and singular familiarity with the customs and arts of Egypt; assuredly also there are now in the libraries of Europe many Egyptian papyri of the remotest antiquity on which similar ethical sayings and picturesque proverbs are inscribed. And, therefore, it is not unreasonable to assume, from the free use of Egyptian words in this passage, that here too we have ethical and pictorial sayings culled from the experience of ancient Egyptian sages. To these Bildad appeals-alleging (Verse 9) that the men of his own time had so brief a span and were so far removed from the origin of things, that they "knew nothing" compared with the leisurely ancients, whose days on earth were so much longer and who stood so much nearer to the original fountains of wisdom. They, he says (Verse 10), will give us words "out of their hearts," i.e. words tested and elaborated by the meditation of many years, words summing up their whole observation and experience of human life, and not mere windy nothings, like those of Job, thrown out at the mere impulse of the passing moment. The first proverb, that of the papyrus (Cyperus papyrus), is elaborated in Verses 11-13. This water-rush, or reed, the Arabs still call by its old name "Babeer," of which papyrus is the Latin and paper the English form. The papyrus springs up in marshes and in the borders of streams and canals, where the water soon dries up in the fierce summer heats; the finest of grasses, it often withers away in its first beauty. Side by side with it grows "the rush"-or, as Job calls it, the achu, an Egyptian, not a Hebrew, word-probably the edible rush (Cyperus esculentus), since the same word is used in Genesis. xli. 2, where cattle are described as feeding on it.1 The moral of the proverb is multiform. As the various kinds of Cyperus depend on the water they suck up, so the life of man depends on the favour of God. While that endures, he flourishes and luxuriates. When it is withdrawn-and it always is withdrawn from the wicked-he withers away; there is no need 66 1 In Verse 11 no less than three words in the Original-the words for "papyrus," grass," and "rush"-are Egyptian, and countenance the hypothesis of the Egyptian origin of these proverbs or parables. to cut him down or strike him down: it is enough that he is no longer cherished and sustained by the Divine grace. The second proverb, that of the spider's web, is elaborated in Verses 14 and 15; where the hope, the self-confidence, of the wicked is compared to a web cut in sunder, or cut asunder from its main support. In vain the spider flings his weight in this direction or that to balance it; in vain he grasps it with his claws to steady or guide it as it trembles in the wind; his struggles are useless and desperate; his shattered domicile falls into ruin and decay, and he partakes its fate. The spider's web, though it be so flimsy, is here called a house; so is it also in the Coran (Sura xxix. 40), where we find this singular passage: "The likeness of those who take to themselves guardians instead of God is the likeness of the spider who buildeth her a house; but, verily, frailest of all houses is the house of the spider. Would that they knew this!" Possibly the inspired Poet had the same thought in his mind as Mohammed, and meant to suggest that, however solid and spacious the abode of unrighteousness may look, it is flimsy and fragile as the web of the spider. The third proverb, that of the gourd, is elaborated in Verses 16-18. We infer that some kind of creeper, bine, or gourd, such as springs up with the most astonishing rapidity and luxuriance in the East, is here described from the very terms of the description. But it should be observed that the Poet never names it. The fact is that, in this last proverb, the moral breaks through the simile, or fable, all the way along; from the very first the inner spiritual sense is blended with the figure in which it was to be conveyed. The "he," the nominative of the passage, is not the gourd, or creeping plant, but the wicked man who is compared to it; it is his course which is described in terms suitable to that of the gourd. If we take the pains to disentangle the fable from the moral, what it comes to is this:-The unrighteous man is like a quick-springing luxuriant bine or weed, which grows green with sap in the sunshine, shoots out its suckers on every side, strikes down its roots into the fertile mould, and regards with special pride the fact that it has "a house of stones," i.e. that its roots are twisted round stones and its soft easily broken stem protected by them; in short that it has been lucky enough to spring up amid and under a pile of stones which shelter and guard it, and even feed and cherish it by retaining and reflecting the heat. But when it is plucked up, it leaves no trace behind it; the very spot in which the worthless parasite shot up is ashamed of it, and denies all knowledge of it. So the bad bold man builds up his fortunes rapidly, thrives in the warm stimulating rays of prosperity, flatters himself especially on the solid reality and stability of his possessions; but when his good fortune suddenly vanishes, when the blow falls that impoverishes and exposes him, the very society which cherished him and contributed to his success grows ashamed of him and denies all complicity with his frauds and crimes. "This," says Bildad (Verse 19), with keen sarcasm, "is the joy of his course," so base, so evanescent, conducting to so shameful an end; his lusty growth is but for a moment, and dies away to make room for fairer and more fruitful growths; the sinner's place is soon filled up and his very name forgotten. And then, in the closing verses of the Chapter (Verses 2022), he turns to Job, and applies these parables of ancient wisdom to his case. Not by complaining of the law of Divine Providence, but by complying with it; not by vainly craving that it were other than it is, but by accommodating himself to it and availing himself of it, will he regain health, wealth, and peace. God will neither spurn him if he does well, nor grasp him by the hand-to sustain him-if he does ill; but if he be or become perfect, i.e. of a single and obedient heart, then God will yet fill his mouth with laughter and his lips with song, so that all who hate him shall be covered with shame. On the whole what Bildad says is true enough. Where he errs is in supposing that he holds the whole truth, in assuming that there were not more things in heaven and earth than he had even dreamed of in his narrow philosophy. It is true that good comes to the good and evil to the evil; but it is also true that what is terribly evil in itself comes to the good, in order that it may conduct them to a larger and diviner good; and that what is most graciously and undeservedly good comes to the evil, in order that they may be persuaded to renounce that which is evil and cleave to that which is good. Had he known this, Bildad would not have so hastily and harshly concluded either that the affliction of Job was the punishment of some unknown sin, or that the death of his children was the natural and inevitable result of some secret and untraceable guilt. At the same time it is difficult to escape the impression that Bildad was a little disingenuous throughout his speech. In considering Verses 4-7 we saw that he veiled his entire conviction of the guilt of Job's children under hypothetical forms of speech; and in Verses 20-22 we find him hiding his conviction of Job's own guilt under similar forms. There can be no doubt that he was inwardly and entirely persuaded that the calamities which had fallen on Job were the consequence and the punishment of his sins; that he entertained little hope, no hope, for him until those sins were confessed and removed, for to that conclusion the whole drift of his argument steadily points; but he assumes a hope he does not really feel, and in a somewhat jaunty and insincere tone promises the afflicted patriarch a happy issue out of all his trials. 4. JOB TO BILDAD. CHAPTERS IX. AND X. Bildad had given new weight and edge to the accepted dogma of his time, that, in all the vicissitudes of their earthly lot, men receive the due reward of their deeds. Thinking, in Shakespeare's expressive language, to "patch grief with proverbs" he had adduced in proof of his thesis the sayings received by tradition from the sages of the antique world,"with a little hoard of maxims preaching down a sufferer's heart." But Job resents this attempt to array against him the wisdom of antiquity. He refuses to be "proverbed with grandsire phrases." He flames out with the keenest indignation against the dogma which Bildad had supported with ancient saws, of which he finds in Job a modern instance. He will have none of it. There is no comfort in it, and no truth. In form, his reply to Bildad closely resembles his reply to Eliphaz: in both he first meets the argument of the Friends, and then, breaking away from the narrow round of thought in which they revolved, he pours out his very soul in impassioned expostulation and appeal to God, his real, though unseen, Antagonist. His answer to the argument of Bildad is twofold: first (Chap. ix. 2-21), he affirms that, even if it were true that the providence of God is strictly retributive, that would bring no comfort to him, since, however righteous he may be, it is impossible for man to prove and maintain his righteousness as against the Almighty: and, second (Chap. ix. 22-35), he affirms that this assumed law of Providence is not its true, or at least that it is not its sole, law, since experience shews that the guiltless and the guilty are destroyed alike. Chapter x. contains the passionate expostulation with God, which Job founds on the premisses he had laid down in Chapter ix. CHAPTERS IX. AND X. CHAP. IX. 1.-Then answered Job and said: 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. Of a truth I know it is thus: But how shall man be just with God? He cannot answer Him one charge of a thousand. Who hath braved Him and been safe, Who shaketh the earth out of her place, Who commandeth the sun and it doth not shine, Who alone boweth down the heavens, Doer of great things past finding out, |