ess to be found that points out the distinction of their
ranks. To my eye, they are all wretchedly ill dressed, for they wear the
same dark and dirty-looking calicoes which our Scotch maid-servants wear
only on week days. This gives to their dress an air of meanness; but
here the English ought to consider, that these cotton goods are in
France highly valued, and very dear, from their scarcity. Over these
dresses they wear (at present) small imitation shawls, of wool, silk,
or cotton. They have very short petticoats, and shew very neat legs and
ankles, but covered only with coarse cotton stockings, seldom very
white; often with black worsted stockings. I have not seen one
handsomely dressed woman as yet in France; the best had always an air of
shabbiness about her, which no milliner's daughter at home would shew.
They are said to dress much more gaily in the evening. When we mix a
little more in French society, we shall be able to judge of this.

This want of elegance and richness in dress, is, I think, one of the
marks of poverty in France. I have mentioned before the ruinous
appearance of the villages and houses. The excessive numbers of beggars
is another. The French themselves say that there is a great want of
money in France; they affirm that there is no scarcity of men, and that
with more money the French could have fought for many years to come.
They certainly are the vainest people in the universe; they have often
told me, _that could Bonaparte have continued his blockade of the
Continental trade a few months more, England would have been undone_.
They sometimes confess, that they would have been rather at a loss for
Coffee, Sugar, and Cotton, had we continued our war with the Americans,
who were their carriers. The want of the first of these articles would
annoy any country, but in France they cannot live without it: in England
they might.

* * *

This day, _Monday_ the 20th, we left Lyons at one o'clock in the
forenoon, travelling in most unfavourable weather, and through almost
impassable streets. The situation of Lyons is beautiful; the site of the
town is at the conflux of the Soane and the Rhone; a fine ridge of hills
rises behind the city; the innumerable houses which are scattered up and
down the heights, the fine variety of wood and cultivation, and the
little villages which you discern at a distance in the vallies, give it
the appearance of a romantic, yet populous and delightful neighbourhood.

We