of Vincent, and the generosity of Guloseton. But I checked the risings of
my heart, and compelled my proud spirit to obedience.

I placed Guloseton's letter before me, and as I read it once more in
order to reply to it, the disinterested kindness and delicacy of one,
whom I had long, in the injustice of my thoughts, censured as selfish,
came over me so forcibly, and contrasted so deeply with the hollowness of
friends more sounding, alike in their profession and their creeds, that
the tears streamed fast and gushingly from my eyes.

A thousand misfortunes are less affecting than a single kindness.

I wrote, in answer, a warm and earnest letter of thanks for an offer, the
judicious kindness of which penetrated me to the soul. I detailed, at
some length, the reasons which induced me to the decision I had taken; I
sketched also the nature of the very important motion about to be brought
before the House, and deduced from that sketch the impossibility of
conscientiously opposing Lord Dawton's party in the debate. I concluded
with repeating the expressions my gratitude suggested, and after
declining all interference with Lord Guloseton's votes, ventured to add,
that had I interfered, it would have been in support of Dawton; not as a
man, but a minister--not as an individual friend, but a public servant.

I had just despatched this letter, when Vincent entered: I acquainted
him, though in the most respectful and friendly terms, with my
determination. He seemed greatly disappointed, and endeavoured to shake
my resolution; finding this was in vain, he appeared at last satisfied,
and even affected with my reasons. When we parted, it was with a promise,
confirmed by both, that no public variance should ever again alter our
private opinions of each other.