eins of a poor gentleman with about two hundred a-year, a house in
very bad repair, and family pride that seemed to flourish in
proportion as every thing else decayed. Some tourist, in the course of
his researches, encountered this Monmouthshire Marins sitting among
the ruins of his former state. The tourist was of a genealogical turn
of mind, and the Desdichado poured forth his hoarded boasts in his
sympathizing ear. "Out of this house," he said, pointing mechanically
to the tottering walls of his family mansion, but metaphorically
alluding to the House of Progers, "came the Joneses of Clytha and
Llanerth--out of this house came the noble Somersets, now Dukes of
Beaufort;" and so he went on, relating all the great and powerful
names that had owed their origin to his house. The tourist seems also
to have had some knowledge of architecture, for his answer to the
catalogue was--"Well, sir, it's my advice to you to come out of this
house yourself as quickly as you can, or it will be down upon you some
of these days to a certainty."

On passing Clytha, we enter into a territory which might more justly
be called Somersetshire than the county the other side of the channel.
The Dukes of Beaufort seem paramount wherever you go; and in every
town, and even in all the villages, there is sure to be a house of
entertainment with the royal portcullis on the signpost, and the name
of the Beaufort Arms. The domains of the family must be larger than
half a dozen foreign principalities; and, from all we heard, the
conduct of the present noble Somerset is worthy of his high
position--liberal, kind-hearted, magnificent. One thing very pleasant
to see was the little garden-ground taken from the road, and attached
to nice clean cottages, almost all the way. Little portions, about
thirty feet in depth, and considerable length, formed the wealth and
ornament of the wayside dwellings. They were all well filled with
apple and other fruit-trees, and stocked with useful vegetables. If
this is the plan of enclosing commons, we wish we were in Parliament
to give Lord Worsley our aid; for a few perches, well hedged and
carefully kept, are worth all the rights of pasture, whether of cows,
geese, or donkeys, that ever the poor possessed. Inside of this fringe
of rustic independencies, snug farm-houses rose up in all directions;
but, with a perverseness which seems characteristic of the whole
county, and not limited to farm-houses, or even semi-genteel