And from the wicked their light is withholden,
And the high arm is broken.

Hast thou entered into the springs of the sea?
Or hast thou walked in the recesses of the deep?
Have the gates of death been revealed unto thee?
Or hast thou seen the gates of the shadow of death?
Hast thou comprehended the breadth of the earth?
-Declare, if thou knowest it all-

Where is the way to the dwelling of light,

And as for darkness, where is the place thereof;

That thou shouldest take it to the bound thereof,

And that thou shouldest discern the paths to the house thereof?
-Doubtless, thou knowest, for thou wast then born,
And the number of thy days is great!

Hast thou entered the treasuries of the snow,
Or hast thou seen the treasuries of the hail,

Which I have reserved against the time of trouble,
Against the day of battle and war?

By what way is the light parted,

Or the east wind scattered upon the earth?
Who hath cleft a channel for the waterflood,

Or a way for the lightning of the thunder;

To cause it to rain on a land where no man is;

On the wilderness, wherein there is no man;

To satisfy the waste and desolate ground;

And to cause the tender grass to spring forth?

Hath the rain a father?

Or who hath begotten the drops of dew?

Out of whose womb came the ice?

And the hoary frost of heaven, who hath gendered it?

The waters are hidden as with stone,

And the face of the deep is frozen.

Canst thou bind the cluster of the Pleiades,

Or loose the bands of Orion?

Canst thou lead forth the signs of the Zodiac in their season?

Or canst thou guide the Bear with her train?

Knowest thou the ordinances of the heavens?

Canst thou establish the dominion thereof in the earth?

Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds,
That abundance of waters may cover thee?
Canst thou send forth lightnings, that they may go,
And say unto thee, Here we are?

Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts?
Or who hath given understanding to the mind?
Who can number the clouds by wisdom?
Or who can pour out the bottles of heaven,
When the dust runneth into a mass,

And the clods cleave fast together?
Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lioness?
Or satisfy the appetite of the young lions,
When they couch in their dens,

And abide in the covert to lie in wait?
Who provideth for the raven his food,

When his young ones cry unto God,
And wander for lack of meat?

Knowest thou the time when the wild goats of the rock bring

forth?

Or canst thou mark when the hinds do calve?

Canst thou number the months that they fulfil?

Or knowest thou the time when they bring forth?

They bow themselves, they bring forth their young,
They cast out their sorrows.

Their young ones are in good liking,

They grow up in the open field;

They go forth, and return not again.

Who hath sent out the wild ass free?

Or who hath loosed the bands of the wild ass?
Whose house I have made the wilderness,
And the salt land his dwelling place;
He scorneth the tumult of the city,

Neither heareth he the shoutings of the driver.
The range of the mountains is his pasture,
And he searcheth after every green thing.

Will the wild-ox be content to serve thee?

Or will he abide by thy crib?

Canst thou bind the wild-ox with his band in the furrow?

Or will he harrow the valleys after thee?

Wilt thou trust him, because his strength is great?

Or wilt thou leave to him thy labour?

Wilt thou confide in him, that he will bring home thy seed,

And gather the corn of thy threshing-floor?

The wing of the ostrich rejoiceth;

But are her pinions and feathers kindly?

For she leaveth her eggs on the earth,

And warmeth them in the dust,

And forgetteth that the foot may crush them,

Or that the wild beast may trample them.

She is hardened against her young ones, as if they were not

hers:

Though her labour be in vain, she is without fear;
Because God hath deprived her of wisdom,
Neither hath he imparted to her understanding.
What time she lifteth up herself on high,

She scorneth the horse and his rider.

Hast thou given the horse his might?

Hast thou clothed his neck with the quivering mane?
Hast thou made him to leap as a locust?

The glory of his snorting is terrible.

He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength:

He goeth out to meet the armed men.

He mocketh at fear and is not dismayed;

Neither turneth he back from the sword.

The quiver rattleth against him,

The flashing spear and the javelin.

He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage;

Neither standeth he still at the voice of the trumpet.

As oft as the trumpet soundeth he saith, Aha!

And he smelleth the battle afar off,

The thunder of the captains, and the shouting.

Doth the hawk soar by thy wisdom,

And stretch her wings toward the south?

Doth the eagle mount up at thy command,

And make her nest on high?

She dwelleth on the rock, and hath her lodging there,

Upon the crag of the rock and the strong hold.

From thence she spieth out the prey;

Her eyes behold it afar off.

Her young ones also suck up blood:

And where the slain are, there is she.

The poetry of all this is sublime: but what is its bearing upon the subject of debate? The. link of thought appears to be this. Alike Job and the Friends have confined their attention to the mystery of human suffering, the mystery of Evil. The thought that comes to us out of the whirlwind is that the Good, the Great, the Sublime, in the universe is just as mysterious as the mystery of Evil. The mystery of human suffering is not solved; but mystery ceases to be a burden, when it thus appears that the Mystery of Good is as great as the Mystery of Evil.

At the close of this speech out of the storm Job is heard making submission.

I had heard of thee by the hearing of the ear;

But now mine eye seeth thee:

Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent

In dust and ashes.

It may be asked, Of what sin is Job here repenting? Job, conscious of innocence from any sin that would be commensurate with the judgment visited on him, has passionately longed to come into the presence of his Judge. Miraculously, this longing has now been satisfied. But in the immediate presence of God innocence feels itself guilty, and repents in dust and ashes.

Here drama stops, and we return to narrative story for the Epilogue.

STORY EPILOGUE

And it was so, that after the LORD had spoken these words unto Job, the LORD said to Eliphaz the Temanite, "My wrath is kindled against thee, and against thy two friends: for ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath. Now therefore, take unto you seven bullocks and seven rams, and go to my

servant Job, and offer up for yourselves a burnt offering; and my servant Job shall pray for you; for him will I accept, that I deal not with you after your folly; for ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath.

So Eliphaz the Temanite and Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite went, and did according as the LORD commanded them: and the LORD accepted Job.

And the LORD turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends: and the LORD gave Job twice as much as he had before. Then came there unto him all his brethren, and all his sisters, and all they that had been of his acquaintance before, and did eat bread with him in his house: and they bemoaned him, and comforted him concerning all the evil that the LORD had brought upon him: every man also gave him a piece of money, and every one a ring of gold.

So the LORD blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning: and he had fourteen thousand sheep, and six thousand camels, and a thousand yoke of oxen, and a thousand she-asses. He had also seven sons and three daughters. And in all the land were no women found so fair as the daughters of Job: and their father gave them inheritance among their brethren.

And after this Job lived an hundred and forty years, and saw his sons, and his sons' sons, even four generations. So Job died, being old and full of days.

The opening words of this Epilogue show us God justifying Job as against the Friends, thus bringing out one more aspect to the problem of human suffering; a solution in so far that it puts the true attitude to suffering while it is yet a mystery. The strong faith of Job, which had dared to appeal from a visible judgment of God to the eternal justice behind it, is more acceptable than the servile adoration of the Friends who would ignore facts for the glory of God. Passionate groping after truth, however involved in ignorance, is a higher thing than passive orthodoxy.

Then the Epilogue describes the deliverance of Job from his trouble, and the restoration of his former prosperity. The narrative story is thus complete; viewed as a whole it suggests the most important of the solutions offered in the Book of Job to the problem of human suffering. What the Council in Heaven has put before us