But if thou now shouldst weigh them new in pound, We are not sure they would so long remain: All change is perilous, and all chance unsound; Therefore leave off to weigh them all again, Till we may be assur'd they shall their course retain."

"Thou foolish Elf," said then the Giant, wroth, "Seest not how badly all things present be, And each estate quite out of order goeth? And sea itself dost thou not plainly see Encroach upon the land there under thee? And th' earth itself how daily it's increas'd By all that dying to it turned be?

Were it not good that wrong were then surceast, And from the most that some were given to the least?

"Therefore I will throw down these mountains high,
And make them level with the lowly plain.
These tow'ring rocks, which reach unto the sky,
I will thrust down into the deepest main,
And, as they were, them equalize again.
Tyrants, that make men subject to their law,
I will suppress, that they no more may reign;
And Lordlings curb that Commons over-awe;
And all the wealth of rich men to the poor will draw."

"Of things unseen how canst thou deem aright,"
Then answered the righteous Artegal,

"Sith thou misdeemst so much of things in sight? What though the sea with waves continual

Do eat the earth, it is no more at all;
Ne is the earth the less, or loseth aught:
For whatsoever from one place doth fall
Is with the tide unto another brought:

For there is nothing lost, that may be found if sought.

"Likewise the earth is not augmented more

By all that dying unto it do fade;

For of the earth they formed were of yore:
However gay their blossoms or their blade

Do flourish now, they into dust shall vade.
What wrong then is it if that when they die
They turn to that whereof they first were made?
All in the power of their great Maker lie:
All creatures must obey the voice of the Most High.

"They live, they die, like as he doth ordain,

Nor ever any asketh reason why.

The hills do not the lowly vales disdain;
The vales do not the lofty hills envy.
He maketh Kings to sit in sovereignty;
He maketh subjects to their power obey;
He pulleth down, He setteth up on high;
He gives to this, from that He takes away:
For all we have is His: what He list do, He may.
"Whatever thing is done, by Him is done,
Ne any may His mighty will withstand;
Ne any may His sovereign power shun,

Ne loose that He hath bound with steadfast band.
In vain therefore dost thou now take in hand
To call to count, or weigh his works anew,
Whose counsels' depth thou canst not understand;
Since of things subject to thy daily view
Thou dost not know the causes nor the courses due.

"For take thy balance, if thou be so wise,

And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow;
Or weigh the light that in the East doth rise;

Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow;
But if the weight of these thou canst not show,
Weigh but one word which from thy lips doth fall:
For how canst thou those greater secrets know,
That dost not know the least thing of them all?
Ill can he rule the great, that cannot reach the small."

Therewith the Giant much abashed said

That he of little things made reckoning light;
Yet the least word that ever could be laid
Within his balance he could weigh aright.

"Which is," said he,

more heavy then in weight, The right or wrong, the false or else the true?" He answered that he would try it straight:

So he the words into his balance threw ;

But straight the winged words out of his balance flew.

Wroth wax'd he then, and said that words were light,
Ne would within his balance well abide :

But he could justly weigh the wrong or right.
"Well then," said Artegal, "let it be tried:
First in one balance set the true aside."
He did so first, and then the first he laid

In th' other scale; but still it down did slide,

And by no means could in the weight be stay'd:

For by no means the false will with the truth be weigh'd.

"Now take the right likewise," said Artegal,

"And counterpoise the same with so much wrong." So first the right he put into one scale;

And then the Giant strove with puissance strong
To fill the other scale with so much wrong:

But all the wrongs that he therein could lay
Might not it poise; yet did he labor long,

And swat, and chaf'd, and proved in every way:
Yet all the wrongs could not a little right down weigh.

Which when he saw, he greatly grew in rage,

And almost would his balances have broken:
But Artegal him fairly gan assuage,
And said, "Be not upon thy balance wroken;
For they do nought but right or wrong betoken;
But in the mind the doom of right must be;
And so likewise of words, the which be spoken,
The ear must be the balance, to decree;

The judge, whether with truth or falsehood they agree.

"But set the truth and set the right aside,

For they with wrong or falsehood will not fare,
And put two wrongs together to be tried,

Or else two falses, of each equal share,

compare:

And then together do them both
For truth is one, and right is ever one."
So did he; and then plain it did appear,
Whether of them the greater were attone:
But right sat in the middest of the beam alone.

But he the right from thence did thrust away;
For it was not the right which he did seek;
But rather strove extremities to weigh,
Th' one to diminish, th' other for to eke:
For of the mean he greatly did misleek.
Whom when so lewdly minded Talus found,
Approaching nigh unto him cheek by cheek
He shouldered him from off the higher ground,
And down the rock him throwing in the sea him drown'd.

Like as a ship, whom cruel tempest drives
Upon a rock with horrible dismay,

Her shattered ribs in thousand pieces rives,
And spoiling all her gears and goodly ray
Does make herself misfortune's piteous prey.
So down the cliff the wretched Giant tumbled;
His battered balances in pieces lay,

His timbered bones all broken rudely rumbled:
So was the high aspiring with huge ruin humbled.

That when the people, which had there about
Long waited, saw his sudden desolation,
They gan to gather in tumultuous rout,
And mutining to stir up civil faction
For certain loss of so great expectation:
For well they hoped to have got great good
And wondrous riches by his innovation :
Therefore resolving to revenge his blood
They rose in arms, and all in battle order stood.

267. Of the Lord's-Way.

CAVE.

TIME is a circumstance no less inseparable from religious actions than place, for man consisting of a soul and body cannot always be actually engaged in the service of God: that is the privilege of angels, and souls freed from the fetters of mortality. So long as we are here, we must worship God with respect to our present state, and consequently of necessity have some definite and particular time to do it in. Now, that a man might not be left to a floating uncertainty in a matter of so great importance, in all ages and nations men have been guided by the very dictates of nature to pitch upon some certain seasons, wherein to assemble and meet together to perform the public offices of religion. What, and how many were the public festivals instituted and observed, either amongst Jews or Gentiles, I am not concerned to take notice of. For the ancient Christians, they ever had their peculiar seasons, their solemn and stated times of meeting together to perform the common duties of divine worship; of which, because the Lord's-day challenges the precedency of all the rest, we shall begin first with that. And, being unconcerned in all the controversies which in the late times were raised about it, I shall only note some instances of the piety of Christians in reference to this day, which I have observed in passing through the writers of those times.

For the name of this day of public worship, it is sometimes, especially by Justin Martyr and Tertullian, called Sunday, because it happened upon that day of the week which by the heathens was dedicated to the sun; and therefore, as being best known to them, the Fathers commonly made use of it in their Apologies to the heathen governors. This title continued after the world became Christians, and seldom it is that it passes under any other name in the imperial edicts of the first Christian emperors. But the more proper and prevailing name was Kugiaz, or Dies Dominica, the Lord's-day, as it is called by St. John himself, as being that day of the week whereon our Lord made his