As we drive to the cemetery this cloudless August day there is little to remind us of northern latitudes: warm yellow walls, burning blue heaven, venerable fig-trees white with dust, peach and olive orchards--all combine to conjure up a vision of the far-off East. The perpetual wind, however, cools the air, and if it has not the delicious freshness of the desert breeze tasted towards nightfall near Cairo, at least it makes August in that apparently tropic region bearable. Avignon should without doubt be visited in the height of summer, otherwise we lose this Oriental aspect, which is its most striking and, at the same time, most beautiful characteristic. Passing the colossal palace of the popes--pity such superb masonry should be linked with the memories of crimes so horrible!--we reach the public gardens, containing the statue of a comparatively humble individual, who did more for the public weal than perhaps all the popes and anti-popes put together. This is Althen, who, by the introduction of the madder-root into France, promoted the peaceful industry and wellbeing of thousands of honest families. From the lofty terrace of this promenade--a natural precipice overlooking the river--we obtain a glorious panorama--the entire city, with its towers, palace, and churches, spread before us as a map, the glory of the Dauphinnois Alps, the magnificent Mont Ventoux stretching across the northern horizon, under the shadow of its sunny crest the pale violet hills of Vaucluse, and, to complete the picture, the Rhône, silvery bright--I protest it is not always muddy as some writers insist!--flowing swiftly between green banks towards the sea. An avenue of stone pines leads to the cemetery--announced by flower-stalls and stonemasons' yards--and we soon find the head-gardener--an ancient man, proud to show us the tomb of the 'grand Anglais.' 'Do my country-people often come here to pay their respects to this grave?' I asked. 'Oh, many, many!' he said; 'and the demoiselle, his daughter--it is she who sees to everything. She is always coming. Never was any grave so cared for, as you will see.'