For this he listen’d--but, alas! he found 300 The preacher always on forbidden ground. And now the uncle left the hated pew, With James, and James’s conduct in his view. A long farewell to all his favourite schemes! } For now no crazed fanatic’s frantic dreams } Seem’d vile as James’s conduct, or as James. } All he had long derided, hated, fear’d, This from the chosen youth the uncle heard-- The needless pause, the fierce disorder’d air, The groan for sin, the vehemence of prayer, 310 Gave birth to wrath, that, in a long discourse Of grace, triumphant rose to four-fold force. He found his thoughts despised, his rules transgress’d; } And, while the anger kindled in his breast, } The pain must be endured that could not be express’d. } Each new idea more inflamed his ire, As fuel thrown upon a rising fire: A hearer yet, he sought by threatening sign To ease his heart, and awe the young divine; But James refused those angry looks to meet, 320 Till he dismiss’d his flock, and left his seat. Exhausted then he felt his trembling frame, But fix’d his soul--his sentiments the same; And therefore wise it seem’d to fly from rage, And seek for shelter in his parsonage: There, if forsaken, yet consoled to find Some comforts left, though not a few resign’d; There, if he lost an erring parent’s love, An honest conscience must the cause approve; If the nice palate were no longer fed, 330 The mind enjoy’d delicious thoughts instead; And if some part of earthly good was flown, Still was the tithe of ten good farms his own. Fear now, and discord, in the village reign, } The cool remonstrate, and the meek complain; } But there is war within, and wisdom pleads in vain. } Now dreads the uncle, and proclaims his dread, Lest the boy-priest should turn each rustic head; The certain converts cost him certain wo; The doubtful fear lest they should join the foe; 340 Matrons of old, with whom he used to joke, Now pass his Honour with a pious look; Lasses, who met him once with lively airs, Now cross his way, and gravely walk to prayers; An old companion, whom he long has loved, By coward fears confess’d his conscience moved; As the third bottle gave its spirit forth. And they bore witness to departed worth, The friend arose, and he too would depart-- “Man,” said the ’squire, “thou wert not wont to start; 350 Hast thou attended to that foolish boy, Who would abridge all comforts, or destroy?” Yes, he had listen’d, who had slumber’d long, And was convinced that something must be wrong; But, though affected, still his yielding heart, And craving palate, took the uncle’s part. Wine now oppress’d him, who, when free from wine,