which a true
Christian cannot approach in vain. Upon his bruised and bleeding
feelings were poured the balm of true religious consolation; and Mr.
Aubrey quitted his revered companion with a far firmer tone of mind than
that with which he had entered the vicarage. But as soon as he had
passed through the park gates, the sudden reflection that he was
probably no longer the proprietor of the dear old familiar objects that
met his eye at every step, almost overpowered him, and he walked several
times up and down the avenue, before he had recovered a due degree of
self-possession.

On entering the Hall, he was informed that one of the tenants, Peter
Johnson, had been sitting in the servants' hall for nearly two hours,
waiting to see him. Mr. Aubrey repaired at once to the library, and
desired the man to be shown in. This Johnson had been for some
twenty-five years a tenant of a considerable farm on the estate; had
scarcely ever been behind-hand with his rent; and had always been
considered one of the most exemplary persons in the whole neighborhood.
He had now, poor fellow, got into trouble indeed: for he had, a year or
two before, been persuaded to become security for his brother-in-law, a
tax-collector; and had, alas! the day before, been called upon to pay
the three hundred pounds in which he stood bound--his worthless
brother-in-law having absconded with nearly L1,000 of the public money.
Poor Johnson, who had a large family to support, was in deep
tribulation, bowed down with grief and shame; and after a sleepless
night, had at length ventured down to Yatton, with a desperate boldness,
to ask its benevolent owner to advance him L200 towards the money, to
save himself from being cast into prison. Mr. Aubrey heard this sad
story to the end, without one single interruption; though to a more
practised observer than the troubled old farmer, the workings of Mr.
Aubrey's countenance, from time to time, must have told his inward
agitation. "I lend this poor soul L200!" thought he, "who am penniless
myself! Shall I not be really acting as _his_ dishonest relative has
been acting, and making free with money which belongs to another?"

"I assure you, my worthy friend," said he at length, with a little
agitation of manner, "that I have just now a very serious call upon
me--or you know how gladly I would have complied with your request."

"Oh, sir, have mercy on me! I've an ailing wife and seven children to
support," said poor J