INL. AUXILIARIS PRÆ.

In the ancient church of St. Honore, which stands in the center of all these Heathen and Christian monuments, are to be seen nine Bacchanalians of very ancient workmanship; where also is the tomb of St. Honore, employed as the altar of the church; and beneath the church are catacombs, where the first Christians retired to prayer during the persecution by the Emperors, and where is still to be seen their altar and seven ancient sepulchres, of beautiful marble, and exquisitely worked; the first is the tomb of St. Genet; the second of St. Roland, Archbishop of Arles; the third of St. Concord, with an epitaph, and two doves with olive branches in their beaks, cut in bass relief, and underneath are the two letters X and P; on this tomb is the miraculous cross seen in the heavens by Constantine, who is represented before it on his knees; and on the cover of this tomb are the heads of Constantine, Faustina, and his son; and they say the Emperor saw this miracle in the heaven from the very Cimetiere in which this monument stands, i.e. in the year 315; the fifth is the tomb of St. Dorothy, Virgin and Martyr of Arles; the sixth St. Virgil, and the seventh St. Hiliare, (both Archbishops of Arles,) who has borrowed a Pagan sepulchre, for it is adorned with the principal divinities of the ancients in bass relief.—It seems odd to see on a Christian Bishop's tomb Venus, and the three Destinies. The people here say, that this tomb represents human life, as the ancients believed that each God contributed something towards the being. Be that as it may, the tomb is a very curious one, and much admired by the Connoisseurs, for its excellent workmanship; but what is more extraordinary than all these, is, that this catacomb, standing in the middle of the others, with its cover well and closely fixed, has always water in it, and often is quite full, and nobody can tell (but one of the priests perhaps) from what source it comes. There is also in this church the tomb and a long Latin Epitaph of St. Trophime, their first Bishop; but the characters are very Gothic, and the Cs are square, [Image: E E with no mid bar]; he came here in the year 61, and preached down that abominable practice of sacrificing three young men annually. He died in the year 61, at 72 years of age. On the front of the Metropolitan church of Arles, called St. Trophime, are the two following lines, in Gothic characters, cut above a thousand years:

This church was built in the year 625, by St. Virgil, and is a curious piece of antiquity within, and particularly without; but I will not omit to give you one of its singularities within; it is an ancient and curious inscription in large Gothic letters, near the organ:

To read this you will see you must take the first letter of each verse: TRO, Trophemus; GAL, Galliæorum; and APO, Apostolus. The letter H, belonging to the word Joseph, must be carried to the word Orcho, and the P must stand by itself.

Trophimus Galliarum Apostolus, ut ros missus est, ex urbe Romæ rerum Dominæ Gemina de luce, scilicet a Petro et Paulo, Ecclesiæ luminaribus; Contrito orcho Letheo, nempe statim post Christi Passionem qua Dæmonis & orchi caput contrivit, semper animos nostras nutriet, cibo illo, divinæ fidei quem nobis contulit: ut alter Joseph qui olim Ægypti populum same pereuntem liberavit.

LETTER XXXVII.

Marseilles.

Soon after we left the town of Arles, on our way to Aix, and this city, we entered upon a most extraordinary and extensive plain; it is called the Crau, and is a principal and singular domain, belonging to and situated on the south side of that city; it is ten leagues in diameter; on which vast extent, scarce a tree, shrub, or verdure is visible; the whole spot being covered with flint stones of various sizes, and of singular shapes. Petrarch says, as Strabo, and others have said before him, that those flint stones fell from Heaven like hail, when Hercules was fighting there against the giants, who, finding he was likely to be overcome, invoked his father Jupiter, who rained this hard shower of flint stones upon his enemies, which is confirmed by Æschylus.

But as this account may not be quite satisfactory to you, who I know love truth more than fable, I am inclined to think you will consider Possidonius's manner of accounting for it more feasible: He says, that it was once a great lake, and having a bed of gravel at the bottom, those pebble stones, by a succession of ages, have grown to the size they now appear; but whether stones grow which lie upon the surface of the earth and out of their proper strata, I must leave you and other naturalists to determine, without repeating to you what Aristotle, and others, have said upon that subject; and therefore, instead of telling you either what they say, or I think, I will tell you what I know, which is, that barren as the Crau appears to be, it not only feeds, but fattens an infinite number of sheep and cattle, and produces such excellent wine too in some parts of it, that it is called Vin de Crau, by way of pre-eminence: it has a poignant quality, is very bright, and is much esteemed for its delicious flavour. The herb which fattens the sheep and feeds such quantities of cattle is a little plant which grows between and under the flint stones, which the sheep and other animals turn up with their feet, to come at the bite; beside which, there grows a plant on this Crau that bears a vermilion flower, from which the finest scarlet dye is extracted; it is a little red grain, about the size of pea, and is gathered in the month of May; it has been sold for a crown a pound formerly; and a single crop has produced eleven thousand weight. This berry is the harvest of the poor, who are permitted to gather it on a certain day, but not till the Lord of the Manor gives notice by the sound of a horn, according to an ancient custom and privilege granted originally by King Rene.—On my way over it, I gathered only a great number of large larks by the help of my gun, though I did not forget my Montserrat vow: It was a fine day, and therefore I did not find it so tedious as it must be in winter or bad weather; for if any thing can be worse than sea, in bad weather, it must be this vast plain, which is neither land or sea, though not very distant from the latter, and in all probability was many ages since covered by the ocean.

The first town we came to after passing this vast plain, I have forgot the name of; but it had nothing but its antiquity and a noble and immense old castle to recommend it, except a transparent agate statue of the Virgin in the church, as large as the life, with a tin crown upon her head. Neither the town nor the inhabitants had any thing of the appearance of French about them; every thing and every body looked so wild, and the place was in