more than hope-he feels certain that all will by-and-by be well. Of this we shall meet a remarkable illustration in the next sermon.

Eliphaz opens the second part of the discussion as he did the first. He is still less inconsiderate than the other two. But even he is by this time very wroth. He tells Job that he is self-condemned-condemned by his own impious language; and then he paints a sombre picture of the doom that awaits the wicked. Having no more visions to relate, he now falls back, like Bildad, upon tradition.

You say you are as wise as we are; but you do not talk like a wise man. Your arguments prove

nothing. Your words are as meaningless as the wind. When a man, once noted for piety like yourself, behaves in this way, he brings religion into contempt. Your own mouth convicts you, for you say that God is unjust. Pray, are you the oldest member of the human race? Do you belong to the Privy Council of the Almighty? Has no one any wisdom but yourself? What do you know that we do not know? Why, on our side are hoary-headed men, older than your father. With delicacy and consideration we have offered you the consolations of God, but you have spurned them.

How is it that you are so carried away

with passion as to speak blasphemy? about your sinlessness.

You talk

Why, the very angels are not faultless; the heavens are impure in the sight of God: how, then, can man be pure? Man drinketh in iniquity like water; he is altogether loathsome and unclean. Listen to me,

and I will give you the result of my experience. What I tell you is supported by the authority of my ancestors, who were never corrupted by heathen superstitions. As long as the wicked lives, he suffers torment and is in slavery. Terrible sounds are ever in his ear. Even in times of peace the spoiler falls upon him. He is marked out for the sword. He cannot tell where he may find bread to eat. He is in constant dread, until at last he is destroyed. He set himself against God, and proudly dared the Almighty's curse: but he shall never be rich. acquire soon passes away. ever escaping from the darkness that envelops him; nay, he knows that a yet darker day is coming. The only light he will ever see is the fire that shall consume his children. He himself will be destroyed by the breath of God's mouth. Fool that he is, let him expect nothing but evil as a reward for his deeds! He shall die prematurely, his children having perished before him.

Any wealth he may
He has no hope of

The

punishment of his doings is mischief, disappointment, ruin.

Job begins his reply to Eliphaz with a few sarcastic personalities, but soon turns to God passionate utterance of mingled complaint and entreaty, interspersed by occasional flashes

in a

of hope.

You are miserable comforters, all of you, with your empty truisms. What can induce you to talk as you do? Suppose you were in my place, and I were to string together maxims against you, and shake my head in disapproval of you, and offer to console you with heartless words, how would you like it? But ah me! neither speech nor silence can make much difference to my grief. My strength is exhausted. I am shrivelled up.

My emaciation is a witness against me.

God, like a beast of prey, is pursuing me with glaring eyes

and gnashing teeth. ready to devour me. He seizes me by the throat, He shakes me and rends me in His fury, and then flings me to the yelping pack. He has set me up as a target: His arrows are flying all about me ; they pierce to my inmost soul. He has stormed me like a fortress, and laid me low in the very dust. The shadows of

My friends are at His heels,

My eyes are red with weeping. death are gathering about me.

H

And all this

when I have done no iniquity, when I have been a sincere worshipper of God. O earth,

earth, that refuseth to drink the blood of the innocent, let my blood lie on thy breast, crying out in my behalf until I be avenged! I feel that I have a witness in heaven. I will turn from the friends who mock me, and look up beseechingly unto God. Though He is my Adversary, I will ask Him to be my Arbiter-to right me even though He condemn Himself to declare me innocent before my fellows. But it must be quickly done; for in a few short years I shall have reached the end of that path along which no traveller returns. My life is fast ebbing away. There remains for me nothing but the grave and the mockers who perpetually provoke me. O God, wilt Thou not give me some present pledge of my future justification? Wilt Thou not bind Thyself to appear for me? They are so heartless and foolish, Thou wilt never give the victory to them! They have been untrue to the duties of friendship; and they or their children must suffer for it. As for me, I am become a byword, an object of scorn, among men. My eye is dim with grief. My limbs are wasted into shadows. Good men are astonished and indignant at the treatment I am receiving. Nevertheless I am righteous. I will hold on my way, and in

Do

the end I shall find support.

not go away, my friends.

Return to your argu

ments. I am ready for you. There is not a wise man among you. My days are run out, my most cherished purposes are frustrated. You would try and persuade me that light may arise out of darkness. But it cannot be. If I have any hope, it is to reach my home in Hades. I have grown so familiar with the thought of death, that I say to the grave, Thou art my father; and to the worms, Ye are my sisters. This is my only hope; and it will be realised when I mingle with the dust.

Once again we must leave Job in the very depths of his divine despair. But it is, you will observe, a divine despair. It is caused by the conviction that some unaccountable misunderstanding has arisen between himself and God. Acutely as he feels his sufferings, he declares that he could bear them all with patience, if only he had the most distant hope of this misunderstanding being removed. Even when his words come nearest to blasphemy, we can detect in his heart the unspoken cry,—" Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides Thee."