This new city became very splendid in process of time; but it was greatly damaged in the reign of Tiberius by an earthquake. On this Tiberius ordered it to be repaired and adorned with many stately buildings; and of that city the ruins which are now visible are the remains. Ephesus was in subsequent times sacked by the Goths, and the temple of Diana again burnt to the ground. The ruin of the temple is thus described by Gibbon:--"In the general calamities of mankind, the death of an individual, however exalted, the ruin of an edifice, however famous, are passed over with careless inattention. Yet, we cannot forget that the temple of Diana at Ephesus, after having risen with increasing splendour from seven repeated misfortunes[240], was finally burnt by the Goths in their third naval invasion. The arts of Greece, and the wealth of Asia, had conspired to erect that sacred and magnificent structure. It was supported by one hundred and twenty-seven marble columns of the Ionic order. They were the gifts of devout monarchs, and each was sixty feet high. The altar was adorned with the masterly sculpture of Praxiteles, who had, perhaps, selected from the favourite legends of the place, the birth of the divine children of Latona, the concealment of Apollo after the slaughter of the Cyclops, and the clemency of Bacchus to the vanquished Amazons[241]. Yet the length of the temple of Ephesus was only four hundred and twenty-five feet; about two-thirds of the measurement of the church of St. Peter's at Rome[242]. In the other dimensions it was still inferior to that sublime production of modern architecture. The spreading arms of a Christian cross require a much greater breadth than the oblong temples of the pagans; and the boldest architect of antiquity would have been startled at the proposal of raising in the air a dome of the size and proportions of the Pantheon. The temple of Diana was, however, admired as one of the wonders of the world. Successive empires, the Persian, Macedonian, and the Roman, had revered its sanctity, and enriched its splendour. But the rude savages of the Baltic were destitute of a taste for the elegant arts, and they despised the ideal terrors of a foreign superstition[243]."