CHAPTER XVI.

JOB'S THIRD REPLY TO ELIPHAZ.

JOB now answers the last speech of Eliphaz. He is agitated with the deepest and most mingled emotions. He expresses these tender and pathetic feelings at some length, and then attempts once more to prove to his friends the error of their views concerning him, and also in relation to the government of God over man, He sets forth the greatness and pungency of his sorrows, and alleges that his grief is more bitter than he had found words to express. He desires to bring his cause before God, inasmuch as he cannot obtain justice from his friends. But he knows not where to find God, who, he believes would, nevertheless, do him ample justice, and vindicate his innocence. In this dreadful dilemma, he finds

comfort in the thought that though he cannot find Him, still He could but know he was innocent, and would yet come forth and espouse his cause, and deliver him from his sufferings, and from the reproaches, and condemnation of his friends. He feels nevertheless troubled at the sore afflictions God sends on him, in view of his consciousness of innocence, and uprightness. He trembles, and quakes with fear in view of a Being who is almighty, and who exerciseth His sovereignty with unalterable purpose, and without giving any reasons for his dealings with his creatures. He feels that his judgments are dreadful. He then renews the argument, by which he attempts to reason with his friends, and show that God does not deal with the wicked here as they deserve, but that they live oftentimes in great prosperity. He maintains with great force that wicked men not only frequently escape condign punishment for their sins, but that this is generally the case. To make this fact more glaring he mentions several heinous crimes that men commit; he also alleges that the authors of these crimes go unpunished for a time, and that they thrive and prosper as if they were innocent of them. Among these wicked, and criminal persons, he mentions those who remove the ancient landmarks; the plunderers of flocks and herds; the oppressors of orphans and widows; those devoid of humane and tender feelings; the robbers of young children from the breast; those that take pledges of the poor; the murderer; the thief; the adulterer; the evil-entreater of the barren; the injurer of the widow; and the seducer of others from right to wrong. He says they are safe, and exalted for a little time. Yet God's eye is on them, and they will in time be taken out of the way, and cut off as the tops of the ears of corn. reply of Job was so conclusive, and correspondent with well known facts,

This

and general observation, that his three friends were confounded. They were so completely answered that Eliphaz and Zophar made no further reply, and Bildad only added a few sentences, in which he announced only a few general ideas, irrelevant to the controversy. Job had the correct view of the case, and maintained his positions with consummate skill and ability.

Then moved by sentiments so cutting and unkind,

In strains o'erwhelming uttered Job his mind.

To-day is bitter this my sore complaint,
Devoid of sympathy my soul doth faint.
No comfort yet your speeches do afford,
But deeper still your cruel words have scored.
My stroke is heavier than my groaning speaks,
My woe a new and stronger language seeks.
Oh! that I knew where Him my soul might find!
My friends are all so bitter, and unkind.
My mind is dark, dejected, and distressed,
My soul is gloomy, friendless, and depressed.
Upright, sincere, and free from mortal sin,
With rectitude, and innocence within;
Yet sore afflicted, broken, and contemned,
Attacked, impugned, suspected, and condemned;
Unknown, despised, and weary of my life,
Consumed by pain, and weaned by grief and strife
I turn from earth, and friends, with hopeful eye,
To that tribunal where my cause doth lie.
Oh! that I knew where Him my soul could meet!
That I might now approach His heavenly seat!
Before Him there I'd order all my cause,

And plead my innocence before His laws.

I'd prove myself the real friend of God,
Although afflicted by His chast'ning rod.
My whole integrity would I unfold,
And fill my mouth with arguments untold;
Produce the evidence of truth and right,
Benevolence and justice in His sight;
That no hypocrisy in me doth reign,
As now unjustly all my friends maintain.
I long to know the answer of that day,
And understand what He to me will say,
With power almighty will He break the reed?
Will His omnipotence against me plead?
Will argument and justice win the day?
Or might, and ignorance, and passion sway?
Oh no, indeed, for He'll not use His power,
In that important and tremendous hour;
To overawe and crush me down at length,
But rather He will give me heavenly strength;
To state the case in ev'ry shade of light,

And plead with force transcending human might.
The righteous there his cause may represent,
Assured of justice to its full extent.

The verdict too my doom for ever seals,
No higher court receives and hears appeals.

No human power will ever dare to say,
A word against the judgment of that day.
And hence for ever I shall thus be free,
From ev'ry man that vainly judgeth me.

Behold with footsteps I proceed to where,
My soul would meet Him, but He is not there;
I travel forward tow'ds the rising sun,

To see the wonders which His hands have done ;
But though I look with anxious, searching care,
I do not find his gracious presence there.
And backward then I journey tow'rds the west,
To see Him there in crimson vestments dressed;
Although pavilioned in the glorious eve,

I cannot yet His heavenly face perceive.
And northward also I pursue my way,

Where He doth work, and mighty signs display;
Enthroned in majesty and glory high,

And bright with splendors shooting through the sky.
But disappointed in those glories cold,

I cannot there Himself at all behold.

He hides Himself upon the southern hand,
In realms, concealed, within that distant land;
In wastes impassable, whose vast domains,
Extend unlimited in burning plains;
Unknown, untrod, within the torrid zone,
Where God resideth with Himself alone.
Yet here alas! His form I cannot see,
Although I search with tireless industry.
My confidence I do not hence forsake,
For He doth know the righteous way I take.
Although His person nowhere I can see,
Yet now I know His eye discerneth me.

Although Himself I never may behold,

When He hath tried me I shall shine as gold.
As raging heat doth not the gold destroy,
But purgeth from it ev'ry base alloy;

Consumes the dross, and makes the jewel shine,
With sparkling lusters, precious, rich, and fine ;
So purified with trial's fiery heat,

And crowned with virtues, noble and complete ;
My burning soul, with diamonds rich and rare,
In purest splendor, shall at last compare.
Pursuing near Him hath my spirit pleased,
My faithful feet his steps have always seized.
I've kept straight forward in His narrow way,
And not declined, on either side to stray.
I've gone not backwards from the words He said,
His lips commanding all my wand'rings led.

His words were sweetly treasured up within,

Far more than necessary food has been.

But yet unchangeable is still His mind,

And who can turn Him from His plans designed ?
Eternal purposes respecting me,

Unfolding marv'lously now seem to be.
And what His soul intense desireth too,
His power unbounded certainly will do.
For He performeth in His wisdom free,
The thing appointed and decreed for me.
Eternal order, steadfast and secure,

Unfolding slowly, yet divinely sure;