XII HUMAN NATURE REVEALED IN POETRY The Book of Job is a work of pure literature; it is a pastoral, it is a novel, it is a philosophical treatise in the form of a dialogue, it is a drama, and above all it is a poem. It is animated throughout by the very spirit of poetry-it is indeed one of the greatest poems of the world. As a pastoral, it deals with the land and possessions of a rich stock farmer; as a novel, it contains incidents so interesting that, once read, they are never forgotten; as philosophy, it deals with one of the most important problems, the significance of pain, and leaves us where all other treatises on this subject have left us, in the dark; as a drama, it has action and talk, both so appealing that when it was presented on the New York stage it had a long run; as poetry, it reaches the highest elevations known to the human spirit, and loses itself in the stars. It has everything except one thing-love o' women. Curious, that a narrative-pastoral-philosophical-dramatic-poem can be so thrilling without making any use of the chief material for all these forms of literature. It opens in the liveliest fashion, so lively that Goethe borrowed it for the opening of Faust. Job had that combination of piety and wealth so often exemplified in the town's leading citizen. He sought first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these other things were added unto him. Thus Satan sneered, as some of the ungodly do to-day, whenever Job was held up as an illustration of religion. It is easy to be good when you have plenty of money and good health-take these away and faith in God will have wings like riches and fly. So far as the problem of evil is concerned, it is interesting to notice that Satan spent his time traveling, going freely hither and thither, and was given a free hand. Thus the Spirit of Opposition, the Spirit of Negation, the Super-Mischief-maker was and apparently is eternally busy, and could point with pride to his solid accomplishments. God and Satan fought for the soul of Job, as they fight for every human being; apparently even the meanest is worth fighting for. No one has ever got any further with the doctrine of predestination than the coloured preacher who said, "God predestines man to be saved: the Devil predestines man to be damned; and man has the casting vote." Satan was allowed to try his technique on Job's prosperity and security. Four servants came running in turn to Job, bringing him news of disaster: the first spoke of robbers, who had destroyed property and servants; the second, of lightning destroy ing sheep and shepherds; the third, of three bands of marauders who stole all the camels and killed their drivers; the fourth, of a cyclone which destroyed the manor house and killed his seven sons. Job received these four blows with that equanimity that accompanies only the most steadfast faith. He worshipped God, who had given and taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord. When Satan appeared again before the Most High, he did not look like a defeated antagonist; he was reminded that Job's piety had not been lessened or stained by disaster. Satan suggested that there was one thing that no faith could overcome-physical suffering. It will be remembered that in In Memoriam we read, Be near me when the sensuous frame Is rack'd with pangs that conquer trust. It is unfortunate that just when faith should be brightest it is often most dim-in times of bodily anguish. When the body is racked with pain, religion should help to fortify the mind; but it is just then when religious feeling is often dominated and driven from the field by corporal discomfort. Shakespeare intimated that there was no philosophy proof against toothache; and it is true that until a philosopher can get the tooth fixed or removed, he is not likely to make any valuable contribution to human thought. No saying is more vain than to say that extreme pain stimulates and exalts the mind; it really stupefies one's thinking powers, and for the very simple reason that pain is so all-pervading that there is no room in the mind for anything else. Suddenly Job's portly body was embossed with boils; he could neither stand, nor sit, nor lie down with any comfort. His wife mocked his faith, and advised him to curse God and die. You see, don't you, how far you have got with religion? Perhaps she wanted to get rid of him. He must have been rather trying in the days of his health and prosperity; for there is only one husband more exasperating than an impatient one, and that is one who is patient. And what a sight he was now! Job rebuked her sharply for blasphemy, told her that we receive both good and evil from God, and must not expect continual fine weather. Up to this moment he had uttered nothing in rebellion or in despair; and it is just possible that his faith might have withstood even the boils if his three friends had not taken it into their heads to visit and console him. I say he might have triumphed over either the boils or the friends; but the combination was too much, even for Job, and he cursed his birthday. It was quite evident to the sufferer, as he saw the three approaching, with their faces properly adjusted for sympathy, that there was team-play here; they had evidently talked him over and made an appointment to visit him. Had he known the poetry of Browning he might have cried out to them: Has some plague a longer lease, He recognised them afar off, but he was so changed from the prosperous, upstanding, hearty man that at first they did not know him; when his identity finally became clear, they were so overcome as to be speechless seven days and seven nights. His appearance must have produced a terrific shock to silence such fluency as theirs. The seven days of silence were broken by the voice of Job, who uttered a noble psalm in praise of Death; his condition and the words springing from it take us back to those two wonderful verses in Ecclesiasticus, cited in a previous chapter-how bitter the thought of death is when one is healthy and prosperous, how welcome when one is in anguish, and especially when one "hath lost patience." Job exemplified this changing attitude in the change of his own condition. Eliphaz cleared his throat, and began somewhat doubtfully, "If we assay to commune with thee, wilt thou be grieved?" He reminded Job that no man was perfect, hence every one needs refinement by suffering; he advised him not to despise the chastening of the Almighty, but to have faith that he would come out of this trial a sounder and better man. But Job answered that the arrows of the Almighty had pierced him; that he was in such grief he longed |