Canal of St. Omers 91 



1788 



The long journey I had last year taken in France suggested a 

 variety of reflections on the agriculture and on the sources and 

 progress of national prosperity in that kingdom; in spite of 

 myself, these ideas fermented in my mind; and while I was 

 drawing conclusions relative to the political state of that great 

 country, in every circumstance connected with its husbandry. 

 I found, at each moment of my reflection, the importance of 

 making as regular a survey of the whole as was possible for a 

 traveller to effect. Thus instigated, I determined to attempt 

 finishing what I had fortunately enough begun. 



July 30. Left Bradfield; and arrived at Calais. — 161 miles. 

 August 5. The next day I took the road to St. Omers. Pass 

 the bridge Sans Pareil, which serves a double purpose, passing 

 two streams at once; but it has been praised beyond its merit, 

 and cost more than it was worth. St. Omers contains little 

 deserving notice, and if I could direct the legislatures of England 

 and Ireland should contain still less: — why are Catholics to 

 emigrate in order to be ill educated abroad, instead of being 

 allowed institutions that would educate them well at home? 

 The country is seen to advantage from St. Bertin's steeple. — 

 25 miles. 



7^A. The canal of St. Omers is carried up a hill by a series of 

 sluices. To Aire, and Lilliers, and Bethune, towns well known 

 in military story. — 25 miles. 



8/A. The country now a champaign, one changes; from 

 Bethune to Arras an admirable gravel road. At the last town 

 there is nothing but the great and rich abbey of Var, which they 

 would not show me — it was not the right day — or some frivolous 

 excuse. The cathedral is nothing. — 17^ miles. 



()th. Market-day; coming out of the town I met at least a 

 hundred asses, some loaded with a bag, others a sack, but all 

 apparently with a trifling burthen, and swarms of men and 

 women. This is called a market, being plentifully supplied; 

 but a great proportion of all the labour of a country is idle in the 

 midst of harvest to supply a town which in England would be 

 fed by one-fortieth of the people: whenever this swarm of 

 triflers buzz in a market I take a minute and vicious division of 



