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, "Of things unseen how canst thou deem aright," "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; 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: Do flourish now, they into dust shall vade. "They live, they die, like as he doth ordain, Nor ever any asketh reason why. The hills do not the lowly vales disdain; Ne loose that He hath bound with steadfast band. "For take thy balance, if thou be so wise, And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow; Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow; Therewith the Giant much abashed said That he of little things made reckoning light; "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, But he could justly weigh the wrong or right. 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 But all the wrongs that he therein could lay And swat, and chaf'd, and proved in every way: Which when he saw, he greatly grew in rage, And almost would his balances have broken: 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, Or else two falses, of each equal share, compare: And then together do them both But he the right from thence did thrust away; Like as a ship, whom cruel tempest drives Her shattered ribs in thousand pieces rives, His timbered bones all broken rudely rumbled: That when the people, which had there about 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 |