always thought was elevated upon a rock, only very slightly raised above the sea level. Looking beyond the city towards Carmel we saw its sides now clothed in a rich livery of Tyrian purple, not inappropriate to this country, where the colour was invented, while the white buildings of the large convent on its summit, and the thought of its numerous inmates excited the envy of our two solitary Franciscans. One of these recluses was a Genoese, and he was pleased to be reminded that Christopher Columbus was his countryman, and that, like St. Paul, both of them were citizens of " no mean city."

Walking backwards and forwards on the terraced roof of the convent with my cowled companion, we were able to recal some of the events in the history of this remarkable city. The earliest notice we have of it is in holy writ, where we read that Asher "did not drive out the inhabitants of Accho"-which may mean either that they would not, or if the name of the place which means close, enclosed, or pressed together, have any influence, that they could not drive them out.

Herod, or some earlier possessor, bestowed on the place its Roman name of Ptolemais, and by that name St. Paul

Judges i. 31.

records visiting it when he came thither by sea from Tyre, "saluted the brethren and abode with them one day" on his last journey to Jerusalem. Claudius conferred on it the privileges of a Roman colony. In the year 1191 Acre was closely invested by the Franks under Guy de Lusignan, and as obstinately defended by the garrison within and by Saladin without the city. The besieged kept up a communication with their friends outside the city, by means of pigeons in the air and divers under water, and not less than nine battles were fought between the hostile armies at the foot of mount Carmel. At length, after holding out for two years, and after the loss of at least half a million of Franks, it capitulated to our Richard I. Among the English barons who fell in the siege was William de Ferrers, lord of the honour of West Derby, and lord paramount of the manor of Warrington. But as our first Richard forced Acre to surrender, so our first Edward in 1271 relieved it from a second siege. Edward, then only heir apparent to the English crown, came to Palestine in pursuance of his promise to St. Louis, who was to have accompanied him, but died at Tunis, and did not live to accomplish his Although attended only by one thousand men at arms, Edward's name inspired the Saracens with such terror that they hired an assassin to murder him, and the

VOW.

wound he then received gave occasion to that instance of his wife's devoted heroism, which has made Queen Eleanor's name immortal. At Acre the queen gave birth to a son and a daughter, both surnamed after the place. Joan became the wife of the stout earl of Glocester. But John died as the king was on his return home. If he had lived, Acre had given a monarch to the English throne. But the deliverance of Acre by Edward was only of short duration. After the fall of Jerusalem, Acre became the metropolis of the Franks in the East; but in 1291, exactly a century after it had surrendered to Richard I., Khalil, the Mameluke sultan, besieged it with an army of two hundred thousand men, took it after a siege of thirty-three days, and, with the fall of Acre, extinguished the Frank rule in Asia.

Acre owes most of its present buildings to Djezzar Pasha, the butcher, who disregarded the rest of his pashalic to enrich this place. On the 6th March, 1799, Acre was besieged by Bonaparte, but Sir Sydney Smith, a countryman of our first Richard and our first Edward, by his skill in directing the fire of a body of Turks, who fought from behind a garden wall, effectually drove off the besiegers. In 1831, Mehemet Ali took Acre, and on November 3, 1840, the place was bombarded and retaken from his son, Ibrahim Pasha, by Sir Charles Napier. Is it not strange

that so remarkable a place should have more aliases than a London thief? It is the Accho of the Old Testamentthe Ptolemais of the New-the Ace of Cornelius Nepos (Datames), and the Acon of early travellers-the St. Jean d'Acre of the crusades-the Acre of the Franks, and the Acca of its present inhabitants.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 8.

EVERYTHING in the convent bore the marks of poverty and depression. One of the friars cooked my dinner himself, and the Arab boy who waited on me had evidently found out that his masters were poor, and was consequently pert and saucy in his behaviour to them. The only decorations of my sleeping cell were two common European prints, one “the taking down from the cross," the other "Saint Philomela." On taking down the latter, which hung directly over my pillow, to examine it a little more closely, I paid for indulging my curiosity by discovering behind it a whole colony of those wood insects whose specific name it would shock a polite pen to spell. There are twelve thousand inhabitants in Acre, of whom two hundred are Latin

66

Christians and one hundred Schismatic Greeks, or Greeks not in communion with Rome; the rest are principally Moslems. Notwithstanding the prospect of my nine hours' ride to Tyre, and that I was anxious to be off as soon as morn opened her eyelids," I was unable either to mount my horse or to bid the friars molte grazie, and receive their kind addios in return, until nearly eight o'clock. The people of this country must have a superstitious dread of silence, and must think that without incessant talk, life and activity would expire. Their voices are going all day long, and at night the dogs and cocks take up the chorus and continue it until day returns. "Some say that ever 'gainst that season wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated this bird of dawning singeth all night long," are the words of our immortal bard in reference to chanticleer, and the saying must be true here for not only at Christmas, but at all other seasons, the cocks crow throughout the night. As I rode out of Acre, through its wide and arched bazaars, I saw abundance of oranges, dates, water melons, and sugar cane for sale. I bought and tasted some of the oranges and melons, and found both of them excellent; the oranges were particularly grateful. Having emerged from the city, I rode for half-an-hour through gardens enclosed with tamarisks, which give the place