especially the Porte d'Arroux. This stands on the north side of the
town, beyond the suburbs, its lofty arches spanning the road, and
wearing, from the distance, the look of an aqueduct. It is built of
huge blocks of stone adjusted without cement. Between the upper tiers
of arches are sculptured Corinthian columns, all happily uninjured. So
massive is this structure, so firmly it stands, that we feel as if,
like the Pyramids, it might last for ever.

Beyond, on either side, stretches the pleasant open country-fields and
meadows and market-gardens; whilst far away, in bright sunny weather
looking like a violet cloud, is the vast height of Bibracte, so
celebrated in the 'Commentaries.'

But the most curious monument at Autun is the so-called Pierre de
Couhard. From all parts of the city may be seen, rising conspicuously
from its green eminence, this stately relic-maybe of Roman or Gallic
times, perhaps raised of remoter date still--a vast pyramid of stone,
worthy to be compared to the great tomb of Caius Sextius in Rome.

It is a pleasant walk to what the townsfolk call the Pierre de Quare.
Leaving behind us the cathedral and suburbs, we follow a road winding
in a south-easterly direction to the little village of Couhard, watered
by a gurgling stream, and sheltered by a fair green hill. As we quit
the highroad to reach the monument, we come upon pretty pastoral
groups. It is supper-time-l'heure de la soupe, as French rustics say--
and before every cottage-door are squatted family groups, eating their
pottage on the doorsteps. Around are the dogs and cats, chickens, pigs
and goats. To every humble homestead is attached orchard, garden, even
a patch of corn or vineyard. All is peace and contentment.