I saw when
visiting the place in company with honest John Jones--he had now a spade
in his hand and was doubtless going to his labour. As I knew him to be
of a rather sullen unsocial disposition, I said nothing to him, but
proceeded on my way. As I advanced the valley widened, the hills on the
west receding to some distance from the river. Came to Tregeiriog a
small village, which takes its name from the brook; Tregeiriog signifying
the hamlet or village on the Ceiriog. Seeing a bridge which crossed the
rivulet at a slight distance from the road, a little beyond the village,
I turned aside to look at it. The proper course of the Ceiriog is from
south to north; where it is crossed by the bridge, however, it runs from
west to east, returning to its usual course, a little way below the
bridge. The bridge was small and presented nothing remarkable in itself:
I obtained, however, as I looked over its parapet towards the west a view
of a scene, not of wild grandeur, but of something which I like better,
which richly compensated me for the slight trouble I had taken in
stepping aside to visit the little bridge. About a hundred yards distant
was a small water-mill, built over the rivulet, the wheel going slowly,
slowly round; large quantities of pigs, the generality of them brindled,
were either browsing on the banks or lying close to the sides half
immersed in the water; one immense white hog, the monarch seemingly of
the herd, was standing in the middle of the current. Such was the scene
which I saw from the bridge, a scene of quiet rural life well suited to
the brushes of two or three of the old Dutch painters, or to those of men
scarcely inferior to them in their own style, Gainsborough, Moreland, and
Crome. My mind for the last half-hour had been in a highly excited
state; I had been repeating verses of old Huw Morris, brought to my
recollection by the sight of his dwelling-place; they were ranting
roaring verses, against the Roundheads. I admired the vigour but
disliked the principles which they displayed; and admiration on the one
hand and disapproval on the other, bred a commotion in my mind like that
raised on the sea when tide runs one way and wind blows another. The
quiet scene from the bridge, however, produced a sedative effect on my
mind, and when I resumed my journey I had forgotten Huw, his verses, and
all about Roundheads and Cavaliers.

I reached Llanarmon, another small village, situated in a valley