AN ORTHODOX' INTERPOLATION

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about the miserable lot of the wicked and of their children, which seems not only disconnected with what has preceded but very inappropriate. If Zophar were the speaker, most of it would seem apposite enough and in keeping with Zophar's views; some have thought that this passage is really Zophar's third speech, which in the Hebrew text is now wanting. It may, however, be the insertion of an orthodox editor, and the original text may have been altered or curtailed to make room and way for it. Arguments which seek to claim it as a true part and parcel of a genuine speech of Job are ingenious but unconvincing.

[Let the lot of the wicked befall mine enemy,

And that of the evildoer mine adversary!
For what is the hope of the impious when he dieth,
When God demandeth his soul?

Will God hear his cry

When trouble cometh upon him?
Will he delight himself in the Almighty,
Will he always call upon God?

I will teach you concerning the hand of God:
The dealings of the Almighty will I not conceal.
Behold, all ye yourselves have seen it;

Why then do ye talk thus emptily? (?)

This is the portion of a wicked man from God,

And the heritage of the oppressor, which he receiveth of the Almighty.

If his children be multiplied, it is for the sword:

And his offspring shall not be satisfied with bread.

Those that remain of him shall not be buried at their death:

And their widows shall not weep.

Though he heap up silver as the dust,

And prepare raiment as the clay;

He may prepare it, but the just shall put it on,

And the innocent shall divide the silver.

He buildeth his house as a spider,

And as a booth that the keeper maketh.

He lieth down rich, but he shall not do so again;
He openeth his eyes, and he is not.

Terrors take hold on him by day,

A tempest stealeth him away in the night.
The east wind carrieth him away, and he departeth,
It hurleth him, as a storm, out of his place.

For God casteth upon him, and doth not spare:
Fain would he flee out of his hand!
Men clap their hands at him,

And hiss him out of his place.]

§ 29. The difference between human and divine wisdom.-Once again the thought suddenly changes, and we have a passage without any obvious connexion with what precedes or follows. It seems to be an interpolation from the pen of some one who wanted to show that wisdom, in the sense of providing a full explanation of the world's rule, belongs to God alone. The only kind of wisdom which man can achieve is 'do justice and love mercy, and to walk humbly before God.' The thought is worked out by a negative analogy. Man can see and work his way into the bowels of the earth, but he can never find the source and home of wisdom. Wisdom, the possession and knowledge of which would give the key to every problem in nature and man, is only known to and possessed by God. (Two passages in brackets seem later insertions; the second especially interferes with the connexion. The point is that wisdom can nowhere be found, not that it is very valuable or unpurchasable by gold and silver.) However dignified and fine this section is in itself, it does not seem appropriate for Job. There is no indignation or sarcasm visible in the final statement. Man's limitations are recognized with humility, not with anger or impatience. He is recommended to realize and observe them. It is uncertain whether the section was written by the interpolating editor, or taken by him from some existing source. The latter is more probable.

For there is a source for the silver,
And a place for gold which they refine.

Iron is taken out of the earth,

And stone is molten into copper.

Men set an end to the darkness,
And search out to the very end.

They sink a shaft into the ground,

Far away from men they hang and swing. (?)

[Out of the earth cometh bread:

But beneath it there is an upturning as if by fire.
The stones of it are the place of the sapphire:
And there is the dust of gold.]

HUMAN WISDOM AND ITS LIMITS

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That path no eagle knoweth,

And the vulture's eye
hath not seen it.
The sons of pride have not trodden it,
Nor the lion passed by it.

Man putteth forth his hand upon the rock;
He overturneth the mountains by the roots.
He cutteth out channels among the rocks;
And his eye seeth every precious thing.
He searcheth for the sources of the streams,

And the thing that is hid bringeth he forth to light.
For he looketh to the ends of the earth,

And gazeth about under the whole heaven.

But where can wisdom be found?

And where is the place of understanding? Man knoweth not the way to it;

Neither is it found in the land of the living. The depth saith, 'It is not in me':

And the sea saith, I have it not.' [It cannot be gotten for fine gold,

Neither shall silver be weighed as its price.

It cannot be weighed for gold of Ophir,
For the precious onyx, or the sapphire.

Gold and glass cannot equal it:

And the exchange of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold. No mention shall be made of coral, or of crystal:

For the possession of wisdom is above pearls.

The topaz of Ethiopia cannot equal it,

Neither may it be valued with pure gold.

Whence then cometh wisdom?

And where is the place of understanding?]

It is hidden from the eyes of all living,

And kept secret from the birds of the air.

Destruction and Death say,

'We have but heard the rumour thereof with our ears.' God understandeth the way to it,

And he knoweth its place.

When he appointed a weight for the winds,

And meted out the waters by measure;

When he made a decree for the rain,

And a way for the lightning of the thunder:

Then did he see it, and declare it ;

He established it, yea, and searched it out : And unto man he said,

'Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom

And to depart from evil is understanding.'

$30. Job's final soliloquy.-We now pass to a certainly genuine portion of Job's last, long speech. It is not a reply to the friends, but a prolonged meditation or soliloquy, ending up with a passionate appeal to God. He begins by drawing an elaborate contrast between the past days of his prosperity and the present days of his affliction. Of old he was honoured and beloved (and deservedly, for his conduct justified the admiration in which he was regarded). Now the most despicable wretches despise and taunt him. God persecutes him relentlessly. His life is one long misery and pain. He then suddenly turns from the contrast between Then and Now to a prolonged asseveration, cast in the form of 'an oath of clearing,' as Mr. Moulton calls it, that this Now is wholly undeserved. He goes through a catalogue of sins, and declares that if he were guilty of any of these, then indeed would he deserve the chastisement of God and man. The final 'if' is answered by no 'then.' In its place Job abruptly implores God to hear him. He has now,

as it were, handed in his plea and signed it. Let God reply. He does not fear God's charge. Let the indictment be produced. He wants to know it. He would even welcome it. In the pride and certainty of his innocence he would bind God's indictment upon his brow, and, crowned and garlanded like a prince, he would draw near to God in the full confidence of victory. He would seek to conceal no incident of his past, not a single one of all his steps in the path of life. Thus Job's last words sound a note of triumph. They are not only a final assertion of his own integrity; they are more. The confidence with which he seeks to approach God implies a faith that, in spite of all, God is and must be righteous. If God were unjust, then would Job tremble before God's presence in direct proportion to his own goodness. But now he clears himself at once of his own doubts and of the outworn dogmas of his friends. From the God who heaped upon him his unmerited calamities, the sufferer appeals to the true God behind the mask who must surely proclaim his innocence.

And Job continued his parable, and said,

Oh that I were as in months past,

As in the days when God preserved me;

When his lamp shined upon my head,

And when by his light I walked through darkness;

THEN AND NOW

As I was in the days of his favour,

When God wove a fence about my tent;
When the Almighty was yet with me,

When my children were about me;
When I washed my steps with cream,
And the rock poured me out rivers of oil;
My root was open to the waters,

And the dew lay all night upon my branch.
My glory remained fresh with me,

And my bow was renewed in my hand.

When I went up to the city,

When I set my seat in the public place, The young men saw me, and hid themselves, And the aged arose, and stood up.

The princes refrained from talking,

And laid their hand on their mouth.

The nobles held their peace,

And their tongue cleaved to the roof of their mouth.

Unto me they gave ear and waited,
They kept silence for my counsel.
After my words they spake not again;
And my speech dropped upon them.
They waited for me as for the rain;

And they opened their mouth wide as for the latter rain. When I smiled on them, they won confidence;

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And the light of my countenance comforted the mourners. (?) When I chose out their way, I sat as their chief;

I sat enthroned as a king in his army.

The ear that heard of me called me happy,

And the eye that saw me bore me witness:

Because I delivered the poor that cried,

And the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me: And I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.

I put on righteousness, and it clothed me:

My judgement was as a robe and a diadem.

I was eyes to the blind,

And feet was I to the lame.

I was father to the poor:

And the cause of him whom I knew not I searched out.