enduring suffering herself, she had to endure the sight of the sufferings of one whom she loved-one dearer to her heart than all others. She had suffered with him the loss of property, and, as far as we know, had been silent; she had borne with him the loss of their beloved children, and her heart had doubtless ached, as only a mother's heart could ache, under such a bereavement; but, dumb with grief, she had uttered no plaint, she had mourned in secret over her terrible affliction. At length, as her grief somewhat subsides, she is able to think of the sufferings which the father of her children must endure; she seeks him out. Alas! what a sight meets her eye! Is that bowed, weeping, loathsome object, seated in the open air, upon the ash-heap-is that her noble-hearted, her generous and pious husband! Oh, it is more than her already crushed heart could bear; her piety yields before her affection, and, under the natural impulse, and in evident distress, more on her husband's account than her own, she abruptly utters the unadvised words, "Dost thou still retain thy integrity? curse God, and die." Her language simply implies, that if all these sorrows were the rewards of a pious life, it was not worth while to retain his regard for God. If God could thus afflict his righteous servant, he was not worthy of confidence or service.

The thought was Satan's, but it accorded with the natural feelings of fallen sinful human nature, when sorely afflicted. Others have felt in a similar way, and have similarly expressed their feelings; they have even called God a hard master, and given vent to feelings of rebellion and murmuring.

The reply of Job exalts him the more, and causes his piety to shine with more brilliant lustre. Her unexpected impropriety of speech doubtless increased the sorrows of the already muchenduring man. He saw with pain that the piety of his wife was overcome by his accumulated calamities, but his only reply is the sad and gentle rebuke, "Thou speakest as one of the foolish women speaketh." In Bible language, folly is the opposite of

religion. Thou speakest as one destitute of piety; what, shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? This is the true expression of real piety; it submits to all the arrangements of God without a murmur, it acknowledges that it has no claim whatever upon God: certainly no claim which makes it wrong or unkind for God to visit with calamity those upon whom he bestows so many undeserved benefits. In all this, says the

sacred historian, Job did not sin with his lips.

But we have not yet fathomed the real depth of his afflictions, nor seen the full force of his trials. We have as yet only looked at the outer man; we have not noticed the thrusts of Satan upon his spirit, and have therefore only contemplated the lighter parts of his sorrows. Let us then endeavour to form some idea of the trials which the inner man endured.

The design of Satan was to induce Job to curse God; hence the suddenness and the order of the repeated blows with which he at first assailed him. He sought to excite wrath, anger, the desire of vengeance, in the heart of Job, against the human instruments who had robbed him of his property; and when he supposed that the heart of Job was filled with passion, and burning for vengeance against the Sabeans and Chaldeans, without giving him time to soothe his excited feelings by prayer, and perhaps to prevent him from having recourse to prayer, he brings the news of the destruction of his children by the winds of heaven-thus seeking to turn the unholy passions which he supposed had been excited, directly upon the Creator of the winds, and thus make him vent his angry feelings against God.

We should notice, also, the peculiar juncture at which Satan robs Job of his children; we have seen his anxiety for their spiritual and eternal welfare; and that it was especially called forth at those seasons when they rejoiced in their family gatherings. It was one of these occasions which Satan selected for their destruction, before their father had offered his usual sacri

fice, as atonement for their sins. The design of Satan was, that from the greatness and sudden nature of the calamity, Job might conclude that it was on account of their sins that the Lord smote them; that he might feel the anguish of fearing that his children. had died before the Lord, with sins unatoned and unforgiven. He would have the fearful idea press upon his spirit, that so very remarkable a providence as the destruction of his whole family on the same day and hour at which his property was swept away, and the fall of that particular house alone, in which his children were gathered, while the storm had destroyed no other dwelling in the neighbourhood, was a proof of God's special anger, not only with him, but with his children; judge ye how this thought must have pierced the heart of the anxious father!

Satan now allows some period of time to intervene before he attacks the person of Job; how great the interval we are not told. It was probably just sufficient to enable his victim to feel the full misery of his changed worldly circumstances, to mark the diminished respect and regard which followed the loss of property. Job speaks most touchingly of this:

"But now, they that are younger than I have me in derision-whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock.

"And now I am their song, yea, I am their by-word.

"They abhor me, they flee far from me,

"And spare not to spit in my face;

"Because He hath loosed my cord and afflicted me,

"They have also let loose the bridle before me "

This is, perhaps, the most bitter ingredient contained in the loss of property-the changed conduct of the world, the diminution of respect which accompanies it. Many, in our large cities, can give ample testimony on this subject. How has the iron entered their souls, as they have been made to feel the difference with which men treated them! The loss of wealth they could bear calmly-they could trace the hand of Providence in that;

but the loss of that respect which was paid to them as the possessors of wealth, cut them to the heart. This we see Job felt most keenly. It is of this he complains, and complains with great severity, and perhaps with indignant pride and anger: "I would have disdained to have set their fathers with the dogs of my flock." We praise not Job for this; it was, perhaps, his first sin with his lips; but we see how he was tried, by this circumstance. As soon as Satan, most wise to distress, found the spirit of Job sufficiently moved by the effect of his first assault, he prepares for the second, and sends the bodily affliction. We have already spoken of the trying nature of the affliction, as presented to the outward senses; but this was the smaller part. There was cruel wisdom displayed by Satan in its selection. It was a disease which, while it demanded not sympathy as if dangerous to life, not only made its victim an offensive and unpleasant sight to beholders, but was more calculated, perhaps, than any other, to distress the mind, and produce the sin which Satan sought to effect. The whole system of nerves, by which sensibility is given to our frames, lie immediately beneath the skin. It was directly in the region of these nerves that the disease of Job was placed. Severe pains, nervous irritability, sleeplessness, and burning fever, were the necessary result. Let him who hath seen the brain so disturbed by a disorganized nervous system as to reel and totter upon the very confines of raving madness, judge what must be the amount of effort required to hold the soul in patience under such a disease. To all these physical and mental sufferings we must add the direct effort of Satan upon the mind of Job, through his sympathizing and sorrowful wife; we must not lose sight of the fact that Satan had one single direct object in view, from the track of which, like a bloodhound, he never swerved for a single moment. His aim was to induce Job to curse or renounce God; and hence, with consummate art, when by the bodily pains and mental anguish he had prepared him to enter

M

tain the evil thought, he then suggests the very thought, by means of his suffering, bereaved wife; throws the very words into his mind by the tones of a familiar voice, softened and trembling under the severest affliction which a mother can endure.

But all these fail. Still more powerful influences, therefore, must be brought to bear upon his spirit; he must be irritated by injustice; be compelled to rely, while labouring under bodily pains, to false charges. Surely some improper words will drop from his lips. And here again we have an exhibition of the wonderful art of the great enemy of our souls. Having tried in vain to induce the unholy feeling at which he multiplied external and physical inflictions, he prepares to operate upon his mind by the most powerful instrumentality of his most sincere friends-friends who clung to him when all others had deserted him, and who thus gave the most decided evidence of the strength and reality of their attachment.

aimed by these

The rumour of his unprecedented calamities had spread far; and three of his aged friends, men of exalted worth and station, having heard of them, concert a plan to visit him in company, and to unite their efforts for his welfare, to mourn with him, and to comfort him. In the prosecution of their benevolent purpose they approach the place where they are told they will find their friend. They see in the distance a most wretched object, so wretched, so altered his whole appearance, that they would not have recognized him had they not been prepared for the change by previous reports. They were all so deeply affected at the sight that they burst into tears, rent their mantles, as expressive of their grief, and sprinkled dust upon their heads, as mourners in that day were wont to do. On coming into his immediate presence, they sat down with him upon the ground. whelmed were they with the sight of his melancholy condition, and so deep their sympathy, that none of them attempted to give utterance to his feelings for the space of seven days and nights.

So over