ldren, the benefits of the
prescription which the 29th of September effected--a principle of the
law of Scotland that was long deemed inconsistent with the good of the
land, but now more properly considered as being no less in unison with
the feelings of man than it is with divine mercy.

THE COUNTESS OF WISTONBURY.

In the summer of 1836 I had occasion to make a journey into Wiltshire,
in England. As the business that called me there, although of sufficient
importance to me, would have no interest whatever for the reader, I will
readily be excused, I dare say, from saying of what nature that business
was. It will more concern him, from its connection with the sequel, to
know that my residence, while in England, was in a certain beautiful
little village at the southern extremity of the shire above named, and
that mine host, during my stay there, was the worthy landlord of the
White Hart Inn, as intelligent and well-informed a man as it has often
been my good fortune to meet with. The nature of the business which made
me a guest of Michael Jones, left me a great deal more spare time than I
knew well what to do with. It hung heavy upon my hands; and my good
host, perceiving this, suggested a little excursion, which, he said, he
thought would dispose of one day, at any rate, agreeably enough.

"I would recommend you, sir," he said, "to pay a visit to Oxton Hall,
the seat of the Earl of Wistonbury.[5] It is one of the finest
residences in England; and, as the family are not there just now, you
may see the whole house, both inside and outside. If you think of it, I
will give you a line to the butler, a very old friend of mine, and he
will be glad to show you all that's worth seeing about the place."

[5] Under this name we choose, for obvious reasons, to conceal the real
one.--_Ed._

"How far distant is it?" I inquired.

"Oh, not more than three miles and a half--little more than an hour's
easy walk," replied mine host.

"Excellent!" said I; "thank you for the hint, landlord. Let me have the
introduction to the butler you spoke about, and I'll set off directly."

In less than five minutes, a card, addressed to Mr. John Grafton,
butler, Oxton Hall, was put into my hands, and in two minutes more I was
on my way to the ancient seat of the Earls of Wistonbury. The directions
given me as to my route, carefully noted on my part, brought me, in
little more than an hour, to a spacious and noble gateway, secured by a