the
Ephesians, in a temple which was ranked among the seven wonders of the
world. In the olden days there had been another temple to the goddess,
which was burnt on the night when Alexander the Great was born. Two
hundred and twenty years was the new temple in building, and each of
its columns was the gift of a prince. All that the art of Greece could
give was lavished upon the building. The hand of Praxiteles carved the
altar, the magic pencil of Apelles adorned its walls with a picture of
Alexander. Ephesus was also famous for its magic arts; and when the
people had been turned to Christ by the preaching of S. Paul, they
brought their books of conjuring and curious arts and burned them
before him. Now the grass grows rank among the broken columns and few
stones which mark the ruins of what was Ephesus.

It was in such a city, then in its full pride and beauty, that S. John,
the aged, spent the last days of his long life. S. Jerome tells us how
the old Bishop was almost too feeble to be carried into the church,
where now was worshipped the true God; and how his trembling lips could
only fashion the same words over and over again: "My little children,
love one another." His hearers growing weary of this one text, asked
S. John why he was ever repeating it, and the old man answered,
"Because it is the teaching of the Lord; and if this alone be observed,
it is sufficient." To be as little children, and to love one another,
such is the whole duty of man. S. John had lived a long life, and had
seen men and cities, and the one lesson which he had learnt above all
others is that which he teaches above all others--love. I think,
brothers, we can picture the old white-haired Bishop of Ephesus, borne
day after day upon a litter into his church, and ever saying the same
tender words, "little children, love one another." What a retrospect
there was for S. John to look back along that stretch of years! What
memories must have filled the old man's heart of those days when he was
a sunny-haired stripling, working with his brothers in the fishing
boat, and casting net, and pulling oar over the bright waters of
Gennesareth. What memories must have come of that Gracious Presence
which one day appeared among the fisher folks, and opened a new world
and a new life to S. John and his companions. How every word and act
of Him, who spake as never man spake, and went about doing good, must
have been engraved on the memory of th