IV.

Says the new-made Divine, "Your old modes we reject, Nor give ourselves trouble about them: It is manners and dress that procure us respect, And it 's _wrong_ to look for it without them." Says the grave peevish Saint, in a fit of the spleen, "Ah! me, but your manners are vile: A parson that 's blythe is a shame to be seen, And it 's _wrong_ in you even to smile."