He loved a priest compliant, easy, still; Sums he had often to his favourite sent, "To be," he wrote, "in manly freedom spent; For well it pleased his spirit to assist An honest lad, who scorn'd a Methodist." His mother, too, in her maternal care, Bade him of canting hypocrites beware: Who from his duties would his heart seduce, And make his talents of no earthly use. Soon must a trial of his worth be made - The ancient priest is to the tomb convey'd; And the Youth summon'd from a serious friend, His guide and host, new duties to attend. Three months before, the nephew and the 'Squire Saw mutual worth to praise and to admire; And though the one too early left his wine, The other still exclaim'd--"My boy will shine: Yes, I perceive that he will soon improve, And I shall form the very guide I love; Decent abroad, he will my name defend, And when at home, be social and unbend." The plan was specious, for the mind of James Accorded duly with his uncle's schemes; He then aspired not to a higher name Than sober clerks of moderate talents claim; Gravely to pray, and rev'rendly to preach, Was all he saw, good youth! within his reach: Thus may a mass of sulphur long abide, Cold and inert, but, to the flame applied, Kindling it blazes, and consuming turns To smoke and poison, as it boils and burns. James, leaving college, to a Preacher stray'd; What call'd he knew not--but the call obey'd; Mild, idle, pensive, ever led by those Who could some specious novelty propose; Humbly he listen'd, while the preacher dwelt On touching themes, and strong emotions felt; And in this night was fix'd that pliant will To one sole point, and he retains it still. At first his care was to himself confined; Himself assured, he gave it to mankind: His zeal grew active--honest, earnest zeal, And comfort dealt to him, he long'd to deal; He to his favourite preacher now withdrew, Was taught to teach, instructed to subdue, And train'd for ghostly warfare, when the call Of his new duties reach'd him from the Hall. Now to the 'Squire, although alert and stout, Came unexpected an attack of gout; And the grieved patron felt such serious pain, He never thought to see a church again: Thrice had the youthful rector taught the crowd, Whose growing numbers spoke his powers aloud, Before the patron could himself rejoice (His pain still lingering) in the general voice; For he imputed all this early fame To graceful manner and the well-known name; And to himself assumed a share of praise, For worth and talents he was pleased to raise. A month had flown, and with it fled disease; What pleased before, began again to please; Emerging daily from his chamber's gloom, He found his old sensations hurrying home; Then call'd his nephew, and exclaim'd, "My boy, Let us again the balm of life enjoy; The foe has left me, and I deem it right, Should he return, to arm me for the fight." Thus spoke the 'Squire, the favourite nymph stood by,