in the middle of summer, and where the cows are grazing by the
water-side. The air is warm and pleasant, the sky unclouded, and the
light of a glorious sun renders every object gay and beautiful. This
valley is, I think, much more beautiful than any part of France we have
yet seen. Through the passes in the hills, we have had some very fine
peeps at the country to which we are travelling. Every inch of the
ground on these mountains is turned to good account; as the grass, from
the soil and exposure, is very scanty, the peasants make use of the same
method of irrigating as at St Helena. Where there is found a spring of
water, they form large reservoirs into which it is received, and from
these reservoirs they lead off small channels, which overflow the field,
and give an artificial moisture to the soil. The houses of the peasants
are still excellent, but there appears a great want of cattle. The
fields are ploughed with oxen, very small and lean; we had two of them
to assist us on the way from St Simphorien to Pain Bouchain.

At Tarrare, I am sorry to say, we found a want of almost every comfort.
It is a pretty large town, neater in exterior appearance than any we
have seen, but very dirty within; it is famous for its muslins and
calicoes.----All this day we have had nothing but constant ascending
and descending; the country occasionally very fine, and always well
cultivated. The ploughs here are very small and ill made; they have no
wheels, and are drawn by oxen. Some of the valleys in our route to-day
would be beyond any thing beautiful, if varied with a few of those fine
trees, which we are accustomed to meet with every day in England and
Scotland; but the manner in which the French trees are cut, clipped, and
hacked, renders them very disgusting to our eyes. I have not seen one
truly fine tree since we left Paris, about the environs of which there
are a few. There is also a great scarcity of gentlemen's seats, of
castles and other buildings, and of gardens of every kind. France, one
would suppose, ought to be the country of flowers; but not one flower
garden have we yet seen.----Distance about 31 miles--to the
Half-way-House, between Arras and Salvagny.

* * *

(_Saturday, 18th._)--We left the inn at the half-way village, whose name
I forgot to ask, between Arras and Salvagny, at six this morning, and
arrived at Lyons at half-past ten. On the subject of to-day's route very
little can be said. The first part of it