The beauties of religion. A poem. Addressed to youth. In five books. / By Elijah Fitch, A.M. ; [Five lines of quotations]

THE ARGUMENT.

An infidel, after a debauch, awakes with a resolution to pur|sue nothing but the pleasures of the world. His thoughts painted in words. At the appearance of Religion, and at her reproof, he expires. What indulgence Religion al|lows.

SOLILOQUY OF AN INFIDEL. BOOK IV.

THE night is gone, the rosy morn appears, And opening brings me to myself again. From stupefaction, from the fumes of wine, I start, with reason half awake, emerged As from a sea of thoughts tumultuous: Wherefore wake? to run the round of pleasure, Live high, taste life, for pleasure's my pursuit; To live a life of ease and merriment, Jocund and jovial in the joys of sense; I want no more; away all thoughts of God, Heaven, bliss and glory, in another state: I hate reversions, present's all my wish, The world's my happiness; take then thine ease, My soul, eat, drink, be merry, unconcern'd For future; seek them not, tho' Heav'n's the prize, Eternal life in Heav'n! a mere chimera! Fond fancy of the brain of senseless men: No life, but life on earth; the present's mine. The future none can tell, or how or where, In Heaven or hell, so the bold preachers teach; 'Tis naught to me; priestcraft's invention all, And robs me of life's pleasures, if believed; Believe who will, and mortify the body. For fields elysian, in aether's realms, perhaps, My resolution firm abides, and shall, Desires of flesh forever to fulfil,

And gratify my sensual appetites; To give loose reins to my impetuous lusts, Full scope to all my passions and desires, Pursue life's pleasures in perpetual round, In spite of God, or man, or Heaven, or hell.

Big resolution! this makes men of spirit! Noble and great's the soul with courage bold, That dares defy its God, his laws despise, Contemn his just authority, and break Jehovah's great commands, his counsels scorn. Puny and mean's the soul that bows to God, That fears his wrath, or trembles at his rod; That seeks his favour, importunes his smiles, Obeys his precepts, and expects his love. Not such a fool am I, aversion all To God and goodness, holiness, and hope Of bliss and glory in an unknown world. Forego life's pleasures for uncertain joys! Leave certain for precarious! how unlike To reason's maxim, to which I'll adhere, A bird in hand prefer to two in bush.

Hard and austere that master and his laws, Which bind to holiness; pleasures of sin Forbid, on pain of everlasting death: I'll burst his hands asunder, break his cords, Despise his threat'nings, disregard his frowns; Who's the Almighty, that I him should serve? Or if I pray to him, what profit then? I know of none: therefore from me depart, Almighty God depart, and I from thee; The knowledge of thy ways not my desire; No ways I'll know, or walk in, but the ways Which my heart chooses, and mine eyes do please, Resolved in pleasure all my days to spend, My fancy follow, cheer my soul with mirth, The feasts of Anoetis and bachanals Delight me more than all the ways of God. For God and all his works alike displease;

Himself, his works and ways, to me the same; All hateful, yea, Religion I despise, And all her votaries, those simple fools, That look for happiness above this world.

Come then, my heart, on sensual pleasures bent, Look earth around, see all things she contains, And seize on ev'ry pleasure as thine own: Wake all thy passions; gratify thy lusts; No pains or trouble spare; rise up, and run To catch the golden prizes as they pass, Wealth, honour, pleasure, all that earth affords.

Thus then in jovial merriment I'll live, Nor suffer aught to interrupt my joy: Now glide ye streams of pleasure, roses bloom, Sparkle ye glasses, and ye fair ones smile, Grace attend, soft music sooth mine ear.

But hark! it thunders, trembles earth around, The forked lightnings glare, the clouds in flames, And threaten present death to all my schemes, My hopes and joys! but wherefore fear? away All dread of death! it ill becomes the man Resolved on pleasure, God or death to fear; This takes the sweet of comfort from the joys Of earth, embitters ev'ry pleasure here. Why fear, or dread futurity? since naught's Beyond the grave, and fears of death kill all Life's comforts;—then depart, ye direful furies; Leave me in full possession of my joys: I will be merry, cheer my heart with mirth, And naught but death shall stop my gay career; Nor think of him untill he strikes the blow.

But what avails! my soul is haunted still; The flash of conscience is a fire within, That blazes and disturbs, I cannot quell, Its whispers oft are thunder to my soul, In spite of all my efforts make me fear. Oh! what if wrath divine should seize the wretch, Who, durst despise his God, his counsels scorn?

My merry bouts must end in sad despair; Such direful thoughts again I bid depart, Resolved in jovial merriment to live, Tho' conscience thunder with the voice of God.

While ruminating thus, the Goddess sat Veil'd in a mist; her eyes with lightning blazed, Burst the involving cloud, and thus severe: " Is this the language of a man awake, " Awake to reason! nay to madness rather! " Bold impious wretch, with brazen front erect, " Now hear, and tremble, for thy doom is come; " Conscience, the thunderer in ev'ry breast, " Will make the guilty tremble at himself, " And light of truth will burn thy hopes to death. " Low, mean, contracted thoughts of that great God, " Whose thunder rends the skies, whose wrath inflamed, " More fierce than lightning, rocks and mountains melts, " Make daring mortals tempt the wrath divine, " And, Typheus-like, insult that God supreme, " Whose way is in the whirlwind and the storm; " Who, if in wrath he thunder out of Heaven. " His lightning strikes his enemies to death. " Know then, in vain you'll call on mountains high, " And on the rocks, to fall and hide your head. " When thunder-bolts of flaming wrath descend, " To sink you in the dreadful deep profound! " Hast thou, hold impious wretch, an arm like God! " Or canst thou thunder with a voice like his! " Tho' high on proud presumptuous wings you soar, " Firm in thy purpose pleasure to pursue, " Regardless both of God and man push on, " An arduous enterprize! vain thy attempt, " To cool the burning fever of thy breast, " Or live in pleasure, while you live in sin; " For frequent disappointments breed despair; " And wrath incensed puts on the lightning's blaze, " To blast thy body, and thy soul destroy." She spake, then, hurl'd the lightning's forky blaze:

Starting he trembled, groan'd, turn'd pale, expired; Thus end the loved, the pleasing ways of sin.

See then the glass, design'd to shew the face And heart of an apostate infidel. Who views himself therein must blush for shame, If not all shame beyond; beyond all thought, That makes man, man; brutes only cannot blush.

Bewitching Circe's* 1.1 pow'rful charms, whose wand Apply'd, turn'd men to brutes, and held them fast, As poets feign'd, too fast to disengage, Are nothing more than domineering lusts, And seeking pleasures in what beasts delight. O what can stronger bind, or more bewitch, Than sensual pleasures? this the Goddess, sure, Whose all-bewitching wand spread o'er the heart, Turns rationals to brutes: the filthy swine Lie wallowing in the dirt, and love the mire. Here cease th' unpleasing theme, a theme that fills With horror human hearts; such thoughts as these Sink lofty rationals beneath the brute, Enough to shock e'en infidels themselves! The least said here; too much—haste then From this enchanted ground, to give thy soul Full wing to fly at infinite, and leave These grov'ling swine to wallow in the mire.

She ceased: a while I paused; then thus began: Poor wretch! how vile, beyond description vile! He burst all bounds, rush'd on destruction's point, False pleasure led him in the way to death. But is there no indulgence to be given? Brisk, lively fancy in the youthful mind Sportive will play; imagination warm Lively ideas in th' impassion'd heart Will raise, strongly excite to harmless sport;

The mind, as yet to nobler thoughts unused, Gay scenes in prospect rise, pleasing far as The infant soul can stretch her downy wings, And soar in flight;—must these at once be cropt? To which the Goddess fair made this reply:

Religion never need to be despised. T' enjoy all pleasures reason will permit, Ev'n all that earth affords is her's to give; For goodness infinite, love without bounds, Renew'd the face of earth, which sin impair'd, And gave to man to repossess her joys: Joyful in God, with these sweet earnest then Of everlasting joys near his high throne, Whose word prolific gives to nature births: Hence delicacies sweet to every sense: How great his goodness! all for man to taste. Earth thus a second time is given to man, And all her charming pleasures now his own; Receive, enjoy with thankful hearts the whole. But let all lead to him from whence all flows, Her pleasures then will lead to joys on high. Religion seeks the happiness of man, Body and soul prepares to taste life's sweets, The roll forever in the fount of bliss. How much has the Creator done on earth, To charm the eye, to gratify the taste, To please the ear, and fill the soul with joys! How shines creation in this pleasing view! Then smiles for man the beauteous earth, when dress'd In verd'rous bloom, laden with richest fruits; Her various products thy rapt soul may view, Enjoy to fulness, all thy senses feast. Hills, mountains high, how tipt with green and gold, While meads and vales and flow'ry lawns between! Trees bending their high tops obeisance pay, And bid all bow to him whose hand hath form'd The earth, planted the mountains, fix'd the hills, Groves, forests rear'd, and spread the dewy lawns,

And gives meand'ring streams to wind their way Thro' meads that smile, in nature's verdure cloath'd. How various, how delightful to behold! What beauteous prospects these to charm the eye! What rich perfumes from these the balmy air, On her soft wings, with ev'ry gentle gale, Wafts to and fro, to give to all a taste Of nature's sweets! Heaven' bounteous gift is this: Nor less, when hills and groves, lawns, meads and vales, Conspire in nature's notes with melody Symphonic numbers form, which wave the air, Soft, soothing, grateful to the ravish'd ear: A thousand songsters, in the groves conceal'd, Warble their notes, woods seem alive themselves; And vocal every mead, with low of kine, And hills and dales the same, with bleat of sheep, To the rapt ear what joy! how well instruct The soul to hymn her great Creator's praise, The bounteous founder of such rich repasts! Nor less regaled the taste from all that grows Of food for man, down from the stalled calves, And fatten'd lambs, and fruits of every kind, To the small berries creeping thro' the grass? From golden orange, nectarines and plumbs, Apples and pears, with downy peach and pine, Apples collecting richest tastes in one; From oily nuts of hazel, but-nut, wall, Which glad the heart, and turn to pleasantness The tedious moments of long winter eyes. What pleasure each revolving season brings, And joys still heighten'd by continual change. Winter's stern cold, which strips the earth of bloom, And sends the minstrels of the grove far south, When spent its rage, gives spring the greater charms, Reviving nature, with return of birds, To fill the air with sweetest avine notes, And blooming face of earth gives smiles to man, Maturing thro' the summer's heat those fruits

Which load the autumn, pour his bosom full, Rejoice his heart thro' winter's tedious cold. With potables of relish no less sweet, T' ally thy thirst, not to inebriate, The Author of all good prepares for man; And loads the earth with all those juicy fruits, Which well concocted, mixt, and fit for use, With lively colours sparkle in the glass, Exhilarate the spirits, warm the heart, Pears, apples berries rich variety Afford to please, refresh, and joy infuse. The blood of grapes, that rich and noble juice! Sweet cordial to revive the drooping soul, And with hilarity the heart inspires, In man, not only active mirth excites, But cheers the gods:— Partake the joy, nor let these sweets be lost, Which in such plenty stream from fountain head, Design'd to lead you to repose in him, As in an ocean of delight to dwell. As rivers rest in bosom of the sea. How joys thy soul 'midst such profuse delight, From the first fountain of eternal good! What streams that flow! turn where you will, you meet The Deity, and his rich goodness taste; From earth, from seas, from Heaven rich nectar flows, In streams as numerous as the drops of dew, And constant as the fleeting moments pass. In pastimes too she some indulgence grants; For the all-bounteous Parent of this world Not only gives the vivifying sun, And gentle showers, that earth with plenty teem, To saturate and cheer man's heart with joy; But fills the air and seas, and brooks and ponds, With wing'd and finny food, of all the best, That he might find a pastime to collect From air and water most delicious fare. Pleasure with profit vies, and exercise

Gives health; to fowl and fish what pleasures mix! When to the wood, or thro' the flow'ry lawn, Or o'er the pebbled beach, with hasty foot, And mind intent on game, he takes his piece; When the wild fowl in circling eddies play, And wheel about with phalanx broad in air, Eyes them askance, tempted by near approach His piece to level, sends the deathful lead, All scatt'ring wide amongst the thoughtless flock, With deadly wounds, and feeble, faithless wings, Come flutt'ring headlong down the feather'd race; Their shining plumage marr'd with dust and gore. Nor less the joy to take the finny tribe, With barbed hook, or the more fatal seine, See the rough sailors joyo••s with their net, Dragging enclosed a thousand helpless fish, Which rage and flounce, in wild disorder scared, Attempt in vain to break the twisted cord, Or push it back into the deep again; Men, resolute each other to assist, Drag to the shore, and toss upon the bank Their unresisting prey, now hopeless grown; With agonies they wring, and flap their tails, Sad token of their absolute distress! And pain'd with air, gasping for breath expire, Man feels a luxury from thousands slain. Be sparing of those sports, that life destroy. When life is all the pleasure they enjoy. Shall rationals, who life so highly prize, Delight in the extinction of all life, And call it sport and pleasure? Who can reflect on the last pangs of those Poor innocents! no harm can do, or mean, And not feel horror rise within his mind? But softly strike this fine and tender string; What Heaven has given to man, his right to take, The earth and all that's in it for his use, For profit, pleasure, not to sport with death.

But endless to recount the pleasing views, The grateful songs, and fruits pleasant to taste, With all earth's stores profusely spread abroad, Which strike the sense in such variety, No tongue can utter, no mind comprehend, But his, with plenty who his table spreads. His goodness, like his works, is infinite, Indulges all sufficiency, enough; Indulged to an excess, destroys the whole. If still indulgence more than this is sought, All social happiness she freely grants, Promotes all friendships, blends in bonds of love, Makes lovely and beloved, adds charms to charms, Makes fairer still the fairest, sweets bestows On friendship heighten'd by the social tie Of love parental, filial, conjugal: Here pleasures she confers mixt and sublimed; Uniting hearts and flesh, makes one of two; Which joys excites unknown to lawless lust. O she, the fairest call'd of human race! Last work of the Supreme, should be the best, And made for man, his solace in distress: Man of the earth was form'd, but thou of him, Doubly refined, so delicately sweet, The fragrant fields and roses rich perfume, When breath of morn their sweets waft o'er the mead, Fail yet in sweetness to the fair in bloom. All beauties of creation lose their hues; The glitt'ring gems on dewy grass turn pale, When mountain nymphs with sparkling eyes, and cheeks More fresh than roses. of vermilion glow, Press on the ravish'd eye, such beauteous forms In virtue should excel, and then the mind With grace would shine more bright, excelling far All other works of God, pre-eminent, And honour'd as befits by rougher man: Tho' weaker vessel call'ed, such mighty charms Gain high ascendant o'er the stronger feign'd;

And lay his boasted wisdom low in dust; Beauty in bloom, stronger than Sampson is! O'ercomes the wisdom of a Solomon! And tames the fury of a Peter's mind! Such mighty pow'r, so delicately fine! Needs temper'ment of grace to keep from harm; Without it, what destructive havoc's made, By glancing eyes, and glowing cheeks, and words Of downy softness, honey'd, female, fine; When practised by the fair, Kings leave their thrones; And mightiest conquerors bow, and stand and wait. Advantage gain'd more than equivalent, For nominal subjection; real none. Chaste wedlock then makes equal happiness.

"What if, since, daring on so fine a theme," I shew what honour, what respect and love, To female delicacy's due from man? If new the song, indulgence more is ask'd. The great, the noble, generous, manly soul, Will rise with indignation 'gainst the base, Who treat the blooming race with disrespect. No greater evidence of little minds, Than domineering with superior strength Over the harmless, inoffensive fair: Who thus pretend their greater power to shew, Their little meanness make conspicuous shine, Superior greatness to advantage shines, By making bless'd with succour timely given. To sense and manhood some are so averse, That neither charms nor beauty can impress With tenderness their hearts, obdurate grown; Too hard and rough a polish to admit: Hence brutal rage, and lust, and fell revenge, Like harpies in a flock, light on the fair, Despoil their beauty, rob them of their sweets, Mar their fine features, then forsake in scorn. While this right hand with force can wield the pen, Those adamantine, most unfeeling hearts,

Those hearts of stone, which batter points of swords, The pen with keener edge shall pierce and pain. The beauteous part of the creation's doom'd To feel a weight of woes unknown to man; Shut out from public life, in doors confined, Deprived of many amusements that give joy To life, which animate the soul, and health Maintain, which men alone freely partake, Weak and defenceless, look to man for aid; Lean on his arm, and ask his kind support: 'Tis part of manhood to assist, relieve, And render their hard lot the less severe. No man of sensibility, or sense Refined, will exercise superior power, But to asswage their grief, and render life More sweet, and make their weighty sorrows smile▪ To honour them religion strict enjoins; Tho' in subjection placed, temper'd more fine, And therefore weak, not valuable the less; The finest china no man estimates At cheaper rate than earthen; finest's best, Shall best and finest part of God's works, From whom all men have being, not be loved, Not honour'd and respected! shame to man! Unworthy of the name, who first seduce, Then leave alone to bear a freight of woes; Or with base insult heighten their distress. Man of all creatures cruelly severe, His roughen'd temper needs a polishment: 'Tis female softness smooths his rugged brow; This the sweet cement of society. All social happiness would fly from earth, Men wild would range the woods, and live in dens? Rude and uncouth, and sullen and morose, In mutual rage and deadly conflict meet, But for the silken tie of mutual love Between both sexes; reciprocally bless'd,

When love, and honour, and respect, as meet, Is given and return'd, sweet interchange!

If more than all is wish'd, she'll still indulge Whatever tends to humanize mankind, Soften the manners, molify the heart, Passions direct, restrain and govern well; What tends to grace the mind, give body charms, And happify mankind, my reign befriends, In harmless sport fair youth sometimes engage, Indulgent Heav'n permits, by innocent Diversions, to unbend the mind, to give A greater force, for actions greater still: And time matures for nobler thoughts and deeds. By exercise the body is inured, And some diversions brighten up the soul, Exhilarate the mind, and fit for use: The lute'S soft airs breath softness thro; the soul, Sweet melody attunes the heart to praise, A graceful movement gives the body charms, An easy motion regular and fine, With decent modesty improves the mind. When 'midst a seem'd confusion intervolved, From mazes intricate, at once unwind, The graces in their charming forms appear, Then order, harmony and love's display'd; A chearful joy in every face is seen, Brisk spirits move attuned; the mind is taught To love a movement regular and fine. Which gives a polish, makes the soul to shine.

The pencil dipt in various hues, to paint Great nature's works, affords a sweet repast. The mind with pleasing views of God is fill'd, His beauteous works more beautiful appear, Which captivate the heart the more they're view'd, And imitation gives more perfect charms. On fancy's wings ascend th' Aonian mount, And let the pencil sketch the landscape wide; Paint the Castalian fount, rising from foot,

Meand'ring thence thro' many a flow'ry mead, Blooming with violet and jessamin. On this side paint a row of lofty elms, Waving with negligence their branching arms; On that let rows of spruce and ever-greens Extend thro' country villages and towns, With birds of every kind perch'd on their boughs. Paint cities then extending on the banks, Whose thousand glitt'ring spires dazzle the morn; And on the placid waves make boats descend With streamers gay, and with their silken sails, Swell'd with Favonian breeze, the breath of eve. Fields next with growing harvests paint, And verdant pastures, fill'd with flocks and herds: And far beyond, a rising wood of pine, And cedar, ash and maple, oak an fir, With shade o'er shade, as in a theatre, Till topmost boughs are lost among the clouds. A lively green to southward make appear, Sloping far distant to the ocean broad, Where lofty ships ride on the foaming main. Far to the north, over a valley huge, Let the sight end abrupt, 'midst rocks and trees: Paint nature here dress'd in her negligee, A sylvan scene, with virgin tresses crown'd: Nor let luxuriant fancy go behind Luxuriant nature in her wild disports. To westward then a winding path, with trees Of goodliest shade, and bowers by nature form'd, Now roaring down a horrid crag, and then With gentle murmurs wind along the glade, Paint sweet-brier hedges to perfume the air, With pinks and roses strew the eglantine, And crown it with the lily's graceful head. Above let golden orange, nectarine With cherry, plumb and peach, apple and pear, Bend branches, low, tempting the hand to pluck,

Along the ground let all the charming race Of berries creep;—and then this motto place: " Fair works of nature are the works of God, " And God in all his beauteo is works is seen."

In all diversions innocence must lead, Seasons, and due degrees with care observed. Those plays which wreck and torture finest minds, Those harmful games which daily ruin fortunes, Take away the peace, destroy the quiet, And the soul undo, turn from, avoid, and shun; Avoid and turn away from such vain youth, As disrespect their God, blaspheme his name, And all Religion scorn; dare not to walk In such ungodly ways, lest you his end, His awful end, should share* 1.2 Indulge no lusts, The pleasures of the world hold in contempt, When they would lead you from the paths of peace, Indulgence then is fatal to the soul.

This truth in characters indelibly engrave, " No pleasure in the ways of sin is found; " All other ways are open to delight‖ 1.3

Notes

• * 1.1

  Bewitching Circe, &c. feigned by the poets and mythologists to be a forceress, and by her enchantments to turn men into swine, to re|present in the strongest expression the beastiality of intemperance and barbarity, or defects as to soberness and complaisance.
• * 1.2

  The end of the infidel before mentioned.
• ‖ 1.3

  The great Parent of the universe, by producing such a variety of creatures for the use of man, on earth, in air and waters, and by varie|gating the face of the earth with hills, vales plains, rivers, ponds, woods, &c. and by clothing hills and meads with verdurous bloom, intermixing flowers and fruits of infinite variety, seems to employ his wisdom for the gratification of all our senses. And to view all these, by the light of Religion, as the productions of the author of our beings, cannot fail to excite the most pleasing ideas of the eternal God, and fill the mind with love and gratitude.—And the contemplative mind will not only be filled with the most pleasing, but elevated conceptions of this most beneficent of all beings, who is the author of all that is fair, sublime and good.—And the contemplation of these beauties will lead the mind to the more great and noble things that he hath prepared for the satisfaction, comfort and eternal felicity, of our better part.—If so much is done for the pleasure of the animal nature, how much more may we rationally conclude that this all-wise and beneficent Being will do for that spiritual and immortal part he has given us?—With these considerations I trust none will be displeased, or think that the main design has not been attended to, when I have so frequently introduced the charming scenes of nature, together with the melody of hills, groves and vales, which should teach all rational beings to join the general cho|rus, and hymn the Creator's praise. For among the Beauties of Religion this is not the least, that it teaches us how to improve the world, and all things in it, to the glory of God, and leads us as it were by the hand through his beauteous works of creation, up to him who is the perfec|tion of beauty and excellency."