Bel. Why so?
Arb. You know I am of an open sociable disposition.
Bel. Perhaps he is so, too.
Arb. If he was, surely we should have been better acquainted before this time.
Bel. It may have been prejudice rather than temper that has kept you apart.
Arb. Possibly so. The 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.
Bel. Who is he?
Arb. A poor schoolmaster 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 warm. [The schoolmaster comes up.] Now, Mr. Penman, how do things go with you?
Pen. I thank you, sir, they have gone poorly enough, but I hope they are in a way to mend.
Arb. I am glad to hear it—but how?