It was still to be the subject of a more distinguished catastrophe. Syria had been con¬ 
quered in two decisive fields by the Pacha; the battle of Nezib threatened to shake the 
Turkish throne. Negotiation with either of the contending powers had evidently become 
but a waste of time, and the war already menaced the peace of Europe, when England, at 
last, took upon herself the duty of achieving the general security. She sent a fleet to 
Syria. In a campaign of three months, it swept the coast of all opposition; and on the 
3d of November, 1840, appeared before Acre, the stronghold of the Pacha’s conquests. In 
a bombardment of three hours, it crushed the fortifications, drove the garrison from the 
City, and concluded the War! This exploit, unexampled in the history of combat, was 
richly rewarded by its fruits—the peace of Syria, the independence of Turkey, and the 
tranquillity of the world. 
ST. JEAN D’ACRE. 
This view gives the sea-face of Acre, exhibiting a striking succession of domes, minarets, 
and that general style of ornamental building, which is so attractive to the eye at a 
distance, but so frequently disappoints it on a nearer view. Still the Oriental architecture 
has a charm of its own. Whether from association, or from its intrinsic beauty, it always 
gives the impression of Caliphates and Sultanries; of manners when all that was romantic 
in the East was combined with all that was superb; and of ages when the Asiatic Sovereign 
habitually lived in a state of magnificent seclusion, and mysterious voluptuousness. 
Nothing has given rise to more learned, or more unproductive, dispute than the origin 
of the different styles. The most authentic theory seems that which would trace them all 
to the first dwellings of the respective nations. The Greek and Roman palace and temple 
were but improvements on the original habitations of climates, where the sun was genial, 
and the air refreshing; they are broad and lofty, spacious and open to the breeze.—The 
elegance of the Saracen dome is palpably modelled on the lightness of the Arab tent.—The 
Egyptian temple, massive, solemn, and dim, seems only a catacomb transferred to the 
surface; as the catacomb itself was probably only an enlargement of the first dwellings in 
a country of sand, and where the chief luxury of life was to escape the sun.—The Indian 
architecture strongly resembles the stalactite roof of the cavern, the immense solidity, and 
mystic grandeur of the Elephantas and Eloras — temples and palaces of Nature, worthy to 
stamp the taste and guide the genius of a race of Hierarchs and Sultans. 
