Pia Desideria or, Divine Addresses, In Three Books. Illustrated with XLVII. Copper-Plates. Written in Latin by Herm. Hugo. Englished by Edm. Arwaker ... The Fourth Edition, Corrected |
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| X. | X. |
| XI. |
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| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
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| VI. |
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| VIII. |
| IX. |
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| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
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| II. |
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 | Pia Desideria |  |
47
X.
Enter not into Judgment with thy Servant, O Lord,
Psal. cxliii. 2.
The
Master's Gains to a small Sum amount,
That calls his Servant to a strict Account;
And tho' the Servant has not wrong'd his Trust,
Where's the Applause of being only Just?
Vainly the Master does a Suit begin,
To gain a Vict'ry he must blush to win:
And if I'm over guilty made, no doubt
I must go seek some other Master out.
Believe me, Lord, to be Severe with me,
Will wrong thee more than my Offending thee.
I am so much too mean for thy Regard,
'Twill lessen thee to mind how I have Err'd.
What! must thy Registries the Pleadings show,
Swoln with the Hist'ry of my Overthrow?
Or can I hope my Cause shou'd Thine out-do,
Where Thou sit'st Judge, that art the Plaintiff too?
What Eloquence can plead with such success,
To free the Wretch that does his Debt confess?
Alas! what Advocate best read in Laws,
Can weaken Thine, or re-inforce my Cause?
Ah! not too strictly my Accounts survey,
Nor for Abatements let me vainly pray.
Both Heav'n and Earth thy boundless Mercy know,
To Pardon, easie; and to Punish, slow:
Ev'n when our Crimes pull thy just Vengeance down,
'Tis rather Grief, than Anger, makes thee frown:
And when thou dost our Punishment decree,
Thou seest our Stripes with more Concern than we;
And dost Chastise us at so mild a rate,
That what we bear, we scarce wou'd deprecate:
And tho' our selves we had the Judges been,
We hardly shou'd have lightlier touch'd our Sin.
But tho' this Character is All thy due,
Let me thy lightest Censures undergo;
For tho' thy Mercy does no Limits know,
Thy Justice must have Satisfaction too.
These Attributes in equal Ballance lye,
And neither must the Others Right deny.
No melting Passion can affect thy Breast,
Nor soft Intreaties charm thy Hand to rest:
Nor baffled Eloquence dares here engage:
But wants itself some happier Patronage.
No Fee, no Bribe, no Trick in all the Laws,
Can e'er prevail to carry such a Cause.
'Tis vain with Thee, Lord, to commence a Suit,
Whose awful presence strikes all Pleaders mute.
No other Judge so terrible can be,
To make me fear his strictest Scrutiny;
But Thy Tribunal, Lord, with dread I view,
Where thou art Plaintiff, Judge, and Witness too;
Where when my Sentence from Thy Mouth is come,
No Plea can urge Thee to reverse the Doom.
How this dread place augments the Guilty's fear,
Where so much awe and gravity appear!
Ev'n He whose Reas'ning did this Truth assert,
And shot a trembling into Felix Heart;
Who did not his own Judgment-Seat decline,
Cou'd without trembling never think of Thine.
And Wisdom's famous Oracle denies
The purest Soul unblemish'd in Thy Eyes;
Whose pious Father (after thine own heart)
Declares Thy Wrath the best of Man's desert.
And Job assures us, that the Stars, whose Light
Chears with kind infl'ence our admiring sight;
Tho' glorious all in our dim Eyes they shine,
Are only small Opacous Orbs in thine.
How then can weaker Beams support that weight,
Which shook these Pillars with such strange affright?
Or how can humble Hyssop keep its Wall,
When Libanus's stateliest Cedars fall?
That calls his Servant to a strict Account;
And tho' the Servant has not wrong'd his Trust,
Where's the Applause of being only Just?
Vainly the Master does a Suit begin,
To gain a Vict'ry he must blush to win:
And if I'm over guilty made, no doubt
I must go seek some other Master out.
Believe me, Lord, to be Severe with me,
Will wrong thee more than my Offending thee.
I am so much too mean for thy Regard,
'Twill lessen thee to mind how I have Err'd.
What! must thy Registries the Pleadings show,
Swoln with the Hist'ry of my Overthrow?
Or can I hope my Cause shou'd Thine out-do,
Where Thou sit'st Judge, that art the Plaintiff too?
What Eloquence can plead with such success,
To free the Wretch that does his Debt confess?
48
Can weaken Thine, or re-inforce my Cause?
Ah! not too strictly my Accounts survey,
Nor for Abatements let me vainly pray.
Both Heav'n and Earth thy boundless Mercy know,
To Pardon, easie; and to Punish, slow:
Ev'n when our Crimes pull thy just Vengeance down,
'Tis rather Grief, than Anger, makes thee frown:
And when thou dost our Punishment decree,
Thou seest our Stripes with more Concern than we;
And dost Chastise us at so mild a rate,
That what we bear, we scarce wou'd deprecate:
And tho' our selves we had the Judges been,
We hardly shou'd have lightlier touch'd our Sin.
But tho' this Character is All thy due,
Let me thy lightest Censures undergo;
For tho' thy Mercy does no Limits know,
Thy Justice must have Satisfaction too.
These Attributes in equal Ballance lye,
And neither must the Others Right deny.
No melting Passion can affect thy Breast,
Nor soft Intreaties charm thy Hand to rest:
Nor baffled Eloquence dares here engage:
But wants itself some happier Patronage.
No Fee, no Bribe, no Trick in all the Laws,
Can e'er prevail to carry such a Cause.
49
Whose awful presence strikes all Pleaders mute.
No other Judge so terrible can be,
To make me fear his strictest Scrutiny;
But Thy Tribunal, Lord, with dread I view,
Where thou art Plaintiff, Judge, and Witness too;
Where when my Sentence from Thy Mouth is come,
No Plea can urge Thee to reverse the Doom.
How this dread place augments the Guilty's fear,
Where so much awe and gravity appear!
Ev'n He whose Reas'ning did this Truth assert,
And shot a trembling into Felix Heart;
Who did not his own Judgment-Seat decline,
Cou'd without trembling never think of Thine.
And Wisdom's famous Oracle denies
The purest Soul unblemish'd in Thy Eyes;
Whose pious Father (after thine own heart)
Declares Thy Wrath the best of Man's desert.
And Job assures us, that the Stars, whose Light
Chears with kind infl'ence our admiring sight;
Tho' glorious all in our dim Eyes they shine,
Are only small Opacous Orbs in thine.
How then can weaker Beams support that weight,
Which shook these Pillars with such strange affright?
Or how can humble Hyssop keep its Wall,
When Libanus's stateliest Cedars fall?
50
When I behold my large unblotted Score,
And think what Plagues thy Vengeance has in store;
An icy Horror chills my freezing Blood,
And stops the active Motion of its Flood.
And think what Plagues thy Vengeance has in store;
An icy Horror chills my freezing Blood,
And stops the active Motion of its Flood.
As some pale Captive, when condemn'd to Death,
Loath to resign, ev'n his last gasp of Breath,
Beholds with an intent and steddy Eye,
The dreadful Instrument of Fate rais'd high:
Yet still unwilling from this World to go,
Shuns with a Start the disappointed Blow:
So, when I see thy Book, in which are writ
All the black Crimes I rashly did commit,
Amaz'd, I fly thy Bar; —
For how can Sinners that strict Place abide,
Where ev'n the Righteous scarce are justify'd?
Loath to resign, ev'n his last gasp of Breath,
Beholds with an intent and steddy Eye,
The dreadful Instrument of Fate rais'd high:
Yet still unwilling from this World to go,
Shuns with a Start the disappointed Blow:
So, when I see thy Book, in which are writ
All the black Crimes I rashly did commit,
Amaz'd, I fly thy Bar; —
For how can Sinners that strict Place abide,
Where ev'n the Righteous scarce are justify'd?
51
What can be thought so fearful, what so full of Trouble and Anxiety, as to stand to be judged at such a Tribunal, and to expect an uncertain Sentence from such a Judge?
Bernard. Serm. 6. super, Beati qui, &c.
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