A. What can you have to say to me now, Ned?

N. To ask pardon, Sir, for my misbehaviour, and beg you to take me again.

A. What have you so soon parted with your new master?

N. Mr. Goodwin never was my master, Sir. He only kept me in his house till I could make it up with you again; for he said he was sure you were too honourable a gentleman to turn off an old servant without good reason, and he hoped you would admit my excuses after your anger was over.

A. Did he say all that?

N. Yes, Sir; and he advised me not to delay any longer to ask your pardon.

A. Well-go to my house, and I will talk with you on my return.

B. Now, my friend, what think you of this?

A. I think more than I can well express. It will be a lesson to me never to make hasty judgments again.

B. Why, indeed, to have concluded that such a man had nothing of the gentleman about him, must have been rather hasty.

A. I acknowledge it. But it is the misfortune of these reserved characters that they are so long in making themselves known; though when they are known they often prove the most truly estimable. I am afraid even now, that I must be content with esteeming him at a distance.

B. Why so?

A. You know I am of an open sociable disposition.

B. Perhaps he is so too.

A. If he was, surely we should have been better acquainted before this time.

B. It may have been prejudice ra

ther than temper, that's kept you

asunder.

A. Possibly so.

That vile spirit of party has such a sway in the country, that men of the most liberal dispositions can hardly free themselves from its influence. It poisons all the kindness of society; and yonder comes an instance of its pernicious effects.

B. Who is he?

A. A poor school-master with a large family in the next market-town, who has lost all his scholars by his activity on our side in the last election. I heartily wish it was in my power to do something for him; for he is a very honest man, though perhaps rather too [The schoolmaster comes up. Now Mr. Penman, how go things with you?

warm.

P. I thank you, Sir, they have gone poorly enough, but I hope they are in a way to mend.

VOL. III.

A. I am glad to hear it--but how? P. Why, Sir, the free school of Stoke is vacant, and I believe I am likely to get it.

A. Ay? I wonder at that. I thought it was in the hands of the other party.

P. It is, Sir; but Mr. Goodwin has been so kind as to give me a recommendation, and his interest is sufficient to carry it.

A. Mr. Goodwin! you surprise me.

P. I was much surprised, too, Sir. He sent for me of his own accord, (for I should never have thought of asking him a favour) and told me he was sorry a man should be injured in his profession on account of party, and as I could not live comfortably where I was, he would try to settle me in a better place. So he mentioned the vacancy of Stoke, and offered me letters to the trustees. I was never so affected in my life, Sir;

I could hardly speak to return him thanks. He kept me to dinner, and treated me with the greatest respect. Indeed I believe there is not a kinder man breathing than Mr. Goodwin.

A. You have the best reason in the world to say so, Mr. Penman. Whatdid he converse familiarly with you?

P. Quite so, Sir. We talked a great deal about party affairs in this neighbourhood, and he lamented much that differences of this kind should keep worthy men at a distance from each other. I took the liberty, Sir, of mentioning your name. He said he had not the honour of being acquainted with you, but he had a sincere esteem for your character, and should be glad of any occasion to cultivate a friendship with you. For my part, I confess to my shame, I did not think there could have been such a man on that side. A. Well-good morning!