reading these lines, (which I entreat you to destroy when read,) or _that second_ may involve your ruin--and the ruin of all connected with you! Believe me, your distressed--your unalterable friend, "O. G." Mr. Aubrey laid down this letter; and sinking back again into his chair, yielded for some moments to an impulse very nearly akin to despair. "Oh God!" he exclaimed, pressing his hand against his aching forehead--"to what hast Thou destined us, Thy wretched creatures!--I am forbidden to believe--I cannot--I will not believe--that Thou hast made us only to torment us; yet, alas! my spirit is at length drooping under these accumulated evils!--Oh God! oh God! I am blind. Give me sight, to discern Thy will concerning me!--Oh give me not up to despair! _Break not the bruised reed!_ _Quench not the smoking flax!_--What is to become of me? Is this man Thy messenger of evil to me? Is he the subtle and vindictive fiend I fear him to be? What can be his object--his motive--for resorting to such tortuous and complicated scheming against us as must be his _if_ he be playing the hypocrite?--or is he really what he represents himself? And am I guilty of groundless distrust--of gross ingratitude?--What shall I think, what can I do? Oh my God, preserve my senses to me--my understanding! My brain seems reeling! My perceptions are becoming disturbed!--Perhaps this very night the frightful scene of the morning may be acted over again! again my bleeding heart be torn from those it loves--to whom Thou hast united it!"--A deep sigh, or rather groan, burst from him; and leaning over the table, he buried his face in his hands, and remained for some time in that posture. "What am I to do?" he presently inquired, rising, and walking to and fro. "_Fly_--he says! Were I weak and unprincipled enough to do so, should I not, in all human probability, fall into the deepest pit he has dug for me?--but be that as it may--_fly_ I will not! Never! Never! Those dear--those precious beings in yonder room"--his heart thrilled within him--"may weep for me, but shall never BLUSH for me!" "Why--how horrid is my position!" he presently exclaimed to himself! "Ten thousand pounds and upwards, must either I pay, or Lord De la Zouch for me, within a few months;--here is a second ten thousand pounds, with nearly five hundred pounds of interest; I have been to-day arrested for nearly fifteen hundred pounds; and this man Titmouse holds my bond for two thousand pounds more, and interest! Is it, then, Thy will, O God! that I am to sink beneath my troubles? Am I to perish from Thy sight? To be crushed beneath Thy displeasure?--Or merciful Father!--wilt THOU save me, _when there is none other to help_?"