them, and administer the holy sacraments to them into such a sad and miserable condition is this once glorious city and church of Sardes, the metropolis of Lydia, now reduced.

On the 10th we set out from Sardes, and arrived at Philadelphia. [To be concluded in our next.]

Letters between Dr. Beattie and Bishop Porteus.

[From Sir William Forbes's life of Dr. Beattie.]

DR. BEATTIE to the Rev. Dr. Porteus.

PETERHEAD, 4th August, 1774.

I HAVE made many efforts to express, in something like adequate language, my grateful sense of the honor done me by the Right Reverend Prelate* who makes me the offer conveyed to me in your most friendly letter of the 24th July. But every new effort

* Dr. Thomas, then Bishop of Winchester, had offered Dr. Beattie, through Dr. Porteus, a living of 500l. a year, if he chose to enter into the ministry of the Church of England. A similar offer had before been made to him by Dr. Drummond, Archbishop of York, which, for the reasons stated in the above letter, he declined.

serves only to convince me, more and more, how unequal I am to the task.

When I consider the extraordinary reception which my weak endeavors in the cause of truth have met with, and compare the greatness of my success, with the insignificance of my merit, what reasons have I not to be thankful and humble! to be ashamed that I have done so little public service, and to regret that so little is in my power! to rouse every power of my nature to purposes of benev olent tendency, in order to justify, by my intentions at least, the unexampled generosity of my benefactors!

My religious opinions would, no doubt, if I were to declare them, sufficiently account for, and vindicate, my becoming a member of the church of England; and I flatter myself, that my studies, way of life, and habits of thinking, have always been such as would not disqualify me for an ecclesiastical profession. If I were to become a clergyman, the church of England would certainly be my choice, as I think, that, in regard to church government and church service, it has many great and peculiar advantages. And I am so far from having any natural disinclination to holy orders, that I have several times, at different periods of my life, been disposed to enter into them, and have directed my studies accordingly. Various ac cidents however prevented me; some of them pretty remarkable, and such as I think I might, without presumption, ascribe to a particular interposition of Providence.

The offer now made me, is great and generous beyond all expectation. I am well aware of all the advantages and honors that would attend my accepting, and yet, I find myself obliged, in conscience, to decline it; as I lately did another of the same kind, (though not so considerable) that was made me on the part of another English gentleman. The reasons which did then, and do now, determine me, I beg leave, sir, briefly to lay before you.

I wrote the "Essay on Truth" with the certain prospect of raising many enemies, with very faint hopes of attracting the public attention, and without any views of advancing my fortune. I published it, however, because I thought it might probably do a little good, bringing to nought, or at least lessening the reputation of that wretched system of sceptical philosophy, which had made a most alarming progress, and done incredible mischief to this country.— My enemies have been at great pains to represent my views, in that publication, as very different: and that my principle, or only motive was, to make a book, and if possible, to raise myself higher in the world. So that, if I were now to accept preferment in the church, I should be apprehensive, that I might strengthen the hands of the gainsayer, and give the world some ground to believe, that my love of truth was not quite so ardent, or so pure, as I had pretended.

Besides, might it not have the appearance of levity and insincerity, and by some, be construed into a want of principle, if I were at these years (for I am now thirty-eight) to make such an important change in my way of life, and to quit, with no other apparent motive, than that of bettering my circumstances, that church of which I have hitherto been a member? If my book has any tendency to do good, as I flatter myself it has, I would not for the wealth of the In

dies, do any thing to counteract that tendency; and I am afraid that tendency might in some measure be counteracted, (at least in this country) if I were to give the adversary the least ground to charge me with inconsistency. It is true, that the force of my reasonings cannot be really affected by my character; truth is truth, whoever be the speaker: but even truth itself becomes less respectable, when spoken, or supposed to be spoken, by insincere lips.

It has also been hinted to me, by several persons of very sound judgment, that what I have written, or may hereafter write, in fa vor of religion, has a chance of being more attended to, if I continue a layman, than if I were to become a clergyman. Nor am I without apprehensions, (though some of my friends think them illfounded) that, from entering so late in life, and from so remote a province, into the church of England, some degree of ungracefulness, particularly in pronunciation, might adhere to my performances in public, sufficient to render them less pleasing, and consequent. ly less useful.

Most of these reasons were repeatedly urged upon me during my stay in England, last summer; and I freely own, that the more I consider them, the more weight they seem to have. And from the peculiar manner in which the king has been graciously pleased to distinguish me, and from other circumstances, I have some ground to presume that it is his Majesty's pleasure, that I should continue where I am, and employ my leisure hours in prosecuting the studies I have begun. This I can find time to do more effectually in Scotland than in England, and in Aberdeen than in Edinburgh; which by the bye, was one of the chief reasons for declining the Edinburgh professorship. The business of my professorship here, is indeed toilsome: but I have, by fourteen years practice, made myself so much master of it, that it now requires little mental labor; and our long summer vacation of seven months, leaves me at my own dispo sal, for the greatest and best part of the year: a situation favorable to literary projects, and now become necessary to my health.

Soon after my return home in autumn last, I had occasion to write to the archbishop of York, on this subject. I specified my reasons for giving up all thoughts of church preferment ; and his grace was pleased to approve of them; nay he condescended so far as to say they did me honor. I told his grace, moreover, that I had already given a great deal of trouble to my noble and generous patrons in England, and could not think of being any longer a burden to them, now that his majesty had so graciously and so generously made for me a provision equal to my wishes, and such as puts it in my power to obtain, in Scotland, every convenience of life, to which I have any title, or any inclination to aspire.

I must, therefore, make it my request to you, that you would present my humble respects, and most thankful acknowledgments, to the eminent person, at whose desire you wrote your last letter, (whose name I hope you will not be under the necessity of concealing from me) and assure him, that, though I have taken the liberty to decline his generous offer, I shall, to the last hour of my life, preserve a most grateful remembrance of the honor he has condescended to confer upon me; and, to prove myself not altogether unwor