SERMON XV.

JOB'S EXPOSTULATION WITH HIS WIFE.

JOB II. 10.

What?-Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil also?

THESE are the words of Job, uttered in the depth of his misfortunes, by way of reproof to his wife, for the counsel we find she had given him in the foregoing verse; namely, Not to retain his integrity any longer, but to "curse God and die."-Though it is not very evident what was particularly meant and implied in the words,-"Curse God and die,"—yet it is certain, from Job's reply to them, that they directed him to some step which was rash and unwarrantable; and, probably, as it is generally explained, meant that he should openly call God's justice to an account, and, by a blasphemous accusation of it, provoke God to destroy his being: as if she had said, "After so many sad things which have befallen thee,-notwithstanding thy integrity,-what gainest thou by serving God, seeing he bears thus hard upon thee, as though thou wast his enemy?— Ought so faithful a servant as thou hast been to receive so much unkind treatment, at his hands,—and tamely to submit to it?-patiently to sustain the evils he has brought upon thy house, and neither murmur with thy lips, nor charge him with injustice?-Bear it not thus; and as thy piety could not at first protect thee from such misfortunes,-nor thy behaviour under them could since move God to take pity on thee, -change thy conduct towards him,-boldly expostulate with him,-upbraid him openly with unkindness, call his justice and providence to an account for oppressing thee in so undeserved a manner, and

get that benefit by provoking him, which thou hast not been able to obtain by serving him,-to die at once by his hands and be freed at least from the greater misery of a lingering and more tormenting death."

On the other hand, some interpreters tell us,—that the word curse, in the original, is equivocal, and does more literally signify here, to bless than to blaspheme: and consequently, that the whole is rather to be considered as a sarcastical scoff at Job's piety; -as if it had been said,-" Go to, bless God, and die;--since thou art so ready to praise him in troubles as thou hast done, go on in thy own way, and see how God will reward thee by a miserable death, which thou canst not avoid."

Without disputing the merit of these two interpretations, it may not seem an improbable conjecture, that the words imply something still different from what is expressed in either of them;—and instead of supposing them as an incitement to blaspheme God, -which was madness,- -or that they were intended as an insult, which was unnatural,-that her advice to curse God and die was meant here, that he should resolve upon a voluntary death himself, which was an act not only in his own power, but what carried some appearance of a remedy with it, and promised, at least, at first sight, some respite from pain, as it would put an end both to his life and his misfortunes together.

One may suppose that, with all the concern and affection which was natural, she beheld her lord afflicted both with poverty and sickness;-by one sudden blow, brought down from his palace to the dunghill;-in one mournful day she saw that not only the fortunes of his house were blasted, but likewise the hopes of his posterity cut off for ever by the untimely loss of his children. She knew he was a virtuous and an upright man, and deserved a better fate; her heart bled the more for him ;-she saw

the prospect before him was dreadful;-that there appeared no possible means which could retrieve the sad situation of his affairs;—that death, the last, the surest friend to the unfortunate, could only set him free; and that it was better to resolve upon that at once, than vainly endeavour to wade through such a sea of troubles, which, in the end, would overwhelm him. We may suppose her spirits sinking under those apprehensions, when she began to look upon his constancy as a fruitless virtue, and, from that persuasion, to have said unto him,-Curse God, --depend no longer upon him, nor wait the issues of his providence, which has already forsaken thee:as there is no help from that quarter, resolve to extricate thyself; and, since thou hast met with no justice in this world,-leave it,—die,-and force thy passage into a better country, where misfortunes cannot follow thee.

Whether this paraphrase upon the words is just, or the former interpretations be admitted, the reply in the text is equally proper;-What!-Shall we receive good at the hands of God, and shall we not receive evil also? Are not both alike the dispensations of an all-wise and good Being, who knows and determines what is best? and wherefore should I make myself the judge, to receive the one, and yet be so partial as to reject the other, when, by fairly putting both into the scale, I may be convinced how much the good outweighs the evil in all cases? In my own, consider how strong this argument is against me.

In the beginning of my days, how did God crown me with honour! In how remarkable a manner did his providence set a hedge about me, and about all that I had on every side!-how he prospered the works of my hands, so that our substance and happiness increased every day!

And now, when, for reasons best known to his

infinite wisdom, he has thought fit to try me with afflictions, shall I rebel against him, in sinning with my lips, and charging him foolishly?-God forbid!O, rather, may I look up towards that hand which has bruised me, for he maketh sore, and he bindeth up; he woundeth, and his hands make whole. From his bounty only has issued all I had; from his wisdom -all I have lost: for he giveth, and he hath taken away: blessed be his name!

There are few instances of particular virtue more engaging than those of this heroic cast; and, if we may take the testimony of a heathen philosopher upon it, there is not an object in this world which God can be supposed to look down upon with greater pleasure than that of a good man involved in misfortunes, surrounded on all sides with difficulties,— yet cheerfully bearing up his head, and struggling against them with firmness and constancy of mind.

Certainly, to our conceptions, such objects must be truly engaging:-and the reason of so exalted an encomium from this hand is easily to be guessed: no doubt, the wisest of the heathen philosophers had found, from observation upon the life of man, that the many troubles and infirmities of his nature, the sicknesses, disappointments, sorrows for the loss of children or property, with the numberless other calamities and cross accidents to which the life of man is subject, were in themselves so great;—and so little solid comfort to be administered from the mere refinements of philosophy in such emergencies, that there was no virtue which required greater efforts, or which was found so difficult to be achieved upon moral principles,-upon moral principles, which had no foundation to sustain this great weight which the infirmities of our nature laid upon it:—and, for this reason, 'tis observable, that there is no subject, upon which the moral writers of antiquity have exhausted so much of their eloquence, or where they have

spent such time and pains, as in this of endeavouring to reconcile men to these evils; insomuch, that from thence in most modern languages, the patient enduring of affliction has, by degrees, obtained the name of Philosophy, and almost monopolized the word to itself, as if it was the chief end or compendium of all the wisdom which philosophy had to offer. And indeed, considering what lights they had, some of them wrote exceedingly well; yet, as what they said proceeded more from the head than the heart, 'twas generally more calculated to silence a man in his troubles, than to convince and teach him how to bear them; and, therefore, however subtle and ingenious their arguments might appear in the reading, 'tis to be feared they lost much of their efficacy when tried in the application. If a man was thrust back in the world by disappointments, or, as was Job's case, had suffered a sudden change in his fortunes, from an affluent condition was brought down by a train of cruel accidents, and pinched with poverty,-philosophy would come in, and exhort him to stand his ground;—it would tell him, that the same greatness and strength of mind which enabled him to behave well in the days of his prosperity, should equally enable him to behave well in the days of his adversity;-that it was the property of only weak and base spirits, who were insolent in the one, to be dejected and overthrown by the other; whereas, great and generous souls were at all times calm and equal: as they enjoyed the advantages of life with indifference, they were able to resign them with the same temper, and, consequently, were out of the reach of fortune. All which, how

ever fine, and likely to satisfy the fancy of a man at ease, could convey but little consolation to a heart already pierced with sorrow;-nor is it to be conceived how an unfortunate creature should any more receive relief from such a lecture, however just, than a man