When its Arch of Triumph falls, much of the glory of Saintes will fall with it; but it will probably one day become a commercial town; the steam-boats, which now stop below the venerable old bridge, will sweep over the spot where it stood for ages, and the old Roman arch will be considered in the way, and will be _removed_! The inscriptions on the _attic_, which is divided into three parts, I give from a work on the subject, as it may interest _archaeological readers_:-- INSCRIPTION ON THE ATTIC, NEXT THE TOWN.
"To Germanicus Caesar, son of Tiberius Augustus, grandson of the divine Augustus, great grandson of the divine Julius, augur, priest of Augustus, consul for the second time, emperor for the second time.
"To Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus, grand pontiff, consul for the fourth time, emperor for the eighth time the year of his tribunitian power.
"To Drusus Caesar, son of Tiberius Augustus, grandson of the divine Augustus, great grandson of the divine Julius, pontiff, augur." * * * * * INSCRIPTION ON THE FRIEZE, NEXT THE TOWN.
"Caius Julius Rufus, son of Caius Julius Ottuaneunus, grandson of Caius Julius Gededmon, great grandson of Epotsorovidus, priest, consecrated to the worship of Rome and Augustus in the temple, which is at the confluence, in his quality of intendant of works, has made the dedication of this monument." The inscription on the frieze, at the side of the Faubourg, is the same repeated.
There seems, however, to be much uncertainty as to who the monument was dedicated to, and the subject is a constant source of dispute with the learned: the inscription can hardly be said to exist at present, so much obliterated are the letters; but enough seems to remain to revive inquiry and puzzle conjecture.

The arch is more massive, but scarcely so beautiful as the arches at Autun, with which we were so much delighted: it is much more conspicuous and higher: both of those being on low ground.

There is no occasion to seek for this of Saintes; for it stands, like a huge baron of old, guarding the river: we saw a company of soldiers pass beneath it, as we lingered at a distance, and we felt astonished to think how, in the midst of the centuries of violence it had seen, in all the stormings and batterings and besiegings, it could possibly have escaped, and be still there, a monument of the power of the most redoubtable warriors of all.
Saintes is one of the most extraordinary towns I ever saw: it somewhat reminded me of Autun, of Provins, of Chateau Thierry; yet it is very different from either, and in fact "None but itself can be its parallel." It is separated into three towns, quite distinct one from the other, yet joined, like a trefoil.

As you stand on the broad boulevard leading above the first town, the other two spread out beneath on either hand.
The churches of Notre Dame, of St.Eutrope, and the cathedral of St.
Pierre, each claim a part.
Descending the _Cours_, the aspect of that division which claims the stupendous church of St.Eutrope[10] is wondrously imposing.

I never beheld anything more so, and we stood some time on the high-raised road which commanded the view, rapt in astonishment at the ruined grandeur before us.