BEtwixt the confines of Arabia deserta and the Bankes of Jordan they disco­ver a little Country called Hus, There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job, and that man was perfect and up­right, and one that feared God, and es­chewed evil. Famous heretofore for having brought forth Gy­ants, but more happy for ha­ving been the divifion of the Tribe of Manassa. Here reigned a Prince named Job, descended of those great men, whom the Jews acknowledge for their Fathers, and who being no lesse illustrious for his Merit, then his birth, fea­red God, loved his subjects, & according a singular prudence with a rare simplicity fol­lowed vertue and shunned vice. And there was born unto him seven sons and 3 daugh­ters.

Heaven, which blesseth Marriages, and makes Fa­thers [Page 3]live againe in the persons of their child­ren had given him seven sons and three daughters, whose vertues were so rare that he was esteemed happyer for be­ing their Father, then for be­ing Soveraign of so many Sub­jects.

Nothing was wanting to him of all those goods, His sub­stance also was seven thousand sheep, & three thousand Ca­mells, and five hundred yoke of Oxen, and five hundred she-Asses, and a very great houshold; so that this man was the great­est of all the the men of the East. which are necessary for the entertain­ment, or pleasure of life; for his Shepherds drove into the field every day seven thousand sheep, his husband-men cul­tivated the earth with five hundred yoke of Oxen, and to carry his servants and his [...]aggage, there were seen wan­ [...]ing in the plaines three thousand Camels, and five [...]undred she-asses. These rich­es accompanied with all qua­lities that may make a Prince great, gave him the first rank amongst the Easterne people. [Page 4]He had not a neighbor but was his Ally, and he was held to be rash that durst be his enemy.

His children passed their time innocently, And his Sons went and feasted in their houses, every one his day, & sent and called for their three sisters, to eat & to drink with them. and their most agreeable divertisements were feasts, and every one did it in his own house as it fell to his turn; and as dissolution was banished thence, he who entertained the rest, never fal­led to invite his three sisters.

Although the peace which reigned amongst these bre­thren, And it was so, when the dayes of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt offerings ac­cording to the number of thē all [...] for Job said, It may be that my sonnes have sinned, & cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually. and which tyed the [...] soules more streightly th [...] blood and nature did their Bo­dies, ought to have quietes the mind of Job; notwith­standing when this circle o [...] days and feasting was finishe [...] he sent to visit them, and re­commended unto them not [...] much the care of conservin [...] amity amonst themselves, [...] conserving the respect the owed to God. And becau [...] [Page 5]prayers are more profitable then counsell, he rose every morning before the Sunne, and offered as many Holo­causts, as he had children, to the end that if by weaknesse or ignorance they had offend­ded God, their fault might be expiated by his sacrifices. he was so exact in discharging these pious duties, that those impediments which businesse gives to Princes, could not di­vert him from them.

But as a calme is the most assured presage of a tempest, Now there was a day, whē the sonnes of God came to present them­selves before the Lord, and Satan came al­so among thē. and the happinesse of men can­not long endure, a furious storm rose against this Prince: for it happened that God held Councell with those blessed Spirits, who carry his orders through the world, and that Satan the mortall enemy of man, and who derives his name from his crime was summoned thether.

God who serves himself sometimes with criminals to execute his designes, And the Lord said unto Satan: whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the Lord, and said from going to and fro in the earth, & from walking up & down in it. and who imployes devils to make an­gells, demanded an account of him of his actions, and his voyages, not that he was igno­rant of his designs, but that he would have from his own mouth what he had read in his heart. This subtile spirit who knowes well enough that God knowes all things, confessed to him that follow­ing his inclinations; he had runne over all the earth, and that nothing comforted him so much, as to know he should have many companions in his misery, because he had many in his sinne.

God who disdains not to treat with Devills when the salvation of man is concerned in it, And thē Lord said un­to Satan, hast thou conside­red my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, & escheweth e­vill? replyes to him in these terms: Hast thou not conside­red the fidelity of my servant [Page 7]Job? have not thy eyes seen that excellent Piety, that amongst all men one cannot finde his equall?

The Divell who hath no greater pleasure then to exag­gerate our faults, Then Sa­tan answered the Lord, and said, Doth Job fear God for nought? and beat down our good works, re­plies: the piety of Job deserves not those praises which you give him, he is wel paid for his services; and that slave would be very wicked who did not love so liberall a Master.

And besides you have so covered him, that one can­not touch him: Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on eve­ry side? thou hast blessed the worke of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land. your Angells watch about his house, and their care extends it self over all his estate, that it is suffici­ent to belong to him, for to be safe. The sun hath no favorable influences but for him. Hea­ven hath no dew but to enrich his lands; and his flocks ex­empt from those diseases which spoyle others, are so grown [Page 8]that the most firtile fields can hardly feed them. But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face.

You should try his ver­tue to know it, and though I read not the hearts of men, I assure my self that if your hand which punisheth us, had live­ly touched him, he would change his praises into blas­phemies, and make you see that he loves you not but out of interest. And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy pow­er; onely upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the pre­sence of the Lord.

God who knew the strength of Job, and would make his vertue shine by his misfortune, condescending in appearance to the desires of the Divell, said to him, I make over to thee the House of my servant, and re­serving nothing but his per­son, I give thee power to exer­cise thy cruelty upon all that belongs unto him. Scarce had he ended these words, when the Divell like lightning des­cended upon the earth to [Page 9]search occasions to ruine Job, And there was a day whe his sons & his daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brothers house and to triumph over his pati­ence.

The hatred which he hath conceived against men permitted him not long to de­ferre his designe, and his inge­nuous malice furnished him with means enough to make it quickly succeed. For as the children of Job were in the house of their eldest brother who entertained them, And there came a messen­ger unto Job, and said, The Oxen were plowing, and the Asses feed­ing beside the. and as their father who knew of this meeting seemed to be lesse pre­pared against this misfortune.

A messenger comes and tells him, And the Sabeans fell upon them, and took them away, yea, they have slaine the servants with the edge of the sword, & I on­ly am escaped alone to tell thee. that while his Oxen were plowing, and his Asses passing quietly by them in the field, the Sabeans arri­ved upon a suddain had carry­ed them away, that his ser­vants who would put them­selves on their defence had bin cruelly assassined, and that he onely was escaped from their [Page 10]hands to bring him the news.

This sad messenger had not finished his discourse, While he was yet speak­ing, there came also another, & said, the fire of God is fallen from heaven, & hath burned up the sheep, & the servants, and consumed them, & I on­ly am escaped alone to tell thee. when there came in another, who advertised him that lightning was fallen from hea­ven, that ravaging the plain it had devoured all his sheep, with the shepherds which kept them, and that it seemed that God had not preserved him from this disaster, but that he might give him notice of it.

Scarce had he shut his mouth, While he was yet speak­ing, there came also another, & said, The Cal­deans made out 3 bands, & fell upon the Ca­mels, and have carried them a­way, yea, and slaine the ser­vants with the edge of the sword, and I only an esca­ped alone to el [...] thee. but in came a third with astonishment in his Countenance, and sadnesse in his heart, who told him, that the Caldeans divided into three bands had lead away all his camells, that in cold blood they had killed the men that kept them, and that he ha­ving placed his safety in his flight was alone remaining to come and make him a rela­tion of it.

This news was scarce spread over the Palace, While he was yet speak­ing, there came also another, & said, Thy sons and thy daugh­ters were eat­ing and drink­ing wine in their eldest brothers house. but a fourth messenger more tragi­call then the rest, came and told him, that as his children were at dinner in their eldest brothers house, where they were drowning their cares in wine, and thought of nothing but to divert themselves, And be­hold, there came a great wind from the wildernesse, & smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, & they are dead, and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. there arose from the coast of Arabia a furious winde, whose redou­bled blasts had shaken the four corners of the house, which at last yeelding to the violence of the assaults, fell to the ground, and unhappily buri­ed his children in its ruines, and that his bad fortune had reserved him to be the messen­ger of so fatall news.

At the relation of so many disasters, Then Job arose and rent his mantle, and shaved his head and fell down upon the ground and worshipped. Job seized with a mortall sorrow tore his garments, condemned his head to weare mourning, shaved his haire, then pro­strate [Page 12]upon the earth for to a­dore the hand which struck him, And said, Naked came I out of my mo­thers womb, & naked shall I return thither; the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken a­way, blessed be the name of the Lord. said with sentiments of respect: I came naked out of the wombe of my mother, and shall enter naked into the bo­some of the earth; the bounty of God gave me riches, and his justice takes them from me the losse though it be sensible is welcome to me, since it is he that ordaines it, & by what­soever misfortune he tryes my patience his name shall al­ways receive prayses from my mouth.

In all these crosse Ac­cidents capable to shake the constancy of the most vertu­ous man in the world, In all this Job sinn'd not, nor charged God foolishly. Job ut­tered not an insolent word, and his complaints were ac­companied with so much mo­deration, that he obliged hea­ven to blesse him and the earth to admire him.

CHAP. II.

THese disasters were not yet published, Again, there was a day whe the sonnes of God came to present them­selves before the Lord, and Satan came al­so among them to pre­sent himselfe before the Lord, when the Angels assembled themselves before God to give him ac­count of their commissions, or to receive new ones: The Divell puffed up with so great successe, and proud of so ma­ny crimes, fayled not to be [Page 14]there, And the Lord said unto Satan; From whence com­est thou? And Satan answer­ed the Lord, & said, from go­ing to and fro in the earth, & from walking up and down in it. whether it were his pride that brought him thi­ther, or the order of his sove­reign had obliged him to be present, when every one had taken his place, & the rankes were distributed according to merit. God willing to ex­tort truth from the mouth of Satan, asked him from whence he came, what sinnes he had committed, and by what arti­fices he had seduced men? the Devill who in his misery re­teins his vanity, answered, that being lord of the world he came from visiting his estate, And the Lord said unto Satan hast thou considered my servant Job, & that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that fear­eth God, and escheweth e­vil? and still he holdeth fast his integrity, although thou movedst me a­gainst him to destroy him without a cause and that nothing rendred him more glorious than the great number of subjects which de­pended upon his will.

God who pleaseth, him­self in humbling the pride of Devills, and to make them feel their weaknesses in their enterprises, enquired of him, if he had not seen his faithfull [Page 15]servant Job, if his constancy had not astonished him, if he had not proved that all his at­tempts were unprofitable, and that in vain he had obtai­ned power to persecute him, since after he had lost his chil­dren with his goods he had yet conserved his innocence.

The Devill to whom these prayses were as so many reproaches and punishments, And Satan answered the Lord, and said, skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life. replyed; did the patience of Job seem so admirable to him? that there needed but a com­mon vertue to support the losse of children; that that man was rich enough who was well, and that there was none who to preserve his bo­dy would not willingly aban­don his goods.

But if he would receive his counsell, and know, But put forth thine hand now, and touch his bone and his flesh, & he will curse thee to thy face what that servant whose fidelity he praysed so much, carryed in his soul, he must smite his bo­dy [Page 16]with some violent disease, take away his health, which he preferred before all his goods, & that he assured him­self that then loosing all re­spect, and adding insolence to his impiety, he would blas­pheme his name before all the world.

God who knew well that Misery served but to ele­vate the vertue of Job, And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, hee is in thine hand, but save his life. and confound the malice of the Devill, abandoned his body to him, and death excepted, gave him permission to try him by all miserable diseases which may exercise the patience of men.

This cruell executioner of Gods justice, So went Sa­tan forth from the presence of the Lord, and smote Job with sore boyls from the sole of his foot, un­to his crowne. had no sooner received power to torment Job in his person, but he des­cended upon earth, and al­though he doubted that his en­terprize would succeed to his shame, and that the pain of [Page 17]Job would be his own pu­nishment, he covered his body with an odious Vlcer, whose sharpe and pricking humour penetrated the very bone, and left no part of him without grief.

This innocent Prince, And he took him a potsherd to scrape him­selfe withall; and he fate down among the ashes. who heretofore spake not to his subjects but in his Throne, was then seated upon a dung­hill, and his hands accusto­med to bear the Scepter were imployed to wipe the matter which distilled from his sores.

His wise whom the Di­vell spared not but to imploy in his designe, Then said his wife unto him, Dost thou still retaine thine integri­ty? Curse God and die. seeing him in this pittifull condition, mock­ed at his simplicity, and with­out considering that there is nothing more glorious then to suffer, advised him to blas­pheme heaven, and to finish his miseries by a generous death.

But this great man, But he said onto her, thou speakest as one of the foolish women speak­eth; What shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive e­vill? In all­this did not Job sinne with his lips. who understood well the respect that a Subject owes to his So­vereign, even then when he is provoked, condemned the indiscretion of his wife; and by reasons, which he could not learne but from Angels, represented to her, that all that comes from the hand of God ought to be equally estee­med, that it is not more amia­ble when it imparts favours then when it lanceth forth thunder. In fine the rigour of his torments, the attempts of a devil, nor the reproaches of a wife, could never draw from him a guilty word.

When the noyse of his misfortunes was spread over the neighbouring provinces, Now when Jobs 3 friends heard of all this evil that was come up on him, they came every one from his own place: Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildod the Shuhite, & Zo­phar the Naa­mathite; for they had ap­pointed toge­ther to come to mouth with him, and to comfort him. and the Princes his Allyes knew the history of his mise­ries, three of them departed from their estates to comfort him, and arrived the same day [Page 19]as they had appointed it, to the end that the grief of his mind might let it self be over­come by all their reasons joy­ned together.

Althoug they were come with this intention, and that prepared against this misfor­tune they ought to have resen­ted it the lesse, And when they lift up their eyes a far off, and knew him not, they lift up their voice, & wept, and they rent every [...]one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. yet when they perceived him a farre off, and saw his disgrace had so chang­ed him that he was not to be known, the tears fell from their eyes, and their mouths not being able to form words pushed forth confused voyces the assured marks of a true grief: then tearing their gar­ments they cover'd their heads with ashes, and seized with horror lifted their eyes to hea­ven, from whence this misfor­tune came. So they sate down with him upon the ground, se­ven days, and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him; for they saw that his grief was very great.

Seaven dayes and sea­ven nights passed away whilst they sate with him upon the [Page 20]ground, All this while not one durst undertake to comfort him, for they saw that his grief was too violent to be sweetned, and that so great an evill was not capa­ble of remedy, and that there needed time to prepare his soule to receive their conso­lations.

CHAP. III.

After this opened Job his mouth and cursed his day. After these rude Con­flicts where Job made his pi­ety [Page 21]appeare as wel as courage, And Job spake, & said. he broke silence to asswage his grief, and made complaint to his friends to oblige them to give him comfort; he cursed the day of his birth; and grief which rendred him eloquent, furnished him with words to complain.

May the day wherein I was born perish; Let the day perish wherein I was borne, & the night in which it was said, There is a manchild con­ceived. may it be defaced out of the world, may men loose the remembrance of it, or if they reteine it, may it be but to be affraid of it; may the night wherein I was conceived be buried in oblivi­on as well as darknesse, and may it be as unhappy amongst nights, as I am miserable a­mongst men.

This unfortunate day should be obscured with dark­nesse, Let that day be darknesse, let not God regard it from above, neither let the light shine upon it. and though the Sun can­not stay his course, he should at least hide his light: God himself who makes the dayes [Page 22]and nights, Let dark­nesse and the shadow of death staine it let a cloud dshell upon it, let the blacke­nesse of the day terrifie it. and by their agree­able variety makes rest to suc­ceed travail, ought to have an­nihilated it, and joyned two nights to gether for to sup­presse a day which was to be the cause of all my evils; did not the darknesses of the night and the shadowes of death meet together to make this day as horrid, as it hath been fatall to me? and hath it not been accompanied with all the accidents which may make a day happy?

Though wishes cannot change the condition of things past, As for that night, let dark­nes seize upon it, let it not be joyned unto the days of the yeer, let it not come into the number of the months. I would that shamefull night had been great with stormes, & that silence which makes the night so agreeable had been chased away by tem­pests, and that separated from the day which preceded it, and that which followed it, it neither made a part of our months nor our years.

Would to heaven it were alwayes solitary, Lo let that night be solita­ry, let no joy­ful voice come therein. that men du­ring its course might never make assemblies nor accords, and that being fatal to all sorts of persons it might receive no praise, but be blamed by all the world.

May those themselves who prefer the nights before the dayes curse it, Let them curse it that curse the day, who are ready to raise up their mourn­ing. and those who to serve the designs of the Devill seek them and love them, because they are favou­rable to their unjust desires, be affraid of this which was the beginning of my life, and my misfortune.

May the starres which make all the beauty of the night be obscured by the thicknesse of its darknesse; Let the stars of the twilight there­of be dark, let it look for light, but have none, neither let it see the dawning of the day. may those lights, which wake when we sleep suspend their influences, and their light till it have finished its course, and if it may be may it languish e­ternally [Page 24]after the day and ne­ver see the morning rise which brings it to us.

It was too blame that it did not make the wombe which brought me forth, barren; and that letting me enter into the world it seemed to conspire with heaven to render me unhappy. Because it shut not up the doores of my mothers wombe, nor hid sorrow from mine eyes.

Why did not death pre­cede my birth? why was not the wombe of my mother m [...] Tombe? or if it were decre [...] I should be borne, should no [...] the same day which saw m [...] borne, have seen me die? a [...] though my life had been com­posed but of some houres, ha [...] it not been too long for [...] wretch? Why dy­ed I not from the womb? why did not I give up the ghost when I came out of the belly.

If the midwives had no [...] been of intelligence with my had fortune, had they not l [...] me fall when I came out o [...] the wombe of my mother [...] if heaven had not treated m [...] [Page 25]as an enemy, had not my nur­ses refused me the dugg; and had not hunger which had kill'd me done me a favour? For now should I have lien still, and been quiet, I should have slept, then had I been at rest.

I should then enjoy a pro­found rest; and as I should be insensible of all the evils which afflict me, I should keepe silence with the dead, and griefe should force no complaints from my mouth: With kings & coun­selsers of the earth, which built desolate places for themselves: I should sleepe with Kings, who knowing well that they must dye, have made them­selves proud Sepulchers; but not considering that their bo­dies can take up but seven foot of earth, have built themselves rather Solitudes then Tombes. Or with princes that had gold, who filled their houses with silver. The riches wherewith they have filled them, deserved no difference betwixt their condition and mine, because death makes all things equall; and as it takes from the poore man the sense of his miseries, it [Page 26]takes from the rich the use of his riches.

Or more happy than those Princes, Or as an hidden un­timely birth I had not bin; as infants which never saw light should I have been as an Abortive, who being an imperfect work of nature, hath no sense of our miseries, or resembled those who are con­ceived and not borne, and who have found death where they received life.

How happy is this conditi­on, There the wicked cease from troubling: and there the wea­ry be at rest. and how different from that wherein we now live; for those turbulent spirits which filled all with tumult, and troubled the peace of the world with their pernicious Artifices, have changed their humour, and breathe nothing but repose. And those valli­ant Warriers, who promised themselves the conquest of the Universe, have forgotten their glorious designes; and as if they were wearied with their past travailés, abandon them­selves [Page 27]to the shadow of death.

There the people which groaned under Oppression, There the prisoners rest together, they heare not the voyce of the oppressour. are happily delivered from Tyranny; and these poore men, which trembled as oft as they heard the name of Subsidies, are cured of all their feares.

The same earth covers the great and small; The small and great are there, and the servant is free from his ma­ster. and that common mother, which shuts up her children in her bo­some, teaches them, that they are of the same condition; and those deceitfull qualities which put a difference be­twixt men, endure no longer than life; There by a strange wonder the slave no more feares his Master, and death which hath taken from him his life, hath given him his li­berty.

O God, Where­fore is light given to him that is in mi­sery, and life unto the bitter in soule? since death is so sweet to the miserable, why doe you condemne them to [Page 28]live? what pleasure doe you take to combate their desires, and to prolong their mise­ries? Which long for death, but it cometh not, & dig for it more than for hid trea­sures?

For you know that they sigh incessantly after death, and that a covetous man who discovers a treasure hath no [...] so much contentment, Which rejoyce ex­ceedingly, and are glad when they can finde the grave? as a mi­serable man who findes a Grave.

Why doe you force th [...] to live, especially when th [...] want light to lead them, Why is light given to a man whose way is hid, and whom God hath hedged in? and that it seemes you enviro [...] them with darknesse for fear they should amend, and [...] turne to the good way whi [...] they have left?

Wonder not if I take th [...] part of the miserable, For my sighing com­meth before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like the water. since am one of their number; [...] repasts are intetrupted wi [...] my sighes, and I drink no wa­ter but what is mingled [...] my teares: the Torrents which ravage the fields, For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of, is come unto me. and the [...] ­vers [Page 29]which over-flow make not a noise like my cryes: and certainely, I ought to be pardoned these excesses, for the evill I apprehended is come upon me, and feare hath not left me but to abandon me to griefe. I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet: yet trouble came.

That which vexeth me the most is, that my conscience cannot reproach me with any crime, and that I am igno­rant for what sin heaven pu­nisheth me; for I have dissem­bled the injuries which I have received, and which is diffi­cult enough for miserable men, I have been silent in my sufferings, and amidst the tu­mult of my enemies, I have conserved the tranquility of my soule. Notwithstanding God, from whom I expected my reward, persecutes me, and he who ought to protect me, is on my enemies side.

CHAP. IV.

Then Eli­phaz the Te­manite answe­red and said, AFter Job had ex­pressed his griefes with so much re­sentment, If we assay to commune with thee, wilt thou be grie­ved? but who can with hold himself from speaking? Eliphaz the most ancient of his friends judging that his complaints offended the Divine Justice, spoke in its defence, and be­gan his discourse in this manner I know not if in the griefe which afflicts you, [Page 31]you are capable of hearing us; and whether our reasons will not exasperate your evils, instead of sweetning them. But who can hinder a discourse from coming forth, which is already conceived? who would conceale from his friend those sentiments which are profita­ble to his soule, and which coming from a good intenti­on, ought in reason to pro­duce a good effect?

Behold, thou hast in­structed ma­ny, and thou hast strengthe­ned the weak­hands. And for to propose to you no other examples than your owne, remember that when heaven blest your labours, and favoured your designes, you gave instructions to all the world, and there was not a man who had more addresse than you, in comforting the afflicted, and raising up the courage of them in whom grief had beaten it down.

Your discourses animated the feeble, Thy words have upholden him that was falling, & thou hast strength­ened the see­ble knees. if the assault of [Page 32]temptations did shake them, you assured them by your rea­sons; and if the apprehension of evils to come astonished them, you prepared them for them so well, that they were never lesse touched with them than when they saw them ar­rived.

But now it is come up­on thee, and thou faintest, it toucheth thee, and thou art troubled Notwithstanding when the tempest fell upon your selfe, and that the evils of which you had cured others, assault­ed you, your prudence left you in your need, and the af­fliction which hath put your soul in disorder, hath made you lose your courage.

Is not this thy fear, thy confidence, the uprightnes of thy wayes, and [...]hy hope? Where is that feare and that constancy which tendred you admirable, and whose just temperature made you that you were neither cowardly in fight, nor insolent in victory? where is that patience gone which seemed to be proofe a­gainst all evils, and which [Page 33]could finde none but what were easie to conquer? what is become of that integrity which accompanied all your actions; and which in a cor­rupt age made you have the name of Just?

Remem­ber, I pray thee, who ever petished be­ing innocent? or where were the righteous cut off? But because you take a va­nity in the vertues which you have lost, I pray you remem­ber that God never abandon­ed the innocent; that he hath alwayes taken the part of the just, and never suffered them to perish.

Indeed we have seene that those men, Even as I have seen, they that plow ini­quiry, and sow wickednesse, reap the same. who make them selves illustrious but by their crimes, who doe evill with pleasure, to whom others mi­series are more sweet than a plentifull harvest is agreeable to the Husbandman, By the blast of God they perish, and by the breath of his nostrils are they consumed. have not been able to avoid his justice; and that as those great Trees which are planted upon the Mountaines, they have been [Page 34]made the sport of the windes and tempests.

Hath not experience taught you, The roa­ring of the li­on, and the voyce of the fierce lion, and the teeth of the young li­ons are bro­ken. that men who raigned like Lions, that their chil­dren who equalled them in cruelty, that their wives who surpassed them in insolence, have ended their lives tragi­cally, and that heaven hath made seene in their persons, that it never leaves sinners without chastisement?

Know you not that those great ones, The old lion perisheth for lack of prey, and the stont lions whelpes are scattered a­broad. who under the face of men carry the hearts of Tygers, and those who not being of the same birth, are notwithstanding of the same humour, receive the punish­ments which their sinnes de­serve; and that as there are no innocent ones abandoned, there are no culpable ones un­punished?

But because you doubt of these truths, Now a thing was se­cretly brought to me, and mine eare re­ceived a little thereof. and your afflicti­ons [Page 35]themselvs cannot per­swade you that you are guilty, I shall tell you a secret which was revealed to me, and trust you with some words, which though they dropt softly into my eare, are imprinted strong­ly in my heart.

Imagine then that during the horrours of the night, In thoughts from the vi­sions of the night, when deep sleep fal­leth on men. when sleepe sliding into the eyes of men, makes it self ma­ster of all their sences, and leaves no freedome to the minde but to treat with God, and receive his inspirations.

A strange feare, Feare came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bence to shake. the cause of which was hidden from me, seized upon my soule, and as strong agitations of the minde make powerfull impressions upon the body, there was not a part of me but was moved at it; the bones themselves which steme to be the foundations of this living Edifice, felt asto­nishment.

A furious winde which a­rose in my Chamber, Then a spirit passed before my face, the haire of my flesh stood up. redoubled my feare, and my haire being sensible of this acci­dent stood an end and taught me, that of all feares those which surprise us doe most astonish us.

This tempest calmed by the presence of a man, It stood still, but I could not dis­cerne the form thereof: an i­mage was be­fore mine eyes, there was si­lence, and I heard a voice, saying, whose face was vnknowne to me, and whose features notwith­standing remaine so livelily imprinted in my imagination, that me thinkes I have his portraiture yet before my eyes. He opened his mouch, and spake to me in a voyce, whose sweetnes equalled that of the westerne wendes.

May men be found who pretend to justifie themselves before God, Shall mortall man be more just then God? shall a man be more pure then his Maker? and must not that creature have lost his judgement, who will contest with his Creator, and dispute with him his innocence?

Those noble spirits dis-in­gaged from the body, Behold he putteth no trust in his ser­vants, and his angels he thar­ged with folly: those quick intelligences, which have no commerce with flesh and blood, and for increase of their happinesse, have the glory to be his Domestiques, could not subsist in nature, nor persevere in grace, if they were not ayded by his boun­ty: So all they who have de­spised him, are become guilty, and the purity of their being hath not hindred God from finding in their person disor­ders to reforme, and crimes to punish.

If it be true that these no­ble creatures cannot justifie themselves before him, How much lesse on them that dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, which are crushed before the moth? how much lesse ought men to hope it, who are condemned to carry bodies, which may well be called houses of earth, since the habitation is so con­tagious, and the Vestments of their soules, fince they shall [Page 38]be consumed with wormes.

Indeed with whatsoever vaine hope the proud flatter themselves, They are destroyed from morning to evening: they perish for ever without any regarding it. and whatsoever Artifice they use to cloak their miserable conditions, they know that their life is so short, that the same day may see the beginning and the end of it; but because they thinke not upon these truths, and to give themselves liberty to sin, they perswade themselves that they are immortall, God will pu­nish them eternally.

And if their children which survive them be not exe [...]pt from their crimes, Doth not their excellen­cy which is in them go away? they dye, even without wis­dom. they shall not be exempt from their pu­nishments; and death which will come and surprize them, shall be a just chastilement of their foolish rashnesse.

CHAP. V.

IF truth be suspe­cted by you, Call now, if there be any that will an­swer thee, and to which of the Saints wilt thou turne? for being pronounced by the mouth of a mortall man; and if revelati­ons finde no credit in your minde, For wrath killeth the­foolish man, & envie slayeth the silly one. conferre with God himselfe, and see if by the assi­duity of your prayers you can oblige him to answer you; or if you have not credit e­nough to hope this grace from [Page 40]his bounty, addresse your selfe to the Angels or to the Saints, and demand by their favour what you cannot obtaine by your owne merit: Or if you will beleeve me, give me leave to tell you that your com­plaints are unjust, and that the motions of your anger which transport you, are misbecoming a wise man: There are none but fooles who suffer themselves to be conquered by this passion, as there are none but weake men, and cowards, which suffer themselves to be gnawed by envy, and who make them­selves misfortunes of the feli­city of others.

The prosperity of the wic­ked ought not to trouble you in your affliction, I have seen the foolish ta­king root: but suddenly I cursed his ha­bitation. for it is not of continuance; and for my part, I have seene none whose fortune howsoever it seemed established, has been able to [Page 41]subsist long; whatever glit­tering it hath had, I have al­waies mocked at it, and pre­saged its end, whilest others admired its greatnesse. His chil­dren are farre from safety, and they are crushed in the gate, neither is there any to deliver them;

His children survive him not often, they accompany him in his punishment, as they have followed him in his sin; God permits justice to take cognizance of their acti­ons, Whose harvest the hungry eateth up, and taketh it even out of the thornes, & the robber swalloweth up their substance and to finde Advocates to accuse them, and there are none found for to defend them; And as if all their goods were abandoned to pil­lage, the hungry take away their coyne, the Souldiers car­ry away their moveables, and the covetous seize upon their riches which they had unjust­ly acquired. Although affliction com­meth out forth of the dust, neither doth trouble spring out of the ground:

But besides this considera­tion, that which ought to comfort, you, is, that nothing befals man, but by the permis­sion of God: For it is an [Page 42]abuse to beleeve that the affli­ctions which oppresse us, draw their being from the earth; God ordains them in heaven, and men, which we beleeve the Authors of them, are but the instruments of his Justice.

If this reason, Yet man is borne unto trouble, as the sparks flie up­ward. for being too elevated, should not satisfie your minde, nature ought to comfort you, who teaches you that flying is not more natu­rall to the birds, than travaile is to man; who hath no more mortall enemy than repose; wherefore whatsoever disaster befals me, I should alwayes blesse God, and judging fa­vourably of his intentions, beleeve that he afflicted me to try me; and that punishments being but the seeds of glory, I might lawfully hope for a rich harvest.

Or considering well his greatnesse, I would seek unto God, and unto God would I com­mit my cause: I should submit my selfe humbly to his Ordinan­ces, [Page 43]for it is he who doth all that is great in the Universe; It is he who produceth all those effects, Which doth great things and unsearchable; marves [...]ous things with­out number. of which we can­not discover the causes; It is he who workes all those wonders which ravish us; and as his power is not bounded, the number of his miracles al­so is not limited.

'Tis he who raiseth up the vapours, Who giveth raine upon the earth and sendeth waters upon the fields: who thickeneth them into clouds, and maketh them distill in raines for to render the earth fertile; 'Tis he him­selfe who waters it, as well by those waters which fall from heaven, as by those which he hath hidden in its entrailes; And whose secret raines produce in a thousand places sources and rivers.

But that which ought prin­cipally to invite you to blesse him, is, To set up on high those that be low; that those which mourn may be exal­ted to safety. that he takes plea­sure to elevate the humble, and to raise slaves upon the [Page 44]throne of their Masters; He disap­pointeth the devises of the crafty, so that their hands cannot perform their enterprise that he changeth thornes into flo­wers; that he comforteth the afflicted, and banisheth sad­nesse from their hearts, to make joy grow there? Also it is he who makes the designes of the wicked fustrate, who hinders the effects of their pernicious counsels, and who to confound their foolish wis­dome suffers not their hands to execute what their mindes had projected. He taketh the wise in their own craf­tinesse and the counsell of the froward is carried head­long.

But we must confesse, that his providence never appeares more than when he sur­prizeth the wise of the age in their craft, and giving their designes a contrary successe to what they promised them­selves, they receive confusion where they hoped for glory, and acknowledge by experi­ence that there is no Maxime of State so certaine, which may not be overturned by his divine wisdom.

Is it not pleasant to observe their blindnesse in the most cleare affaires, They meet with darknesse in the day time, and grope in the noone day as in the night. to see them trip at mid-day, and to make halts which are not pardona­ble but in those that walks by night?

Also it often comes to passe that when they have a designe to ruine a miserable man, But he saved the poor from the sword, from their mouth, and from the hand of the mighty. God protects him by his power; and as if it were not enough to have preserved his body from their violence, he de­fends his reputation from their calumny, and by the same miracle delivers him from their hands and their tongues. So the poor hath hope, and in­iquity stoppeth her mouth.

After so many visible marks of his bounty, the afflicted have cause to be satisfied, their misery it selfe ought to enter­taine their hope, and the wic­ked seeing that their calum­ny is serviceable to the inno­cent, are forced to shut their [Page 46]mouthes and to keep silence. Behold, happy is the man whom God correct­eth: therefore despise not thou the cha­stening of the Almighty:

Since God then takes the miserable into his protection, are not you bound to believe that they are happy, and that without being unreasonable, they cannot complaine of an evill, which ought to be as glorious to them, as it is pro­fitable?

He afflicts them but he com­forts them; For he maketh sore, and bindeth up: he wound­eth, and his hands make whole. he causeth their evils, but he findes them reme­dies; he hurts them, but he heales them; and his hands are so delicate in touching their wounds, that there is no one but would willingly be hurt to have the pleasure of being so gently cured.

Be assured then if you suf­fer patiently the evils which oppresse you, He shall deliver thee in fix troubles: yea, in seven toere shall no evill touch thee. God who aban­doneth not his, will deliver you one day, and after this season there will come ano­ther, where evils, as if they [Page 47]were struck with respect, shall not dare to approach you.

When famine shall render the earth barren, In famine he shall re­deeme thee from death: and in warre, from the pow­er of the sword and the ob­stinate labour of the husband­man cannot overcome its in­gratitude, God shall defend you from death, and when in day of battell the enemies Souldiers shall assault you on all sides, he shall preserve you from their fury.

Detractors shall spare your reputation; Thou shalt be hid from the scourge of the tongue: neither shalt thon be afraid of destruction when it co­meth. in the unbridled license which they take to blot the innocent, you shall be covered from their calum­nyes, and in the publike ca­lamity when all the world is in alarm, you shall be with­out hurt, and without feare.

Whether your enemies be­siege your places, At de­strnction and famine thou shalt laugh: neither shalt thou be afraid of the beasts of the enrth. or make in­cursions upon your Fronti­ers, you shall mock at their successelesse attempts, and your Troopes shall chase them [Page 48]away without danger. The respect to your person shall extend even to the Beasts, and when famine shall force them from their dens, the encoun­tring them, which is so dange­rous, shall not be fatall to you.

Certainely they may well reverence you, For thou shalt be in league with the stones of the field: and the beasts of the field shall bee at peace with thee. since the stones which are insensible shall re­move themselves with respect out of your way, or by ano­ther miracle they shall soften under your feet: But so good an Office shall not remaine without recompence; for those which marke your inheri­tance, and serve it for bounds, shall be respected of all the world, and as if they were sacred, your neighbours shall not dare to touch them.

You shall not be of the number of those who are not unhappy; And thou shalt know that thy ta­bernacle shall be in peace, and thou shalt visit thy habi­tation, and shalt not sinne but because they are ignorant of their happi­nesse, [Page 49]yours shall be knowne to you, you shall enjoy a pro­found peace in your house; Thou shalt know al­so that thy feed shall be great, & thine off-spring as the grasse of the earth. and as riches shall not puffe up your heart with vanity, you shall taste the pleasure of them without offence.

Experience which shall ve­rifie my predictions, shall teach you that it is God who gives heyres to Fathers, Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corne cometh in in his sea­son. for yours shall bee as remarkable for their number as their merit, and your house shall bee as fruitfull in children, as the meadowes in flowers, and the fields in sheaves. Poverty, which old age so much fears, shall not afflict the last yeares of your life; you shall dye with abundance, as you have lived with it; and as they carry corne into the Barne when it is ripe, they shall car­ry you to the grave, when you are weary of living.

Moreover doubt not of the Lo this, we have sear­ched it, so it is, hear it, and know thou it for thy good. [Page 50]event of these things, they shal come to passe as I have fore­told them; and if you think of them sometimes, they will sweeten your displeasures, and of a happinesse which is to come, you shall make a pre­sent felicity.

CHAP. VI.

JOB observing by his friends dis­course, But Job answered and said. that his Reasons had made no im­pression in his minde; and that he neither knew the de­signe of God in his afflictions, nor his owne in his com­plaints, replyed to him in these tearms:

I would the sins which I have committed, Oh that my griefe were through­ly weighed, and my cala­mity laid in the balance to­gether! and which have provoked the anger of God against me, were put in balance with the paines which I suffer.

I am assured that these would weigh more than all the sand of the sea, For now it would be heavier than the sand of the sea, there­fore my words are swallowed up. and that there is no constancy but would be overwhelmed under so weighty a burden: where­fore, having nothing but dis­pleasures in my heart, it is no wonder if I have nothing but complaints in my mouth.

It seemes God will dis­charge upon my body all the arrowes of his fury, For the arrows of the Almighty are within mee, the poison whereof drin­keth up my spirit: the ter­rours of God doe set them­selves in aray against me. he drawes not a shot but hurts me; and as if he would joyn skill with his force, his invenomed shafts sprinkle in my veines a mortall poison, which drinkes my blood, and dryes up all my strength: and as if this kinde of punishment [Page 53]were not cruell enough he addes feare to my griefe, and serves himselfe both with pre­sent and future evils to render me unhappy.

It is not hard for you in the happinesse which you in­joy to make a truce with com­plaints, but this patience, Doth the wilde asse bray when he hath grasse? or low­eth the ox o­ver his fodder? from which you thinke to draw a reputation, is common with the beasts as well wilde as tame, for whilest either of them findes grasse, they ne­ver importune Heaven with their cryes.

But he may complaine with reason, Can that which is un­savoury be ea­ten without salt? or is there any taste in the white of an egge? who to appease the hunger, which devoures his entrailes is constrained to eat ashes and to swallow poison.

For my part though I am not yet reduced to this mise­ry, Heaven is my witnesse, The things that my soule refusth to touch, are as my sorrowfull meat. Heaven is my witnesse, that those meates which here­tofore made me affraid, are now my delight, and that [Page 54]without having liberty of choosing; Necessity inforces me to eat indifferently of all that I can finde.

Shall my vowes never be heard? O that I might have my request! & that God would grant me the thing that I long for! shall I finde no favour with God for to obtaine of his bounty what my heart de­sires, and what my mouth de­mands of him?

My prayers are neither in­just for insolent, Even that it would please God to de­stroy me, that he would let loose his hand [...] n [...] cut me off. for I con­jure him onely to finish what he hath so well begun, to end by a shamefull death the mi­serable life which I lead, and to withdraw his hand which supports me but to make me languish, to the end that I may returne into nothing.

He would much oblige me if he did not spare me, Then should I yet have comfort, yea I would harden my self in sorrow; let him not spare, for I have not concealed the words of the holy one. and I should comfort my selfe, if by a surcharge of sorrow he would suddenly take from me my life. That care which he takes to preserve it for me, [Page 55]is the most cruell effect of his anger: that which you call favour ought to be called ri­gour, and death is so much the object of my desires, that you need not feare my appea­ling from it; when he who is most excellently holy shall condemne me to it: neither have I vigour enough to su­stain the assault of his power. The match is unequall, What is my strength, that I should hope? & what is mine end, that I should sprolong my [...]ife? where man enters into the lists with God, and for to have so much patience as you desire from me, it were necessary to be assured that my death ap­proached and that heaven ad­vanced forwards that happy Terme, when all my miseries should end.

Nature hath done no mi­racles in my person. Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my flesh of brasse? My bo­dy hath its weaknesses as well as others, and being neither composed of Marble nor of Brasse, you must not wonder [Page 56]if it yeeld to the assault of sorrow.

In this deplorable condi­tion I see nothing which may charme my displeasures, Is not my help in me? and is wisdom driven quite from me? my languishing spirit hath no more that vigour, which made it triumph over all disasters, and my faithlesse friends have no more that tendernesse which made them sensible of all my miseries;

Yet they had best take heed, To him that is af­flicted pitty shold be shew­ed from his friend; but he forsaketh the feare of the Almighty. it is no lesse their owne interest than mine, for he, who assists not his friend, feares not his God, and who wants pitty for the one, will want reverence for the other.

Lastly they which boasted that they loved me as their brother, My bre­thren have dealt deceit­fully as a brook, and as the streame of brooks they passe away: have basely left me assoon as they understood of my misfortunes, and if at any time they meet me they passe away more swiftly than the torrents in the valleys, Which areblackish by reason of the yee, & where­in the snow is hid: I [Page 57]know they thinke that my evill is contagious and that the feare of catching it makes them retire from me, but I know also, that humane pru­dence is blinde, and that it ingages it selfe upon great hazards to avoid little dan­gers, like those, who to keep themselves from the dew, unwisely expose themselves to the snow.

They shall undergoe the Punishment of so base a trea­chery, What time they wax warm, they va­nish: when it is hot, they are consumed our of their place. and though it seeme that to ruine them whole yeares be not long enough they shall perish in a moment; and soft wax shall longer re­sist the fire, than these trea­cherous men shall resist the anger of God.

Their proceeding deserves well this chastisement, The path, of their way are tu [...]ned a­side; they go to nothing, & perish, for they have no fincerity in their actions, whatsoever they pro­mise you, their words never [Page 58]answer their thoughts: they shift like beasts, who make faults for the Huntsmen, but if they abuse men by their turnings, they more dange­rously deceive themselves, be­cause these devious wayes will lead them to death.

And least you should thinke I accuse them without cause, The troups of Te­ma looked, the companies of Sheba wai­ted for them. or complaine without reason, observe the neighbouring provinces, where I thought I had as many friends as there are noble persons, and have patience to consider what they have done to comfort me.

Indeed they came to see me and I beleeve that affection brought them rather than curiosity: They were confoun­ded because they had ho­ped; they came thither, and were ashamed. but when they saw the deplorable condition of my fortune they could not comprehend how amongst so many misfortunes there should remaine any hope, and at the same time their heart [Page 59]was seized with pitty, and their countenance covered with shame.

You have taken the paines too to come hither, For now ye are no­thing; ye see my casting down, and are afraid. and the reputation which my disaster gives me, hath begotten a defire in you of speaking with me; but when your eyes had made you see that, which your eares had informed you, your compassion turned into horrour, and you had more feare of catching my evill, than desire of curing it.

And it must needs be this consideration, Did I say, Bring un­to me? or give a reward for me of your substance. that hath se­perated you from me, and not my importunity; for you know that my tongue never betrayed my courage, and that necessity cannot compell me to aske any of your estate, though I am not ignorant that amongst true friends all things are common.

Ordeli­ver me from the enemies hand? or re­deem me from the hand of the mighty. Did I ever intreat you to [Page 60]joyne your forces with mine to deliver me from the fury of my enemies? and when the great ones of the age, better knowne by their injustice, than their birth, had cruelly assaulted me, doe not you re­member, that without im­ploring your succours I re­solved to conquer them by my patience?

But least you should beleeve that my misery makes me in­solent, Teachme, & I will hold my tongue: and cause me tosunderstand wherein I have erred. teach me, I am ready to heare: and if you judge that in my discourses I am mistaken either through pride, or ignorance, I will have you for my masters, and become your schollar.

Observe onely that nothing ought to be further from the Spirit of a master than lyes, How for­rible are right words! but what doth your arguing reprove? and yet nothing hath more offended you in my discourses than their truth, and to ac­cuse my innocence you have [Page 61]fought against reason.

Suffer me likewise to tell you that you prepare studyed dicourses, Doe ye imagine to re­prove words, and the spee­ches of one that is despe­rate, which are as winde? for to blot the most holy actions, and that you use not your eloquence but to acquire esteeme.

If a childe loosing his Fa­ther hath lost all his support with him, Yea, ye overwhelm the fatherlesse, & you dig [...] a pit for your friend. he hath no more cruell enemies than you: and as your interests are the mo­tives of all your actions, you spare not your very friends, you employ all your artifices to ruine them, and their losse is welcome to you, provided it be profitable.

Although you have all these bad qualities, Now therefore be content, look upon me, for it is evident unto you if I lye. yet I re­fuse not the combat, end the dispute, which you have be­gun, examine my disocourses and condemne them, if you finde them lyes

I aske but one favour of you, Returne I pray you, let it not be ini­quity; yea, re­turne againe: my righteous­nesse is in it. when you would answer [Page 62]me, use not pricking tearmes, injuries make not reasons va­lid, and when you would pronounce my sentence, con­sult your conscience, and take heed least your mouth utter any thing which is be­lyed by your heart.

And on my part I promise you that impiety shall be ba­nished from my discourse, Is there iniquity in my tongue? can­not my taste discern per­versse things? that the words which compose it shalbe as pure as mythoughts, and that indiscretion shall make me utter nothing which may hurt your eares.

CHAP. VII.

T That which hath crossed you most in my complaints is the passion which I have for death: Is there not an appointed time to man upon earth? are not his dayes also like the dayes of an hiteling? but certainly you would finde it reasonable if you would remember, that the life of man is a warre, which hath neither truce nor [Page 64]peace, and that his conditi­on is no better than those poore mercenaries whose tra­vells have no repose.

Also as slaves covered with sweat and dust wish nothing more passionately than the shade for to refresh them, As a ser­vant earnest­ly defireth the shadow, and as an hireling looketh for the reward of his workes: and rest to repayre them, and as workemen desire nothing so ardently, as the end of their worke and the recompence of their travaile:

So I have wished nothing more than the end of this un­happy life, So am I made to posses moneths of va­nity, & weari­some nights are appointed to me. whose dayes are and so fruitfull in displea­sures, and I number the te­dious nights which have not so many moments in them as they give me troubles.

If I lye downe, When I lye downe, I say, When shall I arise, and the night be gone? and I am full of tos­sings to and fro unto the dauning of the day. I wish that the day starre were up that I might rise with it, and when it hath appeared upon our Horizon, its light, which dis­sipates [Page 65]the vexations of others augments mine, and as if night were to be the remedy of them, I expect it with im­patience; and when it is come I finde that it is unprofi­table to my paine.

If my desires seeme extra­vagant, My flesh is clothed with worms & clods of dust, my skin is bro­ken, and be­come loath­some. you must accuse the cruelty of the evills which I suffer, for my body is covered with a thousand Ulcers; and my skin glued, shrivil'd upon my bones, and blacked with the Sun, and the dust makes those who see me take me ra­ther for an apparition, than a man.

Why then should I love my life, My dayes are swifter than a weavers shuttle, & are spent without hope. since besides the evils. which make it odious, it's fragility makes it contempti­ble? for a thread is not so easily broken as the web of our dayes and when it is once broken no hand is skilfull enough to piece it.

Remember Lord, O remem­ber that my life is winde: mine eye shall no more see good. when you arm so many creatures to pu­nish me, that my life is like the winde which passeth away and never returneth, for when I once enter into ihe grave you shall never bring me againe to make me taste the delights of life.

The world shall see mee no more, The eye of him that hath seene me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me and I am and death, which shall seperate me from the company of men, shall deface me out of their memory, and when your eyes which see all things shall reckon the number of your creatures, they shall finde me here no more neither to re­ompence me, nor punish me.

As a cloud appeares noe more when the sun which for­med it hath dissipated it, As the cloud is con­sumed, and va­nisheth away, so he that go­eth downe to the grave shall come up no more. so are men seene no more when death hath destroyed them, and they appeare no more up­on the earth, when they are once gone into the grave.

They come no more into their families to governe them, He shall returne no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more. nor into their states to command them: and the con­dition of the living is so dif­ferent from that of the dead, that if they should returne hi­ther, their domestiques would not know them, and they themselves, that made much of them, would not be able to endure them.

Since the condition of the dead hath its misfortunes as well as that of the living, Therefore I will not refraine my mouth, I will speake in the anguish of my spirit, I will complaine in the bitternesse of my soule. I will permit my mouth to speak, and my heart to sigh, I will vent my miseries in my complaints and giving liber­ty to my griefe, I am resol­ved to speak to God, whatever it shall suggest.

Am I a sea, or a whale that thou set­test a watch o­ver me? Doth my pride equall the seas that you should keepe me in prison, as you doe it in captivity? and am I as furious as those monsters which you [Page 68]shut up in the Abysse, that you treat me with the like Rigor?

This restraint gives me a thousand paines a day, When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint. and if I say, when the night is come, my Bed shall be my comfort; I shall finde ease in relating it my displeasures, and sleepe shall give some in­termission to my Torments;

All these hopes are false, Then thou skarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visi­ons. for you make Apparitions passe before my eyes which frighten me, and you com­mand dreames to put on hid­deous formes to trouble me during my repose.

Wherefore my soule yeeld­ing to the assault of sorrow, So that my soule cho­seth strang­ling, & death rather than my life. wisheth nothing but a gib­bit, and death which is the Terrour of the guilty is the desire and hope of the most unhappy and most innocent of all men.

And certainly I may well be pardoned if I have the sen­timents I loath it, I would not live alway: let me alone, for my dayes are vanity: [Page 69]of one that is despe­rate, for in the force of my evils, and in the weaknesse of my body, it is necessary that I die: if notwithstanding my conjectures are not true, and after so many sorrowes I must yet live, treat me more gnetly Lord, and search no other motive of your mercy than the shortnesse of my dayes, and the misery of my life.

What is man that you should undertake his ruine with so much indignation, What is man, that thou shouldest mag­nifie him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart up­on him? you make him insolent in de­claring your self his enemy, whatsoever misfortune befalls him in this combat he will have the advantage & esteeme himself too glorious in having been the object of your anger.

As if it were very difficult to conquer him, And that thou shouldest visite him e­very morning, and try him every mo­ment? you imploy at once sweetnesse & severity, for one while you flatter him as a childe, and presently after [Page 70]you threaten him as a slave.

How long will yee deferr the pardon which an inno­cent man askes of you? How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallowed down my spit­tle. and when will the houre come that, my tongue being no lon­ger fastned to my palate, I may forme words at liberty?

O divine protector of men I will betray my innocence, I have sinned, what shall I do un­to thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a marke against thee, so that I am a burden to my selfe? and confesse that I have sin­ned; but what shall I do to appease you, since all my cares have been hitherto un­profitable, and notwithstand­ing all I can do, I can neither please you, nor endure my self, nor be well with my self being ill with you.

Rather of a guilty man make an innocent, And why doest thou not pardon my transgression, and take away mine iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust, and thou shalt seeke me in the mor­ning, but I shall not be. deface my fin by your grace, and de­ferre no longer to accord me this favour: for considering the evils that I feele, the grave will presently be my dwel­ling: and if you retard your [Page 71]favours till the morning, I shall be no longer capiable to receive them.

CHAP. VIII.

WHen Job had fini­shed this discourse, Then an­swered Bildad the Shuhite, and said. which he had not begun but to de­fend his innocence, Bildad who held the second ranke amongst his friends spake, and following the example [Page 72]of Eliphaz, said to him with some heat.

How long will you talke indiscreetly? How long wilt thouspeak these things? and how long shal the words of thy mouth be like a strong winde? how long will ye wander in these extrava­gant discourses? and accuse Heaven of injustice and your friends of infidelity?

Do you thinke that God who is the supream justice pronounceth unjust decrees; Doth God pervert judge­ment? or doth the Almighty pervert ju­stice? and that when he useth his power to punish men, he pro­portions not the punishments to their sins?

Though your children have offended him, If thy chil­dren have sin­ned against him, and he have cast them away for their transgression: and that the sudden and unthought of death which they have suf­fered be the just punishment of their crimes,

You may profit by their misfortune, If thou wouldest seek unto God be­times, & make thy supplica­tion to the Al­mighty: and be made wise at their expence. In a word, if in your misery you implore the succors of hea­ven, and if in the morning [Page 73]when the season is calme, and your minde cleare, you pre­sent it your prayers: If thou wert pure and up right, surely now he would awake for thee, and make the habitation of thy righteous­nesse prospe­rous.

If you are sincere in your intentions and modest in your words,

God who at present seems to be asleepe, will awake for to thinke upon you, and after he hath restored peace to your soule he will restore its former luster to your house, Though thy beginning was small, yet thy latter end should greatly increase. he will recompence your los­ses with interest, and the fe­licity which he prepares for you shall be greater than that, whose losse you regrett.

But since, For en­quire, I pray thee, of the former age, and prepare thy selfe to the search of their fathers. this being no good security, my promises may be suspected of you, con­sult the times of our fathers read the histories of our Granfathers, and consider what they have written in favour of the truth which I declare,

For we our selves are too For we are but of ye­sterday, and know nothing, because our dayes upon earth are a shadow. [Page 74]young to be beleeved, our life being not very long, our experience cannot be great, and we may be ignorant of many things, since we know not that our dayes disperse themselves like a shadow, which vanisheth at the light of the Sun.

Those sage old men who have had the Angells for their masters shall resolve you in your doubts, Shall not they teach thee, and tell thee, and utter words out of their heart? and their dis­courses more eloquent than mine shall perswade you that the happinesse of the wicked cannot long endure, and that the misery of the just must presently end.

But if nature herself be the mistresse of men and if we may draw instructions from all the cre [...]tures, Can the rush grow up without mire? can the flag grow without water? do not you see that these fayre flow­ers which the rushes of the Marshes beare cannot live without humidity, Whilest it is yet in his greennesse, and not cur down, it withereth before any o­ther h [...]th. and that [Page 75]to remove them from the wa­ter is to condemne them to death, that when they do but blosome; before the hand of men hath defiled their beauty, if only humidity be wanting, there is no herbe which dyes so soone, and the same day which saw them borne sees them dye.

It is just so with the prospe­rity of the wicked; So are the paths of all that forget God, & the hy­pocrites hope shall perish. for though all things succeed [...]ccording to their desices, if the grace of God be wanting, it is ne­cessary that they perish; Whose hope shall be cut off, and whose trust shall be a spi­der [...] web. and when to deceive m [...] they shall seeme pious in appea­rance, God who seeth the bottome of the heart, shall nor saile to punish them.

The designe which they have to cover their sins under the cloke of piety, shall not succeede; and the vaine hopes wherewith they flatter them­selves, shall resemble the spi­ders [Page 76]webs, which have never so much artifice, but they have as much weaknesse.

They shall relye upon the greatnesse of their house, He shall lean upon his house, but it shal not stand: he shall hold it fast, but it shall not en­dure. but it shall fall like them; They shall indeavour to support it by their Alliances, but what­soever cunning they use, they shall have the displeasure of seeing it overthrowne, but shall not have the power to raise it up.

Finally, to keepe to the tearmes of our first compari­son, we must confesse that the fortune of the wicked is like to the beauty of the reeds, for to see them in the mor­ning, in those moyst places where they have their birth, you would judge that the spring which sees all the flow­ers borne and dye, would ne­ver see them have an end.

Notwithstanding when the sun is in his Meridian, He is greene before the sun, & his branch shoot­eth forth in his garden. and [Page 77]beats perpendicularly upon their heads, he doth not only deface all their beauty, but dryes up their roots, His roots are wrapped a­bout the heap, and seeth the place of stones and de­priving them of that moysture which nourished them, he makes them more arrid than the rocks. Finally, he so con­sumes them by his heat, that there remains no rest of them, and if the earth which bore them could speake, it would say that it had lost the remem­brance of them.

'Tis one of the recreations of this beautifull starre to ru­ine his workes for to produce new ones, If he de­stroy him from his place, then it shall deny him, saying I have not seen thee. and to keep up the beauty of the world by the variety of his effects: Behold, this is the joy of his way, and out of the earth shall o­thers grow. And 'tis one of the employments of divine Justice to chastise the wicked, and to ruine their fortune, and to stifle their glo­ry in the birth.

Divine bounty, Behold, God will not cast away a perfect man, neither will he help the evill doers: its deare companion, treats not the [Page 78]simple so, for it takes care of preserving them, it imbraceth their interests, and refusing its assistance to the wicked, it ta­citely consents to their ruine.

This generall rule shall have no exception for you, Till he fill thy mouth with laughing, and thy lips with rejoyce­ing. and if you are faithfull to God, your bad fortune shall change into a better; joy shall appeare againe upon your countenance, and laughter recovering its place upon your lips, shall banish sadnesse and griefe.

And as the punishment of the wicked is a part of the happinesse of the just, They that hate thee shall be cloth­ed with shame, and the dwel­ling place of the wicked shall come to nought. they who have made warre against you, shall be rigorously puni­shed, and you shall have the contentment of seeing shame upon their faces, and misery in their houses.

CHAP. IX.

JOB, Then Job answered, and said, who saw well that his intentions were sinisterly in­terpreted, and that they suspected him to accuse heaven of injustice; to purge himselfe of this crime, and reclayme his enemy from this errour, said to him:

I agree with you that there is none innocent before God, I know it is so of a truth: but how should man be just with God? [Page 80]that our perfections compared with his, are reall faults, as our Being compared with his is nothing.

I know that a man being so rash as to dispute with him, If he will contend with him, he cannot answer him one of a thou­sand. can carry nothing away in the conflict but shame and losse, and that of a thousand things whereof God may ac­cuse him he shal hardly purge himselfe of one.

If they make warre against him with open force, He is wise in heart, & migh­ty in strength: who hath har­dened himself against him, and hath pro­spered. he is Almighty; and if they thinke to surpriae him by Artifice, he is Wisdome it selfe; he laughs at our attempts and our sub­tilties, and whosoever oppo­seth his Will, it is necessary he resolve upon an eternall warre.

He looseneth the Moun­taines from their roots, Which 50veth the mountains, and [...]ey know not which over­turneth them in his anger. he fills the Vallies with their breaches, and he causeth this destruction so suddenly, that [Page 81]those who should resent it can neither foresee nor avoid it.

He makes the earth trem­ble when he pleaseth, Which shaketh the earth our of her place, and the pillars thereof trem­ble: and though it be the center of the world, he makes it change its place when he will, and those columnes which serve it for a foundation, cease to be unmoveable when he spea­keth.

It was he who without be­ing ayded of men or Angels, Which commandeth the sun, and it riseth not: and sealeth up the stars: stretched forth the heavens, and rouled them in a circle; and whilest he might have been wholly taken up in so great a designe, Which alone spread­eth out the heavens, and treadeth upon the waves of the sea: he walked upon the sea, and taught that perfidious and proud element obedience and fidelity.

And it is not to be wonder­red at, Which maketh Arctu­rus, Orion, and Pleiades, and the chambers of the south. since those constellati­ons so knowne to the Marri­ners, and which either pre­sage tempests, or excite them, be the works of his hands: [Page 82]and that they have no influ­ence nor vertue, but what they have borrowed from his power.

Finally, Which doth great things past finding our, yea and wonders without num­ber. to paint him in his most lively colours, and de­signe him by those qualities which belong to none but him; he does things so great, as for not being to be com­prised, they ought to be ad­mired; and the greatnesse of them does not diminish the number, because they are in­finite.

As he is powerfull in his deeds, Lo, he goeth by me, and I see him not: he passeth on also, but I perceive him not. he is so secret in his designes, that he can come upon me and I not see him, and by the same reason he can retire himselfe, and I not perceive him.

His power is so absolute, Behold, he taketh a­way, who can hinder him? who will say unto him, what doest thou? that when he examines the guilty, he is not bound to ob­serve all the formalities of our Judges; his interrogations [Page 83]are so prompt, that it is im­possible to answer to them; and his discussions are so rigo­rous, that they cannot defend themselves from them; and though he deale in this man­ner, there is no one dares ask the reason of it.

When our crimes have provoked him, If God will not with­draw his an­ger, the proud helpers doe stoope under him. and to pu­nish them he hath taken thun­der in his hand, one must be without judgment for to think to resist him; The An­gels themselves, who move the heavens, and the Kings which govern the earth, finde no better meanes to appease his anger, than to humble themselves before him.

Being then but a man by my birth, How much lesse shal I an­swer him, and chuse out my words to rea­son with him. and a miserable man by my condition, how should I be able to reply to him in his fury? and with what an­dacity must I be animated to accost him my selfe, and to [Page 84]speake to him without Inter­preter, and without Advo­cate?

But though my birth were more illustrious, Whom, though I were righteous, yet would not an­swer, but I would make supplication to my Judge. and my con­dition more happy, I should not dare to defend my selfe against him; and knowing that he is my Judge and my Soveraigne; I should use ra­ther prayers than Reasons.

And though I did know that hee would heare them, If I had called, and he had answered me, yet would I not beleeve that hee had hearkened un­to my voyce. his greatnesse and my misery would perswade me that he would not listen to them; and I should beleeve that he had done his Majesty wrong, if he had daigned to entertaine himselfe with one that is mi­serable.

His proceeding agrees with my beliese, For he breaketh me with a tem­pest, and mul­tiplyeth: my wounds with­out cause. for he is alwayes angry, and never appeares but in clouds, great with thunder and lightning; when I pray him to cure my wounds, he [Page 85]makes me new ones; and to increase the griefe of them, he does not discover me the cause,

He doth not permit my minde to take a little rest. He will not suffer me to take my breath, but filleth me with bitternesse. The end of one evill is the birth of another; and oftentimes to overwhelme me, he ordains them to assault me in compa­ny, and to fall upon me all together.

Wonder not if he treat me thus, If I speak of strength; lo, he is strong: and if of judg­ment, who shall set me a time to plead? Power and Justice are on his side, and as inno­cent as I am, when he accuses me, or condemns me, there is not a witnesse who will de­pose in my favour, nor advo­cate who dare defend my cause.

If I undertooke to justifie my self, If I ju­stifie my selfe, mine owne mouth shall condemn me: If I say I am perfect, it shall also prove me perverse. my mouth and my heart taking his part, would condemne me; and if I had proved by my reasons that I am innocent, he would make [Page 86]me confesse by his, that I am guilty. Though I were perfect yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life Finally, were I the most just of men, and did the earth give me a publique testimony of it, he could make me lose the credit of it, and hide from me the purity of my soule, for to make my life wea­risome.

Wherefore I persist in my first opinion, This is one thing, therefore I said it, He destroy­eth the perfect and the wick­ed. and maintaine that God, using the power which his Soveraignty gives him, he involves the innocent with the guilty, and dispen­sing with our Lawes, he pro­portions not alwayes the pu­nishment to the sinne, nor re­compences to vertues.

If he hold this Maxime, If the scourge slay suddenly, he will laugh at the trial of the innocent. and will not spare the just when he punisheth the guilty, let him content himselfe to kill them once, and not mock at their torments to make them despaire. The earth is given into the hand of the wicked he covereth the faces of the judges there­of; if not, where, & who is he?

You would say that he go­vernes [Page 87]the earth like a Ty­rant, and that he takes plea­sure to blinde the Princes that governe it under him, and to make their depraved wills passe for very reasonable laws, for they cannot deny that he authorises those disorders since he distributes crownes, and gives them to Tyrants as well as to legitimate Princes.

During these disorders, Now my days are swift­er than a post: they flee a­way, they see no good. my dayes are past away more swiftly than a Post who brings good newes; and du­ring their flight, my eyes have seene nothing which may give content to my soule.

They have fled away as those Vessels which carrying fruits, They are passed away as the swift ships: as the eagle that ha­steth to the prey. of which the Marri­ners apprehend the corrupti­on, go with displayed Sayles; or as those Eagles who search their prey, and whose natu­rall lightnesse is also assisted by the famine which devoures them.

When I resolve to hold my peace, If I say I will forget my complaint, I will leave off my heavinesse, & comfort my self: and that I forbid my eyes teares, and my mouth sighs, my face betrayes me, and they observe there all that passeth in my soule.

Wherefore without any longer keeping of silence, I am a­fraid of all my sorrowes, I know that thou wilt not hold me innocent. which prejudiceth me, I will complaine to you, oh my God, and tell you that I have alwayes lived in your feare; That I have been scrupulous rather than a Libertine; and knowing well that you spared not those who offended you, I have alwayes walked in in­nocence.

But if after all my cares, If I be wicked, why then labour I in vain? you make me passe for guilty, and if you pay my services as offences, have not I lost my time? and are not my labours, being so ill acknowledged, unprofitable?

Though I were washed in the waters, If I wash my selfe with snow-water, & make my hands never so clean. and my white­nesse [Page 89]equalled that of the snow; though my hands were cleane, and the purity of my heart surpassed that of my body,

You would observe faults in my person, Yet shalt thou plurge me in the ditch, & mine owne clothes shall abhor me your holinesse would discover impurities in my soule, your justice would finde disorders in my body, and my clothes for to accom­modate themselves to your in­clination, and serve your Ju­stice, would be afraid, and would not be able to indure me.

For when I contest with you, For he is not a man as I am, that I should answer him, and we should come together in judgement. I see that my adversary is not a man, and that there is no Tribunall on earth where I may hope, that your right and mine may be equal­ly discussed.

There is no person which can determine our differences, Neither is there any daies-man be­twixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both. since you are a party, I have no more Judge; and in this [Page 90]contestation where I oppose my innocence to your Justice, I finde no Arbiter who can bring us to accord.

If notwithstanding you sweeten a little the paines which I suffer, Let him take his rod a­way from me, and let not his feare terrifie me. if you disarm those hands which carry thunder, and if you temper that Majesty which begets my feare

I would speak with liberty, Then would I speak, and not feare him, but it is not so with me. my innocence should furnish me with reasons to de­fend my self: but in the asto­nishment that I am, I have nei­ther words nor thoughts, and my silence, which is but an ef­fect of my feare, passeth for an effect of my sinne.

CHAP. X.

I Am weary of li­ving, My soul is weary of my life, I will leave my com­plaint upon my self, I will speake in the bitternesse of my soul. and to see the end of my mi­series; I wish for the end of my dayes; in the griefe which presses me, I can­not keepe silence; and because I knew not to whom to betake me, I will say unto God, Do not condemne me, shew me wherfore thou cotendest with me. I must speake against my selfe, and give way to my com­plaints, [Page 92]to give ease to my paines: Whatever then come of it, I will say to God, Con­demne me not without hea­ring me, or if you are resol­ved upon it, grant to me if you please one favour, which they refuse not to the most culpable, and declare to me for what sins you punish me.

What advantage can you draw from my losses, Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppresse, that thou should­est despise the work of thine hands, & shine upon the coun­sell of the wic­ked? and what profit will come to you if calumny triumph over my innocence, if my enemies ru­ine the worke of your hands, and if to facilitate the execu­tion of their pernicious de­signes, you assist them with your power?

Are you ignorant of the estate of my life? Hast thou eyes of flesh? or feest thou as man seeth? Are your eyes like ours, which see but the appearance of things, and cannot penetrate the bottome of them? Is your knowledge propt upon feeble conjectures, [Page 93]like ours, and can ignorance serve you for an excuse (as it does us) in your judgements?

Are your dayes numbred like ours? Are thy dayes as the dayes of man? are thy yeers as mans dayes? and are your yeares composed of those moments which follow one another, and which are the cause that we possesse but the least part of our life?

If your knowledge be in­fallible, That thou enquirest after mine iniquity, and searchest after my sin? and your durance eternall, what need you search into my sinnes with so much earnestnesse, and corture me to make my mouth speake a thing which you may read in my heart?

What necessity is there of so carefully clearing to you my innocence, Thou knowest that I am not wicked, and there is none that can deliver out of thine hand. since whereso­ever I am, I am alwayes in your power, and there is no one in the world which can take me out of your hands?

Change the your designe, Thine hands have made me, and fashioned me together round about; yet thou doest destroy me. remember that I am your [Page 94]worke, and that there is no part of my body which is not an effect of your power: Not­withstanding as if you were but equall, if seemes that you have resolved to ruine me, and that you seeke for glory in my overthrow.

Remember that durt is the matter of which you have composed me, Remem­ber, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, & wilt thou bring me into dust a­gain? and as of so weake beginnings, you cannot hope for great progresses, it is necessary that I perish pre­sently, and that having been earth before my birth, I be­come dust after my death.

Consider if you please that you have given me my being, Hast thou not poured me out as milk, & curdled me like cheese? and as shepherds prepare milk and make it curdle into cheese, so have you disposed of the blood of my mother, and thickning it by the natu­rall heat you have formed my body of it. Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones & sinewes.

Of the same matter (Di­vine [Page 95]workeman) you have made a hundred different parts, for the bone which su­staines us, the Nerves which give us motion, and the skin which serves us for covering and Ornament, are in their first originall but the same blood which you have thus diversified.

As your divine wisedome leaves nothing imperfect in nature, Thou hast granted me life and fa­vour, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. you animated this worke with the breath of your mouth, and as your pro­vidence abandons not your creatures, you conserved that by your care, which you have produced by your mercy.

Although it seeme you a­gree not with me in all this discourse, And these things hast thou hid in thine heart: I know that this is with thee. and that to con­ceale your sentiments from me you treat me rather as your enemy then as your crea­ture, I know that you retaine the memory of the favours [Page 96]which you have done me, and that you cannot resolve to ru­ine a man, whom you have so much obliged,

But if these conjectures are true, If I sin, then thou mar­kest me, and thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity. why then do you punish me? the sins of my youth can­not be the cause, for I have re­pented of them, and you have pardoned them, why then am I not exempt from the pu­nishment, if I am absolved from the offence?

Whatsoever it be, If I be wicked, woun­to me, and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head: I am full of confusi­on, therefore see thou mine affliction: you ought not to punish me with so much rigour, for if I am guilty, I shall bee unhappy enough, my sinne shall serve me for punishment; and if I am just, my innocence shall not cause in me any vanity, for, alas, whence should he have it, whom you make drunke with teares, and whom you surfet with mise­ries.

Notwithstanding as if I [Page 97]were the proudest of men, For it in­creaseth: thou huntest me as a fierce Lion: and again, thou shewest thy selfe marvel­lous upon me. you treat me like a savage beast: The huntsmen exercise not more cruelties upon a furious Lionesse, then you exercise upon me; and when I beleeve that my miseries are about to end, you returne more anima­ted then ever, and make me suffer new ones, which be­get astonishment and horror in the minds of those who be­hold them. Thou re­newest thy witnesses a­gainst me, and increasest thine indigna­tion upon me; changes and war are against me.

All your creatures serve for your anger; your Angels and your Devils are witnesses which depose against me; and the diseases which assault me, are the souldiers which de­fend your quarrell.

Since you did reserve me for so many miseries, Wherfore then hast thou brought me forth out of the wombe: Oh that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me. why did you take me out of the womb of my mother? and since you have concluded that I should be the Fable of the world, and that my misery should be as [Page 98]shamefull as it is unjust, why did you not oblige death to take away my life, I should have been, as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the wombe to the grave. for to con­serve my honour?

I should be now as if I had not been, and without pas­sing through those different degrees of a long & miserable life, I should have been car­ryed from the Cradle to the Grave, and from the wombe of my proper Mother into the bosome of my common one. Are not my dayes few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a lit­tle.

Shall my desires never be heard? shall the yeares which seem so short to contented men, and so long to the un­happy, never end with me? & will you (Lord) never give me any truce to sigh forth my griefs with freedom? Before I go whence I shall not re­turn, even to the land of darknesse, and the shadow of death.

Grant me this favour before I leave the world, and that to obey the decree which you have pronounced against all men, A land of darknessē, as darknesse it self, and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darknesse. I returne to the bosome [Page 99]of the earth, where the light never dissipates the darknesse, where happinesse never suc­ceeds misery, where Death ne­ver suffers life, where order raignes no more, and where Confusion hath established her empire.

CHAP. XI.

CHAP. XI WHen grief had shut up the mouth of Job, Then answered Zo­phar the Naa­mathite, and said, Zo­phar his third friend, who took all his words for bla­sphemies, sayd to him with more passion then charity, Sould not the multitude of words be answered? and should a man full of talke be justified?

You must needs be barren in reasons, since you are so fruitfull in injuries: and we may well inferre that pru­dence hath little part in your actions, since after having spoken so long, you yet make difficulty of hearing us. Should thy lies make men hold their peaces, and when tho [...]mockdst, should no man make thee a­shamed?

You have too much vanity if you beleeve that men be obli­ged to approve your discour­ses, and to suffer you to be in­solent, because you are mise­rable; your scurrilities would well deserve censures, and tis to treat you with too much sweetnesse, to confute them by our reasons, and to give you good advice for inju­ries. For thou hast said, my doctrine is pure, and I am clean in thine eyes.

You have said with a high [Page 101]insolence, that your words and actions were pure, and that God himself in his tribu­nall where he examines all things with rigour, could con­demne nothing in your per­son.

You would change your language if he had conversed with you: But oh that God would speak and open his lips against thee! and if doing you an honour whereof you are unworthy, he had opened his mouth to declare to you his secrets.

You would see that one must be very just to observe all his lawes, And that he would shew thee the secrets of wisdome, that they are double to that which is! knowe there­fore, that God exacteth of thee lesse then thine iniquity deserveth. and whatsoever good opinion you have of your innocence, you would acknowledge that the paines which you suffer, are much lesse then your sinnes, and that God never had so much ri­gour but that he hath more bounty.

Your pride is the cause of your destruction, Canst thou by searching finde out God? canst thou finde out the Allmigh­ty unto perfe­ction? and without [Page 102]considering that you cannot conceive the least workes of God, you would comprehend his perfections, and know why his providence permitts the just to be unhappy.

How rash are your thoughts and how presumptuous is your ignorance! It is as high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper then hell, what canst thou know? God is more elevated then the heavens, and you thinke to know him; he is more profound then the A­bysses, and you thinke to sound him.

And if it be permitted to use tearmes wherewith we describe Bodyes, The mea­sure thereof is longer then the earth, and broader then the sea. for to des­cribe the greatest of spirits, he is longer than the earth, and broader then the sea; and you thinke to comprehend him? The earth is very great, and the vaste fields which it containes are sensible proofs of its great­nesse. The sea is very large, and those plaines of which our eyes cannot see the extremi­ties, [Page 103]give us good testimonies of it: Both of them though have their bounds, and the be­ing of God being infinite can have no limits.

His power which is no lesse then his immensity, If he cut off, and shut up or gather toge­ther, then who can hinder him? finds nothing which resists it, and if he would ruine his workes, or reduce them to that first confusion which he so wisely untangled at the birth of the world, For he knoweth va [...] men; he seeth wickednesse also; will he not consider it? there is none who can oppose himself to his designes. But that which ought most to astonish us, is, that as he knows the weaknesse of men, he is not ignorant of their malice, and if he be good e­nough to execute the one, he is just enough to punish the o­ther.

It is injuriously then that vayne Man boasts himself; For vain man would be wise, though man be horn like a wilde as­ses colt. and like a young Colt which hath never beene backed, he esteems himselfe born free, and that [Page 104]without doing him violence they cannot prescribe him Lawes. If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch out thine hands towards him.

You please your selfe in these sentiments, since you ac­cuse the justice which punish­eth you, and your obstinate heart provokes the wrath of God, when your hands lifted up to heaven implore his mercy.

But if reforming your acti­ons and your words you ba­nish Sin out of your Soule, If iniqui­ty be in thine hand, put it far away, and let not wickednes dwell in thy tabernacles. and if swearing an eternall divorce with impiety, you never re­ceive it in your house:

Then you may lift up your eyes without confusion; For then shast thou lift up thy face without spot, yea, thou shalt be stedfast, and shalt not feare. and as there shall be no disorder in your soul, there shall be no shame seen upon your face; your happinesse shal be so per­fect, that you shall have no more evills to feare, nor good things to desire.

You shall be so content, Because thou shalt for­get thy misery, and remember it as waters that passe away. that [Page 105]the pleasure which you shall taste, shall deface the remem­brance of your past miseries, and it shall be as hard to call them againe as the waters of a river which are glided a­way.

Your glory which seems now to be darkned, And thine age shall be clearer then the noon-day; thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning. shall cleer up like the Sun in its Meridi­an; and when you thinke your selfe to be in your set­ting, you shall rise with as much lustre, as the star which brings us back the day. And thou shalt be secure, because there is hope, yea, thou shalt dig about thee, and thou shalt take thy rest in safety.

And if it happen that any misfortune threaten you, hope shall never abandon you in danger, you shall sltepe with as much security as if you were in a town of warre, shut up with ditches, Also thou shalt lie down, and none shall make thee a­fraid, yea many shall make sute unto thee. and de­fended with Bulwarkes.

You shall enjoy a profound repose which your enemies shall not be able to trouble; those who despise your bad [Page 106]fortune, shall implore your favour, and changing their re­proaches into prayers, they shal, beg your succour in their need.

But the wicked shal lift their eyes to heaven in vaine, But the eyes of the wicked shall faile, and they shall not e­scape, and their hope shall be as the giving up of the ghost. and shall not get assistance thence: the earth shall be no longer favourable to them; for in their dangers they shall not finde a sanctuary to retire to, and in their necessities, they shall be constrained to wish what others are afraid of.

CHAP. XII.

AS our unfortunate Prince had perceived that his sweetnesse wronged his inno­cence, And Job answered, and said; he replyes with a just indignation to his friends, and s [...]yes to them, No doubt but ye are the people, and wisedom shalls die with you.

Your Vanity then hath per­swaded you that there are no men in the world but you, that reason hath left us to give it self wholy to you, and that wisdome is so tyed to your persons, that her conservati­on and her ruine depends up­on yours.

I pray you beleeve, But I have understanding as well as you, I am. not inferiour to you: yea, who knoweth not such things as these? that she is familiar with us, as well as you; that when they shall exa­mine [Page 108]the qualities of our minds, they shall finde that mine is not lesse then yours; and that all which you have said of Divine providence, is so common, that not to know it, one must be absolutely ig­norant. I am as one mocked of his neighbour, who calleth upon God, and he answereth him: the just upright man is laughed to scorne.

I know well enough that my fortune makes my person despised, and since my mi­sery they have judged evil­ly of it: but I am not igno­rant also, that God favours those who call upon him, that he assists the just who are for­saken by their friends, and that nothing obligeth him so much to succour them, as the little esteem that is made of their innocence.

They are like torches whose brightnesse, He that is ready to flip with his feet, is as a lampe despised in the thought of him that is at ease. rich men dazled with the lustre of worldly things, consider not; but as e­very thing hath its revolution, their contempt shall change [Page 109]into esteem, and they shall seeke one day to be illumina­ted with their light.

Notwithstanding Abund­ance conspires with peace to enrich the houses of the wick­ed, The Ta­bernacles of robbers pro­sper, and they that provoke God are secure into whose hand God bringeth a­bundantly. and though they hold all their goods from the liberali­ty of God, their ingratitude makes them forget it, and their insolence transports them to provoke his anger. But aske now the beasts and they shall teach thee; and the fowles of the aire, and they shall tell thee.

It is certaine then that the favours which heaven heapes upon men are not alwayes a good proof of their innocence, nor the afflictions which he sends them an assured testimo­ny of their wickednesse: he is Master of his creatures, he disposeth of them as he plea­seth: and his truth is so well known, that if you aske the birds of the aire, or the beasts of the earth, they will both make you know by their an­swers, that they are not [Page 108] [...] [Page 109] [...] [Page 110]ignorant of it.

Speake to the earth it selfe, Or speake to the earth, and it shall teach thee; and the fishes of the sea shall declare umto thee. its fruitfulnesse which is ne­ver weary of bringing forth, will teach you the same thing? and the fishes of the sea as dumbe as they are, will give give you new assurances of it.

Also one must be very stu­pid to be ignorant that all the creatures are the works of Gods hands, Who know­eth not all these that the hand of the Lord bath wrought this? and as their dif­ferent qualities are effects of his power, and their different motions are markes of his providence.

Who knowes not at last that their being depends upon his will, In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind that as he hath pro­duced them he can annihilate them, and that the nobility in which man glories doth not exempt him from this necessi­ty?

The minde of man may as easily conceive of these Doth not the eare try words, and the mouth taste his meat? [Page 111]truths, as the ear judgeth cer­tainly of the variety of sounds, and the tongue of the diversity of tasts.

But though nature should have denyed us this know­ledge, With the antient is wis­dome, and in length of days understanding it were easie to gather it from those venerable old men, to whom time being a master hath discovered secrets which young ones are ignorant of.

But if it be permitted me to make tryall of my abilities, With him is wisdom and strength, he [...] hath counsell and understan­ding. and strive for victory over the weake prayses which you have given to God, I shall tell you that wisdom and force which are divided betwixt the old & the young are united in him; and as by his supreame intelli­gence he knowes generall things, by his incomparable providence he governes parti­cular ones, and conducts them happily to their end.

This power of which you speak, is so absolute, Behold, he breaketh downe, and it cannot be built againe: he shutteth up a man, and there can be no ope­ning. that if he [Page 112]ruine townes, it is in vaine to undertake to raise them again; and if he confine a malefactor to prison, they strive to no purpose to deliver him.

If he shut up the heavens & hinder the clouds from dissol­ving into raine, Behold, he withhold­eth the waters, and they dry up: also he sendeth them out, and they o­verturne the earth. the earth shall be barren, or if it produceth some [...]ruits, the drought shall not permit them to come to perfect maturity; if he open the sluces to the waters of heaven, they will overflow all the earth, and making a se­cond deluge they will againe overthrow its buildings.

It is true then that he hath Power, With him is strength and wisedome: the deceived and the deceiver are his. & if you doubt that he hath wisedome, know that he understands the artifices of those who deceive others, and the simplicity of those who let themselves be deceived.

He mockes at Statesmen, He leadeth counsellers a­way spoyled, & maketh the Judges fools. and causeth that their wisest counsells are followed but [Page 113]with bad events; He loo­seth the bond of Kings, and girdeth their loyns with a girdle. he blindeth those who make lawes, and makes Judges stupid, who are appointed over the people to govern them; but his power never shines forth more, then when he assaulteth Monarchs, when he taketh the Crowne from their heads, and treating them like slaves, he despoyles them of their belts, leadeth them with chaines, and makes their backs bend under the weight of their Irons.

Or when he changeth the glory of priests into contempt, He lead­eth Princes a­way spoyled, & overthroweth the mighty. and to confound their pride, he permits his temples to be violated, and his altars profa­ned; or when he ruines those men, whom berth, or favour of Princes hath elevated to the highest degree of honours. He remo­veth away the speech of the trusty, and ta­keth away the understanding of the aged.

And do not think that the qualities of the minde are lesse subject to his power, then those of the body or of for­tune; [Page 114]he can take credit from those who speak the truth; he takes away the power of per­swading from the most elo­quent, and makes old men lose that knowledge, which time and travaile hath acqui­red them.

When he will chastise Princes, He pow­reth contempt upon Princes, and weakneth the strength of the mighty. he takes from them that esteeme, which main­taines their reigne, he casts confusion upon their faces, or renders them despicable to their subjects, and producing at the same time a contrary ef­fect, he takes the the misera­ble out of oppression, and makes them mount upon the throne of Kings.

He discovers the most hid­den crimes, He disco­vereth the deep things out of dark­nes, and bring­eth to light the shadow of death. he makes publick those pernicious designes which are conceived in the darke, and which have no o­ther witnesses then the night; he does wonders upon all oc­casions, [Page 115]he brigns day into the Abysses of our heart and makes evident their most se­cret thoughts.

Be doth he not appear very absolute, He increa­seth the nati­ons, and de­stroyeth them: he inlargeth the nations, & straightneth them againe. when to increase the number of people, he makes women fruitfull, and for to di­minish it he makes lands bar­ren; or when touched with their teares, or conquered with their prayers, he deli­vers them from their miseries, and reestablishes them in their former greatnes?

Is not this an admirable point of wisdome and justice when he changes the heart of Princes, He taketh away the heart of the cheif of the people of the earth, and causeth them to wander in a wildernesse, where there is no way. which he holds in his hands, when for to deceive them, he maks them leave their good resolutions, which they had taken in their counsel, and ingageth them in designes, where they cannot get off but with dishonour.

To see then their imprudent They grope in the darke without light, and he maketh them to stagger like a drunken man. [Page 116]conduct, you would take them for men who walke in the darke, and to consider their actions, you would think that they are drunke, and that wine hath made them lose their judgement.

CHAP. XIII.

CHAP. XIII YOu may judge by my dis­courses that I have well comprehended yours, Lo, mine eye hath seen all this, mine eare hath heard & understood it. and that you have spoken nothing which my ear hath not well heard, and my mind better conceived.

You see that our know­ledge is equall; What ye know, the same do I know also, I am not inferi­our unto you. That I am not ignorant of what you know, and that it was without vani­ty that my science gave not place to yours.

Wherefore I will hence­forth addresse my words to the Almighty, Surely I would speak to the Almighty, and I desire to reason with God. and without losing more time in confer­ring unprofitably with you, I will dispute boldly with him.

But I desire first to make you see, But yee are forgers of lies, ye are all Phy­sitians of no value. that you take pleasure in inventing lyes, and that one of your most ordinary exerci­ses is to teach pernicious max­ims, and to defend them by worse reasons.

Would to God you had learned to hold your peace, O that you would altoge­ther hold your peace, and it should be your wisedome. and that instead of making bad discourses, you had been able to keep silence, at least you would have had the appe­rance of wise men, although you had not had the senti­ments, and those which did not know you by your face would judge well of your mind. Hear now my reasoning, and hearken to the pleadings of my lips.

But since you have not fol­lowed so good counsels, heark­en at least, to my reprehensi­ons, and profiting by the good advice, which my mouth shall give you, suffer your selves to be perswaded by my reasons.

Do you think that God hath need of lyes for the de­fence of the truth, Will you speak wicked­ly for God? & talk deceit­fully for him? and that to winne his cause, and get the better of me, your artifices be necessary to him? Will yee accept his per­son? will yee contend for God?

Do you think that his right [Page 119]is so bad, that he hath need of your favour, and do you think to oblige his Majesty when you pronouce a decree which shall wound his justice.

Do you remember that no wicked thing can please him, It is good that you should search you out? or as one man mocketh another, do yee so mock him? who knowes all things, and that with whatsoever faire pretext you cover your bad designes, he will easily disco­ver them, and not suffer him­self to be deceived by your ar­tifices, like men who not a­ble to penetrate your senti­ments, are obliged to rest up­on your words.

He will blame you publick­ly for having taken his part a­gainst mine, He will surely reprove you, if you do secretly accept persons. and for having desired to gaine his favour at the expence of my innocence.

Assoon as he shall appeare to punish you, Shall not his excellency make you a­fraid? and his dread fal upon you? the first moti­on of his anger shall put you in disorder, and the brightnes of his offended Majesty, shall [Page 120]strike your spirits with asto­nishment.

After your punishment, Your re­membrances are like unto ashes, your bo­dies to bodies of clay. which memory of your name shall disperse it self like ashes, which they cast into the River: and that glory which makes you so insolent, shall become more despicable then dirt.

Hold your peace then, and without interesting your self further in my misfortunes, Hold your peace, let me a­lone, that I may speak, and let come on me what will. my heart shall suggest to it.

Why must I be reduced to teare my body with my teeth, Where­fore do I take my flesh in my teeth, and put my life in mine hand? and my miserable life be expo­sed to more dangers, then if I carryed it in my hands, and that it were given up to the fury of my enemyes?

These without doubt are ef­fects of Gods anger, Though hee slay me, yet will, I trust in him: but I will maintaine mine owne wayes before him. and if he were not provoked he would not punish me so cruelly; but though his justice con­demne me to death, I will ever [Page 121]hope that his goodnesse will repeal the Decree, and that acquiescing in the reasons which I shall produce, it will absolve me from all the crimes that they impose upon me.

So then the God which you judge to be the author of my ruine, He also shall be my salvation: for an hypocrite shall not come before him. shall be the author of my salvation, and the boldnes wherewith I shall go to him shall not be a small testimony of my innocence, since they knew that hypocrytes dare not approach him nor ap­peare before his throne.

Hearken then to my dis­courses, Hear di­ligently my speech, and my declaration with your ears. and to learne of me that one may be innocent and miserable; understand the ex­plication of a Riddle, which Heaven hath proposed to you in my person, and which you have not yet been able to ex­plain. Behold now. I have or­dered my cause know that I shall be justifi­ed.

If I be judged according to [Page 122]the ordnary formes, and if God renouncing the rights of Soveraignty, keep himself to the terms of justice, my in­nocence shall be acknowled­ged, and all the world shall see that though I am afflicted, I am not guilty.

I hold this truth so con­stantly, Who is he that will plead with me? for now if I hold my tongue, I shall give up the ghost. that there is no one but I hope to perswade to it, and whosoever it be that con­tests with me, I make account to convince him, and make him avow, that to hold my peace in so just an occasion of speaking, were to increase my sorrow, and betray my innocence.

But O God who art my principal adversary and with whom my misfortune will have me to have difference, Only do not two things unto me: then will I not hide my selfe from thee. if you accord me only two con­ditions, I will not flye the combat, I will defend my cause in your presence and [Page 123]make it appear that thou art just, and that I am couragi­ous.

Make my paines cease; Withdraw thine hand far from me: and let not thy dread make me afraid. for a man that suffers hath not li­berty to speak, and give me the assurance which your Ma­jesty hath taken from me; for feare puts a man in disorder, and permits him not well to duce h [...]s reasons.

Upon these conditions I am assured of the gaining of my cause, Then cal thou, and I wil answer; or let me speake, and answer thou me. that without trou­bling my self, whither the first that discourseth hath the ad­vantage, I put it to your choyce to oppose me, or de­fend your self, to speak or to heare, to begin or to end the dispute.

And since your silence in­viteth me to speake, How ma­no are mine i­niquities and sins? make me to know my transgression and my sin. tell me what are my sins, and if you will have me have sorrow for them as I have paine, declare to me their qualities and number.

Why do you hide your face from me, Wherfore hidest thou thy face, and holdest me for thine enemy? test [...]fying by this action, that you can neither answer me, nor endure me, and as often as you see me, you thinke you see one of your most mortall enemies.

What honor wil you carry a­way by imploying your pow­er against a leaf, Wilt thou breake a leafe driven to and fro? and wilt thou pur­sue the dry stubble? which serves as pastime for the winds? and what glory can you get by persecuting a miserable man who like dry straw hath no force nor vigour to resist you?

You know that I complain with Reason, For thou writest bitter things against me, and ma­kest me to pos­sesse the ini­quities of my youth. since after your mouth had pronounced the sentence of my death, you write it with your hand, and go to ground it upon the fol­lyes of my youth, for to give it some colour.

Finally as if I were some signall malefactor, Thou put­test my feet al­so in the stocks and lookest narrowly unto all my paths; thou sectest a print upon the heels of my feet. you put i­rons upon my feet, you over­look [Page 125]all my actions, and to finde proofs against an inno­cent you observe all my words and my thoughts.

When you come with all this diligence to ruine me, And he as a rotten thing consumeth, as a garment that is moth-eaten. you have without doubt forgotten that I am but rottennesse, and that my body being of no bet­ter condition then my clothes, it must one day be the nou­rishment of wormes.

CHAP. XIIII.

MAn is borne of woman, Man that is borne of a wo­man, is of few daies, and full of trouble. and as he hath received being from her, he hath deri­ved weaknesse; he lives here few years, He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut downe: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not but in so short a term he suffers many miseryes.

He is borne like a flower, and passeth away like it; he is like the shadow of our Qua­drants in a perpetuall moti­on, and change is so far passed into his nature, that notwith­standing all his endeavours he cannot remaine one sole moment in the same conditi­on.

Notwithstanding, And doest thou open [...]hine eyes up­ [...]on such a one and bringest me into judge­ment with thee? Lord, you esteeme him worthy of your anger, you have your [Page 127]eyes open upon him to exa­mine all his actions, and you cite him before your Tribu­nall, that he may give you an account of them. Who can bring a cleane thing out of an uncleane? nor one.

His birth might serve him for an excuse in his sin; for who can make an innocent of a man conceived in crimes? and who can make, but you only to whom miracles are ea­sie, the progresse of his life to be pure, the entring of it be­ing so shamefull and guilty?

And though the sin of his fa­ther should not diminish his own, Seeing his dayes are de­termined, the number of his monthes are with thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot passe. at least you ought to par­don the shortnesse of his days, and consider that you keep an account of his yeers, and that you have given him bounds beyond which his life cannot extend.

Withdraw your self then from him, Turn from him that he may rest, til he shall accom­plish, as an hireling, his his day. and let him expect in patience till the day of his death: content your self with [Page 128]the evils that he suffers with­out procuring him new ones, and permit him to comfort himself like a poor mercenary in hope of the happy day, which must end his travail, and begin his rest.

So will you be sufficiently revenged by his death, For there is hope of a tree, if it be cutt downe, that it will sprout a­gaine, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease. which puts him in a worse conditi­on then trees; for after they are cut they leave some hope to their Masters, and the sap which animates them makes them recover their verdure, and thrust forth new Branch­es. Though the root there­of wax old in the earth, and the stock there­of dye in the ground;

When time hath made their roots old, and age taken from them their vigour, and their Trunke being planted in a bad soyle, drawes up no more nourishment. Yet through the sent of wa­ter it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant.

At the very smell of the waters they recover their former force, and moi­sture giving them life, they [Page 129]cover their heads with a new peruke, and as at the day of their birth they crown it with boughes.

But when man is dead all hope dies with him, But man dieth, and wa­steth away: yea, man giveth up the ghost, and where is he? for after the soul is despoyled of the bo­dy, and the body is reduced into dust, neither the endea­vours of nature, nor the ad­dresses of art can restore him to life. As the waters faile from the sea, & the flood de­cayeth and dri­eth up:

As it would be impossible to gather together the waters of the sea if they were disper­sed, or to keep together those of a river if the source were dry.

So cannot they bring a man back from the grave when he is once gone down thi­ther; So man li­eth downe, and riseth not, till the heavens be no more, they shall not awake nor be raised, out of their fleepe. and the sleep of death is so profound that he shall not awake till heaven worne away with age and wearied with its long travailes shall stop its motions, and suspend [Page 130]its influences.

This fatall condition which frightens all the world, O that thou wouldest hide me in the grave, and that thou wouldest keep me secret, until thy wrath be past, that tiou wouldest appoint mea a fet time, and remember me. rejoy ceth me when I thinke on it, and I should esteeme my selfe very happy, if during the misfortunes which make war upon me, the grave might serve me for a sanctuary, and if heaven woold oblige it self to bring me thence when my miseries shall be finished, and its anger passed over.

But as these wishes are un­profitable, If a man die, shall he live again? all the dayes of mine appoint­ed time will I wait, till my change come. and as man cannot live again to dye any more, since I am at warre with for­row, I sigh after that blessed day where my soul united to its body, shall give it part of its glory.

You shall call me by the voice of that horrid trumpet which must raise again all the dead; Thou shalt call, and I will answer thee: thou wilt have a desire to the worke of thine hands. to obey your orders I will answer you from the grave, and to draw me out of [Page 131]that obscure prison, you shall give me your hand, whereof I have the honour to be the workmanship.

I do not lose this hope, For now thou number­est my stepps: dost thou not watch over my sinnes? al­though I know that you count all my steps, consider the least actions of my life, for I perswade my self that your mercy will triumph over your Justice, and that my prayers wil oblige you to par­don me my sinnes. My trans­gression is sea­led up in a bag, and thou [...]ow­est up mine i­niquity.

I know you weigh their quality, as you count their number; but I beleeve also that my paines have defaced them, and that there is no sicknesse so troublesome but may be cured by so violent a remedy. And sure­ly the mount­aine falling commeth to nought: and the rock is re­moved out of his place.

There was no need though to treat a man with so much rigour; for if the assaults of the winds, and the flashes of the lightning beat down the pride of the mountains, and if the [Page 132]rocks by the violence of the rivers are unfastened from their places:

If the waters which have no consistence, The wa­ters weare the stones: thou washest away the things which grow out of the dust of the earth, & zhou destroyest the hope of man. and which fall drop by drop hollow the stones which are so hard, and if the sea unsensibly under­mine its banks, it will not be hard for your Omnipotence to ruine man, which hath neither the steadinesse of mountaines, nor the hard­nesse of rocks.

Yet one would judge that he hath not received his strength from your hand, Thou pre­vailest for ever against him, & he passeth: thou changest his countenance, and sendest him away. but to support all the changes which happen in his person during the course of his life; for after sadnesse and yeares have altered his countenance you give him his discharge & send him into another world nevr to returne againe.

He is ignorant in that of all which passeth in this, His sons come to ho­nour, and he knoweth it not, and they are brought low, but he perceiveth it not of them. and ha­ving [Page 133]no more commerce with men, he hath no part in the glory nor in the contempt of his children.

But as long as he is living his body is afflicted with a thousand evils, But his flesh upon him shal have pain, and his soule within him shall mourne. and though his soule by the condition of her creation be exempt from them, yet she bears a part in them, and becomes mi­serable with it.

The Fifteenth CHAP.

ELiphaz, Then an­swered Eli­phaz the The­manite, and said, who could not suffer the just reproaches Job of replyes in choler.

If you were as wise as you think you are, Should a wise man utter vaine know­ledge, and fill his belly with the East-wind? you would not speak with so much vanity, but you would command an­ger which transports you, and you would not cast so many unprofitable words into the aire for to exaggerate your griefes.

But with a high insolence you assault your Soveraigne, Should hee reason with unprofirable talke? or with speeches wher­in he can do no and with a notable indiscreti­on you fly on discourses, which ca [...]not be followed but with punishment and re­pentance.

You have done all your en­deavours, Yea, tho [...] ­costest off sear, and restrainest prayer before God. to banish out of the world the feare of God and after these impudent words, which offend h [...]aven and earth, you will not have recourse to prayer, which though is the sole meanes that remaines to appease God, and the onely remedy which you have to sweeten your mise­ries.

For whereas your misery ought to have put regrets and fighs in your mouth; For thy mouth uttereth thine iniquity, and thou choo­est the tongue of the crafty. your i­niquity hath put injuries there and in hearing you speake one may see that you use the lan­guage of blasphemers, and that you have a designe to imitate them.

But without putting my self to the trouble to reply to you, Thine own mouth con­demneth thee, and not I: yea, thine own lips testifie against thee. your own mouth shall condemn you, and disavow­ing all the maximes which you have in [...]iscreetly uttered, [Page 136]and you shall prevent our an­swers, and change your opini­on.

Do you think your selfe the first of men either in birth or merit? Art thou the first man that was born? os wast thou made before the hills? And would your fol­ly have perswaded you that at your age, you were formed before the mountains, and that being as ancient as the world there hath nothing past in all ages, whereof you have not had a perfect knowledg?

Have you entred into the Counsell of God for to give him advice? Hast thou hea [...]d the se­cret of God? and dost thou restraine wise­dome to thy selfe? have you con­tested concerning any busines with him? have you found that his wisdom was inferiour to yours, and that he had need of your instructions, for the conduct of the universe?

But without flattering your vanity with such high compa­risons, What koow­est thou that we know not? What under­standest thou, which is not in us. what do you know that we are ignorant of? and what truth do you understand [Page 137]which are hidden from us?

If you thinke to prevaile with the conferences which you have had with the anti­ents of your state, With us are both the gray-headed, and very aged men, much el­der then thy fa­ther. you must know that we treat every day with men who are more anci­en tand more wise then your masters.

You complaine of your los­ses, Are the consolations of God small with thee? Is there any se­cret thing with thee? and as if your evill were without remedy, you speak to God without respect: Cer­tainly if you had ever so little of your senses left you, you would judge that nothing were more easie with him, then to reestablish you in your former fortune; and it may be he would alrea­dy have done it, is the inso­lence of your words had not hindred him.

Why does your pride raise you above your condition? Why doth thine heart carry thee a­way? and what doth thine eyes winke at. why do they read in your [Page 138]eyes that you have thoughts of vanity in your heart, and that you conceive designs that surpasse your power?

Why does your minde re­volt against God? That thou tu [...]nest thy spi­rit against God, and let­test such words go out of thy mouth? why does your rash tongue accuse his Providence? and why do you utter words which offend his Justice?

I know you often alledge your innocence; What is man, that he should be cleane? and he that is borne of a woman that he should be righteous? but can one be formed of earth, and not sullyed with sin? and can one call himself the sonne of a wo­man, and boast of being just?

Amongst those great men who by their piety have ac­quired the name of Saints, Behold, he putteth no trust in his Saints, yea, the heavens are not cleare in his sight. there have been found some unfaithfull: and amongst the angels, which are the princi­pall Ornaments of Heaven, there have been found apo­states.

How much more light and lesse faithfull will man be, How much more abomi­nable & filthy is man, which drinketh ini­quity like wa­ter? whom his birth makes abo­minable, whom his weak­nesse makes unprofitable, whom his inclination car­ries to evills, and by a strange blindnesse perswades himselfe that to drinke water, and to commit sin, are two actions equally indifferent?

If you will hear me I will impart to you some of my light, I will shew thee, hear me: and that which I have seen I will de­clare. and to draw you from the error wherein you live, I will relate to you what I have seen.

I will tell you nothing which wise men beleeve not as well as I, Which wise men have told me from their fatheas, and have not hid it. and since truths themselves are suspect­ed, when we know not the authors of them, I will name you those from whom I learnt them, as well to honor their merit, as to satisfie your minde.

And for feare you should take them for persons of mean condition, Unto whom alone the earth was given, and no stranger passed among them. I would have you know that their birth and their wisdome had advanced them to the administration of state, and that during their governments, our enemies never overran our land, nor wonne any advantage over us. The wick­ed man travel­lech with pain all his dayes, & the number of yeares is hid­den to the op­pressour.

Behold the Oracles which they have declared to man, and which I entreat you to heare with respect; The wicked Prince hath no more cruel executioner then his own ambition, or more sensi­ble displeasure then to know that he is mortall, and to be ignorant when his tyranny must end.

He thinks every hour that he heares the noyse of Trump­ets; A dread­full sound is in his eares; in prosperity the destroyer shall come upon when he injoyes peace he apprehends warte, and fears surprises from his enemies, or [Page 141]treasons from his friends.

When night obliges him to lye down, He belie­veth not that hee shall re­turne out of darknesse, and he is waited for of the sword. he never hopes to see the day, and his guilt r [...]pre­senting to him on all sides no­thing but naked swords, He beleeves, that they will assas­sine him in his bed. He wan­dereth abroad for bread, say­ing, Where is it? he know­eth that the day of darknes is ready at hand.

When he firs at the Table to take his repast, he imagines that his meats are poyson, and that he shal finde death, where he seeks for the conservation of his life.

He is alwayes in the same inquietude as a King who is going to give battail, Trouble and anguish shall make him afraid; they shall pre­vaile against him, as a King ready to bat­taile. and his state in the hands of for­tune and of his Souldiers.

Although these punish­ments be rigorous, he deser­ved more cruell ones, For he stretcheth out his hand a­gainst God, & strengtheneth himself against the Almighty. for he made warre against God, and by an insupportable inso­lence, he had gathered forces for to fight with him.

He marched against him without feare, He run­neth upon him even on his neck, upon the the thick bosses of his bucklers. and as if God might have easily been over­come, he bel [...]eved that the pride of his Troopes, and the pompe of his Armes were sufficient to defeat him.

Having conceived this con­tempt of God, Because he covereth his face with his fatnesse, & maketh collops of fat on his flank s. he had given himself to debaushes, where the fat had so swollen up his cheeks and his belly, that he had neither the stature, nor the visage of a man.

For punishment of so many crimes, And he dwelleth in desolate cities, and in houses which no man inhabiteth, which are rea­dy to become heaps. he shall see his estate ruined, and 10 secure his life he shall be constrained to re­tyre himself into forsaken Ci­ties, and to hide himself in the ruines, more proper to serve for a sepuichre for the dead, then a retreat for the living.

His extortions shall not in­rich him, He shall not be rich, neither shall his substance continue; nei­ther shall he prolong the perfection thereof upon the earth. for whatsoever care he takes to transport his trea­sures, he shall not preserve [Page 143]them, and his fortune shall resemble those trees, which not having taken strong root in the ground cannot resist the violence of the winds.

Feare and shame shall make him hide himself in darknesse, He shall not depart out of darknes, the flame shall dry up his branches, and by the breath of his mouth he shall go a­way. where after he hath seen his children dye, and the accom­plices of his crimes, he shall dye him self of displeasure, and by a just judgement of God, the same fire which shall burn the trunke of the tree, shall consume all its branches.

When they shall fore-tell him these misfortunes, Let not him that is deceived, trust in vanity: for vanity shall be his recom­p [...]nce. the blindnesse wherein he lives, shall not suffer him to beleeve them, and he shall not trou­ble himself to divert them by his prayers, nor redeem them by his almes. It shall be accomplished before his time, and his branch shall not be greene.

Finally he shall dye before his time; and he shall not at­taine that age, which nature hath made all honest men hope [Page 144]for, and his hands which exercised so many crueltyes shall wither before his death, as the most guilty parts of his body.

His losse shall be without resource, He shall shake off his unripe grape as the vine, & shall east off his flower as the Olive. and one must expect nothing from his fortune, no more then from the Olive­trees, or Vines which have been beaten down by the hayl, or striken by the frost, For the Congregation of hypocrites shall be deso­late, and fire shall consume the tabernacles of bribery. when they thrust forth their first blossomes. Neither must one hope that his riches will de­fend him from these disasters; for all the provisions which he had made, shall be wholly unprofitable, and Divine Ju­stice shall consume the proud houses which he had built at the expence of the poor who could not acquire his favours but by buying them with pre­sents. They con­ceive mischief, & bring forth vanity, and their belly pre­pareth deceit.

And surely he deserved all these punishments since the [Page 145]designs which he conceived, tended to nothing but the ruin of his subjects, since he sought nothing but occasions to exe­cute them, and that he im­ployed his minde but to finde artifices to deceive the inno­cent.

CHAP. XVI.

VVHen the discourse of Eliphaz was en­ded Job replyed in this manner. Then Job answered, and said,

You entertaine me with such common things, I have heard many such [...]hings: mise­rable comfor­ [...]ors are yee all. that you tyre my patience, and ob­lige me to tell you, that if you have a will to cure my evils, you have not the dexterity, and that your consolations are re­medies more hard to support, then my owne griefes.

Will you never end such vaine and picquant discour­ses, Shall vain words have an end? or what [...]mboldeneth thee that thou answerest? and learning the sweetnes of an afflicted man, which ne­ver used any injurious words, will you not seeke out some more civill ones to sweeten my displeasures?

If I had not rather follow my owne inclination then your example, I also could speake as you do: if your soul were in my souls stead, I could heape up words a­gainst you, and shake mine head at you. I might well [Page 147]use the same language; and if heaven had permitted that we might change conditions, it would be very easie to me to make you see, that the unhap­py are more sensible of no­thing then reproaches.

But as this proceeding is farre from my sweetnesse, But I would strengthen you with my mouth: and & the moving of my lips should asswage your grief. I farre from my sweetnesse, I would endeavour to finde words which might comfort you, and to do actions which might witnesse to the world how sensible I should be of your Displeasures. I should employ all my Eloquence for to fortifye you against sorrow; I should not open my mouth, but to asswage your evills, and I should serve my selfe with all the Addresse I had for to cure you without hurting you.

But since the order of things cannot be changed, Though I speake, my griefe is not asswaged: and [...]hough I for­bear, I am not cased. and that Heaven which will have you to be happy, will [Page 148]have me to be miserable, what can I doe to asswage my Griefe? for whither I speake or hold my Peace, it will be alwayes equall, and my complaints nor my silence will not be able to sweeten it.

Now as you heare me it oppresseth me so sensibly, But now he hath made me weary, thou hast made de­solate all my company. that me thinkes all my forces fayle me, and I am at the Vigil of returning into no­thing.

When I would conceale it, And thou hast filled me with wrinkles, which is a wit­nesse against me, and my leannesse ri­sing up in me, beareth witnes to my face. the wrinkles which ap­peare upon my face discover it but too much: but their reproaches trouble me not so much, as the calumnies of detractours who would take away my Honour with my life.

They have displayed all their rage against me, He teareth me in his wrath, who ha­teth me; he gnasheth upon me with his teath; mine e­nemy sharpe­neth his eyes upon me. and pa­ssion so much masters their senses, that it appeares in [Page 149]the terrible Casts of their eyes, in the grinning of their teeth, and those o­ther Gestures, which men make, when their anger turnes into fury.

They have opened their Mouth to caluminate my in nocence, They have gaped upon me with their mouth, they have smitten me upon the cheek reproch­fully, they have gathered them­selves together against me. and passing from injuries to violences, they have given me Boxes on the Eare, whose number cannot be counted, because they cease not till they were ty­red with striking, and wea­ry of making me so long suf­fer.

But nothing hath more afflicted me then when God to trye me Patience hath made me their Captive, God hath delivered me to the ungod­ly, and turned me over into the hands of the wicked. and to content their cruelty hath delivered me into their hands.

I can scarce know my selfe at last, I was at ease, but he hath broken me asunder, he hath also ta­ken me by the neck, and sha­ken me to pei­ces, and set me up for his mark when I com­pare the present with the [Page 150]past; for from an high and Eminent fortune I am fal­len into a profound misery: and God who will take from me the hope of rising again, hath broken me with Blowes, and chosen me for the Marke of all his thun­ders.

It seemes that he is a Huntsman, His arch­ers compasse me round a­bout, he clea­veth my reines asunder, and doth not spare; he poureth out my gall upon the ground. and that I am a furious Beast; for where e­ver I goe I finde my selfe en­vironed with his Armes, he teares my sides and rends out my Bowels, and scat­ters them upon the earth to serve as Meate for the Doggs.

I have not part of my Body, He break­eth me with breach upon breach, he run­neth upon me like a Gyant. but is covered with wounds; he stayes not till the old ones are closed, to make new ones, and both of them are so strange to looke upon, that you would judge it the hand of a Gyant which [Page 151]hath made them.

To appease his fury I have done all the actions of a Pe­nitent; I have sowed sack­cloth upon my skin, and defi­led my horne in the dust. I have clothed my Body with haire, I have changed the pompe of my habit into the austerity of sack-cloth, and instead of that Crowne which served as an Ornament for my Head, I have covered it with ashes. My face is foule with weeping, and on my eye­lids is the sha­dow of death:

I have shed so many teares that my face is puffed up with it, that my eyes infeebled have lost all their vigour, and can no more discerne the Objects which present themselves.

But I can say with assu­rance, Not for any injustice in my hands: also my prayer is pure. that I have suffered all these evills without de­serving them, and that they are come most commonly upon me, when to dis­charge my Duty I offered my prayers to God, which [Page 152]might have beene agreable to him, since they were ac­companied with purity.

If I disguise the truth, O earth' cover not thou my bloud, and let my cry have no place. may the Earth deny my bo­dy Sepulture, and may men more insensible then Rockes never lend an eare to my compsaint. Also now, behold, my witnesse is in heaven, and my record is on high.

But without having need of making Imprecations, I have a faithfull witnesse in the Heavens who knowing all my thoughts will not suf­fer my Innocence to be op­prest.

Likewise I must confesse to you, My friends scorne me: but mine eye pou­reth out teares unto God. when the injuri­ous words of my treache­rous Friends renew my Griefes, I implore his mer­cy, and employ my Teares to make him favourable to me.

As I am affored of his Justice, O that men might pleade for a man with God, as a man plead­eth for his neighbout! and the goodnesse of my cause, there nothing [Page 153]remaines to wish, but that it were permitted me to treat with God as they treat with men, and to defend my selfe before him as they defend themselves before a mortall Judge.

But I am afraid least Death prevent the Accom­plishment of my Desires, When a few yeares are come, then I shall go the way whence I shall not re­turne. and least my life end, before his justice absolve me; for I have passed the best part of my yeares, and finde my selfe ingaged in a Carriere where one can runne but once,

CHAP. XVII.

THe force of my minde growes weake, My breath is corrupt, my dayes are ex­tinct, the graves are rea­dy for me. The number of my dayes dimi­nishes, and in the middest of so many misfortunes which encompasse mee, no­thing is left me to hope for but the Grave.

My conscience assures me that I am more unhappy then guilty, Are there not mockers with me? and doth not mine eye continue in their provo­cation? and notwith­standing my eyes are drown­ed with Teares, and it seems [Page 155]by the use I make of them, that nature hath not given me them but to weep.

Lord, Lay downe now, put me in a surety with thee; who is he that will strike hands with me? put an end to so many miseries, or if it be your will that they yet en­dure, take me into your protection, and by the fa­vour of so good a sanctua­ry I permit mine enemies to denounce warre against me.

The ignorance wherein they live, For thou hast hid their heart from un­derstanding: therefore shall thou not exal [...] them. and the little care which they take to observe your Lawes, makes me hope that you will take my part, and that they shall have no advantage over me.

They regard me (though) as a prey which cannot es­cape them, He that speaketh flat­tery to his friends, even the eyes of his children shall faile. and they pro­mise their Allyes, that they shall enrich themselves at my expence; But their Hopes shall be vaine, and [Page 156]their eyes shall never see the successe of their unjust desires.

They make me the Fa­ble of all Companies, He hath made me also a by-word of the people and aforetime I was as a tabret. and they never speak of the pu­bishment of the wicked but they alledge me for Ex­ample.

The just resentment which I have of their ca­lumny, Mine eye also is dimme by reason of sorrow, and all my members are as a shadow darkens mine eyes that they cannot leade mee, and all the parts of my body being enfeebled cannot serve me.

Finally, Upright men shall be astonied at this, and the innocent shall stir up him­selfe against the hypocrite. the persecution which I suffer is so furious that good men cannot think on it but their minde is strucke with amazement, and their Heart seized with indignation against th [...]se Traytours who were the canse of it.

But this is so far from hin­dering them to persevere in [Page 157]vertue, The righ­t [...]o a [...] on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger and, stronger. that on the contra­ry animated by my example they will adde Courage to their Piety, and doe with pleasure what they did before with paine.

Change then your opi­nions, But as for you all, doe you returne, and come now; for I cannot finde one wife man among you. you that thinke that I am punished for my crimes; or if you will persist in that errour, take it not [...]ll that I condemne your thoughts, and that I publish abroade that passion hath made you loose your Judgement.

But I have entertained you long enough, My dayes are past, my purposes are broken off, e­ven the thoughts of my heart. it is time to lend words to my sor­row, and to begin my com­plaints againe; but my life passeth away, and my death approacheth; my minde is disquieted, and if it wander sometime in its Thoughts, it is not to divert but to a­fflict it selfe.

All things displease it [Page 158]equally; They change the night into day: the light is short, because of darknesse. it would have night day, and when the day is come it yet wishes Night and ima­gines that it will sweeten its displeasures. But as it sees that both of them afflict it, it sighs after that night which hath no end, If I wait, the grave is mine house: I have made my bed in the darknesse; and promiseth it self that it shall finde rest in that bed, from which they never rise againe.

In these thoughts I make allyance with death, I have said to corrup­tion, thou art my father: to the worme, thou art my mother, and my sister. and to testifie to Rottennesse and the wormes, how I love them, I imploy the sweetest names which nature teaches us, and call them my Father, my Mo­ther, and my sisters.

And how would you have me place my hope elsewhere, And where is now my hope? as for my hope, who shall see it? since there is no one to be found who considers my mi­series, and who gives my Patience the Prayses it de­serves? They shall goe down to the bars of the pit, when our rest toge­ther is in the grave.

But if I could once dye, all [Page 159]my miseries should dye with me, and having no more feare nor hope, I should enjoy the felicity which I search for, & which with all my diligence I could never finde.

CHAP. XVIII.

BIldad then spoke for his Friends, and said to Job; Then an­swered Bildad the Shuhite, & said.

Will you never give over speaking with so much pee­vishnesse, How long will it be ere thou make an end of thy words? marke, and af­terwards we will speake. and will you never heare our reasens to engage us to heare yours?

It is injustice to treat men like beasts, Wherefore are we counted as beasts, and reputed vile in your sight? and to despise discourses, which for wanting politenesse and ornament, do not want reasons, nor truth.

But this fault ought to be pardoned you, He teareth himselfe in his anger: shall the earth be forsaken for the [...]? and shall the rocke be removed out of his place? since letting your selfe be carryed away by the fury which possesseth you, you imagine that the earth shall be forsaken when you dye, and that the mountains shall change their place, if you change your condition.

Do no you know that the prosperity of the wicked dis­perseth it selfe as soone as it appeares, Yea, the light of the wicked shall be put out, and the sparke of his fire shall not shine. and that if fortune have l [...]st [...]e, she hath no con­tinuance?

The glory [...]f his house shall [...]e darkened, The light shall be darke in his taberna­cle, and his candle shall be put out with him. and if any con­jectures [Page 161]abuse me not, his pompe shall become mourn­full, and the lamps which glistered over his head during the pride of his feasts, shall give no more light, or if they give any it shall be but to shine upon his tombe. The steps of his strength shall be strait­ned, and his owne councell shall cast him down.

He shall loose his courage in the midst of his enterpri­ses, and his counsell shall serve but to advance his overthrow, and precipitate him into misery.

His indiscretion, For he is cast into a net by his own feet, and he walketh upon a snate. and Divine justice shall make him fall into snares which he had prepared for the innocent, and when he shal labour to get out, he shall entangle himselfe further in.

His feet shall be stopt in the net, The grin shall take him by the heele, and the robber shall prevail a­gainst him. and the paines which he shall take to disingage him­self, shall cause an unsup­portable thirst, whose hear shall no lesse torment him, then the losse of his liberty.

But nothing shall afflict him so much as to have beene surprized in encounters, The snare is laid for him in the ground, and a trap for him in the way. where he apprehended no­thing, and that he could not tell how with his wisedome to avoid the misfortune which was prepared for him. Terrors shall make him affraid on eve­ry side, and shall drive him to his feet.

A thousand Panique feares shall astonish him, and ha­ving no more judgement, he shall ingage himselfe so for­ward in danger, that as if his feet were uselesse to him, he shall not be able to retire.

Hunger that horrid Mon­ster, His strength shall be hunger bit­ten, and de­struction shall be ready at his side. which feeds upon our miseries, and which is never more vigorous then when we are languishing, shall pos­sesse it selfe of his Heart, and devouring his intrailes shall take from him that Vigour which made him sub­sist.

At the first Assault the freshnesse of his skinne shall [Page 163]fade, It shal de­vour the strength of his skin: even the first borne of death shall de­vour his strength. and after long langui­shing, he shall end his life by a strange Death which shall be famed amongst the most violent.

His Family shall runne the same fortune as his per­son; His con­fidence shall be rooted our of his taberna­cle, and it shall bring him to the King of terrours. his children which were the best part of his hopes shall perish with him. Death shall make it selfe a Trophy of their bodyes, and like a Victorious King take plea­sure to trample them under his feet.

The Accomplices of his crimes shall be Compani­ons of his punishment, It shall dwell in his tabernacle, be­cause it is none of his: brim­stone shall be scattered upon his habitation. and he who is exempted, shall be drowned in a shower of Sulphur, and Flames.

Finally it shall be with his fortune, His roots shall be dryed up beneath, and above shail his branch be cut off. as with those treees, whom the thunder hath beaten down on all sides, and whose roots it hath burnt, whose branches [Page 164]it hath broken, and whose Trunke it hath reduced to powder.

His memory shall be de­faced from the earth, His re­membrance shall perish from the earth, and hee shall have no name in the street. and they shall never speake of his name in Assemblies nor publick places.

God himselfe to contribute to his misery shall make him passe from brightnesse to ob­scurity, He shall be driven from light into darkenesse, and chased out of the world. from esteem to con­tempt, and his reputation as well as his person shall be banished the earth. He shall neither have son or nephew among his people, nor a­ny remaining in his dwel­lings.

He shall leave no children to succeed him in his estate, and his posterity perishing with him, there shall be no one to make him live after his Death.

In the day of his misfor­tune the astonishment shall be generall, They that come af­ter him shall be astonished at his day, as they that went before were affrighted. and the great as well as the small finding where­withall to be astonished, shall be equally seized with [Page 165]Horrour.

Since these misfortunes are the inheritance of the wicked, Surely such are the dwel­lings of the wicked, and this is the place of him that knows not God. and that those who forget God are punished in this manner, take heed least the paines which you suffer be not proofes of your crimes, and that you be not unhappy because you are guilty.

CHAP. XIX.

IOb wearied with so many calumnies, Then Job answered and said. wherwith his unfaithfull friends would discolour his innocence, an­swered them,

Will you never give over afflicting my minde, How long will you vex my soule, and breake me in peices with words? and ex­ercising my patience by words which are more insup­portable to me, then the torments which I endure.

They are so insolent, that they have made me blush a hundred times; These ten times have ye reproached me: you are not a­shamed that you make your selves strange to me. and th [...] which angers me most is that they continue, and that th [...] shame of oppressing one th [...] is innocent hath not had th [...] power to make you leave them of.

If I have failed out of igno­rance, And be it indeed, that I have erred, mine errour remaineth with my selfe. the cause of my s [...] shall be my excuse; if I have failed out of malice, I on­ly [Page 167]will undergoe the punish­ment of my offence; & Divine justice which can well dis­cerne the guilty from the inno­cent, shall not punish you with me.

Notwithstanding as if I were the cause of all your mis­fortunes, If indeed you will mag­nifie your selves against mee, and plead against me my reproach: I am the subject of all your calumnies: you op­pose my misery to my vertue, and you will perswade all the world that I am guilty, be­cause I am miserable.

Learn now at least that God doth not an action of a Judge when he afflicts me, Know now, that God hath overthrowne me, and hath compassed me with his net. and that when he persecutes me, he hath more desire to make his soveraignty appeare then his justice.

Who will not be of this o­pinion, Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud, but there is no judgment. if he consider that I suffer without a cause, that I complaine with reason, and that I cannot finde a friend to comfort me, an Advocate [Page 168]to defend me, nor a Judge to absolve me?

It seems God delights in ingaging me in evils, He hath en [...]ed up my way, that I cannot pass [...], & he hath set darknesse in my paths. of which I can finde no end, and that he hath a designe to overcast my mind with darknes, to the end that I may suffer sorrow and that I may not finde a remedy.

He has despoyled me of that lustre which environs Kings, He hath stript me of myglory and taken the crowne from my head. he hath taken the Crowne from my head, and giving the guilty an innocent man for example; of a puissant Prince, he hath made a mise­rable Slave.

He hath so ruined my for­tune, He hath destroyed me on every side and I am gone and mine hope hath hee removed like a tree. that there is none can reestablish it, and treating me like those trees which the violence of the winds pulls up by the roots, he hath not left me so much as Hope which is the last comfort of the aflicted.

Anger, He hath also kindled his wrath a­gainst me, and he counteth me unto him; as one of his enemies. which animated him against me, hath made him forget that I was the worke of his hands, and my misfortune hath perswaded him that I was his enemy.

In these thoughts he hath commanded his Souldiers to assault me, His troups come together, and raise up their way a­gainst me, and encamp round about my ra­bernacle. and as his Orders are alwayes followed, they have entred upon my Lands, where after having done a thousand spoyles, they have besieged my house, and made themselves masters of it.

I thought that in this dis­aster my neighbours would comfort me; He hath put my bre­thren far from me, & mine ac­quaintance are verily estran­ged from me. but whether the greatnesse of my evill hath astonished them, or the justice of God scattered them, they have kept farre from me, as if they had been strangers.

Those with whom nature had tyed me, My kins­folk have vail­ed, and my fa­miliar friends have forgotten me. have most base­ly abandoned me, and those [Page 170]with whom amity, more strong than nature, had straitly united me, have most unjustly forgotten me.

My Domestiques themselves have lost the respect which they owed me, They that dwell in mine house, and my maids, count me for a stran­ger: I am an a­liant in their sight. and when since my misfortune they ap­peared before me, they seem­ed to speake as if they had never knowne me.

When I called the slaves which owed me their liber­ty, I called my servant, & he gave me no answer: I en­treated him with my mouth they would not daigne to answer me, and they them­selves, who heretofore knew not my intentions but by the mouth of another, have de­spised the prayers which came out of mine owne.

It is no wonder if that sort of people who love not but for interest have forgotten me, My breath is strange to my wife, though I en­treated for the childrens sake of mine owne body. when mine owne wife can­not endure me, but the stink­ing of my breath drives her [Page 171]away; and when my prayers, mixt with teares and sighs, cannot stay the children which my other wives have given me.

Finally, my misery is ar­rived to this point, Yea, young children despi­sed me, I arose, and they spake against me. that fooles which make men sport mock at me; present and ab­sent I am the subject of their laughter, and they never are found more pleasant than when they play the Buffoones at my expence.

I pardon their folly this insolence, All my inward friends abhorred me [...] and they whom I loved, are turned against me. but I cannot en­dure that those wise men, of whom heretofore I tooke counsell, and who received my advice as Oracles, should be afraid of my person; and that he who amongst them was most obliged to me, is now the most ingrate­full.

These evils, My bones cleaveth to my skin, and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth. as rigorous as [Page 172]they are, would seeme sup­portable to me, if I felt no other in my body, which are so much the more sensible to me, as they are more true: But the Fever which devoures me hath consumed my flesh; the skin which covered it, is fastned to my bones, and the fury of that evill which disfigures all my face, hath left me nothing but the lips about the teeth to form words and complaints.

At the sight of so many evils be touched with pitty; Have pit­ty upon me, have pitty up­on me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath tou­ched me. and you who make profession of loving me, have compassi­on of my griefes, because their excesse makes you see that it is an incensed God which is the Author of them.

Why doe you agree with him to persecute me, Why do you persecute me as God, and are not satis­fied with my flesh? and why imitating the cruelty of Sa­vage Beasts which live upon [Page 173]mans flesh, do you feed your selves with my miseries?

Where is the man that will lend me his hand to write the Regrets of my mouth; Oh that my words were now written, Oh that they were printed in a book! and who will be the Engravor to carve them upon lead, or in­grave them in marble to in­forme Posterity? That they were graven with an iron pen and lead, in the rock for ever!

These wishes do no injury to my hopes, for with what­soever tearmes I serve my griefe, For I know that my Redeemer li­veth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth. I know that he from whom I expect my salvation, is living, and that after he hath tryed my patience, he will bring me out of that misera­ble condition to which I am reduced.

And I may well believe it, And though after my skin, worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God. since faith perswades me that I must rise againe after my death, that my bones shall once againe be clothed with flesh, that in my owne body I shall see the God which I adore, and heare from his [Page 174]mouth a sentence favourable to my innocence,

With what reasons soever they combate my beliefe, Whom I shall see for my selfe, and mine eyes shal behold, and not another, shough my reins be con­sumed within me. I hold assuredly that his good­nesse having obliged him to make himself man, my eyes shall finde their happinesse in his body, that in spight of death, which shall have de­stroyed me, I shall live again, that changed in condition on­ly, and not in nature, I shall see my God in his glory: And this hope which I conserve in my soule, is the onely conso­lation which I receive in my displeasures.

If you are of the same opi­nion why doe you prosecute me? But ye should say, Why perse­cute ye him, seeing the root of the matter is found in me? and if you believe that heaven will one day crowne my patience, why doe you forge calumnies to oppresse my innocence?

Change your designe then, Be ye fraid of the sword: for wrath bring­eth the punish­ments of the sword, that ye may know that there is a judg­ment. profit by the advice which I [Page 175]give you, fly that revenging sword, which leaves not sins unpunished: and to entertaine your selfe in this good resolu­tion, remember that God will be our Common Judge, and that our differences shall be determined in his presence.

CHAP. XX.

SOphar, Then an­swered Zophar the Naama­ [...]hite, and said, who would take advantage of the last words of Job, sayed to him:

The conclusion of your dis­course hath given me a thou­sand thoughts, There­fore doe my thoughts cause me to answer, and for this I make haste. and my soule troubled with their number knowes not which to chuse.

The reproaches which you use to me, I have heard the check of my reproach, and the spirit of my understan­ding causeth me to answer. will furnish me with [Page 177]an ample subject of discourse; but as in this conference I seeke nothing but to draw you from your errour, I will not reply to the injuries which my conscience and reason as­sure me are not true.

I will onely tell you then that in your disgrace there is nothing extraordinary: Knowest thou not this of old, since man was pla­ced upon earth that every one knows that the glo­ry of a wicked man is not of continuance, That the triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of the hy­pocrite but for a moment? and that mo­ments are not shorter than the prosperity of a sinner.

Though his pride should mount up to heaven, Though his excellency mount up to the heavens, and his head reach unto the clouds. though he should beare his head in the clouds, and that men, to content his vanity, should ac­cord him divine honours.

Yet all his glory shall turne into smoake, that deceit [...]u [...] lustre, which dazled eyes, Yet he shall perish for ever, like his owne dung; they which have seen him shall say, Where is he? shall disperse like dust which the winde carryes away: those who admired his greatnesse, [Page 178]shall be amazed at his fall, and not able to believe it after they have seene it, shall aske what is become of him.

It shall be with his happi­nesse, He shall flie away as a dream, and shall not bee sound: yea he shall be chased away as a visi­on of the night as with dreames, which when we awake, we cannot remember; and his prosperity shall passe by like Ghosts, which go away with the night, and of which there re­maines in the morning but a confused remembrance.

Those who looked upon him with envy, The eye also which saw him, shall see him no more; neither shall his place any more behold him. shall no more looke upon him but with pit­ty, and his Domestiques, the eye-witnesses of his vanity, shall see him no more but with contempt.

And because a father is more sensible in the person of his children, His chil­dren shall seek to please the poore, and his hands shall restore their goods. than in his own, they whom he hath brought into the world shall be redu­ced to extremity, and Divine Justice shall ruine them to re­venge [Page 179]the Orphans which their Fathers had oppressed.

But the most rigorous of his punishments is, His bones are full of the sinne of his youth, which shall lye down with him in the dust. that he shall retaine his bad inclinations till death, that he shall not lose the desire of doing evill, when he shall have lost the po­wer, and that he shall carry away his bad habitudes with him into the grave.

For as those who eat any thing that is agreeable, Though wickednesse be sweet in his mouth, though he hide it un­der his tongue re­taine it a long time in their mouth, for to taste it with more pleasure.

So he shall keepe his sinne as long as he can, Though he spare it, and forsake it not, but keep it still withing his mouth: and if sometimes he let it go in ap­pearance, he shall retaine the desire of it in his heart,

Notwithstanding he consi­ders not, that that which hath given him joy, shall cause his sorrow, and that if sin flatter our senses, it poysoneth out soules,

But in as much as sinners feare not much what they do not believe, Yet his meat in his bowels is tur­ned, it is the gall of asps within him. and that hell en­ters not into their minds but as a fable, God will make him feele the paynes of it, for his goods shal be taken from him, and they shall compell him to restore with sorrow, what he had taken with pleasure.

He shall finde that the ve­nome of aspes is not so mor­tall to those whom they hurt, He hath swallowed downe riches, and he shall vomit them up againe: God shall cast them out of his belly as the goods of the poore to those who take them away; and that the tongue of Vipers is not so dangerous a poyson as riches ill gotten. He shall suck the poy­son of asps: the vipers tongue shall slay him.

With what hope soever he flatters himselfe, he shall injoy none of his goods; for after that he shall have made great purchases, He shall not see the ri­vers, the floods, the brooks of honey and but­ter. that his flocks shall be increased, either by his hus­bandry, or by his usury, that his Kine shall give him streams of milke, and his Bees shall [Page 181]give him rivers of honey, he shall have but the trouble of it, and another shall receive the profit: He shall beare the chastisement of all the evill which he hath committed, and though his griefes teach him that he is mortall, yet he shall not be able to die: Hea­ven shall prolong his yeares, that he may suffer all the mi­series which his injurious ma­lice hath made the innocent indure.

Because he hath ruined the poore, pillaged their houses, That which he la­boured for, shall he re­store, and shall not swallow it down: accor­ding to his substance shall the restiruti­on be, and he shall not re­joyce therein. and hath not taken the paines to build them againe after he hath pulled them downe.

Because his unjust desires have had no bounds, and be­cause his heart, after so many pillages, hath not been satisfi­ed; God, who proportions punishments to our crimes, Because he hath op­pressed, & hath forsaken the poor; because he hath vio­lently taken away an house which he buil­ded not. will not permit him peace­ably to possesse what he hath [Page 182]so unhappily acquired.

And fince in his good for­tune he hath not given to the poore what was superfluous with him, he shall not have in his disgrace what is ne­cessary.

But by a more strange kinde of punishment he shall finde poverty in abundance, Surely he shall not feel quietnesse in his belly, he shall not save of that which he desi­red. for whether his avarice oblige him to forme new desires; or to wish more wealth, or that it permits him not to employ that which he hath in his cof­fers, he shall prove that of all kindes of poverty the most troublesome is that which sur­priseth us in the middest of riches.

And seeing that he cannot avoid being miserable in feli­city it selfe, There shall none of his meat be left, therefore shall no man look for his goods. there shall be no sorrow wherewith his minde is not afflicted.

Since his good fortune must be so fatall to him, In the fulnesse of his sufficiency he shall be in straits: every hand of the wicked shall come upon him. and that [Page 183]he shall be never neerer his ruine, than when he is moun­ted on the top of his happi­nesse, I would he were happy, that he might be presently mi­serable, and that heaven might discharge upon him its anger, and stick him with all its thunders.

I know well that he will do all his endeavours to avoid his mis-fortunes, When he is about to fill his belly, God shall cast the fury of his wrath upon him, and shall rain it upon him while he is eating. and that he will imploy all his tricks to divert the disastre which hangs over his head; But his endeavours and his tricks shal be equally unprofitable, and they shall prepare him so ma­ny evils, that if he escape some, He shall flee from the iron weapon; and the bow of steel shall strike him through. he shall not warrant himselfe from others; for he shall see on one fide the sword drawne out of the scabbard, and glit­tering like lightening, which shall menace him with death; and on the other, he shall see the Devils (whom Divine Ju­stice [Page 184]imployes to revenge it self upon our injuries) who shall wait with impatience for to conduct him to punish­ment.

In so pressing a mis-fortune he shall look for some retreat, It is drawn and co­meth out of the body: yea, the glistring sword cometh out of his gall: terrours are upon him. but shall finde none, and those hidden places, which serve as Sanctuaries to the unhappy, being shut against him, he shall be constrained to precipitate himself into hell, All dark­nesse shall be hid in his se­cret places: a fire not blown shall consume him: it shall go ill with him that is left in his tabernacle. where that fire which hath no need of winde to light it, nor of mat­ter to feede it, shall burne eter­nally; and for the accomplish­ment of his misery, the chil­dren which he shall leave in his house shall undergoe the punishment of his sinne.

Then all the Creatures which are subject to the vani­ty of men, The hea­ven shal reveal his iniquity: and the earth shall rise up against him. and which against their inclination served their iniquities, shall make Warre upon him; heaven shall make [Page 185]his crimes publique, and the earth which hath seene them shall depose against him.

When these faithfull wit­nesses shall have made seene to all the world by what waies this impious man had acquired his riches, The in­crease of his house shal de­part, and his goods shal flow away in the day of his wrath. God shall pronounce his sentence upon their depostions, and giving up his house to pillage, shall permit his enemies to enrich themselves with his goods.

So all men shall learne from his fall, This is the portion of a wicked man from God, and the heritage appointed un­to him by God. that a bad life cannot have a good end; that hell is the portion of the wicked; and that as vertue promiseth it selfe recompence, sinne must expect punishments.

CHAP. XXI.

JOB perceived well that Sophaz had represented him under the person of a sinner, But Job answered and said, and that his friends approved his opinion, wherefore he replyed to them in these tearmes.

With whatsoever reasons you endeavour to support your discourse, Hear di­ligently my speech, and let this be your consolations. I perswade my selfe that if you will but hear­ken to mine, you will change [Page 187]your Opinion, and that at last you will be sorry that you have accused an Innocent.

I know that every thing displeaseth you in my person, Suffer me that I may speak, and af­ter that I have spoken, mock on. and that heaven which would make me odious, hath also made my discourse insupport­able; But make a triall upon your minde to heare me, and when I have deduced my rea­sons, if they please you not, I give you leave to laugh at me.

Observe then, As for me, is my com­plaint to man? and if it were so, why should not my spirit be troubled? that it is not with you so much as with God, that I dispute, and that I complaine more of his ri­gour than of yours; for if you have an ill opinion of mine innocence, my afflictions serve as an excuse for your suspitions: But God who reades my heart, cannot be ignorant of it; and when I thinke that he doth not take the paines to make you know [Page 188]it, methinks I have cause to complaine of it.

Since he will not give me this satisfaction, Mark me, and be astoni­shed, and lay your hand up­on your mouth and that he hath resolved that my evils should be publique and my innocence hidden, looke upon me at least, but without inga­ging your selves to comfort or to bemoane me; put your fin­ger upon your mouth, and te­stifie your trouble and your love, but by your astonishment and your silence.

For my part, Even when I remember, I am afraid, and trembling ta­keth hold on my flesh. I cannot en­tertaine my self with my mis­fortunes but I tremble, and though they say that the me­mory of past evils is agreeable, mine are so violent, that I can­not thinke of them without extreme sorrow: And all the while that my minde enter­taines it selfe with this fatall subject, all the parts of my body shake with horrour.

Where­fore doe the wicked live, become old, yea, are migh­ty in power? Yet so miserable a conditi­on [Page 189]ought not prejudice my innocence, for if my disgrace were a cause of my sin, the pro­sperity of the wicked would be a marke of their vertue, and we should be obliged to be­lieve that all those who are happy are innocent; yet we see that sinners live long, and that honours are not wanting to their ambition, nor riches to their avarice.

Their family is alwaies nu­merous, Their seed is established in their sight with them, and their off-spring before their eyes. and heaven which gives them children, takes the care of preserving them, that they may injoy them long, inasmuch as in few yeers they make many alliances, and see issue from their daughters a long traine of children.

Their houses enjoy a pro­found rest, Their hou­ses are safe from fear, nei­ther is the rod of God upon them. there is no acci­dent that may trouble them, and with what sinne soever they offend the goodnesse of God, Their bull gendereth & faileth not, their cow cal­veth, and cast­eth not her calf. his justice never punishes [Page 190]them; the cares of his provi­dence extend themselves even over their flocks, for their Kine never miscarry when they are happily delivered: there arrives no misfortunes to their young ones, and heaven gives them milke in abundance to nourish them.

But without standing to de­scribe so ordinary a thing. They send forth their lit­tle ones like a flock, and their children dance I will represent you the fruitful­nesse of their wives, which is so great, that their children equall their flocks in number, and skip about their houses like young lambs in the fields.

They can scarce go but they set them to dance, They take the timbrell and harp, and rejoyce at the sound of the organ. their tongue is not yet untyed when they teach them to sing, and as if their life were a perpetuall Revels, Vials, and Lutes, are heard every day in their houses.

They passe away their years so pleasantly, They spend their days in wealth and in a mo­ment go down to the grave. and when the [Page 191]time of dying is come, and that sicknesse takes them out of the world, they languish not long in a bed, but descend quietly and suddenly into the grave.

Notwithstanding one can­not say it is their piety that brought these blessings upon them, There­fore they say unto God, De­part from us, for we desire not the know­ledge of thy wayes. for as long as they li­ved with us they boldly pro­fessed that they would have no part with God, and that his Lawes being indifferent to them, they were not resolved to take the paines to keepe them.

They made a show of be­ing ignorant that there was a God, What is the Almighty, that we should serve him? and what profit should we have if we pray unto him? that they might not be obliged to serve him; and to dispense with themselves from praying to him, they perswa­ded themselves that he did not watch over our actions, and that he had abandoned to an imaginary Destiny the conduct of the Universe.

Thinke not though that I am of their party if I describe their happinesse, Lo, their good is not in their hand, the counsel of the wicked is farre from me. for I know that that of the wicked though it be durable is not eternall, and whatsoever as­surance they shew, they are not Masters of their fortunes; wherefore their sentiments have beene alwaies contra­ry to mine, and our manner of living hath not been lesse different than our opinions.

I am of accord with you, How oft is the candle of the wicked put out? and how oft com­meth their de­struction upon them? God di­stributeth sor­rows in his an­ger. that their prosperity hath no lustre, which is not deceit­full; that the sorrowes which succeed their pleasures shall make no lesse spoyle in their souls than the Torrents in the fields.

And that they shall not be forgotten in that fatall day, They are as stubble be­fore the winde, & as chaff that the storm car­rieth away. when the hand of God, which cannot commit injustice, shall distribute punishment accor­ding to desert.

In the presence of that ter­rible Judge whom they can neither frighten nor corrupt, God lay­eth up his ini­quity for his children: he re­wardeth him, and he shall know it. it shall be with those wicked men, as with the straw which the winde plays with, or as the dust which the whirle-winde carries not into the Ayre but to disperse and scatter it.

Finally, His eyes shall fee his destruction, & he shall drink of the wrath of the Almigh­ty. their punishment shall not stop in them, but shall passe even to their Chil­dren, who shall be unhappy for having had guilty fathers, and when they shall see their sinne punished in their succes­sours, they shall prove to their cost, that God takes no­tice of all that passes in the world, and if he dissemble our offences he is not igno­rant of them.

Besides this punishment, For what pleasure hath he in his house after him, whē the number of his months is cut off in the midst? they shall suffer extreame tor­ments in their persons, death shall be alwaies present be­fore their eyes, and although [Page 194]they try its cruelties they shall not feele its favours, and shall drink great draughts in this cup of bitternesse and fury which God prepares for his enemies.

One must confesse that their punishment would be too gen­tle if they were punished but in their successors; Shall a­ny teach God knowledge? seeing he judg­eth those that are high. for when men are dead, the condition of their house gives them but little trouble; and 'tis not their greatest paine to know that Divine Justice hath con­tracted the life of their chil­dren, and taken them out of the world in the midst of their yeares.

Out of all this discourse it is easie for me to conclude, One di­eth in his full strength, being wholly at ease and quiet. that there are no certaine markes to discerne the good from the bad, since it happens some­times, that two guilty men are treated differently, and that two just men who are equall [Page 195]in merit, are not so in fortune.

Therefore we must adore that conduct, His brests are full of milk, and his bones are moi­stened with marrow. & without mur­muring submit our selves to the Ordinance of God, for men were insolent if they would instruct him who tea­ches the Angels.

Let's reverence then his pro­vidence, And a­nother dieth in the bitter­nesse of his soul, and never eateth with pleasure. when we see that a sinner hath no disgrace whiles he is in the world, that his happinesse is constant, that riches and health accompany him to the grave, that his bo­dy is of a strong constitution, and that that vigour which makes youth acceptable, leaves him not in his very age.

But let us adore his Justice, They shal lie down alike in the dust, and the worms shal cover them. when we see another man who is not it may be so guil­ty, passe his yeares in sorrows, count his dayes by his afflicti­ons, and dye as poore as he was borne.

Finally, Behold, I know your thoughts, and the devices which yee wrongfully i­magine against me. let us not mur­mure, when we see that two lives different shall have the same end, that the rich and the poore shall be both cove­red with earth, and that the worms who have no regard to our conditions, shall spare a happy man no more than a miserable.

I have not so little wit, For ye say, Where is the house of the prince? and where are the dwelling pla­ces of the wic­ked? but I reade in your face the thoughts which you revolve in your heart; I know that you accuse me whilest I pleade for God, and that you con­demne mine innocence whilest I defend his Justice.

For drawing a bad conclu­sion from a bad principle, Have ye not asked them that go by the way? and do not ye know their tokens? you say it is necessary that I should be guilty, because I am so un­happy, and that God had ne­ver suffered my flocks to be ta­ken away, my palaces to be overthrowne, and my chil­dren to be buried under their [Page 197]ruines, if by some notable im­piety I had not ingaged his justice to punish me.

But you argue so ill in this occasion that there is no one but condemnes you, That the wicked is re­served to the day of destru­ction; they shal bee brought forth to the day of wrath. and if without making choyce of a Judge you will aske the first Passenger which you finde; I assure my self that his an­swers will make you see that upon the subject of which we dispute, he hath no other sen­timents than mine.

And certainly they are very just, Who shal declare his way to his face? and who shal repay him what he hath done? and 'tis with much rea­son that I maintaine, that sin­ners are not alwayes punished for their crimes, for the earth hath no punishments rigorous enough to chastize them; and heaven does well to reserve them for the day of its fury, and to deferre their punish­ment to render it eternall.

The instruments which he useth here, Yet shall he be brought to the grave, and shall re­maine in the tomb. are too feeble for [Page 198]to tame them; for if he had a desire to chastize theie sinnes, there could no man be found hardy enough to undertake it; and if he had a designe to ruine them, there could none be found puissant enough to execute it.

Do not you see that they reverence them after their death, The clods of the valley shall be sweet unto him, and every man shal draw after him, as there are innumera­ble before him that they oblige nature to weare mourning for them, that they condemne the Ele­ments to weepe for them, that they carry them with pompe to the grave, that they embalme their bodies to pre­serve them a long time, and that in spight of death they defend them from corruption?

Those who flatter them du­ring their life, continuing it after their death, indeavour to perswade men that the earth respects their bodies, that the graves are proud of possessing them, and that that fabulous [Page 199]hell of profane men is happy to lodge their Ghosts, and that all those that go before or fol­low them into those sad pla­ces, come not there but to have the honour to be with them.

Since it is certaine then that the wicked are not alwayes miserable, How then comfort ye me in vain, seeing in your an­swers there re­mainetb fals­hood. and that experi­ence contradicts the reasons wherewith you defend your opinion, do not you take a wrong course to comfort me, when you would perswade me that I am guilty because I am afflicted: And might not you rather conclude that all the unfortunate are not wicked, because all the wicked are not unfortunate?

CHAP. XXII.

AS they could not reply to such good reasons, Then E­liphaz the Te­manite answe­red and said, Eliphaz, who disputed not so much for truth as for glo­ry, had recourse to invectives, and without any more pallia­ting his designe, undertooke openly to make Job confesse that he was a famous Male­factour.

We know, saith he, that a [Page 201]man were insolent, who would be equall with God, and who serving himself with the light which he could not have borrowed but from him, would reforme his Pro­vidence, and oblige him by his reasons to use another kinde of conduct over men.

But certainly you are no lesse rash to perswade your selfe, Can a man be profitable unto God, as he that is wise may be prosi­table unto him­self? that he is interested in your innocence, and that to make it publike, he is obliged to do a miracle; what profit can he hope from your vertue, who possesseth all in himselfe, and what honour can he ex­pect thence, whose glory is infinite?

Thinke not that he is like those Judges, Is it any pleasure to the Almighty, that thou art righ­teous? [...] gaine [...] that [...] ma­kest thy wayers perfect. whom feare makes to change their resolu­tion, and who da [...]e not con­de [...]ne one that i [...]guilty, for feare of incurring his dis-fa­vour: Perswade not your sest [Page 202]that he enters into judgement with you, and that to appease your complaints, he declares to you the motives which ob­lige him to punish you. So­veraignes, which are men, ren­der no account of their acti­ons to their Subjects, and when they make an Edict, or pronounce a Decree, they of­ten conceale the causes of it, and alledge no other reasons than their wills.

Beleeve then that God pu­nisheth you for your crimes, Will he reprove thee for feare of thee? will he enter with thee into judge­ment? and that all these afflictions which overwhelme you, are the just chastisements which your impiety deserves.

Nor can you deny but that you have reigned like a Ty­rant, Is not thy wickednesse great? & thine iniquities infi­nite? that against the funda­mentall Lawes of State you have treated your Subjects a [...] Slaves, that taking pawnes [...] those who were insolvable, you have made as many poor [Page 203]as you had Debters, and that by a violence which deserves not pardon, you have taken from them their clothes, and have enriched your selfe with their spoyles.

I passe under silence, For thou hast taken a pledge from thy brother for nought, and stripped the naked of their clothing. as not being your greatest crime, how that you have refused the necessitous the use of the wa­ter, which you have turned aside for to water your gar­dens, Thou hast nor given wa­ter to the wea­ry to drinke, and thou hast withholden bread from the hungry. and denying the bread which you owed to the mi­serable in their need, you have taken from them that which you would not give them.

As long as heaven favou­red you, as your Subjects fea­red you, you invaded the Lands of your neighbours, and without acknowledging any right but that of Armes, you kept with injustice what you acquired with violence.

But as [...] the mighty man, he had the earth; and the honoura­ble man dwelt in it. And to be no better [Page 204]your Subjects than to stran­gers, you ravished the estate of the widowes, and added the misfortune of poverty to that of their condition. Orphans, who thought to finde a se­cond father in you, Thou hast sent widowes away empty, and the arms of the father­lesse have bin broken. had no more cruell enemy, and their riches making their crimes, you did not judge them inno­cent, but when you had made them miserable.

The miseries which now besiege you are the punish­ments of these sins, There­fore snares are round about thee, and sud­den fear trou­bleth thee. and with­out searching any more whence these sanique ter­rours come which affright you, and these invisible chayns which take away your liber­ty, you must believe that your injustice is the true cause of it.

But that which astoni­sheth me the most, Or dark­nesse that thou canst not see, and abundance of wares cover thee. is, that amongst so many violences you lived without feare, for when you made any reflection [Page 205]upon the condition of your fortune, you imagined that it had so much luster, that dis­graces could not obscure it, and that it had so much sted­fastnesse, that all mis-fortunes could not overthrow it.

When you entertaine your selfe with these false hopes, Is not God in the height of hea­ven? and be­hold, the height of the stars, how high they are. you believe without doubt, that because God lodgeth in the heavens, because he wal­keth upon the starres, and his glory seperates him from his creatures, he doth not watch over their actions, or if he take any notice of them, 'tis with so much confusion, that as one must not hope for re­compence, one need not be afraid of punishment.

Your superstition formed it selfe a God, And thou sayest, how doth God know? can he judge through the darke cloud? who could nei­ther know nor punish crimes, and to entertaine your self in this foolish beliefe, you were perswaded, that the thicknese [Page 206]of the clouds stole from him the sight of them, Thick clouds are a coveriog to him that he seeth not, and he walketh in the circuit of heaven: and that being onely busied about the motions of the heavens, he neglected the conduct of the earth.

Oh! will you never leave following the errours of past ages, Hast thou marked the old way which wicked men have trodde [...]? which in thus much ought to be suspected of you, as that they who invented them have undergone the pu­mshment of them? Which were cut down out of time, whose fonnda­tion was over­flown with a flood. that their death was hastened to stop the course of their perverse Do­ctrine, and that famous De­luge which drowed the Uni­verse, was a chastisement which God found to punish them.

They also said impudently, Which said unto God, Depart from us: and what can the Al­mighty do for them? that they would not serve him, since he could not pro­tect them, and that a God who had not power, deserved no honou [...]: Finally, they spoke with contempt of him [Page 207]whom Angels adore, and made a vaine Idoll of him who gives the heavens motion and the earth repose.

I know not how these im­pious men, Yet he filled their houses with good things: but the coun­sell of the wic­ked is far from me. whose sentiments are so farre from my beliefe, could vomit out these blas­phemies against God; for whilest they condemned his providence, it filled their hou­ses with riches, and whilest they despised his power, it made their Lands fruitfull.

Moreover these errours are so visible, The righ­teous see it, and are glad: and the inno­cent laugh them to scorn. that the just shall mock at them one day, and the simple, whose minde hath nothing elevated, shall laugh at these wise men of the world, who boasted them­selves to be the Authors of them.

Their vanity shall then be humbled, Whereas our substance is not cut down, but the remnant of them the fire consumeth. for besides the dis­pleasure of seeing their opi­nions despised, they shall [Page 208]have the regrett of seeing their disciples serve as a prey to the flames, for having been willing to maintaine their pernicious Doctrine.

Do not you then beare any part in their opinions, Acquaint now thy self with him, and be at peace: thereby good shall come un­to thee. if you would not have any in their punishments; but follow bet­ter advice, reconcile your self with God, make peace with that puissant enemy which makes warre with you, and that will produce you more happinesse than this hath cau­sed you misery.

Receive the Law of his mouth since he is victorious, Receive, I pray thee, the law from his mouth, and lay up his words in thine heart. submit your selfe to his Ordi­nances since he is your Sove­raigne, and for feare his words should escape you, write them not in marble, but eng [...]ave them in your heart.

This advice will not be unprofitable to you, If thou return to the Almighty, thou shalt be built up, thou shalt put awa [...] mi­quity far from thy taberna­cles. for if you appease God by your prayers, [Page 209]he will make your condition more glorious than it is con­temptible, and if to satisfie him, you banish sinne from your selfe, to recompence you he will banish misery from your house.

Then shall you acquit your selfe of all your losses, Then shalt thou lay up gold as dust, and the gold of Ophit as the stones of the brooks. and you shall recover with usury what was taken from you, for for barren Lands, which could bring forth nothing, you shall have such as in their entrayles shall produce Por­phyrie; and in stead of those unprofitable Rocks which made a part of your Estate, you shall have fertile Mines, from whence shall issue rivers of gold.

God who seemes to be a­gainst you, Yea, the Almighty shall be thy de­fence, & thou shalt have plen­ty of silver. shall turn on your side, your enemies shall be his, and because they make warre with silver as well as iron, you shall have them both in abun­dance, [Page 210]the one to pay your Souldiers, and the other to arme them.

In this happy condition God shall be all your delight; For then shalt thou have thy delight in the Almighty, and shalt lift up th [...] face un­to God. and because he shall be the Author of it, you shall finde it more solid than those which you have heretofore tasted. Finally, you shall converse fa­miliarly with him, and in the same manner that your sinne made you humble your eyes towards the earth, your inno­cence shall make you lift them towards heaven.

You shall aske nothing o [...] God which he doth not gran [...] you, Thou shalt make thy pray­er unto him, and he shall hear thee, and thou shalt pay thy vows. his gifts shall be proo [...] to you of his love, and the vowes which you shall ma [...] him shall be testimonies o [...] your fidelity.

You shall make no wishe [...] in vaine, Thou shalt also decree a thing, and it shall be esta­blished unto thee: and the light shall shine upon thy wayes. things shall happe [...] as you have projected them [...] their successe shall never de­ceive [Page 211]your hopes, and all your conjectures shall have so much certitude, that it shall be very easie to judge that your light comes from heaven.

So by an agreeable ex­change, When men are cast downe, then thou shalt say, There is lift­ing up: and he shall save the humble per­son. he who was in con­tempt shall be in esteeme; That sinner which durst not looke up to Heaven, shall see the starres under his feet, and injoying a true happinesse, he shall have no more feares which disquiet him, nor hopes which deceive him.

But to arrive to this felicity, He shall deliver the I­sland of the in­nocent: and it is delivered by the purenesse of thine hands. it is necessary to be innocent, and to acquire this glorious Title, good words must be ac­companied with good works, and the sanctity of our soules be made known by the purity of our actions.

CHAP. XXIII.

WHen these discour­ses, Then Job answered and said, which contai­ned reproaches ra­ther than consola­tions, were ended, Job negle­cted to answer them, and knowing that God is the sup­port of the miserable, he en­tertained himself with him it these tearmes:

My friends persecute me, [Page 213]the remedies which they ap­ply to my evill are so violent, Even 10 day is my com­plaint bitter: my stroke is heaviour than my groaning. that in stead of sweetning them, they exasperate them; wherefore my mouth is al­waies open to complaints, notwithstanding whatsoever indeavou I use, it cannot ex­presse the griefe which I en­dure; as it is not so eloquent as the hand which struck me is heavy, my evils are alwaies greater than my complaints, and those who see me, and heare me, are bound to ac­knowledge, that I am more unhappy than I am eloquent.

But with whatsoever pu­nishment he afflicts me, O that I knew where I might finde him! that I might come e­ven to his seat; I would treat with him as they doe with the Kings of the earth, and finde an Angell who would be my guide to conduct me before the throne, where he absolves the inno­cent, and condemnes the guilty.

Though he be my enemy, I would take him for my Judge, and I would accompany my discourses with so many fight and just complaints, that I would oblige him to speake with me, and judging of his designes by his Answers, I would understand what I am ignorant of, and know why I am unhappy being innocent.

I would not in truth in this contestation, I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with argu­ments. that he should use his absolute power, that he should dazzle me with the Rayes of his Majesty, or that he should overwhelme me un­der the weight of his great­nesse.

But I would have him sub­mit himself to the Lawes of his ordinary Justice, I would know the words which he would an­swer me, & un­derstand what he would say unto me. and that by a favour which they deny not to the guilty, my sentence might beare my crime as well as my punishment: Upon these conditions I should pro­mise [Page 215]my self the better in my cause, and hope that my Judge would pronounce in my favour.

But what diligence soever I use, Will he plead against me with his great power? No, but he would put strength in me. I cannot meet with him, though he animate all with his presence, and his immen­sity leave no vacuity in the world, his retreat is unknown to me: There the righteoos might dispute with him; so should I be de­liver [...]d for e­ver from my Judge. whether I search him where the day-starre riseth, or search him where it sets, all my cares are equally unprofi­table, and I can learne no newes of him.

If I east my eyes towards those parts of the world where summer makes all the seasons, Behold, I go forward, but he is not there, & back­ward, but can­not perceive him. or towards those un­happy Countries whose win­ters are eternall, I cannot dis­cover him.

But for him, On the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the [...]ight hand, that I cannot see him. wheresoever I go, he knowes how to finde me, and his knowledge not being bounded as mine, he [Page 216]seeth as well my heart, as my face, and hath no need of my words to understand my thoughts: Notwithstanding as if so many lights were not sufficient, he tryeth me like gold, and will have afflictions be to my soule, what the flame is to the mettall, and that to purifie me they con­sume me.

If this tryall give me much trouble, But he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold. it give, me also much glory, so he sees that nothing can take me off from his ser­vice, and that in all conditi­ons which he pleaseth to re­duce me to, I obey his will, and submit my self to his Or­dinances.

Indeed I never wandred from his Lawes, My foot hath held his steps, his way have [...] kept, and not decsi­ned. and not judg­ing that marble was worthy to receive the words of his mouth, I have ingraved them in my soule, and never lost the remembrance of them.

So must we confesse that he well deserves this honour, Neither have I gone back from the commandment of his lips, I have esteem­ed the words of his mouth, more than my necessary food for he is transcendently singular, and hath no equals as the Kings of the earth; his know­ledge is not mixt with dark­nesse, nor his power accom­panied with weaknesses; and as nothing can change what he foresaw, But he is in one minde, and who can turn him? and what his soul desireth, even that he doth. so nothing can hinder what he desires.

His power furnishes him wi [...]h so many meanes to exe­cute his will, that those which he hath imployed are alwayes lesse in number than those which remaine; For he performeth the thing that is appointed for me: and many such things are with him. The misery of my condition is an excel­lent proofe of this high truth, for with what punishment so­ever he hath exercised my pa­tience, if his goodnesse ap­pease not his justice, he may finde yet a thousand more ri­gorous ones.

If I give way to these fatall opinions, There­fore am I trou­bled at his pre­sence: when I consider, I am asraid of him. they ought not ac­cuse [Page 218]me of being timorous, for 'tis not the greatnesse of a man which astonishes me, but the Majesty of a God which affrights me: And I have al­wayes imagined, that as it were weaknesse to feare a man, it were madnesse not to be afraid of a God.

Also I protest to you, For God maketh my heart soft, and the Almighty troubleth me: that nothing hath so much hum­bled me as this consideration, and if God had not been of the party, Because I was not cut off before the darknesse, nei­ther hath he covered the darknesse from my face. I should have cou­rage enough to overcome all the misfortunes which tor­ment me, and to drive away all the tempests which envi­ron me.

CHAP. XXIV.

ANd because you ac­cuse me to be of the number of those wicked men, Why, see­ing times are not hidden from the Al­mighty, doe they that know him, not see his dayes. who [...]o give themselves more li­ [...]ence in their crimes, will not [...]cknowledge Divine Provi­ [...]ence, I shall be glad to de­ [...]lare you my opinion, to pro­ [...]ect me from your calumnies: Know then that I beleeve it so [Page 220]perfect in its light, that it knowes all the differences of sinne, and that things future and past to us, are alwaies present to it, but know also that I hold it so secret in its designes, that they themselves who adore it, know not the moment which it hath design­ed for the punishment of the wicked.

Some abusing their power, Some re­move the land marks they vi­olently take a­way flocks, & feed there­of. and violating the Lawes of Justice, advance the bounds of their possessions, to invade the Lands of their neighbours: By the same Licence they car­ry away the flocks of stran­gers, and as if right consisted but in force, they drive them into their meadowes, and keepe them there with as much insolence as injustice.

If Orphans have but an Asse, They drive away the asse of the fa­therlesse, they take the wi­dows ox for a pledge. wherewith they serve themselves, their insatiable avarice doth not spare him: [Page 221]but because they are ingeni­ous, and search pretences to colour their bad designes, they feigne that the widowes are their debters, and take the Kine which feed them, for security of their debt.

Sometimes they give them­selves more licence, They turn the needy out of the way: the poore of the earth hide themselves to­gether. and adde force to injustice, for th [...]y wait for passengers upon the great roades, and rob the poore people who have no Armes, and who place all their safety in the Authority of the Prince. We know well that Divine Providence sees all these crimes, but we know not when it will punish them.

Others, Behold, as wilde asses in the desert go they forth to their work, rising betimes for a prey: the wildernesse yeeldeth food for them and for their chil­dren. who would have necessity serve as an excuse for their sin, go out of the Cities, and retire themselves into the Forrests, where putting on the nature of wilde beasts, they feed on nothing but prey, thest is their exercise, and [Page 222]pillage the trade wherewith they maintaine their fami­lies.

When hunger presses them, They reap every one his corn in the field: and they gather the vin­tage of the wicked. and constraines them to come out of the woods, they make incursions into the plaines, and according to the occasion of the season, they either car­ry away the corne which is not yet cut, or pillage the vines which are not yet vin­taged.

As these crimes are but for a taste, They cause the na­ked to lodge without cloth­ing: that they have no cover­ing in the cold they afterwards de­nounce warre against men, they despoyle them of their habits to cloath themselves with them, and taking coun­sell but of the fury which animates them, they spare neither poore nor rich.

Thus it often happens, They are wer with the showers of the mountains, and imbrace the rock for want of a shelter. that those miserable men who have nothing left to cover them, are exposed to the in­juries of the weather, that the [Page 223]cold freezeth them, that the raine molesteth them, and that to avoid these incommo­dities, They pluck the fa­therlesse from the brest, and take a pledge of the poor. they are constrained to hide themselves in the rocks, and like wilde beasts to retire into Cavernes: Divine Provi­dence which permits these im­pieties, cannot be ignorant of them, but to know when it will revenge them, is a secret which it hath reserved to it selfe.

Others more dangerous than these, They cause him to go naked with­out clothing, and they take away the sheaf from the hun­gty. do as many outra­ges to their neighbours, as theeves do violence to passen­gers, for they pillage the goods of the Orphans; misery, which should beget pitty in them, begets but audacity, and invites them to ruine the poore, and fill their houses with their spoyles.

When these miserable men are reduced to this pittifull condition, Which make oylwith­in their walls, and tread their wine presses, & suffer thirst. and that having [Page 224]no more Lands of their own, they are forced to leaze in those of others: These wic­ked men snatch the eares of corne out of their hands, and condemne them to a death which is so much the more cruell as it is tedious and lan­guishing. Whilest they com­mit these excesses, and that they make as many poore as they have neighbours, they sleepe under the shadow of the sheaves, to defend themselves from the heat of the sun, and being no better to their Do­mestiques than their neigh­bours, they constraine them to worke during the time which nature hath destined to repose, and by an extreme injustice make those dye with hunger and thirst, who tread the grapes and reape the corne.

Finally, Men groan from out of the city, and the soul of the wound­ed crieth out: yet God lay­eth not folly to them. their violence is so great, that it makes whole [Page 225]Cities groane, and constrains the most generous to com­plaine, their sighs mount up to heaven, and God who glo­ries in being the Protector of the afflicted, mediates the ru­ine of those who persecute them.

Certainly, They are of those that rebell against the light, they know not the wayes there­of, not abide in the paths thereof. if this conside­ration should not be strong enough to induce him to it, he would be obliged to it out of interest, for these are Sub­jects, Rebels to his Decrees, who would beignorant of his Lawes, that they might not be bound to keep them, and to have a pretence to perse­vere in their crimes, perswade themselves that repentance is a weaknesse of minde.

Others whose inclinations are more guilty, The mur­derer rising with the light, killeth [...] the poof and nee­dy, and in the night is as a th [...]. rise every morning before the Sun, and upon the great Rodes, or in publike places assassine those poore workmen who begin [Page 196]their labour with the day; when night hath covered the earth with darknesse, they slip by its favour into houses, and end with theft the day, which they begun with mur­der.

The eye also of the a­dulterer wait­eth for the twi­light, saying, No eye shall see me: and disguiseth his face. If at any time an unlawfull love possesseth them, and its unchaste flames consume their hearts, they take a time con­venient for their designes, and chuse the most darke nights to satisfie their passions, and guilt which is never in safety, obli­geth them to cover their fa­ces, that they may not be known.

In the dark they dig through hou­ses, which they had marked for themselves in the day time: they know not the [...]ight. When they judge that me [...] rest, and that charmed by sleepe, they have lost the use of their sences, they betake themselves to the assignations which were given them in the day, they enter into houses by tricks or force, and glu [...] their unclean desires by the [Page 227]favour of the darknesse.

If at any time they awake a little late, For the morning is to them even as the shadow of death: if one know them, they are in the terrors of the shadow of death. and the morning surprize them, they imagine in the passion which blinds them, that she that comes to bring day to men, did not rise but to bring death to them, and remaining in opi­nions contrary to the worlds, they make day of night, and of its most thick darknesses their most agreeable lights.

But whatsoever precaution they bring, He is swift as the waters, their portion is cur­sed in the earth: he be­holdeth not the way of the vineyards. that they may not be discovered, Divine Provi­dence shall know how to finde them for to punish them, and if it be permitted me to pre­vent their chastisements by my desires, I wish that their prosperity were more incon­stant than the waters, that their Lands were more barren than the sands of the deserts, and that their Meadowes and their Vineyards may never in­crease [Page 228]the number of their possessions.

Drought and heat con­sume the snow waters: so doth the grave those which have sinned. May the heat agree with the cold to make them barren, may the winters be so violent and so moyst, as to rot all the Corne which they shall sowe, and if there remaine any which shall thrust forth eares, may the burning heats of the summer devoure them, and may this misfortune without ever being interrupted, ac­company them to the grave.

May mercy, The wombe shall forget him, the worm shal feed sweetly on him, he shall be no more re­membred, and wickednes shal be broken as a tree. which hath no greater cares than to succour the miserable, never think of assisting them, may death be their onely hope, may it teare them from the earth, like those unprofitable trees which bring forth no fruit, may it set upon their reputation as well as their life, and may it deface them out of the memo­ry of men.

He evill enrreateth the barren that beareth not, and doth not good to the widow. But we must acknowledge [Page 229]that this punishment is too gentle for their sin; for they respected not that Sex whom weaknesse serves for a privi­ledge, and assasinating the children and the husband of the same woman, they tooke from her her support and her hopes.

Then, He draw­eth also the mighty with his power: he riseth up, and no man is sure of life. having made practise upon those weake persons, and without defence, they as­saulted the more mighty, and as if the ruine of great ones had been the establishing of their owne fortune, they em­ployed all their force to over­throw them, and notwith­standing after all these violent precautions, they were not se­cure of their life.

Though it be given him to be in safety, whereon he resteth; yet his eyes are upon [...] their wayes. Heaven hath deferred their punishment to give them time of repentance, but its good­nesse which should have over­come their malice, hath served but to make them more obsti­nate [Page 230]in their designes, and more insolent in their happi­nesse. It is true, that his Pro­vidence which watcheth al­wayes over men carefully, con­sidered their actions, and way­ted but for the moment which it had decreed to punish them.

In a word, They are exalted for a little while, but ere gone and brought low, they are taken out of the way as all other, and cut off as the tops of the ears of corn. their happinesse hath not been of long conti­nuance, the same Sun which advanced them hath dissipated them, their end hath not bin more glorious than that of the least things of the earth; and in the same manner as there needs but a little winde to beat down the fairest eares of corne, there hath needed but a little disgrace for to overthrow all their fortune.

And if it be not so now, who will make me a ly­er, and make my speech no­thing worth? But if in all these discourses my opinions have not beene conformable to truth, I would have them accuse me before the Throne of God, and exa­mine [Page 231]all my words there; but if it be true, that the just are sometimes opprest, and that the wicked are not al­waies punished, I would have you make a better constru­ction of my Innocence, and alleadge my miseries no more as assured proofes of my sinne.

CHAP. XXV.

Then an­swered Bildad the Shuhite, and said: BAldad distrusted his forces, and judged rightly, that a bad cause could not ea­fily be defended; but as he would not yeeld to the good reasons of Job, he undertooke with a bad designe an excel­lent Panegyrick of the power of God, which he begun in these tearmes.

Domini­on and fear are with him, he maketh peace in his high pla­ces. It is to have too good an [Page 233]opinion of your selfe, and not to make esteeme enough of God, when you wish that he were your Judge; he hath glorious qualities, which ought to beget in you modest sentiments, and more humble desires; His Majesty is accom­panied with so much Power, that he strikes astonishment and feare in the minds of all the Greatures; He appea­seth the differences of the elements, and obligeth them to force their 'owne inclinati­ons, to preserve the quiet of the world; He shakes all the Heavens with so much even­nesse, that in the contrariety of their Motions they never disorder themselves. Finally, maintaines peace amongst the Angels, and tempering his Justice with his Goodnesse, he makes himself equally lo­ved and feared of those bles­sed Spirits.

Though in this absolute power God hath no need of any one to execute his de­signes, Is there any number of his armies and upon whom doth not his light arise? notwithstanding he hath Armies whose Souldiers cannot be counted. The An­gels adore him in heaven, men serve him upon earth, the Devils are afeard of him in hell. This prodigious num­ber of Subjects makes no con­fusion in his minde, and their different qualities do not hin­der him, but he knows their worth, and knowes their names.

After so much pompe and glory, How then can men be justified with God? or how can he be clean that is born of a woman? which makes the Ma­jesty of God so adorable, should not that man be inso­lent who would justifie him­selfe before him, and must he not have forgotten the condition of his mother, and the shame of his birth, if he pretended any thing to the quality of an Innocent.

That beautifull Starre, Behold e­ven to the moon, and it shineth not: yea, the stars are not pure in his sight. which in the obscurity of the night makes us see againe the brightnesse of the day, hath no lustre in his presence, and the Starres who are the ho­nour of the Firmament, and give it advantage above the other Heavens, compared with him, are not without im­purities, and without staines.

What then can man pro­mise himselfe, How much lesse man, that is a worm: and the son of man which is a worm? whose birth is so shamefull, whose death is so miserable, and who be­ing but corruption during his life, can be nothing but rot­tennesse after his death?

CHAP. XXVI.

WHen Baldad had ended this En­logivus, But Job answered, and said, which he had rather made for the patience of Job than to praise the greatnesse of God, he re­ceived from him this Answer:

What designe can you have in your discourse, How hast thou helped him that is without po­wer? how sa­vest thou the ann that hath no strength? which is not injurious to God? do you believe that his Power [Page 237]hath need of your succour? and when you defend his cause with so much heat, do you perswade your selfe that he is one of those oppressed persons, whose weaknesse ob­ligeth the great ones to under­take his protection?

When you give him advice and instructions to ruine me, How hast thou counsel­led him that hath no wis­dom? and how hast thou plen­tifully declea­red the thing, as it is? do you think he hath need of your counsell? and when you make these great discourses, do you imagine that his Di­vine Wisdome hath need of your prudence?

Do not you know that he whom you undertake to in­struct, To whom hast thou utte­red words? and whose spirit came from thee? is the source of all our knowledge, and that our minde being but the breath of his mouth, we have no light but what we have derived from his?

His Power is so known, Dead things are formed from under the waters, and the inhabitants thereof. that one must have lost his Judge­ment, to imagine that yours is [Page 238]necessary to him; and to give you some proofes of it which may oblige you to treat him with more respect, I will re­present to you but the effects which he produceth in na­ture. Know then that it is he who makes the Monsters groane under the waters, who keeps captives in the sea those heavy Whales, whose great­nesse justly deserues the name of Gyants.

His knowledge is not lesse than his Power, Hell is na­ked before him, and de­struction hath no covering. he sees the dead in their graves, and the earth which steales them from our eyes, cannot steale them from his, since the Abysses are open to him, and hell it selfe hath not darknesse enough to hide the Devils from him.

He hath stretched over out heads those parts of Heaven whence the North winds rise, He stret­cheth out the north over the empty place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing. and hath given them no foun­dation but vacuity; He hath [Page 239]formed the earth like a bowle, and though so weighty a masse required strong Pillars, he hath left it no support but nothing.

It is he who hath found the secret of keeping the waters in the ayre, He hind­eth up the wa­ters in his thick clouds, and the cloud is not rent un­der them. and of thickning them into vapours, that they may distill drop by drop, and water the fields, which might apprehend a second deluge, if they discharged themselves all at once.

But is it not wonderfull, He hold­eth back the face of his throne, and spreadeth his cloud upon it. that he hides from us with the clouds that beautifull Starre which serves him for a Throne, and that doing us a little hurt to procure us much good, He hath compassed the waters with bounds, untill the day and night come to an end. he deprives us of its beauty to enrich our Lands with the raine?

The elements beare him so much respect, The pil­lars of heaven tremble, and are astonished at his reproof. that they have no other motion than his will, the sea never passeth the [Page 240]bounds which he hath prescri­bed to its fury, He divi­ded the sea with his po­wer, & by his understanding he smiteth through the proud. and when it seemes that its floatings are about to ingulfe all the earth, they have no sooner touched the banke, but their fiercenelk slackens, and their rage con­verts it self into foame: this obedience shall not be lesse faith full than it is prompt, for as long as the dayes and nights do mutually succeed one another, the Billowes shall breake themselves upon the Land, and the Sea shall not passe its limits.

Those high mountaines which seeme to be the pillars of heaven are touched with the same sentiment, By his Spirit he hath garnished the heavens; his hand hath for­med the croo­ked serpent. and though nothing be more pro­per to them than repose, they tremble when he speaks, and to obey his will, they either shake their heads, or unfaste [...] their feet from the earth.

But is it not a prodigious Lo, these [Page 241]Effect of his power, when he appeaseth the Tempests, that he calmes the fury of the Sea, and triumphs over that pride which is no lesse naturall to it then inconstancy?

Finally, By his spirit he hath garnished the heavens; his hand hath for­med the crook­ed serpent. it is his puissant hand which hath adorned the heavens with all these diffe­rent beauties which make it so agreable, [tis it which fils the aire with meteors, which formes the cloud, and which to deliver them of those thun­ders of which they are great, opens their bosome and makes them happily bring forth the lightnings, which as furious Dragons fly in the aire, and fill it with flames. Lo, these are parts of this wayes; but how little a portion is heard of him? but the thunder of his power who can under­stand?

Although these things be admirable, yet they are but the ordinary effects of his Power, and if it be true that we have so much trouble to relate them, how can we des­cribe those great miracles [Page 242]whose brightnesse dazzeleth the eye, and whose noyse asto­nisheth the eare?

CHAP. XXVII.

AS Job saw that his ene­mies had no reply, Moreover Iob continued his parable, and said, he continued his discourse, which he fortifyed with new reasons, and appeared more eloquent then ever.

I sweare by the living God, As God li­veth who hath taken away my judgement, and the Al­mighty, who hath vexed my soule; who that he might not be ob­liged to absolve me, would not pronounce my sen­tence: I sweare by the Om­nipotent, who makes me suf­fer so many miseries, who de­prives me of all consolations which may sweeten them, and who condemnes me to passe my life in perpetuall languish­ment.

I sweare I say, All the while my breath is in mee, and the spirit of God is in my no­strills. that as long as my heart shall beat in my brest, and my lungs shal breath the Aire, and my spirit ani­mate my sad body, my mouth which I have consecrated to truth, shall never serve for lyes, & that my tongue which is the faithfull interpre­ter of my heart, shall never speake a word which is con­trary to my thoughts. My lips shall not speak wickednesse, nor my tongue utter deceit.

Wherefore you ought not hope that I take your part, or that I approve of the un­just [Page 244]just opinions which you have of my person: for were I to dye, I would persist in my opi­nion, and with whatsoever reasons you endeavour to op­pose it, I will never betray my innocence.

I know very well that it is dangerous to be Judge in ones owne cause, God forbid that I should justifie you; zill I die, I will not re­move my inte­grity from me. and that one is easily deceived where his in­terest is concerned; but for my part I feare not mistaking my selfe, and I thinke that in defending my side, I defend truth's: for conscience which is worth a thousand witnes­ses doth not accuse me of committing any sinne, which deserves so rigorous a punish­ment.

Sinners have never had commerce with me, My right­cousnesse I hold fast, and will not let it go: my heart shall not re­proach me so long as I live. and as the honour of God regulated all my interests, his enemies have alwayes beene mine, and all those who stood ill with [Page 245]him, never stood faire with me.

Also I doubted that the hope of the wicked was ill founded, Let mine enemy be as the wicked, & he that riseth up against me as the unrigh­teous. that they could not finde in riches the content­ment which they promised themselves, that the most great if heaven did not blesse them, were ofttimes the most un­profitable, and if they did de­liver them from poverty, they did not warrant them from death.

Do you thinke that God will assist them, For what is the hope of the hypocrite, though he hath gained, when God takes a­way his soul? when they shall implore his goodnesse in their misfortunes, and that he heares prayers which having no other motive but in­terest, deserve rather punish­ment then recompences, and are rather sinnes then good workes?

Finally do you thinke that in the ingagements, Will God heare his cry when trouble commeth up­on him? which thep have to the goods of the [Page 246]earth, Will he delight him­selfe in the Almighty? will he always call upon God? they can finde their rest in God, and that in the hap­py successes which make them insolent, they invoke the name of God with as much fervour as in their disgraces? I will teach you by the hand of God: that which is with the Almighty, will I not con­ceale.

Do not accuse me then of imitating them, since the dif­ference of our actions justi­fies me, and if you accord me this favour I will discover to you the admirable secrets of divine Providence, and make you see the chastisements which it provides for the im­pious, whose crimes it seemes to have forgotten.

But why do I call them se­crets, Behold, all ye your selves have seen it, why are ye then thus alto­gether vaine? since so many memora­ble examples which have made them publick will not suffer you to be ignorant o [...] them? But if you know them why do you oppose my inno­cence with so many vain rea­sons, and confounding th [...] crime with the punishment [Page 247]would you make an unhap­py Man passe for a guilty?

Now that you may not ac­cuse me of taking the part of sinners, This is the portion of a wicked man with God, and the heritage of oppressours. I will speake to you of the punishments which God reserves for them, and make you see the inheritance which this just Father provides for his rebellious children.

Be assured then that if they have many Heyres, If his children be multiplyed, it is for the sword: and his off-spring sha [...] not be satisfied with bread. their num­ber shall serve but to make them miserable; for they shall see them fall before them, as sad victimes, upon whom the incensed people shall discharg their just fury; and those who shall escape, shall be so cru­elly persecuted by hunger, that they shall envy the fortune of their brethren, and esteeme themselves unhappy to have escaped from the hands of a popular mutiny.

If there remaine any of them who survive so many Those that remaine of him shall be buried in death; and his widowes shall not weep. [Page 248]misfortunes, and whom war and famine had not put to Death, they shall be stricken with that contagious sicknes which deserves as well the name of death as that of the Plague, since it keeps intelli­gence with it to ruine Cities, and dispeople States. In so fatall a mortality their wives shall not lament them, and whither their affection be too weake, or their sorrow too vi­olent, they shall shed no teares upon their graves. Though he heap up sil­vet and dust, and repaire raiment as the clay;

If the unfortunate father of these unhappy children had gathered together Mountains of Gold; if silver had been as common with him as Earth, if his houses had been adorned with proud moveables, of which the world had admired the beauty, if the number of them had not diminished the Price: He may prepare it, but the just shall shall put it on, and the inno­cent shall di­vide the silver.

He shall have but the trou­ble [Page 249]of gathering them, and another shall have the plea­sure of using them: for he who can absolutely dispose of our Goods, shall make them fall into the hands of the just, who being a better Oeconomist then the covetous, shall distri­bute them liberally to the poor, and make more men happy with them then, the o­ther hath made miserable. He build­eth his house as a moth, and as a booth that the keeper maketh.

So experience shall make knowne to all the world, that he hath done like wormes, which gnaw the wood to which they cleave, and ruine their houses when they seem to build them: or that he hath imitated the shepherds, who make Cabins in the Summer to tend their flocks, The rich man shall lye down, and he shall not be ga­thered [...]he o­peneth his eves, and he is not. and who leave them to any one that will take them when winter comes.

But though he had longer possest these Goods, yet he had [Page 250]still lost them at his death: for when the rich man leaves the world he carries away no­thing with him, and when shutting the eyes of his body, he shall open those of his minde, he shall not see so much as the shadow of his past felicity. Terrours take hold on him as waters, a tempest stea­leth him away in the night.

Then misery and poverty like overflowing Rivers shall besiege him on all sides: un­foreseen myseries shall sur­prize him, as it happens in the horrour of the night when unthought of tempest, sur­prise the sleeping Marriners. The East­winde carrieth him away, and he departeth: and a storme hurleth him out of his place.

And that nothing may be wanting to his just punish­ment, aviolent death like a su­rious winde shall carry him from the earth, where his dis­ordered affection held him so fast tyed; and then he shall be no lesse tossed, then if he were carryed away by a whi [...]l­winde, or served as Pastime [...] for tempests.

God himself who shall not spare him in this encounter shall powre upon him all sorts of miseries, For God shall cast up­on him, and not spare; he would fain flie out of his hand. and when these faithfull Ministers shall assault him on all sides, he shall make vaine attempts to get himselfe out of their hands, and unprofitable wishes to meet with a sanctuary, where he may be in security.

All those who shall be wit­nesses of his misfortune shall clap their hands in token of rejoycing, Men shal clap their hands at him, and shall hisse him out of his place. and when the Just shall see the place which his siane shall give him in hell, they shall hisse at him with pleasure, and his miseries shall be a part of their happinesse.

CHAP. XXVIII

WHen this discourse was ended, and Job saw that his friends did not speake, he began againe wari­ly to entertaine them in con­ference, and engaged himselfe to let them see by a long dedu­ction of the wonders of Na­ture, that all things are gover­ued by a supreame providence and since that they have their center and their ends, man [Page 253]may reasonably hope that he shall have his, and that his sinnes shall be punished, and his vertues recompenced.

That metall (saith he) which maintaines commerce a­mongst Men, Surely there is a veine for the filver, and a place for gold where they fine it. and which findes remedyes for all their needs, hath secret veyns where it is hidden: and Gold the most noble of metalls, which hath no price it selfe, and yet gives it to all things, is shut up in mines where Natureworks whole ages to forme it.

Iron which they imploy to so many divers uses, Iron is ta­ken out of the the earth, and brasse is mol­ten out of the stone. which serves in warre and Peace, and without which the courage of souldiers, and the industry of artizans would be unprofita­ble, is drawne from the entrals of the earth; and brasse, which serves as a recompence to the vertue of Illustrius men, and which affords matter of which they make them statues, [Page 254]is drawne from stones which melted by the heat of the fire turne into Mettal.

Though nature hath taken pleasure to hide all these Met­talls, He setteth an end to dark­nesse, and searcheth out all perfection: the stones of darknesse and the shadow of death. industry provides man with certaine markes for to discover them, and infallible conjectures to know the time when they must be drawne out of their Darknesse: and though the shadow of Death forbids the entry into these caves, avarice and curiosity give him courage enough to go downe thither; and en­rich himself with their spoyls.

There are torrents found which divide certaine people from all others, The flood breaketh out from the inha­bitant; even the waters for­gotten of the foot: they are dryed up, they are gone away from men. and where waters are so profound and rapid, that shutting the pas­sage from travellers, they make the Provinces inaccessible which they water, and put them in the Ranke of those things which were never seen.

There are lands seen which brought forth corne, As for the earth, out of it cometh bread, and under it is turned up as it were fire. and which by their fertility con­tributed to the Noutriture of men, which are become bar­ren, and which burnt by the Sunne which shined upon them, and dryed with the sul­phur which heated them, have lost their first fertility.

Tis true that this losse some­times is advantagious to them; The stones of it are the place of Sa­phires: and it hath dust of Gold. for it oftens happens that for corne they yeeld pretious stones and their Rocks turne into Saphyrs, and their turfes into wedges of Gold.

But as on the other side, There is a path which no fowle know­eth, and which the Vultures eye hath not seen. they are separated from the world, and lodged under cli­mates too hot; the Birds ne­ver fly thither, and Vultures whose penetrating sight can observe the prey so far, could never yet discover them.

The Lions whelps have not troden it, nor the fierce Lyon passed by it. Those wilde Beasts whose savage humour searcheth out [Page 256]the most Solitary places, could never yet finde them, and the Lionesses which run every­where when they have lost their little ones, have never approached them.

Yet man discovers them by his Industry, He putteth forth his hand upon the rock; he overturneth the mountains by the roots. as by the Obsti­nacy of his labour he pierceth Rocks, throwes down Moun­taines, and carries away the Treasure which they hide within their entralls.

His hands animated by his Curiosity, He cut­teth out rivers among the rocks, and his eye seeth every precious thing. divert the Course of Rivers, breake the Rockes which serve them for bankes, and his Eyes enjoying the la­bour of his hands, discover all that's rare and beautifull in the World.

Finally his minde which can not be overcome by dif­ficulties, He bind­eth the floods from overflow­ing, and the thing that is hid, bringeth he forth to light. and which to sur­mount them imployes both force and skill, sees the won­ders which the Rivers Cover [Page 257]with their waters, and con­trary to the designe of Nature reveales her secrets, and dis­covers all that she hides.

What soever good successe he hath in these searches, But where shall wisdome be sound? and where is the place of un­derstanding? he is not so happy, nor so dextrous in that of Divine wisdome; for he knows not where shee dwells, and what diligence soever he use to penetrate her designs, he is obliged to con­sesse that she surpasseth his un­derstanding, and that he ought rather to adore then search after them.

He knowes not what she is worth, Man knoweth not the price there­of; neither is it found in the land of the li­ving. and the esteem which he makes of things of the world, sufficiently testifies that he is ignorant of the price of her; he abuseth himselfe grossely when he perswades himself that he shall finde her in the Palce of them, who place all their Happinesse in Pleasures.

What diligence soever he use, The depth saith, It is not in me: and the sea saith, It is not with me. he shall have much adoe to hear any news of her; for the Abysses which shut up so many Treasures, confesse that they possesse her not, and the Sea which enticheth it selfe with our losses, and which makes us pay use for the Com­modities wich it lends us, ac­knowledgeth that she growes not with the Pearls, nor with the Corall:

Though all things obey Gold, It cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof. and there is nothing which one may not buy with Silver: * notwithstaning as Wisdom hath no Price, she gives and doth not sell her self, no treasure can buy her, and Experience teacheth us that the most rich are not the most wise.

Finally her merit surpasseth all that India hath of Rarity; It cannot be valued with the gold of O­phir, with the precious O­nyx, or the Saphire. and it would injure her to compare her with those [Page 259]stuffes, whose matter being so rich the tincture is more beau­tifull: or with those precious stones whose luster is so glit­tering, and greatnesse so mon­strous.

That excellent Gold whose Purity the fire cannot en­crease; The Gold and the Chry­stall cannot e­quall it: and the exchange of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold: the Chrystall which seems to be the last attempt of Nature, and makes us finde Heaven on Earth; those great Vessells of Gold whose work­manship is yet more precious then the matter, are not ex­quisite enough to be given in exchange of wisdom.

Those starres with which the firmament adornes it self, No men­tion shall be made of Co­rall, or of Pearles: for the Price of wisedome is above Rubies. when night drives away the day; that Sun whose Beauty makes so mary Idolaters, and all those other lights which oblige us to preferre Heaven before Earth, cannot be com­pared with her; but if her beauty beget a desire in us of [Page 260]seaching her, her dwelling more unknowne then the Rockes, out of which they setch the Diamonds, makes us loose the hope of finding her.

This Difficulty which en­hanceth her price is the cause that the Topazes of Ethiopis, The To­paz of Ethio­pia shall not equall it, nei­ther shall it be valued with pure gold. which seem to have the lustre of Gold, and the Purity of Chrystall, and those agreeable mixtures of colours, which make the Purple of Kings, are not rich enough to purchase her. Whence then cometh wisdom? and where is the place of under­standing?

Yet must we learn her dwel­ling, and permit our curiosi­tie to search the place where she makes her residence.

I know she is hidden from the eyes of men, Seeing it is hid from the eyes of all li­ving, and kept close from the fowles of the aire. that her Pu­rity cannot abide their lookes, and that she hath chosen a Dwelling so elevated, that the Birds which make their nests upon the tallest Trees, and [Page 261]which see the proudest Mon­taines below them, have not yet discovered her. Those Angurs themselves who boast of knowing the most secret things by the flight and lan­guage of Birds, are obliged to confesse that their knowledge is pure ignorance, and that to discover wisdome all their conjectures are false.

Those profound Abysses, Destructi­on and death say, We have heard the fame thereof with our eares. which are consecrated to Death, and those places sepa­rated from the noyse of the World, which seeme to be de­dicated to silence, know her by the high reputation which her merit gives her: but they are ignorant of her dwelling, and know not her face. God un­derstandeth the way there­of, and hee knoweth the place thereof.

God alone who knowes her Price knowes her retreat; and it is from him onely that we may learne where shee keeps her residence, and where leaving of that vayle which [Page 262]hides her from us, she disco­vers all her beauty.

Nor is he like men who see at once but one part of the Vniverse: For he looketh to the ends of the earth, and seeth under the whole heaven. he sees all the extre­mities of it together, and with one looke he observes distinctly that prodigious con­fufion of creatures which hea­ven encompasseth within its Circle.

And his knowledge is not new: To make the weight for the winds, and he weigheth the waters by measure. for when he weighed the winds, when he limited their courses, & prescribed the seasons which they were to govern, when he measured the waters, when he reduced them into their Beds, and forbad them to powre them­selves upon the Earth.

When he gave lawes to the raine, When he made a decree for the raine, and a way for the lightning of the thunder: when he marked it out Places to thicken into clouds, or designed it times to dis­solve into water, when he formed the tempests, and made [Page 263]them flash with lightning and when he traced them out the way, which they were to keepe for to fall upon the head of the Guilty:

Then he saw wisdom in his works, Then did he see it, and declare it, he prepared it, yea, and sear­ched it out. he related her Beauties to the Angels, to beget a de­sire of her in them, he prepa­red the hearts of men to re­ceive her, and sought meanes to make her visible, for to make her loved of all the world.

And to fortifie those feeble minds, And un­to man he said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisedome, and to depart from evill is under­standing. from whom the dif­ficultie of finding so faire a treasure had taken away the desire of seeking it, he taught them that the fear of the Lord was true wisdome, that the highest prudence was separa­ting from sin, and that a­mongst men they ought to passe for the most wise who were the most innno­cent.

CHAP. XXIX.

THe friends of Job conti­nued their silence, Moreover, Job continued his parable, and said: to give him occasion of continuing his discourse, and to make comparison of his past happi­nesses with his present mise­ries, which he did in these tearmes.

Since God hath lest me no­thing in my misfortune but desires, Oh, that I were as in moneth [...] past, as in the daies when God preserved me. shall I finde noe on [...] who will turn them into ef­fects, [Page 265]and reestablishing me in that happy condition, where God took so much care of me, that it seemed that I was the only object of his pro­vidence.

Why doth he not revive that former condition, When his candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I wal­ked through darkenesse. where [...]is grace shining upon me like a Sun filled me with new fa­vours? I lived without fear amongst dangers, and walked without stumbling amongst the obscurities of the night.

Why doth he not call back that agreeable season, As I was in the dayes of my youth, when the se­cret of God was upon my tabernacle. of which I tasted the sweetnesse, and resented not the troubles, where in a vigorous body I had noe violent Passi­ons, and where God treated so familiarly with me that it seemed, being no more my So­veraign, he was become my Equall? When the Almighty was yet with mee, when my chil­dren were a­bout me:

Or Why doth he not make that more advanced Age re­turn, [Page 266]where I saw my selfe environed with a multitude of children and Domesticks, who having in the difference of their conditions but the same designe thought of no­thing but to serve me and to please me?

Why is not my happinesse equall to that which I tasted, When I washed my steps with butter, and the rock powred me out rivers of Oyle: when my flocks were so fruit­full that I washed my feet in Milke, and my lands so fertill that the Rockes themselves brought forth Olives, When I went out to the gate through the city, when I prepared my seat in the street. which gave mee Rivers of Oyle? when followed by my sub­jects I shewed my selfe in the Places designed to do justice, and when to execute the charge of a Judge my self, I heard the complaints of the poor parties, or when they prepared me a Throne in some publick place, and without serving my self with an inter­preter I declared my pleasure to my People;

I did no sooner appear in this pompous equipage but the young men seized with re­spect, The young men saw me, and hid them­selves: and the aged arose, and stood up. bowed their eyes as daz­led with the lustre of my Countenance, and durst not look upon me; The old men, whom Age makes so venera­ble, had no sooner perceived me, but without making use of the priviledge of their yeers, they rose up and stood in my presence.

Princes whose birth gives them Liberty to speake, The Prin­ces refrained talking, and laid their hand on their mouth. ceased their discourses when they saw me, and the desire which they had to hear me, made them put their finger upon their Mouth and condemn it to silence.

The Generalls of Armies, The No­bles held their peace, and their tongue cleaved to the roofe of their mouth. whose words are received as Oracles in the councels of warre, left speaking when I would tell my advice, and passing from respect to asto­nishment, [Page 268]their tongues re­mained tyed to their P [...]la [...]e, and their soul was wholy shut up in their eys & their ears, to look upon me & to hear me.

Those who heard me, When the care heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witnesse to me. found not words enough to prayse my eloquence, & those which saw the Grace, which accom­panyed me in all my actions gave me such advantagious Testimonies, that any other minde then mine would have been proud of. Because I delivered the poor that cry­ed, and the fa­therlesse, and him that had none to help him.

When I had delivered the poor, who in his oppression implored my assistance, and that I had protected the Or­phane which had no support,

The unfortunate who owed me his goods and his life char­ged me with a thousand bene­dictions, The bles­sing of him that was ready to perish came upon me: and I caused the widoows heart to sing for joy. and the widow who owed to my care the conserva­tion of her children, banish­ed sadnesse from her Heart, & made her mouth publish my prayses.

Though Kings adorn them­selves with purple, I put on righteousnesse, and it clothed me: my judg­ment was as a robe and a dia­dem. & to make their Majestie more Princely, they imploy all that Nature produceth of rarety, my prin­cipall Ornament was Justice, and this vertue, which served me for all things, was my Dia­dem and my Crown. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame.

But because it is too severe if it be not tempered with Mer­cy, I mixed the quality of a fa­ther with that of a Judge, and because I know wel that what is profitable to the people is alwayes glorious to Princes, I lent my eyes to the blinde, and my feet to the lame, and my cares extended themselves even to the least subject of my state.

Of all those qualities where­with they flatter the ears of Princes, I was a father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not, I [...] searched out. there was none more agreeable to me then that of fa­ther of the poor, and their inte­rests were so deare to me, that as often as they pleaded against [Page 270]them in my presence, I pro­nounced not any sentence be­fore I had studied their cause, and every one observed, that I was oftner their Advocate then their judge.

I never used my power so freely as when it was necessa­ry to tame the pride of those who would oppresse them, And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoile out of his teeth. and as they were more cruell then Lions, I took pleasure to hunt them, and when I had over­taken them, I broke their teeth, I tore the pray out of their throate, and did at once two Actions of Justice, punishing a criminal, and delivering a [...] Innocent.

At the fight of so many ver­tuous Actions, Then I said, I shall die in my nest, & I shall mul­ciply my dayes as the sand. which m [...] thoughts deserved some re­compence, I promised my [...] to dye peaceably in mine ow [...] house, and to end my [...] sweetly as I had begun i [...]; I h [...] ­ped that my birth & my de [...] [Page 271]would be distant an Age, and that as the Palme amongst Trees lives again in its bran­ches, and the Phoenix amongst Birds is born again out of his Ashes, I should be young in my Age, and begin againe to live, when others begin to dye.

I thought it would be with me, My root was spread [...] by the waters, and the dew lay all nighs upon my branch. as with those Trees which being planted neer the streams never wither, and al­wayes push forth new bran­ches: Or that like to those Fruits, which are never so ea­sily cut, as when they are wa­tered with the dew, I should dye without sorrow, and be gently carried into the Grave.

I let my self be perswaded by my vain hopes that the good opinions which they had con­ceived of me, My glory was fresh in me, and my bow was renu­ed in my hand. should triumph over Calumny, and that the strength wherewith Heaven had provided me should never change, but to augment it self, [Page 272]and give me a plain advantage over all mine enemies.

That which helped me to deceive my self was the esteem which my eloquence had ac­quired me, Unto me men gave eare, and waited, and kept silence at my councell. for as often as I o­pened my mouth, they that heard me imagined that all my words were Oracles, & when I gave any advice, it was so ge­nerally approved, that it passed rather for a sentence, then the particular opinion of a man.

They were so religious that they durst neither add, After my words they speake no a­gaine, and my speech dropped upon them. nor take away any thing from my words and as waters which fall drop by drop hollow in­sensibly the hardest Rocks, the sweetnesse of my words made impression upon the most stubborne hearts, and my elo­quence never found Rebells.

They expected my discourses with more impatience then Husbandmen expect rain in a time of drought, And they waited for me, as for the raine, and they opened their mouth wide, as for the later raine. and pressed by [Page 273]their desires, they opened their mouth, as the angry Earth o­pens her brests to receive those tardy rains which she hath a long time wished for.

If at any time I lived private­ly with them, If I laugh­ed on them, they beleeved it not, and the light of my countenance they cast not down. & made escapes into any innocent mirth, they held this favour so deer, that in seeing it they could scarce be­leevei; they made so much e­steem of all that came from me, that a glance obliged them; and beleeving that mine eys were the interpreters of my heart, they thought they had as much part in my affections, as they had in my looks.

If I were in the assembly of Princes my Alyes, I chose out their way, and sare chief, and dwelt as a King in the ar­my; as one that comfor­eth the mo [...] ­ners. I was never troubled to keep my place, for they acknowledged mee for their superior, although I was but their equal, & gave me the first place; but when they en­compast me on all sides, & that I was seated amongst them as a Prince in the midst of his Ar­my, [Page 274]my, these extraordinary Ho­nours did not so strongly pos­sesse my minde, but I thought of the afflicted, & the desire of comforting them was always the strongest of my passions.

CHAP. XXX.

BUt at present that the Order of things is inver­ted, But now they that are younger than I, have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the degs of my stock. and that heaven is more rigorous to me, then it was favourable, the young me [...] mock at me, and their children whom I did not deign to lo [...]g with the dogs which kept my flocks, are the first which de­spise me.

I made so little esteem of them heretofore, Yea, where to might the strength of their hands profit mee, in whom old age was perished. that I would not give them the least imployment in my house, their services were unprofi­table to me, and their persons were so inconsiderable, that they who judged without pas­sion esteemed them unworthy to live: For want & famine they were soli [...]ry: flying into [...] wilderness in former time desolate and waste? Hunger and poverty persecuted them every where, shame chased them into the deserts, where burthened with a thousand incommodi­ties, they eat all that was set before them.

They chewed gras like beasts, Who cut [...] Mallows by the bushes, and Ju­niper roots for their meat. they tote off the barke from the trees to appease the cruel hunger which devoured them, & the root of Juniper, which surpasseth all other in bitternes was their ordinary food.

When these unhappy men whom necessity constrained to live in the valleys, They were driven [...] from among men (they [...] ­ed after [...] as after thief.) saw from far these sad meats, they ran with great cries of joy, gather­ed [Page 276]them with care, and eat them with pleasure.

Their dwelling was not more agreable than their no­rishment, To dwell [...]n the clifts of the valleys, in caves of the earth, and in the rocks. for they retyred themselves into vaste deserts whose silence was troubled by the noyse of Torrents, and to avoid the heat of the sunne which burned them, they buried themselves in caves, or rolled themselves upon the sands of the streams: Among the bushes they brayed, under the nettles they were gathered together. misfor­tune had so well accustomed them to this fatall kind of life, that they esteemed themselves very happy to be thus lodged & fed, & making their delights of these miseries, they thought to sleep upon Roses, when they lay upon thornes.

The nobility of their houses could not comfort them in these distasters, They were children of fools, yea, chil­dren of base men: they were viler then the earth. for as if all things had contributed to ren­der them contemptible, their fathers were of the dreggs of the people, and they counted [Page 277]none amongst their Ance­stours, but persons whose mindes were no more eleva­ted then their births.

Notwithstanding my misery furnisheth them with matter for their entertainments, And now am I their song, yea I am their by-word. I am the subject of all their jeers, and as insolence is natural to them, they make songs of my misfor­tunes & to make my disgraces passe into a Proverb, they call all miserable men by my name.

They have conceived so furi­ous an Avertion from me, They ab­hor mee, they flie farre from me, and spare not to spit in my face. that they can no longer endure me: the plague seemes not more contagious to them, then my person, and if at any time they approach it, it is to do me new outrages, and oblige their mouth, which hath blotted my reputation, to defile my face. Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted mee, they have also let loose the bridle upon me.

That which gives this liberty to these Insolents, is that they see that Heaven is a party, that God who was my Crea­tor is become my enemy, that [Page 278]he who had no arrows but to defend me, hath none now but to hurt me, & that to take from me the liberty of complaining, which is so sweet to the Mise­rable, he hath put a bridle in my mouth and condemned me to be silent.

He had not so soon pronoun­ced my sentence, Upon my right hand rise the youth, they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the wayes of their de­struction. but my ene­mies, as the Ministers of his vengeance, assaulted me on all sides: they imitated the cruel­ty of Hangmen, who seize up­on a Malefactour, they threw me upon the ground, they trumpled me under foot, and they followed one another like the waves of the sea without giving me any respit.

Since this Moment they sur­prize me in all places, They ma [...] my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper. and as if my ruine were profitable to them, they prepare ambushes for me upon the way, and take their aime so well, that there being no one to succour mee, they have the better, and they [Page 279]alwayes finde themselves the stronger.

The Torrents run not with so much fury when they break their Banks and overflow the fields, They came upon me as a wide break­ing in of wa­ters: in the desolation they rolled them­selves upon me. as they powred upon me, when God took away the Bound, which kept them in, and gave them permission to assault me.

At these rude assaults I saw my self reduced to nothing, Terrours are turned up­on me: they pursue my soul­as the wind: & my welfare passeth away as a cloud. my hopes which I esteemed so much more just, as they were founded upon the Inte­grity of my Actions and the Truth of the promises of God, lost themselves like the wind, and the happinesse which I tasted dispersed like a cloud, which the Sun raiseth and dis­sipateth the same day.

With my hopes my strength abandoned me, And now my soule is poured our upon me; the dayes of affli­ction have ta­ken hold upon me. for I feele no more that vigour which pro­mised me a long life, my soul is grown feeble with my bo­dy, and my best dayes being [Page 280]past, there remaine none but mournfull ones, where plea­sures never succeed afflicti­ons.

The night it self destined for repose gvies me no truce, My bones are pierced in me in the night season; and my sinews take no rest. for when I think to shut my eyes, I am assaulted with those mor­tall paynes which the misera­ble feel when they are broken upon the wheele: and if at a­ny time sleep would sweeten them, there issues out of my soares a swarme of wormet, which devour me, and as my fl [...]sh cannot satisfie them, all my Arts cannot charme them.

Their number is so prodigi­ous, By the great force of my disease, is my garment changed: it bindeth me a­bout as the col­lor of my coat. that when they cannot finde wherewithall to feed themselves in my entralls, they gnaw my garments, and as it were to repair the damage which they have made, they cover me all over, and serve me themselves for cloaths.

In this deplorable Condi­tion, [Page 281] Hee hath cast mee into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes. which may beget pity in the hearts of my enemies, I am so changed, that it seems that my miseries preventing the cruelty of death, have al­ready reduced me into dust and ashes.

As I well know so great an evill can finde no remedy upon earth, I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me, I stand up, & thou regard­est me not. I lift my voyce to heaven, and addresse my complaints to you the onely support of the afflicted: but either you do not hear them, or else you despise them: I present my selfe before you, Protectour of the miserable, but you regard me not, or else you disdain me.

Of a faithfull friend who bore a part in my interest, Thou art become cruell to me, with thy strong hand thou opposest thy self against mee. you are changed into a cruell enemy, who laughs at my sor­rows: and that hand where­with you afflict me is no more the hand of a good Father, which corrects his children; [Page 282]but the hand of an incensed Prince, who revengeth him­self of his Subjects.

You have not raised mee, Thou lift­est me up to the wind: thou causest mee to ride upon it, & dissolvest my substance. but that my fall might be heavier: In the birth of my greatnesse you meditated the designe of my ruine; and you have not made mee walk up­on the windes, but to dash my head against the Rocks when you shall throw mee down.

Finally, For I know that thou wilt bring mee to death, and to the house ap­pointed for all living. I know that you will deliver me to Death, and that your anger will give me no truce, till it hath sent mee into those lad places where Nature hath taken up quarters for all men.

Yet it is not your custome to persecute them to death; Howbeit, hee wil not stretch out his hand to the grave, though they cry in his destruction. you raise them up, when you have cast them down, and you appear more powerfull to save them than to ruine them: wherefore I promise [Page 283]my self that your persecution will end sooner then my life, and that if I have lived in your discountenance, I shall die in your favour.

The care which I have had of the miserable keeps mee in this hope; Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soule grieved for the poor? for I mixt my weeping with their tears; their miseries made mine, and my soul was so sensible of their sorrows, that to see us together, it would have been hard to judge which had been more afflicted.

But alas! When I looked for good, than e­vil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. Heaven hath de­ceived my hopes; for when I expected nothing but good, there is come nothing but e­vill; when I promised my self an happy fortune, there is nothing come to mee but disgrace: those fair dayes which I hoped for have pro­duced but obscure nights, and Divine Providence hath made us know, that if our ex­pectations [Page 284]are false, our conjectures are not more true.

This unexpected misfor­tune hath put all my Passi­ons into so furions a disor­der, My bow­els boiled and rested not: the days of afflicti­on prevented me. that the warre which they make with mee can have no truce; my minde cannot calm their fury, because the affliction which surprized it, gave it no leisure to defend it selfe; and it perceived it self ingaged to fight, when it thought on nothing but peace.

So doe I all the actions of a man whom Passion ma­sters; I went mourning without the Sun; I stood up, and I cried in the Congre­gation. for as I know well that my death is inevitable, I wear mourning for my self, I never walk in publick, but the tears of my eyes dis­cover the displeasures of my heart; my mouth is always open for sighs, and grief ma­king me lose respect, I cry out [Page 285]in company, as well as in the Deserts.

But all my complaints are unprofitable: I am a brother to dra­gons, and a companion to owls. for it seems my neerest neighbours have left their sweetnesse to put on the nature of Dragons, and my friends have despoyl­ed themselves of their senses, to habit themselves with the disposition of Ostriches, which they say, have so little love, that they have none for their young ones.

Notwithstanding, My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burnt with heat. one neede but look upon mee to have compassion of my miseries, and without alledging their Reasons, the sight of my countenance might touch them with pity; for my skin is more tanned then the peo­ple which inhabit Ethiopia, and my bones destitute of their vigour, are dryer, then if the fire had burnt them.

Finally, to comprehend [Page 286]in a few words all the Hi­story of my miseries: My harp also is turned to mourn­ing, & my or­gan into the voice of them that weep. It is sufficient to tell you, that my pleasures are changed in­to pains, that my conditi­on is more miserable then it was happy, that my Lute is no longer fit but for me­lancholy Ayres, and that all those instruments which ser­ved for to divert me are con­demned either to sigh or to be silent.

CHAP. XXXI.

AS there is nothing more sweet to the afflicted then complaints, there is nothing more agreeable to oppressed Innocents, then the thought of their Innocence: where­fore I will entertain you with mine, and make you an am­ple relation of the vertues which I have practised during my good fortune. I made a covenant with mine eys; why then should I think upon a maid? I had made [Page 288]an agreement with my eyes that their Glances should no [...] seduce my soul, and not only that they should not consider those lost women, whose al­lurements engage men in sin but that they should not stay upon those innocent face whose beauty hath neither paint, nor designe of Malice.

For I considered that if I give my selfe up to impurity God who cannot endure it would withdraw himself from me, For what portion of God is there from above? and what inheri­tance of the Almightie from on high? and that my bod [...] being infected with this [...] my soule should never be ho­noured with his grace.

I was not ignorant also th [...] the Ruine of impure souls [...] inevitable, Is not de­struction to the wicked? & a strange pu­nishment to the workers of iniquity? that Heaven de­clares war to those who per­secute Chastity, and if it ha [...] aversion from all other si [...] ners, it hath hatred and ho [...] rour for the unchaste; A [...] although this sort of people [Page 289]search for darknesse and that they can hardly discover them, yet I pretend not to abuse the God whom I serve, for I know well that he sees my thoughts, that he counts my steps, and that I doe no­thing which he knowes not better than my selfe.

So is it no trouble to me to discover to him the condition of my soule, If I have walked with vanity, or if my foot hath hasted to de­ceit. nor to appeare before his Tribunall to heare my Sentence: wherefore if my words have been double, if my mouth have not been the faithfull interpreter of my heart, and if I have not dealt sacerely with men.

I am content that he exa­mine me according to rigor, Let me be weighed in an even ba­lance, that God may know mine integrity to the end that if he finde me guilty he may make me serve for an example, and if he finde me just, he may publish my [...]nnocence, and give it the crown which it deserves.

If wandring from my du­ty I have neglected his com­mands, If my step hath turned out of the way, & mine heart walked after mine eyes, and if any blot hath cleaved to my hands: if my heart hath fol­lowed mine eyes, if its moti­ons have been regulated by their glances, if I have desi­red the goods which I have seene, and in my actions or in my thoughts they have obser­ved injustice.

I will have the trouble of sowing, Then let me sowe, and let another ear, yea let my off­spring be root­ed out. and let another have the pleasure of reaping, I will worke and let another gather the fruits of my la­bour; and I consent that all the trees which my hands have planted be torne up by the hands of my enemies.

If my heart have let it self be caught with those attracti­ons wherewith women de­lude us, If mine heart have bin deceived by a woman, or if I have laid wait at my neigh­bours door. if their beauty hath got into my eyes, if their friendship hath served as a co­vering for my passion, and if I have entred into the house [Page 291]of my friend for to defile his bed, and deceive his wife.

I will receive the same af­front, Then let my wife grinde unto another, and let others bow down up­on her. and may mine as ma­ny times as she hath sworne to me, let her selfe be corrup­ted by those who shall solli­cite her; and may my sinne which hath served her for ex­ample, serve her also for excuse.

There needs no lesse a pu­nishment for so great a crime, For this is an heinous crime, yea it is an iniquity to be punished by the judges. and the disorders which it causes in families, joyned with the scandall which it gives to all husbands, deserves well to be punished with the losse of honour.

'Tis a fire which burnes hearts, For it is a fire that con­sumeth to de­struction, and would root out all my in­crease. and which consumes houses, Heaven which pro­portions the punishments to the sinne, imployes its thun­ders to chastize it, and suffers the children descended from [Page 292]those unlawfull loves to pe­rish miserably.

If I have refused to heare the complaints of my slaves, If I did despise the cause of my manservant, or of my maid-servant, when they contend­ed with me. if I have not permitted them to alleadge me reasons to ju­stifie them in their faults, If I have not treated them rather like a Father than a Master, I submit my selfe to all the paines wherewith Heaven pu­nishes Tyrants.

But in the sentiments which God hath given me, What then shall I do when God riseth up? and when he visi­teth, what shal I answer him. I did not care for chastizing them with rigour, for I knew well enough that for being a Master, I did not leave to be a Subject, and that I had a Soveraigne whom I should be much troubled to answer, when he should de­mand an accompt of my acti­ons, and enter into judgement with me.

I considered also that if our condition were different, Did not he that made me in the womb, make him? and did not one fashi­on us in the womb? out birth was alike, and that the [Page 293]honour of being formed by the hand of God, was com­mon to me with the least of my slaves.

If I have neglected the ne­cessities of the poore, If I have withheld the poore from their desire, or have caused the eyes of the widow to sail; If I have sent them back with a shame­full deny all, or if they have not received from me all that they have desired; If I have made the poore widowes lan­guish, and not given to the importunity of their prayers, what I owe to the misery of their condition.

If out of avarice or pride, Or have eaten my mor­sell my self a­lone, and the fatherlesse hath not eaten thereof. I have eaten alone at my Ta­ble, and if I have not given part to the Orphans of the meat which they served me up, may Heaven which feeds our Lands with its influences, leave mine unfruitfull.

But this cruelty is far from my humour, (For from my youth he was brought up with me, as with a fa­ther, & I have guided her from my mo­thers womb. for mercy is so naturall to me, that me thinks we tumble in the same belly, [Page 294]that we were born together, and that like two twins we sucked the same milk.

Finally, If I have seene any pe­rish for want of clothing, or any poor with­out covering. I consent that God punish me, if judging of men by their habits, I have despi­sed the poore who were not well covered, or if I have made any difficulty to assist with my favour those who were commendable but for their misery.

But every one knowes that the wooll of my flocks hath defended them from the ri­gour of winter, If his [...]oins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with he fleece of my sheep. and that for having charitably clothed their bodies, I have received a thousand benedictions from their mouths.

If while I presided in the Assemblies where my words were Decrees, If I have lift up my hand against the fa­thersesse when I faw my help in the gate. and where the Soveraigne Authority which I exercised permitted not that I had Arbiters or Correctors; Then let mine arm fall from my shoul­der blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone. If (I say) in this supreame [Page 295]power I have ill treated the Orphans, or lifted up my hands to strike them, I would that guilty part may be torne from my body, that the arme which hath been an accom­plice in its sinne, may par­take in its punishments; and that to strike terrour in all Judges that abuse their pow­er, it may be broken by the infamous hands of the hang­man.

But though my inclination had not kept me far from this crime, For de­struction from God was a ter­tor to me, and by reason of his highnesse I could not en­dure. the feare which I have of God would easily have diverted me from it, for I have alwayes apprehended the weight of his arme, and Sea men feare not so much the tempests of the Sea, as I stand in awe of his anger.

I will suffer that he aban­don me, If I have made gold my hope, or have said to the fine gold, Thou art my confidence and refuse me his assistance in my misfortune, if I have put my confidence [Page 296]in my silver, if I have perswa­ded my selfe that gold was the strength of my state, If I re­joyced because my wealth was great, and be­cause my hand had gotten much. and if I have thought that I was more puissant than my neigh­bours, because I was more rich.

I oblige my self to the same punishment, If I be­held the Sun when it shi­ned, or the moon walking in brightnesse: if the estate which my Predecessors have left me, or that which mine own cares have acquired me, have given me any vanity, and if when Heaven hath blessed my lands, and augmented my flocks, they have seene me more joy­full or more insolent, if I have superftitiously looked upon the Sun when at his ri­sing he discovers all his beau­ty, and when the people of the earth prostrate themselves to adore him, or if with Ido­latrous eyes I have looked up­on the Moone, when she is in the full, and marcheth over our heads with so much pompe and light.

If the sight of those two slarres have given me senti­ments either of respect or joy, And my heart hath bin secretly enti­ced, or my mouth hath kissed my hand. if their beauty have perswa­ded me that they were the Gods of the world, and if lowing my head, or kissing my hand, I have reverenced their greatnesse, and implored their assistance. This al­so were an ini­quity to be punished by the Judge: for I should have denyed the God that is a­bove. If I have com­mitted this crime which sur­passeth all others, and which endeavours to drive God from his Throne, to deface his Name out of the minds of men, and to render his crea­tures an honour which is due onely to Him, I would that Heaven might chastize this sinne with an eternity of mi­series.

If the ruine of mine ene­mies hath rejoyced me, If I re­joyced at the destruction of him that hated me, for l [...]t up my self when evill found him. and if by a notorious basenes, which cannot fall upon a great con­rage, their miseries have be­gotten my pleasures, and the [Page 298]ill successe of their affaires, hath given me contentment, I will perish with them.

I make this imprecation so much the more boldly, (Neither have I snffer­ed my mouth to sin, by wish­ing a curse to his soul.) as I know that my tongue was ne­ver given to detraction, and that my heart hath never for­med any wishes which were prejudiciall to the safety of my enemies.

Notwithstanding I wanted neither power nor occasion to revenge my self, If the men of my ta­bernacle said not, Oh that we had of his flesh! we can­not be satisfi­ed. for I had not any about my house but would have cut them in pee­ces if I had desired it, and who to repaire my honour, on content my passion, would no [...] have devoured them.

If I have kindely treated mine enemies, The flran­ger did not lodge in the street: but I opened my doors to the traveller. I have no lesse courteously received strangers, for I never suffered them to passe the nights in the fields, and without inquiring of their condition or their birth, it [Page 299]was sufficient that they were Travellers to oblige me to o­pen them the gates of my house.

If I have concealed any sin, If I have covered my transgression as Adam: by hiding my ini­quity in my bosom. like that unhappy man, whose children we are, and if I have preferred a little honour be­fore the repose of my consci­ence, and if I have hidden my faults and would passe for in­nocent, though I were guilty.

If I have been afraid of the people, Did I seare a great multitude, or did the con­tempt of fami­lies terrifie me: that I kept silence, & went not out of the door? and if their tumults have made me change my good designes, if the con­tempt which they have had of mine Alies hath given me resentment, or if rather kee­ping filence and staying at home, I have not let their dif­ferences be determined by dis­interested Judges, I condemne my selfe to the punishment which this injustice may de­serve.

But I reade in your coun­tenances Oh that one would hear me! be­hold, my desire is, that the Al­mighty would answer me, and that mine ad­versary had written a book [Page 300]that these true dis­courses finde no belief in your minde, so that your incredu­lity makes me wish, that God would give me more reasona­ble Auditors, or that he him­selfe who ought to judge me, would write down my com­plaints and make a booke of them, Surely I would take it upon my shoulder, and binde it as a crown to me. to the end that I might tye it upon my shoulders, and that it might serve me for or­nament, or that I might put it upon my head, and that it might serve me for a crowne, that it might publish mine in­nocence and protect me from your calumnies. Wheresoever I go it shall be mine onely com­fort, and to give it the more credit I will present it to some Prince which shall cause it to be read in his Dominion, and make mine innocence as knowne, as it is hidden.

But because you accuse me of tyranny, If my sand cry a­gainst me, or that the fur­rows likewise thereof com­plain: and that your [Page 301]discourses are all full of re­proaches, know, that if the Lands are desert long of me, and if the abandoned fur­rowes complaine of my vio­lence, If I have eaten the fruits thereof with­out money, or have caused the owners thereof to lose their life: if I have deprived the husbandmen of their hopes, or if making the labours of their hands unprofitable, I have afflicted their minds, and drawne teares from their eyes, Let thi­stles grow in­stead of wheat, and cockle in stead of bar­ley. The words of Job are ended. I am content that heaven curse my lands, that their sterility may not be conquered by those that cultivate them, that for wheat they may give me but thistles, and that for the barley which I shall sowe, they may bring but thornes.

CHAP. XXXII.

THose three persons broke up the confe­rence, So these three men cea­sed to answer Job, because he was righte­ous in his own eyes. and replyed no more to Job, whether perswaded by his reasons they beleeved that he was innocent, or whether, as it is more probable, they lost all hope of making him con­fesse that he was guilty.

A young man, Then was kindled the wrath of Eli­hu the son of Barachel the Buzite, of the kindred of Ram: against Job was his wrath kindled, because he ju­stified himself rather than God. the sonne of [Page 303] Barachel, of the Countrey of Buz, and of the family of R [...], who had been present at all this dispute, grew an­gry at Job, and was princi­pally offended that he persist­ed in his first beliefe, which perswaded him that he was just, and that God himselfe could not condemne him for his sinne.

He was angry likewise at Jobs friends, Also a­gainst bis three friends was his wrath kindled, be­cause they had found no answer, and yet had condemn­ed Job. that they were not able to finde good rea­sons to oppose him, and that passing the bounds of a con­ference where every one faire­ly defends his opinion, they medled with condemning him, and tooke no paines to convince him.

Yet he patiently heard the discourses of the one, Now Eli­hu had waited till Job had spoken, be­cause they were elder than he. and the answer of the other, because being the youngest, he belie­ved that he owed this respect to their age, and was obliged [Page 304]to heare them whilest they spoke.

When E­lihu saw that there was no answer in the mouth of these three men, then his wrath was kindled. But when he saw that the eloquence of Job triumphed over their wisdome, and that their filence accompanied with confusion was a tacite and knowledgement of their de­feat, he grew more angry than before, and transported with his passion, he sayes to them very briskely:

As I am younger than you, And Eli­hu the son of Barachel the Buzite answer­ed and said, I am young, and ye are very old, wherefore I was afraid; and durst not shew you mine opinion. your age hath made me reve­rence your discourses, and mine hath made me contemn my owne thoughts, where­fore with my head bowed, and a soule filld with a respective feare, I did not dare to tell you my opinion of the subject upon which you dispute.

I said Dayes should speak, & mul­titude of yeers should teach wisdom. For I hoped that your wis­dome would furnish you with reasons for to convince this obstinacy, and that the num­ber of yeares which give you [Page 305]so much advantage over young men, would instruct you some way of happily de­termining your conference, and would discover to you arts from which this unhap­py man could not defend him­selfe.

But for ought I can learne, But there is a spirit in man: and [...]he inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding. it is the Spirit of God which furnisheth us with good things, and that it is its moti­on rather than our reason which gives us overtures to win the hearts of men, which heare us.

Prudence is not alwaies ti­ [...]d to age, Great men are not alwaies wise: neither do the aged under­stand judge­ment. and though know­ledge be the daughter of time, [...] doth not alwaies happen, that the most aged are the most learned, and experience [...]eacheth us, that as we see old fooles, we see likewise [...]oung wise men.

There­fore I said, Hearken to me, I also will shew mine o­pinion. Wherefore leaving that [...]ashfull respect which hin­derd [Page 306]me from speaking in so notable an occasion, I will invite you to heare me, and a [...] I know God gives nothing but to communicate it to ou [...] friends, I desire you to take part of that light which I have received from his bount [...] ▪

The long filence which [...] afforded you, Behold, I waited for your words; I gave cat to your reasons, whilest you searched out what to say. obligeth you to heare me, for you know tha [...] during your contestations, [...] did not interrupt you, and my patience hath endured a [...] long as your entertainments.

Yea, I attended unto you: and be­hold, there was none of you that con­vinced Job, or that answered his words: I gave you my attention a [...] long as I beleeved that you had any reasons left to defend the cause of God; but fo [...] ought I know there is not on [...] of you can answer the Dis­courses of Job, nor alledge good proofes to perswade him that he is guilty.

And do not say to excuse your silence, Lest ye should say, Wee have found out wis­dome: God thrusteth him downe, not man. that you have sufficiently convinced him [...] [Page 307]since you have made him con­sesse that his disaster is an ef­fect of Gods Justice, which cannot be mistaken, and not of the anger of men who may be abused.

Now he hath not dire­cted his words against me [...]nei­ther will I an­swer him with your speeches. I know that he hath not medled with me in his dis­courses, and that all the re­proaches which he hath used to you, do not touch my ho­nour, nor is it my interest but Gods which makes me speak; and because your reasons could gaine nothing upon his minde, I will alledge you some others, and assault him with new weapons.

For if he hath been hither­to victorious, They were amazed, they answered no more, they left off speak­ing. it is rather through your cowardise than his owne courage; his an­swers have amazed you, When I had waited, (for they spake not, but stood still & answer­ed no more. be­cause he hath replyed upon you more boldly than a Ma­lefactor ought, and this thought hath shut your [Page 308]mouths, and made your dis­courses cease. Since then I have vainly expected, and you have not spoke, since you have basely abandoned Gods side [...] and by your silence yeelded the victory to his enemy.

I will speake for to supply your default, I said, I will answer also my part, I also will shew mine o­pinion. and treat with Job in my turne, that by the force of my eloquence I may oblige him to confesse, that if he hath had the better, i [...] is because you knew not how to assault him, nor defend you [...] selves.

I have so many reasons to convince him, For I am full of matter, the spirit with­in me constrai­neth me. that I do not so much apprehend the event of the fight, as the flight of my enemy: The subject which I must treat on furnisheth me with so many thoughts, that my minde hath no trouble but to marshall them, and my mouth hath so many words for to expresse them, that I [Page 309]must strive to keep them in.

In the violent desire which [...] have to speak, Behold, my belly is as wine which hath no vent, it is ready to burst like new bottels. methinks my [...]eart is like those new wines which have been tunned up, [...]nd which having no vent [...]o evaporate their steames, [...]oyle with fury and burst the [...]essels, which take away their [...]berty.

I will then open my mouth [...]o discharge my heart a little, I will speak that I may be re­freshed: I will open my lips, and answer. [...] will give way to my words, that I may breathe more free­ [...]y, and I desire you to take [...]rt of my thoughts to assist you in your needs, and to ease me in my abundance.

I first protest to you, Let me not, I prey you, accept any mans person, neither let me give flattering titles unto man. that inspect and shame shall not [...]inder me from speaking truth, and without having re­gard to the condition of those who heare me, I will speake freely, and not give to men in my discourse those glorious gualities which belong onely to God.

For I know not to give flattering titles, in so do­ing my Maker would soone take me away. Though reason did not oblige me to have these thoughts, the feare of the fu­ture would cause them in me; for I know not how long I must live, the day of my death is as hidden as it is certaine, and without conferring with my Creator, I cannot foresee when he will take me out of the world.

CHAP. XXXIII.

ELihu, Where­fore Job, I pray thee, hear my speeches, and hearken to all my words. who judged that his Auditors were disposed to heare him, and that there remained not any thing more to prepare the minde of Job, said to him:

As you are most interested in the cause, you are most ob­iged to heare me; lend your [Page 312]eare then to my discourses, and despise not reasons which as well regard the good of your soule, as the honour of God.

Behold, now I have opened my mouth, my tongue hath spoken in my mouth. Behold then I open my mouth to speake to you with liberty, and I oblige my tongue to furnish me with words, which ought to be so much the lesse suspected as they are mine, and as I shall imploy them for truth onely, and not for the passion of your enemies.

My words shall be of the uprightesse of my heart: and my lips shall utter know­ledge clearly. You shall see by the since­rity of my discourse that my designe is not to confound you, but to instruct you: with this right intention, I shall de­duce my reasons so cleerely, that it shall be no trouble to you to comprehend them.

The Spi­rit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life. Those promises which I make you must not seeme im­possible to you, since it is the Spirit of God which makes [Page 313]me speake, and my tongue being but the interpreter of his thoughts, my eloquence is more divine than human.

If thou canst answer me, set thy words in or­der before me, stand up. But doe not beleeve that in the lists where we enter I would have all the advan­tage be on my side, I desire that our weapons may be equall, that you may fight with all your forces, that you turne not away your face, and that it be permit­ted you as well to assault me, as to defend your selfe.

Behold, I am according to thy wish in Gods stead: I also am for­med out of the clay. And certainely the match is very equall, for if God be your. Father he is also mine, if we are his Children we are Brothers, and if he hath moulded my body of dirt, he hath not formed yours of a more noble matter.

Behold, my tertour shall not make thee afraid, neither shall my hand be heavie up­on thee. I beseech you onely that the wonders which I shall tell you, may not astonish you, that that heat which [Page 314]accompanies the discourses of young men may give you no alarum, and that the elo­quence wherewith heaven hath favoured me, may not render suspected the truth which I shall declare.

But for feare you should beleeve that I would make monsters to destroy them, Surely thou hast spo­ken in mine hearing, and I have heard the voice of thy words, saying, and put false opinions upon you to oppose them, I shall faithfully relate them in the same words, which you ser­ved your selfe with to make us comprehend them.

You have said with more insolence then truth, I am clean without trans­gression, I am innocent, nei­ther is there iniquity in me. that your heart was pure, that sinne had never sullied it that all your intentions had been good, and that you [...] actions had not been lesse in­nocent; that heaven ha [...] sought cccasions to hurt you that without having found reall sinnes which it migh [...] [Page 315]justly punish, it had fained imaginary ones, and that making your complaints passe for crimes, it had treated you as rigorously, as if you had been its enemy.

That to secure it selfe of you as they doe of Malefa­ctors, Behold, he findeth oc­casions against me, he count­eth me for his enemy. it was not content to put irons upon your legges, but it had put salve to spy all your actions, He put­teth my feetin the stocks, he marketh all my paths. and set Guards upon you to relate unto it all your words.

These discourses are blas­phemies, Behold, in this thou art not just: I wil answer thee, that God is greater then man. but least you should thinke that I will sence my selfe rather with authority then reason, I shall tell you that the Majesty of God ob­ligeth us to reverence all his designes, and that his great­nesse forbids us for to con­demne [Page 316]his judgements.

You pretend that he doth wrong, Why dost thoustrive against him? for he giveth not account of any of his mat­ters. and that his procee­ding is unjust, because he de­spiseth your words, and an­swers not to all the reproaches which you use in the resent­ment of your griefes.

But besides that these inju­rious complaints oblige not him to reply to you, For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man percei­veth it not. know that his greatnesse dispenseth with him for speaking so of­ten, and that when he hath once made us to understand his will, nothing obligeth him to informe us of it anew, and when he hath given us any advice, we ought to fol­low it, and not to demand any other.

Sometimes he advertiseth men in the night, In a dreame, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep fal­leth upon men, in slumbrings upon the bed: and when Ghosts fly through the Ayre, and that all is filled with darknesse and dreames, and that rest charmes the sences, [Page 317]and that men plunged in sleep, are neither in the num­ber of the living nor the dead.

He speakes secretly to the eares of their heart, Then he openeth the ears of men, & sealeth their destruction. whilst those of their body are shut up, and in a condition where it seemes they are uncapable of apprehending any thing he declares to them his will, and by imaginations which he paints in their fancies he afflicts or comforts them.

As he labours for their sal­vation as well as for his owne honour, That he may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide pride from man. he gives them this advice but to make them bet­ter, for whether it be to withdraw them from their finne, or for to deliver them from the pride which tyran­nizes over them, and make them free in making them become humble.

Or whether it be to adver­tise them of the misfortune [Page 318]which threatens them, He keep­eth back his soule from the pit, and his life from pe­rishing by the sword. in­forme them of the bad de­signe of their enemies, dis­cover to them the treasons which they plot against them, and preserve them from a vio­lent and suddaine death.

He speakes to them also sometimes by griefes, He is chastened also with paine up­on his bed, and the multitude of his bones with strong paine. and serves himselfe with diseases to instruct them, he takes from them the power of do­ing evill, so that he may take from them the desire of it, and commands a languishing Feaver to burne their en­trailes, and to consume that moysture which nourisheth the bones, and conserveth life.

You shall see them then in bed dejected and distasted, So that his life abhor­teth bread, and his soule dainty meart. the best meats displease them, Bread which is the most in­nocent of Elements, and which changeth it selfe most easily into our substance [...]au­seth [Page 319]aversion in them, and those delicate meats which they sought so passionately, are no lesse horrid to them then poyson.

When the Malady conti­tues, their colour changes, His flesh is consumed a­way that it cannot beseen, and his bones that were not seen, stick out. their favour vanishes, they become so leane that the bones pierce­ing the ski [...]me, they seeme rather Skeletons than men: Physitians give them over, those which see the loathsome symptomes which accompa­ny their disease, judge it mortall, and beleeve that without a Miracle they can­not escape.

But whilest every one de­spaires of their life, If there be a messenget with him, an interpreter, one among a thousand, to shew unto man his uprightnes: that An­gel which hath been chosen out of a thousand to be their Tutelar, undertakes to con­vert them, and to defend them.

The Majesty of God which takes pleasure in being over­come [Page 320]by the prayers of hi [...] people will give him charge to cure them, Then he is gracious un­to him, and saith, Deliver him from going downe to the pit, I have found a ran­some. and his Mercy which is ingenious in oblige­ing them will finde some­thing in their persons where­with to satisfie his Justice, His flesh shall befresher then a childes: he shall return to the days of his youth. it will ordaine that their body which hath been consumed by sicknesse be established in its former vigour, and that by secrets which Physick and Nature doe not know, it be restored to that beauty which it possessed in its prime.

Then their Sicknesses, He shall pray unto God, and he will be favourable un­to him, and he shall see his face with joy: for he wil ren­der unto man his righteous­nesse. joy­ning their prayers with those of their good Angels shall make heaven propitious to them, and not to be ingrate­full for so rare a favour, they shall thanke God in his Tem­ple with a thousand testimo­nies of joy, which shall be followed with a perfect cure of their body and of their soule.

As a true repentance is al­waies accompanied with a humble confession, He look­eth upon men, and if any say, I have sinned, and perverted that which was right, and it profited me not: they shall publish aloud the goodnesse of God, and the excesse of their offence; they shall say every where we have sinned against heaven, and with whatsoever punishment we have been chastised we pro­test that it hath been lesse then our crime.

So by an innocent cunning they deliver themselves from the misfortune which threat­ned them, He will deliver his soule from go­ing into the pit, and his life shall see the light. preserve their bo­dy and their soule from a double death, and procure themselves by their repen­tance a double life.

See the order which God observes for to convert sin­ners, Lo, all these things worketh God oftentimes with man. and the divers meanes which he uses to reduce them to their duty, To bring back his soule from the pit, to be enlighte­ned with the light of the li­ving. but their ma­lice must not entertaine it selfe in a rash confidence, for [Page 322]when he hath touched them twice or thrice without effect, they must feare least his boun­ty grow weary, and that the contempt which they make of his favours oblige him not to refuse them.

Learne then these secrets af­flicted Prince, Marke well, O Job, hearken unto me, hold thy peace, and I will speak. hearken peace­ably to him, which discovers them to you, and since all this discourse is so profitable to your Soule, rouse up your attention, and continue your silence.

If notwithstanding you have any good reply to make me, If thou hast any thing 20 say, answer me: speak, for I desire to ju­ [...]fie thee. I am ready to heare it, and obliging my selfe to the same Lawes which I have prescribed you, I will patienly heare all your Reasons, for passion possesseth not my soule, and you cannot doe me a greater pleasure, then to per­swade me that you are in­nocent.

But if you cannot doe it, If not, hearken unto me: hold thy peace, and I shall teach thee wisdom. and if you want colours to palliate so bad a cause as yours I am content to speake in your favour, and to teach you true wisedome, pro­vided that on your part you also persever in the designe of hearkning to me.

CHAP. XXXIV.

ELihu continued his discourse, Further­more Elihu answered and said, and ac­companied it with all the exteriour graces which make an Ora­tour agreeable, and which charme the sences of the Au­ditors, to make his reasons passe with more delight into their mindes.

Wise men saith he, Heare my words, O ye wise men, and give eare unto me, ye that have know­ledge. who have intelligence of all divine and humane things, observe exactly my thoughts, and you learned men, whose minde knowledge and travaile po­lisheth, hearken carefully what I have to tell you.

For as the taste discernes meats, approves the good, For the eat [...]eth words, as the mouth tasteth meat. and condemnes the bad, so the eare judges of words, re­jects he false, and receives the true.

Call then your minde to the succour of your sences, Let us chuse to us judgement: let us know among our selveswhat is good. for to make a judgement which is not passionate, and despoy­led of your in terest choose that which shall seeme to you the best, and the most just.

Remen ber that Job hath bragged of being innocent, For Job hath said, I am righteous: and God hath taken away my judgement. and that by a blasphemy, which his vanity hath drawn from his mouth, he hath said that God would not doe him [Page 326]Justice, Should I lie against my right? my wound is in­curable with­out transgres­sion. and that he had searched pretences, that he might not give him audi­ence, that being overcome by his importunities he had at last pronounced his Sentence, but that it was conceived in tearmes which made apparent the injustice of it, and that he suffered punishments which made knowne the rigour of it.

Remember also the qua­lity of the Personage, What man is like Job, who drinketh up scorning like water? which makes these unreasonable complaints, and see how he hath not his equall in impu­dence, and how having lost all sence of honour, he drinkes affronts, and blushes not at it.

How without shame hee walkes publikely with lost men, Which goeth in com­pany with the workers of i­niquity, and walketh with wicked men. and priding in his sinne, he is very glad that it is knowne that he frequents not their companies, but be­cause he approves their opini­ons.

Lastly, For hee hath said, It profiteth a man nothing, that he should de­light himselfe with God. remember that he hath sayed, that the God whom you adore is too hard to be served; that a man, whatever paines he takes, cannot oblige him, that he is their enemy who obey him, and persecutes them as well as those who offend him.

Wherefore (wise and ge­nerous Personages) I conjure you by the interests of God, There­fore hearken unto me ye men of under­standing: far be it from God, that he should do wickednes, and from the Almighty, that he should com­mit iniquity. which are so deare to you, to weigh the reasons wherewith I pretend to cleare him from these calumnies, and to make you plainely see, that injustice and impiety cannot lodge in his person.

He treats men according to their merits, For the work of a man shall he render unto him: and cause every man to finde according to his wayes. and whether he recompence, or punish them, he regulates himselfe by their actions, and never pronounceth sentence, but he consults his Justice.

As he is good, Yea, surely God wil not do wick­edly, neither will the Al­mightypervert indgement. he chastise­eth [Page 328]no man without cause, and resembles not those So­veraignes who faine crimes that they may punish them: as he is powerfull, he walkes upright in his Judgements, and imitates not those evill Judges, who let themselves be overcome by threats, or corrupted by presents.

If then he hath punished you, Who hath given him a charge over the earth? or who hath dis­posed the whole world? you ought to beleeve that you are guilty, and you can­not cast the cause of your mis­fortune upon any other, fince the same, who made the world, governes it, and re­poseth none of his conduct neither in men, nor in An­gels.

And we must confesse that he governes it by his Justice tempered with his sweetnesse, If he set his heart upon man, if he ga­ther unto him­selfe his spirit & his breath; for if he used his Power only, or had a desire to overthrow­men, it would not be hard for him to take away the life, [Page 329]which he hath given them, nor in his fury to ruine a worke which he hath made but for his pleasure.

In this case all nature would perish, All flesh shall perishto­gether, & man shall turne a­gain unto dust and the body of man destitute of that spirit which animates it, would re­turne into its first condition, and become either earth, or ashes.

If then you have any wit left you, If now thou haste understanding, hearken to the veyce of my words. comprehend what I tell you: for to profit by my thoughts, hearken diligently to my words, and doe it so, that my eloquence may be glorious to me, and profitable to you.

How can you hope for your Cure since not loving Justice, Shall e­ven he that hareth right govern? and wilt thou con­demn him that is most just? you hate your reme­dy? How dare you pretend that God should be favoura­ble to you, since being Ju­stice it selfe he Condemnes you, and by an execrable at­tempt [Page 330]you would ruine his Honour to establish your own innocence?

Notwithstanding you know that he is so just, Is it fit to say to a King, Thou art wicked? & to a Prince, Ye are ungodly? that he par­dons not Monarchs them­selves, that without respecting their condition, he reproach­eth them either with the un­bridled license which they give themselves in their states, or with the worship of Idols which they entertaine a­mongst their subjects.

You are not ignorant that he hath no regard in his Judgements to the quality of persons, How much lesse to him that ac­cepteth nor the persons of princes, nor regardeth the rich more then the poor? for they are all the worke of his hands. and when great ones have any thing to doe with meane ones, he considers not the eminence of their conditi­on, but the goodnesse of their cause, for as he knowes well that they are the workes of his hand, he treats them e­qually, and doth them no more favour than his Justice permits him.

Thus it often happens that Princes receive their death, In a mo­ment shall they dye, and the people shall be trou­bled at mid­night, & passe away: and the mighty shall be taken away without hand. when they least feare it, that people revolt against their Soveraignes, that by the fa­vour of the night they make meetings, that they enter into their Palaces, surprize them without their Guards, and take away their lives to reco­ver their liberty.

For whatsoever impunity the wicked promise them­selves, For his eyes are upon the wayes of man, and he seeth all his goings. God hath alwaies his eyes open upon their actions, and when he seemes to be most busie in the conduct of the Universe, There is no darknesse, nor shadow of death, where the workers of iniquity may hide them­selves. he failes not to marke all their steps, and to consider all their thoughts: the night hath not darknesse thick enough, nor the Regi­on of Death shadowes blacke enough to hide them, and steale from his eyes the impie­ties which they commit.

For he wil not lay up­on man more then right; that he should en­ter into judge­ment with God. Besides his Decrees are so [Page 332]constant, that they cannot make them change, for as he who pronounceth them is Soveraigne, they cannot ap­peale from him to another Judge; and as he is alwaies equall they cannot hope that he will revoke them.

He produceth every day examples to establish this truth: He shall breake in pie­ces mighty men without number, and set others in their stead. for he breakes the heads of Tyrants, he gives them strangers, or enemies for their successours, and makes them see that he is absolute over all Monarchs, since he disposeth as he pleaseth, of their estates.

It is not though without knowledge of the cause, Therefore he knoweth their workes, and he over [...] turneth them in the night, so that they are destroyed. that he makes all these changes, for he punisheth not bad Princes, but after he hath weighed their Crimes, or if he over­throw their fortune, He strik­eth them as wicked menin the open fight of others: or cover their face with confustion, 'tis but to punish their impieties, [Page 333]and satisfie his Justice, if he make an example of them to the world, and if he chastise them in the fight of all their subjects, 'tis but to proporti­on their punishment to their sinne, and to expiate notori­ous crimes by publicke cha­stisements.

In a word, Because they turned back from him and would not consider any of his wayes. if he have pu­nished any of them in our Age, it was well knowne that they had lost all sence of Re­ligion, that it was not out of weaknesse but malice, So that they cause the cry of the poor to come unto him, and he heareth the cry of the af­flicted. that they had gone astray from him, that it was not out of ignorance, but designe that they had violated his Com­mandments, that they had not fained themselves to be ignorant of them, but to have the more liberty to per­secute the poore, and to con­straine the miserable to wash the earth with their tears, and importune heaven with their complaints.

Out of all this discourse it is easie to conclude, When he giveth qui­etnesse, who then can make trouble? and when he hide­eth his face, who then can behold him? whether it be done against a nation, or a­gainst a man onely: that the life and death of Kings de­pends upon the will of God, that when he permits them to raigne peaceably, there are no enemies which dare assault them; and on the contrary, when he abandons them, and hides his face from them, which he sheweth but to his Favourites, there are no sub­jects which daigne to regard them, nor which will defend them. At the sight of these truths all the world must con­fesse, that the cares of God extend over States, and Fa­milies, and that he watches over men in particular, and over people in generall.

He gives good proofe of this, That the hypoerite reign not, lest the people be ensnared. when to punish the sins of a Kingdome, he makes an Hypocrite raigne, who seek­eth in appearance the profit of his subjects, but in deed [Page 335]seeketh but their ruine and damage.

Now after I have maintai­ned the Cause of God, Surely it is meet to be said unto God, I have borne chastisement, I willnot offend any more. and deduced all the Reasons which my wit could furnish me with for the defence of his interests, I leave you rhe liberty of speaking in your turne, and am not just but in refusing you a favour which you have granted me.

If treating on so high a subject, I have been mistaken, That which I see not, teach thou me; if I have done iniquity, I will doe no more. you will oblige me to adver­tice me of it, and if trans­gressing from the respect which we owe that supreame Majesty, I have uttered any word which is unworthy of his Greatnesse; I will endea­vour to expiate it by my si­lence.

It is true that you ought to to pardon this fault, Should it be according to thy minde? he will recom­pence it, whe­ther thou re­fuse, or whe­ther thou chuse, and not I: therefore speake what thou knowest. since God himselfe whom you have offended doth not exact sa­tisfaction [Page 336]for all yours; and besides, you know that I have not continued this discourse, but because you have began it, and so as you have served me for an example, you ought to serve me for an excuse, if notwithstanding you have a­ny thing that's good to say, for to repaire both your faults and mine, speake and I will heare you.

In confesse to you though, Let men of understand­ing tell me, & let a wise man hearken unto me. if it were in my choyce, I should desire to treat with intelligent men, and I would that those who heare me and those, who answer me were equally rea­sonable.

For to speake to you my thoughts with freedome, Job hath spoken with­out know­ledge, and his words were without wis­dome. you have none of these qualities, you speake without discreti­on, and without respect, and all your discourses witnesse nothing but ignorance, and obstinacy.

Wherefore I conjure you O common Father of all men, My de­sire is that Job may be tried unto the end, because of his answers for wicked men. to tame the pride of Job by afflictions, to treat him like a slave, and not like a sonne, and to continue in your pu­tishrments, since he perseve [...]es in is blasphemies.

On our part we shall em­ploy all the advantages which we have received from your goodnesse to defend your Ju­stice: For he addeth rebel­lion unto his finne, he clap­peth his hands amongst us, and multipli­eth his words against God. but if this man be in­corrigible, and resist our rea­sons, we will leave him as a desperate sick-man, and we will suffer, not without much sorrow, that he provoke you to fight, and declare warre against your divine Provi­dence.

CHAP. XXXV.

ELihu, Elihu spake moreo­ver, and said: who knew well how to begin a discourse, but who knew not how to end it, continued his in this manner:

Doe you thinke that your Propositions are maintaine­able, Thinkest thou this to be right, that thou saidst, My righteous­nesse is more then Gods. that you have reason, when you will establish your innocence at the expence of Gods Justice, and by a pride which cannot enter but into [Page 339]the spirit of a Devill, you in­solently say, that you are more just than he?

For you cannot deny but your impudence hath drawne these blasphemies from your mouth: For thou saidst, What advantage will it be unto thee, and what profit shall I have if I be cleansed from my sinne? good and evill are e­qually indifferent to God, and as he is not obliged by respects, he is not offended by contempts.

As for me, I will an­swer thee, and thy compani­ons with thee. who cannot en­dure that so pernitious a dis­course remaine without re­ply, I will confute all the words of it, and condemne your friends, who approve it by their silence.

Lift up your eyes, Look un­to the hea­vens, and see & behold the clouds which are highe then thou. looke upon Heaven, and consider that it is so high, that they cannot assault it, that the distance which seperates it from us, warrants it from all our attempts, that the Ar­rows which they draw against it are not fatall, but to those [Page 340]which draw them, and that it is as secure against our out­rages, as it is elevated above our heads.

If you offend him whose Throne it is, If thou sinnest, what doest thou a­gainst him? or if thy trans­gressions be multiplied, what doest thou unto him? if you multiply your crimes for to satisfie the desire which you have to dis­please him, what injury will you doe his Glory, which de­pends not upon your opinion? what wrong will you doe his State, the peace or confusion whereof depends not but up­on his owne will?

Or if out of a better de­signe you serve him faithfully, If thou be righteous, what givest thou him? or what receiveth he of thine hand? what advantage shall he draw from your duty? If you load his Altars with Sacrifices, and if you enrich the Temples, which they have erected to his honour, what profit shall he receive thence, who accepts not our presents, but to re­turne them us backe with in­terest?

It is to man who is your e­quall that your injustice may be prejudiciall, Thy wic­kednesse may hurt a man as thou art, and thy righteous­nesse may pro­fit the son of man. and not to God who is your Soveraigne: it is to man I say, who hath nothing, and not to God who possesseth all things, that your bounty can be profi­table.

There need no other proofs to confirme this truth, By reason of the multi­tude of op­pressions, they make the op­pressed to cry they cry out by reason of the arm of the mighty. than the complaints of the miserable, whose reputation the calumny of detractors takes away, and the teares of those poore slaves, from whom the injustice and vio­lence of Tyrants force their liberty.

If Heaven sometime permit this oppression they ought not blame it, But none saith, Where is God my Maker, who giveth songs in the night? since they who have suffered it have well deserved it, for they had forgotten God, Who teacheth us more then the beasts of the earth, & make­eth us wiser then the fowls of heaven. and thought no more on him who in their first af­flictions had made them taste [Page 342]of delicacies more agreeable than those of Poetry and Mu­sick, and who denying them none of those favours where­with he obligeth men, had given them a thousand advan­tages over all the visible Crea­tures, for though Natur hath so well instructed living Creatures to seeke what is profitable for them, and taught the Birds to build their Nests with so much Art and symmetry, we must con­fesse, that men excell them in addresse, and know a thou­sand secrets whereof Beasts are ignorant.

If he heed not then all our vowes, There they cry, (but none giveth answer) be­cause of the pride of evill men. we must not inferre that it is in vaine that he heares them, but we must ra­ther conclude, that being just, Surely God will nor heare vanity, neither will the Almighty regard it. he examines the merit of those who make them, and refuseth their sinnes what he would grant to their prayers, [Page 343]so that if it seemes that he neglect the paines of the af­flicted, Although thou sayest thou shast not see him, yet judgement is before him, therefore trust thou in him. or dissemble the of­fences of the wicked, you ought not murmure, but sub­mit your selfe to his judge­ment, and expect with pati­ence till he deliver the one, and punish the other.

For at present as he raignes more like a Father than a Judge, But now because it is not so, he hath visited in his anger, yet h [...] knoweth it not in great extrea­mity. he dischargeth not his anger upon all those who provoke him, he equals not the punishment to the sins, and chastiseth not a crime so soon as it is committed; There­fore doth Job open his mouth in vain: he multiplieth words without knowledge. which makes me conclude, that Job complaines without reason, that he doth ill to accuse di­vine Providence, and that he is unjust to use so many inso­lent words to blame a con­duct, which all the world re­verenceth.

CHAP. XXXVI.

ELihu, Elihu also procee­ded, and said: who saw well that his te­diousnes might make him trou­blesome, and that the most part of his Au­ditors languished, awake­ned them by an artificiall ex­cuse, and become more elo­quent [Page 345]then he had been yet, returnes to his discourse in this manner:

If the interests of God are deare to you, Suffer me a little, and I wil shew thee, that I have yet to speake on Gods behalf. and if you are as jealous of his Glory, as he is carefull of your salvation, I conjure you to continue me yet a little that favourable si­lence, wherewith you have hitherto obliged me, for there are some reasons behinde, which I cannot omit without doing injury to the cause of him, of whom I have the ho­nour to be the Aduocate.

Permit me then to handle this subject as it deserves, I will fetch my knowledge from afar, and will ascribe righteousnesse to my Maker. and to deduce you the principles, whereof you have yet seene but the conclusions, I hope that your patience will not be unprofitable to you, and that your minde convinced by my reasons will acknowledge, that the God which we adore is not unjust.

I will search for no Arti­fices in my discourses, For truly, my words shal not be false: he that is per­fect in know­ledge is with thee. they shall have no other ornament then those of truth, they shall be simple and solid: with all these conditions I perswade my selfe that they will be agreeable to you, and that you will approve what you have hitherto condemned.

You imagine that God loves not the great, Behold, God is migh­ty, and despi­seth not any: he is mighty in strength and wisdome. because they are oftentimes unhappy, and that the highest fortunes are odious to him, because they are most frequently set upon; but if it be true that every one loves his like, you ought to beleeve that he hates not the great, since he is their Soveraigne, and that he hath no aversion from Kings, since they have the honour to be his Images.

It is true, He pre­serveth not the life of the wicked: but giveth right to the poore. as he preferres Piety before greatnesse, and makes more esteeme of vertue [Page 374]than of birth, he abandons Princes when they despise his Lawes, and takes the part of the poore when in their op­pression they implore his as­sistance.

Yet of what condition soe­ver the just are, He with­draweth not his eyes from the righteous: but with kings are they on the throne, yea, he doth establish them for ever, and they are exalted. he hath al­waies his eyes open to looke upon them: if Kings adde innocence to their Power he establishes their Thrones, sup­ports their Crownes, and procures them as much glory, as they render him obedience and submission.

If at any time they fall from their fortune, And if they be bound in fetters, and be holden in cords of affli­ction: if by the insurrection of their Subjects, or by the usurpation of their Neighbours they are despoy­led of their Estates, and loa­ded with chaines as heavie, as shamefull.

Their injustice is the cause of their disaster, Then he sheweth them their worke, and their trans­gressions that they have ex­ceeded. their crimes pal thunder from heaven upon [Page 348]their heads, and they are not punished but for the extorti­ons which they have used in their Kingdomes, or for the violence which they have ex­ercirsed over their enemies.

And God is so farre from taking pleasure to make them miserable, He ope­neth also their ear to disci­pline, and com­mandeth that they remine from iniquity. that he employes all his favours to reduce them to their duty; for he speakes secretly to the eare of their hearts to convert them, and serves himselfe with good motions and inspirations to divert them from their sins.

If they profit by his advice, If they obey and serve him, they shall spend their dayes in pro­sperity, and their yeares in pleasures. if they prudently use his counsells, they shall come out of Prison happily, they shall mount againe upon their Throne, they shall raigne there with pleasure, and passe the rest of their yeares in that glorious Pompe, which ac­companies Kings in their Triumphs.

But if they neglect or re­ject them, But if they obey not, they shall pe­rish by the sword, & they shal dye with­outknowledge they shall take them out of Prison but to car­ry them to the Scaffold: and all the world shall confesse, that their death is the just punishment of their impru­dence, and that they have lost their honour with their life for having contemned God in their misfortune.

Dissembling Princes shall receive the same usage, But the hypocrites in heart heap up wrath: they cry not when he bindeth them. those who cover their pernitious de­signes under faire appearan­ces, and who never faile of pretences to oppresse their Subjects, shall likewise feele the just punishments which they deserve; for when they shall be laid in irons and of Kings as they were become slaves, their hardned hearts shall conceive no sorrow for their sins, and their guilty mouth shall ask no pardon for them.

God wearied with their Crimes shall raise a Tempest which shall cause their death, They dye in youth, and their life is among the un­clean. or if he defend them from it, it shall be but to condemne them to a life more shamefull than death it selfe; for being reduced to a condition where they shall be no longer men, their Masters shall employ them for the Guard and ser­vice of their Concubines.

If the poore likewise fall into any new misfortune, He de­livereth the poore in his affliction, and openeth their ears in op­pression. he will not despise them by rea­son of their condition, but by the same favour which he hath done the great ones, he will deliver them out of their misery, and beget a desire in them of praying to him, to the end that he may be obli­ged to help them.

Wherefore you must be­leeve, Even so would he have removed thee out of the strait into a broad place where there is no straitnesse, & that which should be set on thy table, should be full of fatnesse. unfortunate Prince, that if you imitate their Piety, you shall share in their happi­nesse, [Page 351]that God will take you out of this extreame calami­ty, which like a vast sea hath neither bankes nor bottome: then all your miseries shall end, you shall see your Table full of exquisite meats, and that nothing may be wanting to your felicity, you shall eat them in quiet, and with plea­sure.

That which hath prejudi­ced you hitherto is, But thou hast fulfilled the judgement of the wicked: judgement and justice take hold on thee. that you have favoured the wicked, and that you have made their Cause your owne, wherefore you are treated as you deserve, and the Judgements which you have received, have been formed by those which you have heretofore given.

To avoyd then this mis­fortune, I am of opinion, Because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee a­way with his stroke: then a great ransome cannot deliver thee. that when Heaven hath restored you to your Honours, and that when you shall be againe the Soveraigne and Judge of [Page 352]your Subjects, that you should resist anger, and that you should not suffer this violent passion to make you oppresse the innocent. Take heed also that Presents doe not shake your constancy, and that Mo­ney have not more power o­ver your minde than reason.

Be not troubled to leave of that haughty Greatnesse, Will he esteem thy ri­ches? no not gold, nor all the forces of strength. which is fitter to make one feared than loved; take no part with the Great against the small, and when you walk in publike be not accompa­nied with those guards which commit a thousand insolen­cies, and which hinder Sub­jects from approaching their Soveraignes.

Else it will happen, Desire not the night, when people are cut off in their place. that your people being no longer able to endure their extrea­mities, and taking advan­tage of your sleep, will goe and fall upon them in your [Page 353]Palace, and make them serve as an example to all servants who abuse the authority of their Masters.

Take heed likewise above all things, Take heed, regard not iniquity: for this thou hast chosen ra­ther then af­fliction. that you decline not to injustice; for since your misfortune this sinne is be­come familiar with you, and it seemes that Poverty hath taught you to be unjust.

Though your interest should not oblige you to take this resolution, Behold, God exalteth by his power: who teacheth like him? the Greatnesse and Majesty of God should invite you to it; for his Power ele­vates him above all his Crea­tures: our Conquerors which master all by their Armes, and our Sages who governe all by their Lawes, are not worthy to enter into compa­rison with him. Who hath enjoyned him his way? or who can say, Thou hast wrought ini­quity?

Who is he that would take the liberty to examine his Judgements? and who would be so rash as to dare [Page 354]to reproach him with com­mitting any injustice?

Remember I beseech you, Remem­ber that thou magnifie his work, which men behold. that all the wonders which his hands worke daily are hidden from you; and that all which the Poets and Phi­losophers have spoken of them, can neither make you know the greatnesse of his Power, nor the merit of his Workes.

I know that as all the Creatures are but prints and shadowes of his Being, Every man may see it, man may behold it afar off. men cannot be ignorant of him, and that there is no one so unhappy but hath some proofes or conjectures of his Divinity.

Yet we must confesse, Behold, God is great, and we know him not, nei­ther can the number of his years be sear­ched out. that his Greatnesse surpasseth our knowledge, and that the en­deavours of our minds are too feeble to reckon the number of his yeares, and to compre­hend the wonders of his Eter­nity.

'Tis true, For he maketh small the drops of water: they pour downe raine accord­ing to the va­pour thereof. that his Workes give us instructions, and that the effects which he produce­eth manifest to us his Power, for who knowes not it, and adores not him, when to give us a faire day he disperseth the Clouds, Which the clouds do drop, and di­still upon man abundantly. dryes up the drops of water, wherewith they were full; or when to make our Lands fruitfull he gathers together Vapours, and con­verts them into Torrents of Raine?

Or when he thickens them so that the Ayre becomes ob­scure with them, Also can any under­stand the sprea­dings of the clouds, or the noise of his ta­bernacle? and that Nature findes her selfe buried in darknesse, and when at full day he makes a gloomy night, which the light of the Sun cannot dissipate.

But doth he not appeare admirable when he stretch­eth out the Clouds like a Pa­villion, Behold, he spreadeth his light upon it, and cover­eth the bot­tome of the sea. and when to give sen­sible tokens of his Presence he [Page 356]dazels our eyes with his Lightning, and astonishes us with his Thunder, the flame and smoake of which being confounded together cover the tops of those proud Moun­taines, which serve as bounds to the fury of the Sea.

For as he serves himselfe with the same thing for con­trary uses, For by them judgeth he the people, he giveth meat in abundance. he employes Tem­pests and Raine sometimes to punish his enemies, some­times to favour his servants; and oftentimes the same storme which drownes the Lands of the wicked, waters and fattens those of the just.

His Power extends not on­ly over the Meteors, With clouds he co­vereth the light, and com­mandeth it not to shine, by the cloud that co­meth betwixt. but also over the most beautifull of all the Starres which followes his orders so exactly, that it seemes its light is in his hands, that it hath no other motion but that of his Will, and that it riseth not, and [Page 357]sets not but to render him obedience.

When it mounts upon our Horizon, The noise thereof shew­eth concer­ning it, the cat­tell also con­cerning the vapour. all Nature testifies its joy; and because its light is a common good which makes none jealous, men ad­vertise their friends of its re­turne, and possesse it without envie.

CHAP. XXXVII.

IF these wonders ravish you, At this also my heart trembleth, & is moved out of his place. those which are left me will ravish you much more, and I my selfe am so surprised, that to judge by the extraor­dinary palpitation of my heart, it seemes as if it would goe out of my breast, and testifie its astonishment by its death.

Hearken then with respect to this omnipotent God, Heare at­tentively the noise of his voyce, and the found that go­eth out of his mouth. who explaines himselfe in the voice of Thunder, and who to re­duce his rebellious Subjects to their duty shootes forth lightning.

From the highest Heavens be sees all that passeth upon earth, He dire­cteth it under the whole hea­ven, and his lightning unto the ends of the earth. and when our crimes offend him, he commands the lightning to cleave the Clouds, and to scatter its flames through the world.

After them comes the Thunder, After it a voice roareth: he thundreth with the excel­lency, and he will not stay them when his voice is heard. whose noyse more horrid than the roaring of lions intimidates all men, and although it advertises them of the disaster with which it threatens them, yet it doth not teach them to avoyd it; for though they heare it, they doe not know in what part it will light, and its fall is as deceitfull, as its voice is true.

He who thunders so hor­ridly, God thun­dreth marvel­lously with his voyce, great things doth he, which we cannot com­prehend. and who serves him­selfe with stormes and tem­pests, and makes himselfe fea­red when he cannot make himselfe loved, is the same who does all those other wonders in the Ayre, For he saith to the snow, Be thou on the earth, likewise to the small rain, & to the great rain of his strength. which oblige us to reverence his Power, and adore his great­nesse. 'Tis he who commands the Snow to whiten the earth, and (as cold as it is) to serve for a cover for to preserve its heat: 'tis he himselfe who disposeth of winter Raines, which swell the rivers, and ravage the fields.

Lastly, He sealeth up the hand of every man; that all men may know his worke. it is he who during the rigour of this season ties up the hands of men, hinders them from being at leasure for Husbandry, and obligeth them to thinke either on their domesticke affaires, or to ad­mire the works of his power.

The Beasts themselves, Then the beasts go into dens: and re­maine in their places. who [Page 361]feare the injury of the season, make no more incursions into the Plaines, but shut up in the Forrests they hide them­selves in their Dens, and ex­pect that the Spring deliver them from this prison.

Then the Tempests come out of the places where they were imprisoned, Out of the south cometh the whirle­winde: and cold out of the north. the Cold which the heat had banished into the Countries of the North, returnes more glori­ous then before, and establi­shed in its Empire, it makes its rigour felt by all the peo­ple of the world.

The Winds which march alwaies in its traine cause a thousand ravages upon Land, By the breath of God frost is given: & the breadth of the waters is straitned. and a thousand shipwrackes at Sea: when the North­winde blowes, and its pierce­ing cold locks up all things, the Waters glaze themselves and change into Crystall, but when the South-winds blow [Page 362]in their turne, the Ice melts, and its crystall resolves into water.

God who provides for all our necessities does these wonders ordinarily, Also by watering he wearieth the thick cloud: he scattereth his bright cloud. when the Corne hath need of raine, for then he covers the Heaven with Clouds great with Lightning and Thunder, which make the earth hope, that she shall soone be wa­tered.

These vapours which carry fertility in their bosomes, And it is turned round about by his counsells: that they may doe whatsoever he commandeth them upon the face of the world in the earth. have no other motion than that which God gives them, he is the Governour who con­ducts them, and these ina­nimate subjects are alwaies ready to doe his commands.

They are not tyed to any one part of the World, He cau­seth it to come, whe­ther for cor­rection, or for his land, or for mercy. they water as well strange Lands as those which brought them forth, and the Will of God being all their inclinations, [Page 363]they stay upon the Fields, which he will oblige, and fly from those which he will punish.

Consider these wonders a little, unhappy Prince, Hearken unto this, O Job: stand stil, and consider the wondrous works of God. and since my reasons have no power over your minde, learn from the respect which insen­sible Creatures beare to God, the obedience which you owe him, and meddle no more in judging his designes, since his most common workes are unknowne to you.

For to confound your pride once more without digressing from my subject, Doest thou know when God disposed them, and cau­sed the light of his cloud to shine? do you know the time when God com­mands the Clouds to mixe their darknesse with the brightnesse of the Sunne, and to make by that pretty confu­sion that incomparable Me­teor, which is compounded but of water and light, and which shewes us colours as [Page 364]beautifull as they are false, which naturally presageth nothing but raine, and yet assures us that the earth shall never be drowned by a uni­versall deluge, and which lastly represents the forme of a Bow, and yet never shootes any man unlesse it be with astonishment and love?

But without standing any longer to describe so publicke a wonder, Doest thou know the balancings of the clouds, the wondrous works of him which is per­fect in know­ledge? doe you know the motion of the Clouds, the way which they observe in the Heavens when they fly over our heads, the battailes which they give when carried by contrary winds they shock one another in the midst of the Ayre: Lastly, doe you know all the secrets which they hide from us, and which require profound study, and perfect science to be plainely understood?

Have you never observed, How thy garments are warm, when he quieteth the earth by the south winde? [Page 365]that the seasons change with the winds, and that when those of the South blow up­on the earth, your cloathes grow hot, and your strength growes feeble?

But when you shall know the causes of these extraordi­nary effects, Hast thou with him spread out the skie, which is strong, and as a molten look­ing glasse? and by a long ex­perience you shall have care­fully observed all these chan­ges, will you dare to boast that you know how he hath built these proud frames, which roale continually over our heads, and which though they are more solid than Brasse, are more transparent than Chrystall?

If you know all these won­ers, Teach us what we shall say unto him: for we cannot order our speech by reason of dark­nesse. as you would perswade us you doe, teach us some words to answer God with: for I confesse, that my light compared with his is darke­nesse, and the more I thinke of the greatnesse of his works, [Page 366]the lesse I can finde words to describe them.

Though the tearmes which I use now be very modest, Shall it be told him that I speak? if a man speake, surely he shall be swallowed up. yet I would finde some one who could relate them to him, for I am perswaded that one can­not speake to him without danger, that the lustre of his Majesty dazleth men, and that they cannot purchase the honour of doing it but with the losse of their lives.

His presence may well work this Miracle, And now men see not the bright light which is in the clouds: but the winde passeth and cleanseth them. since his Power produceth every day the like: for it takes from us the light when it pleaseth, it darkens the Ayre with Clouds, and makes a night in the midst of day, then commanding the winds to scatter them, it re­stores us the brightnesse which it had taken from us.

Then as if the Ayre were cleansed by the North winds, Faire weather co­meth out of he north: with God is terrible ma­jesty. the Heaven appeares as [Page 367]pure as gold, and this calme which succeeds the Tempest, and teaches us that all things obey God, obliges us to adore him with respect, and to mixe sentiments of fear amongst all the prayses which we give him.

So that we must confesse, Touch­ing the Al­mighty, we cannot finde him out: he is excellent in power, and in judgement, & in plenty of ju­stice: he will not afflict. that whatsoever endeavour we can use, we cannot attaine to the least of his perfections: for he is great in his Workes as in his Judgements, and that man doth not know him yet, who thinkes to finde words to relate his wonders.

Wherefore the most advi­sed men are content to adore him with humility, Men do therefore fear him: he re­specteth not a­ny that are wise in heart. without desiring to know him with pride, and the most judi­cious honour him in his works without examining his de­fignes, for feare least so guilty a curiosity should be followed with confusion and repen­tance.

CHAP. XXXVIII.

WHen this long dis­course, Then the Lord answe­red Job out of the whirl­winde, & said: which wan­ted neither truth, nor cunning was ended, God who would him­selfe try the patience of Job, and exercise him once againe before he crowned him, ap­peared in a Cloud worthy of his Majesty, and spake to him in this manner:

Who is that rash man, Who is this that dark­neth counsell by words without know­ledge? who [Page 369]after having expressed his thoughts in a confusion of words, comes impudently to crosse my designes, and re­duce the lawes of my Provi­dence to the feeble reach of his owne minde?

If he have as much cou­rage as insolence, Gird up now thy loins like a man: for I will demand of thee, and an­swer thou me. let him pre­pare himselfe for the Combat, let him take Armes to defend himselfe, and since he hath desired to try his force against mine, and to enter into the list with me, let him answer to my demands, and learne by this dispute, that the wis­dome of men is but folly be­fore me.

Where were you, Where wast thou, when I laid the foundati­ons of the earth? declare, if thou hast un­derstanding when taking counsell of none but mine owne Power and Good­nesse, I laid the foundation of the earth, and made it un­moveable in the midst of the Ayre, where it hath no other support but its owne weight? [Page 370]declare to me this secret if you know it, and make it appeare in this occasion that you have more knowledge than va­nity.

Tell me who hath taken the measure of this Universe, Who hath laid the mea­sure thereof, if thou knowest? or who hath stretched the line upon it? and compassed the Moun­taines and Vallies of the earth, and formed so perfect a Globe of it, whereupon are the soun­dations there­of fastned? or who laid the corner stone thereof? that it serves the Universe for a Center, and is the unmoveable Point where all its Lines meet? Who hath founded all this great worke upon such firme Columnes? and who is that sage Architect who hath layed the first stone of so magnifi­cent a Palace?

Where were you, When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shou­ted for joy. when at the birth of the World all the Starres praised me, and all the Creatures which are my productions and my Chil­dren, by an harmonions con­sent, which the course of time [Page 371]was never able to interrupt, published so loud my Divine perfections?

Who shut up that proud Element, Or who shut up the sea with doores, when it brake forth, as if it had issued out of the womb? which acknowledg­eth no other power than mine within the bounds, which it dares not passe?

Who prescribed it Lawes when it came out of that con­fused Masse, When I made the cloud the garment thereof, and thicke darke­nesse a swad­ling band for it. which seemed to be the Wombe of the Uni­verse, and treating it like a Childe who is new borne, I cover'd it with Clouds as with Swadling-clouts, and layed it in its Bed as in a Cradle, and commanded the Vapours which environ it to serve it for cloathes?

For you are not ignorant that it was I who gave it its being, And brake up for it my decreed place, and set bats and doors, who marked it out its bounds, and who to stay its violence opposed Bankes which it often toucheth, but never overthrowes.

You know it may be too, And said, Hitherto shalt thon come, but no further: and here shall thy proud waves be stayed. that I used that imperious discourse to it, which taught it that it was my slave, and that I said to it, Thou shalt come hither, and passe no further, there thou shalt dash thy waves, and turne all their fury into foame.

But if you were not in the world when my hand did these Miracles, Hast thou comman­ded the mor­ning since thy dayes? and caused the day-spring to know his place, since your birth have you assisted me with your power, or with your counsell? have you com­manded the Morning to rise before the Sunne, and have you appointed it the place where it must goe out, when it appeares upon the Ho­rizon?

When lastly to punish the sinnes of men, That it might take hold of the ends of the earth that the wicked might be shaken out of it? I have at any time shaken the earth, did you take it by the ends to tosse it with me, and dis­charge it of those impious [Page 373]men who profained it with their crimes?

Yet doe not thinke that so violent a motion ruines my worke, It is tur­ned as clay to the seal, and they stand as a garment. I re-establish it with as much facility as by the im­pression [...]f a Seale they give soft wax the print which it had lost; and as when they beat the dust out of a suit of clothes they doe not weare it but make it cleane, so by these agitations I doe not ru­ine the world, but purge it.

My Wisdome discerned the innocent from the guilty, And from the wicked their light is with-holden, and the high arme shall be broken. and my Justice takes away but their lives whose pride would crosse my greatnesse.

But if it be true that you know all things, Hast thou entred into the springs of the sea? or hast thou walked in the search of the depth? as your va­nity hath made your mouth say it; did you ever goe down under the waters of the Sea? have you seene all the Mon­sters which it breeds in its bosome? and did you ever [Page 374]descend into the depth of the Abysses for to contemplate the wonders which I have hidden there?

Have those darke Cavernes which the earth shuts up in her entrails, Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death? and those gloo­my Palaces where Death holds his Empire opened you their Gates to let you in, and to let you out againe?

But how should you know the depth of the earth, Hast thou perceived the breadth of the earth? Declare if thou know­est it all. since the breadth of it is unknowne to you, and your compasse is too little to take the mea­sure of so great a Globe? yet tell us what you have learnt of it, and satisfie my demands to content your owne vanity.

Doe you know where the Light makes its retreat, Where is the way where light dwelleth? and as for darke­nesse, where is the place thereof? when Night comes to take its place? and where Darknesse goes to hide it selfe, when the Sunne brings backe the Day? and by what secret wayes and im­perceptable [Page 375]to your eyes both of them retire into the house which I have designed them?

But to search no fur­ther proofes of your igno­rance than your owne Per­son, That thou shouldest take it to the bound thereof, & that thou shouldest know the paths to the house thereof. did you know at that time that you should be borne in this? and under­standing then the things which you are ignorant of at present, Knowest thou it, be­cause thou wast then borne? or because the number of thy days is great? did you know what would be the number of your dayes, and how many yeares you were to passe in the world?

And to the end I may convince your ignorance by as many Creatures as there are in the Universe, Hast thou entred into the the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seene the trea­sures of the hail, did you ever goe into those Store­houses where I keep the Snow and the Haile to serve my selfe withall in the day of Battaile, Which I have reser­ve against the time of trou­ble, against the day of battell and wa [...]? and to teach all the world that nothing is impos­sible to my infinite Power, [Page 376]since with such poore Armes I get such glorious Victories over my enemies.

Doe you know by what waies I dispence light and heat to the world, By what way is the light patted, which scatte­reth the east­winde upon the earth? and how for to accommodate my selfe to the necessities of my Crea­tures, I distribute Raine, and faire weather, and make the calme succeed the Tempest?

Are you ignorant in what manner I raise the Vapours into the Ayre, Who hath divided a water course for the over­flowing of wa­ters? or a way for the light­ning of thun­der, and draw out of their bosome Raines mixt with Thunders, which fal­ling into the Deserts, and covering them with greene­nesse testifie as well my libe­rality as my Power, and make it appeare that the pro­fit of men is not the onely morive of my Actions, since I enrich places which are inac­cessible to them, and feed in the Woods savage Beasts which are unprofitable to them?

There is nothing more or­dinary than those Waters which fall from Heaven to water the thirsty fields, To cause it to raine on the earth, where no man is: on the wil­dernes, wher­in there is no man? and there is nothing more com­mon or more pleasant than the Dew which nourisheth the Flowers: To sa­tisfie the de­solate & waste ground, and to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth. yet you know not who is the father of them, and though these effects are evident to you, yet the cause of them is hidden.

You know as little out of whose bosome the Haile comes, Hath the rain a father? or who hath begorten the drops of dew? which would abate the value of the Pearles of the Sea, if it could longer retaine its whitenesse, Out of whose womb came the ice? and the hoary frost of hea­ven, who hath gendred it? and its hard­nesse; you know not neither the originall of the Ice, which makes the Rivers unmovea­ble, and of their very water raiseth bridges of Chrystall.

But if you beleeve that your power surpasseth your know­ledge, The wa­ters are hid as with a stone, and the face of the deepe is frozen. can you gather toge­ther those glittering Starres [Page 378]which we call the Pleiades, Canst thou binde the sweet influen­ces of Pleia­des? or loose the bands of Orion? and make one constellation of them? Can you divide in an equall distance those other Starres about Ʋrsa Major, and which presage as well changes in States as Tempests in the Ayre? Canst thou bring forth Mazaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arctu­rus with his sons?

Can you make rise over mens heads that beautifull Starre to which you give se­verall names, according to its severall uses, which pre­cedeth the day, and goes be­fore the night; which riseth first of the Starres, and which sets last?

Doe you know the admira­ble order which I have esta­blished in the Heavens, Knowest thou the ordi­nances of hea­ven? canst thou set the domi­nion thereof in the earth? the re­gular motion of their Globes, the certaine conjunction of their Planets, the secret in­fluences of their Starres, and that Empire which they have over all the things of the world?

Is Nature ingaged to fol­low your inclinations? Canst thou lift up thy voiee to the clouds, that a­buudance of waters may co­ver thee? Doe your defires serve for Lawes to the Elements? When you command the Clouds to give water, doe they obey your Commands? and when you have spoken, doth the Raine to obey your orders fall over your head?

Is the Lightnings subje­cted to your power, Canst thou send light­nings, that they may go, and say unto thee, Here we are? which would have no bounds if it were as great as your pride? doeth it fly through the Ayre to execute your designes? doeth it spare your friends? doeth it hit your enemies? doeth it come to know your Will, and when it hath accomplished it doth it re­turne to give you an account of it?

If you cannot doe these things, Who hath put wis­dome in the inward parts? or who hath given under­standing to the heart? can you so much as tell us who was that great Architect, who formed Man, [Page 380]and put wisdome in his heart, and who having made him the weakest would also make him the wisest of all the Creatures? or if you know not his perfections, doe you know those of Birds, and can you teach us who is that Di­vine Workman who hath gi­ven the Cocke an inclination to salute the Sunne, to a­wake men, and to announce day?

But without questioning you any further, Who can number the clouds in wis­dom? or who can stay the bottles of hea­ven, who is he a­mongst men who can tell me all the Wonders of the Hea­vens, the sweetnesse and the force of their influences, the order and the number of their Starres, the differences and the agreements of their Mo­tions: and who can make the harmony of those Globes cease which alwaies roule, or lay them asleep by any Arti­fice, and impose upon them si­lence?

Notwithstanding the Pray­ses which they give me are as ancient as the World, When the dust grow­eth into hard­nesse, and the clods cleave fast together? for ever since I mixt the sand with the water to give con­sistence to the earth, and that my hands were employed to kneade the Mould of which it is formed, the Heavens published my greatnesse, and the perfections of my Essence were the only subject of their consort.

But since you confesse by your filence that these Mira­cles surpasse your power, Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lion? or fill the appetite of the young li­ons, dare you bragge of having directed the Lionesses in the Chase, and taught them to search for Prey for the nourishing of their young ones, When they couch in their dens, and abide in the covert to lie in wait? who not daring yet to declare an open warre against the other Beasts of the Forrests, lay imbushes for them in their Dens, or wait for them upon a passage to surprize and d [...]our [...]em?

Doe you take care of pro­viding for the necessity of the Ravens? Who pro­videth for the raven his food? when his yong ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat. doe you take charge of feeding their little ones, when by their dolefull cries they accuse the cruelty of their Parents who have left them, and implore the ayde of God who is the common Parent of all his Creatures?

CHAP. XXXIX.

SInce the height of the Heavens excu­seth you from knowing the Won­ders of them, Kuowest thou the time when the wilde goats of the rock bring forth, or canst thou marke when the hindes doe calve? and the little [Page 383]commerse which you have with the Birds doth not per­mit you to know their proper­ties, you ought not to be ig­norant of those of the Crea­tures which converse with you: tell me then if you have observed the time when the wilde Goates retire into the Rockes to deliver themselves of their young, or if you have considered the Hindes when they struggle with paine, and when to give life to their Calves they are in danger of loosing it?

Have you so exactly coun­ted the Moneths which are past since the moment that they conceived, Canst thou number the moneths that they fulfill? or knowest thou the time when they bring forth? that you can judge of that in which they are to bring forth?

They stoope to the earth by an i [...]stinct of Nature, They bow them­selves, they bring forth their young ones, they cast out their for­rows. whe­ther it be the paine they suffer which compels them to it, or the feare of hurting their [Page 384]Calves which obligeth them to it: amongst the griefes which torment them they cast forth cryes, which are as terrible as the roaring of Lio­nesses.

A little time after these young ones are borne they leave their Dammes to come to them no more, Their young ones are in good liking, they grow up with corne: they go forth, and turne not unto them. and by an inclination which Nature hath given them they search in the fields for the Hearbs which are necessary for the entertainment of their life.

5 Who hath caused the wilde Asse to be borne in so great liberty? Who hath sent out the wilde asse free? or who hath loosed the bands of the wilde asse? who hath excu­sed him from the servitude to which domesticke Asses are subject? who hath broken his bonds, and delivered him from the reyne and the bridle, which force the most gene­rous Creatures to doe the will of men?

Whose house I have made the wil­dernesse, and the barren land his dwel­lings. I have accommodated my [Page 385]selfe to his disposition, which is an enemy to constraint; I have given him solitude for his retreat, and assigned him his dwelling in the Deserts, where without being disquie­ted by the noyse of Cities, He scorn­eth the multi­tude of the ci­ty, regardeth he the crying of the driver. he heares not the importunate voyce of those people who are destined for the driving of Beasts to burden, and who to draw service out of them for­beare neither injuries nor blowes.

With his liberty he hath this further advantage, The range of the moun­taines is his pasture, and he searcheth after every green thing. that he chooseth the places where is the best forrage, and goes upon the Mountaines, where the goodnesse of Grasse doth not onely appease his hunger, but excite his appetite.

Can you oblige by your in­dustry, Will the unicorne be willing to serve thee? or abide by thy c [...]ib? or by your force the Rhinoceros to serve you, and to triumph over the courage of that fierce Beast, can you [Page 386]compell him to stand in your Stable, and to eat of your Hay and Oates like your Horses?

Can you promise your selfe to make him bow his head under your yoke, Canst thou binde the unicorne with his band in the furrow? or wil he harrow the valleys after thee? to tye him to the Plough, and condemne him to the open earth with the Plough-shares, though his force equall or surpasse that of the Oxe, Wilt thou trust him because his strength is great? or wilt thou leave thy labour to him? can you draw any service thence in your Hus­bandry? will you feed him with your sheaves, and as he hath borne a share in your la­bours, will you give him a share in your Harvest?

Will you employ him du­ring the Harvest-time to ga­ther you Corn in the field, Wilt thou beleeve him that he will bring home thy seed? and gather it into thy bame? and making him make a hun­dred journies a day will you condemne him to carry it in­to your Barnes? Gavest thou the good­ly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers unto the ostrich? when the Estridge, whose feathers are like to those of Hawkes and Hearnes, and to whom I have [Page 387]given wings rather to adorne her than to carry her, when, I say, Which leaveth her eggs in the earth, and warmeth them in the dust, this brutish Bird leaves her Eggs in the sand, and without troubling her selfe at the accidents which may be­fall them, she looseth the care and the remembrance of them, And for­getteth that the foot may crush them, or that the wilde beast may break them. will you heat them to make them hatch? and will you temper the heat of the Sun for to give life to her young ones? She is hardned a­gainst her yong ones, as though they were not hers: her la­bour is in vain without fear.

Doe you serve them for a Father, in the absence of that Mother who is as cruell to them as if they had no relati­on to her, and who would bring them forth in vaine without my assistance, Because God hath de­prived her of wisdome, nei­ther hath he imparted to her understan­ing. since she hath no passion to preserve them, nor feare to lose them?

It is true, that she ought not to be accused of it, because her stupidity makes my Provi­dence appeare, and because I tooke not from her the care [Page 388]of her young ones, but to take care of them my selfe.

And it is not so, What time she lift­eth up her self on high, she scorneth the horse and his rider. when she is threatned with any danger, feare makes her advised, and when they pursue her in the field, she serves her selfe with her feet and with her wings, and at once laughs at the fleetnesse of the Horses, and the dexterity of the Huntsmen

But last of all, Hast thou given the horse strength? hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? if your power equall your wisdome, can you give strength and agility to the Horse, with whatsoever or­naments you trick him up to content his pride and your owne? Canst thou make him afraid as a gras­hopper? the glory of his nostrils is ter­rible. can you guide his head, turne his neck gently about, make his mane float upon his shoulders, and swell his throat with that generous neighing which assures the Cavalier who rides him of his courage? you can traine him to the great saddle, and teach him to obey your hand and your [Page 389]spurre; but you can neither give him dexterity, nor vigour: if he alwaies be in action un­der the Rider, if he bound in the Ayre, if he cannot stay in a place, it is an effect of my Power, and not of your in­dustry. When he is angry he champs his Bit, he growes white with foame, he pricks up his eares, he darts a flame out of his eyes and his no­strels, and snoaring with rage and despight strikes terrour in all those who behold him.

If he must goe upon any oc­casion where his Master hath need of his courage, He paw­eth on the val­ley, and rejoy­ceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the ar­med men. he stamps upon the ground with his foot, he marches proudly, he lifts up his head, he seeketh out the enemy, and when he hath discovered him he casts himselfe amongst his Squa­drons, and brings every where where he passeth horrour and disorder.

When he is engaged in fight, He mock­eth at fear, and is not affright­ed: neither turneth hee back from the sword. nothing can astonish him, the poynts of Pikes, and the glittering of Swords can­not make him to requoyle; danger encreaseth his cou­rage, he knowes not feare, and is never more furious than when he sees himselfe cove­red with his bloud. The qui­ver ratleth a­gainst him, the glittering spear and the shield.

The noyse of Armes asto­nisheth him not, and whether the Cavalier who rides him shoots his Arrowes, or darts his Javelin, or wards with his Buckler the blowes which are made at him, he is alwaies equally assured.

If in the fury which ani­mater him his Master pulls back the Bridle, He swal­loweth the ground with fiercenesse aud­rage: neither beleeveth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. and hinders him from advancing, he foams with rage, he gnawes his Bit, and to see him bend his neck, and open his mouth, you would thinke that he would bite the earth: he alwaies hath [Page 391]his eare open to listen to the sound of the Trumpet, and in passion which he hath to fight he imagines that it will never sound the charge.

But when he heares it, He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battell afarre off, the thun­der of the cap­taines, and the shouting. and the Tantaras hath filled his eares, he witnesseth by his neighing the pleasure which he receives in it, they judge by his action that he smells the warre, that he presages the Battell, and that become rea­sonable he is animated by the speeches of the Captaines, and excited by the acclamations of the Souldiers.

Doth the Hawk fly by thy wisdome, and stretch her wings toward the south? It is by your counsell or your addresse that the Hawke leaveth off his old feathers to take new ones, that by the fa­vour of certaine winds he de­spoyles himselfe to cloath himselfe againe, that he pre­vents the rigour of Winter, and furnisheth himselfe with a second plumage more thick than the former?

Is it by your order that the Eagle takes her flight on high, Doth the Eagle mount up at thy com­mand? and make her nest on high? that she raiseth her selfe up in the Ayre, and that she goes to make her Nest upon the heads of the highest Mountaines, or upon the top of the tallest Ce­ders?

Have you taught her to place her selfe upon the points of these inaccessible Rocks, She dwel­leth and abi­deth on the rock, upon the crag of the rock, and the strong place. which are counter-skarsed and encompased with Proeci­pices, From thence she seeketh the prey, and her eyes behold asar off. thence for to cast her eyes on all sides, and discover afarre off the Prey which she seekes for the nourishing of her young ones, who not as yet able to teare it with their Talons, suck its bloud with their Beake, and accustome themselves to slaughter?

Lastly, Her young ones al­so suck up blood: and where the slain are, there is she. have you given her that subtle scent, which dis­covers to her that which her eyes cannot see, and which makes her smell so farre the [Page 393]fatall reliques of any bloudy Battell?

God who read in the heart of Job that this discourse touched him, Moreo­ver, the Lord answered Job, and said, and that the astonishment which seized him tooke away his speech, continued on in this manner:

What now? Shall he that contend­eth with the Almighty in­struct him? he that reproveth God, let him answer it. doth that man who would contest with God suffer himselfe so easily to be overcome? hath that man, who promised himselfe so much the better if they would permit him to defend himself, already lost his courage? surely if the goodnesse of his minde hath not furnished him with reasons to maintaine his innocence, the goodnesse of his will might have furnished him at least with words to re­ply to me,

As the feare of Job had made him hold his peace, Then Job answered the Lord, and said. the regret for his sinne made him speake in these tearmes: [Page 394]Since my discourses condemn me, Behold, I am vile, what shall I answer thee? I will lay my hand upon my mouth. my silence must justifie me; since I have spoken with too much lightnesse, it is necessary that I hold my peace with discretion: but what can he answer who con­fesseth his fault, and what should he doe, who is guilty but for having spoken too much, but put his finger upon his mouth, and oblige him­selfe to silence?

I confesse to you, Once have I spoken, but I will not an­swer? yea, [...]wice, but I will proceed no further. that griese hath forced indiscreet words from my mouth, and that I have escaped into discourses which to defend my inno­cence crossed your mercy; but I protest to you, that I will be so rash no more, and though your Justice should make my miseries endure whole Ages, I will cease my complaints to sing nothing but your prayses.

CHAP. LX.

GOd answereth out of the midst of that cloud, Then an­swered the Lord unto Job out of the whirlwinde, & said: from whence he had already pronounced so many Oracles, and said to Job:

Resume new strength, Gird up thy loyns now like a man: I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. pre­pare your selfe to suffer a se­cond Assault, and since you have gloried in having such high knowledge, sinde out replyes to all the demands which I desire to make to you.

Doe you think to oblige me by your discourses to change my Judgement? Wilt thou also disanull my judge­ment? wilt thou condemn me, that thou mayest be [...]ighteous? doe you think your complaints make me re­voke my Decrees? doe you thinke to ruine my Justice to establish your own innocence, and to perswade men, that in condemning you I have rather followed passion than reason?

If your force equall mine, Hast thou an arme like God? or canst thou thunder with a voyce like him? if nothing be impossible to your power, and if to over­throw those who oppose your will, you dispose of the thun­der as I do, I will pardon your rashnesse of these thoughts.

But for to give us proofes of your power, Deck thy selfe now with majesty and excellen­cy, and aray thy selfe with glory & beau­ty. set off your naturall beauty by borrowed beauties, adorne your selfe as in the day of triumph, cover your selfe with sumptuous cloathes, and march with a Majesty which may strike re­spect in all your subjects.

In this glorious Equipage, Cast a­broad the rage of thy wrath: and behold e­very one that is proud, and abase him. [Page 397]make your just indignation felt by all the rebells of the world, compose your eyes in that manner that their lookes may astonish the arrogant, and teach the proud humility.

Beat downe Kings under your feet, Looke on every one that is proud, and bring him low: and tread down the wic­ked in their place. use not your power but to tame their insolence, and when they shall have op­pressed your Subjects, make the same place which was fouled by their Crime, be washed with their bloud, and their death give an example, where their life hath given scandall.

Bruise their Scepters, Hide them in the dust to­gether, and binde their faces in secret. hide the lustre their Crownes, hide the lustre of their glory under obscuri­ty, pursue them after their death, and teach them that the Grave is not a sanctuary which can protect them from your anger.

When you have done these Miracles, Then wil I also con­fesse unto thee, that thine own right hand can save thee. I shall confesse that [Page 398]in the miseries wich encom­passe you, my succour is un­profitable to you, and that your forces being equall to mine, one cannot assault you so well, but you can better defend your selfe.

But as all these effects sur­passe your power, Behold now Behe­moth, which I made with thee, he eateth grasse as an ox. and you de­spise not mine but because it is not sufficiently knowne to you, I will give you new proofes of it. Consider then the Elephant which I have produced like you, and which I have fed as an Oxe with the grasse of the fields.

His force which hath no e­quall resides particularly in his loynes, Lo now, his strength is in his loyns, and his force is in the na­vell of his belly. which are so strong that in the Battell he carries Towers filled with Souldiers, and his vigour is inclosed in his Navell, which is as the center to which all the mem­bers of his body answer.

He mo­veth his taile like a cedar: the sinews of his stones are wrapt roge­ther. This advantage is the re­compence [Page 399]of his purity, for he is so chaste that he is never seene to doe undecent actions, and Nature which accommo­dates her selfe to his inclina­tion, hath hidden all those parts which seeme for the con­servation of his species as the Barke covers the wood of Ce­dars and of Cypresses.

His bones, His bones are as strong pieces of bras: his bones are like bars of iron. and principally his teeth, which were given him for defence, are as hard as plates of Brasse, and his truncke which seemes to be composed of gristles, is equall in its strength to barres of I­ron, and in its dexterity to the hand of man.

Amongst the Creatures which conduct themselves by instinct he is the Master-piece of my power, He is the chiefe of the wayes of God: he that made him, can make his sword to ap­proach unto him. and if I had not given hornes to the Rhi­noceros, and poyson to the Dragon, who are his most mortall enemies, there were [Page 400]no beasts to be found which could have the better of him.

Although he be so strong, Surely the mountains bring him forth food: where all the beasts of the field play. he is so gentle, that content with the Grasse which the Mountaines bring forth, he seeketh not for prey; and the other Beasts which know his humour feed quietly in his company.

When he would repose himselfe he seekes out moyst places, He lieth under the sha­dy trees, in the covert of the reed and fens. where he sleepes under the freshnesse of the shade which the Groves afford him, or the Willowes, which so pleasantly bound the streams.

When he drinkes, He drink­eth up a river, and hasteth not: he trust­eth that he can draw Jor­dan into his mouth. it is such great draughts, that it seemes to those who see him that he would dry up Rivers, and when he enters into Jordan to appease his thirst, you would say that he hath a designe to drayne it.

With all his strength he hath so little cunning, He take­eth it with his eyes: his nose pierceth tho­row snares. that he [Page 401]sees the snares of the Hunts­men and doth not avoyd them; he is so simple that he lets himselfe be taken like Fish with the Hooke, and so gentle that he lets his nostrils be pierced, and himselfe be led by the nose.

But that your weaknesse and my Power may appeare as well upon the Water as the Land, Canst thou draw out Le­viathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down? make triall of your strength against the Whale, see if you can take him with a Hooke, or with a Line, Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw thorow with a thorn? and if after having tyed his tongue with a Cord, and thrust a Buckle of Iron through his nostrils, or his cheekes, you can draw him from his Fortresse, and lead him where you please.

Doe you thinke to oblige him to say his prayers to you? Will he make ma­ny supplicati­ons unto thee? will he speake soft words un­to thee? doe you beleeve that astoni­shed at your power, or sur­prized with your Artifices, [Page 402]he will aske his liberty of you with words of sweetnesse and respect?

Doe you thinke to reduce him to make an agreement with you, Will he make a cove­nant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for e­ver? and to protest to you publickly, that he ho­nours you as his Master, and will serve you as your slave, and that the tearme of his life shall be no longer than that of his servitude?

Will you play with him as with those poore Birds, Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? wilt thou bind him for thy maidens? which serve as pastime for little Children? Shall your Daugh­ters tye him with a thread, which lengthening or short­ning at their discretion, shall make his prison either larger or straighter?

Doe you thinke it easie for a band of armed men to catch him in Nets, Shall the compani­ons make banquet him? shal they part him a­mong the mer­chants? to cut him in pieces, to load vessels with his spoyles, and to divide his Bo­dy amongst the Merchants, [Page 403]who have contributed to his taking?

If it be not a thing impossi­ble it is dangerous at the least; Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish­spears? for when you assault him, re­member that you must pre­pare your selfe for so furious a fight, that after you have tried him you will lose the desire of medling any more.

And though the designe should not be dangerous, Lay thine hand upon him, remem­ber the bat­tell: doe no more. it is alwaies very difficult, for this monster will deceive your hopes, and when you thinke to hold him fast he will va­nish from your eyes, Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one be cast down, even at the sight of him? and quit theshores of the sea to plunge himselfe into his Abysses.

CHAP. XLI.

THough this terrible Prodigy, None is so fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me? which seemes to be the Tyrant of the Sea, be the worke of my hands, yet men ought not to accuse me of being cruell, for if my inclination carried me to cru­elty, there is no Creature which could resist my fury

But I am farre from treating them so, Who hath preven­ted me, that I should repay him? whatsoe­ver is under the whole hea­ven, is mine. since my liberality prevents their services, and [Page 405]my bounty which created them, takes care of preserving them.

As then the VVhale is ra­ther a proofe of my Power than of my Rigour, I will not conceal his parts, not his power, nor his comely pro­portion. I will continue in describing him, and representing in choyce tearmes, and proper to per­swade, the disposition and the greatnesse of his body.

Neither is there any one who can relate his properties, Who can discover the face of his gar­ment? or who can come to him with his double bridle? who dare lift up his terrible eye-browes, which hang over his eyes and make him blinde, or attempt to enter into his throat, Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are ter­rible round a­bout. and to count his monstrous teeth, where it seemes that terrour is lodged to affright all those who be­hold them.

His body is armed with such strong scales, His scales are his pride, shut up toge­ther as with a close seal. that they seeme to be so many bucklers of Brasse wherewith Nature hath covered him to defend [Page 406]him: One is so neer to ano­ther, that no air can come betwixt them. they are so close that neither the wind which pas­seth through all places, nor Armes which penetrate all things can finde the defect of them, They are joyned one to another, they stick together, that they can­not be sun­dred. and they are so fast together that no Art nor vio­lence can divide them.

VVhen this dreadfull Mon­ster sneezeth, By his sneezing a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eye-lids of the morning. there are seene twinckle a thousand sparkes of fire, and when he opens his eyes he darts forth lookes, which have no lesse bright­nesse than the first rayes of the morning.

If he open his throat, Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out. there issue forth burning Torches, which disperse every where light and feare.

VVhen he breathes, Out of his nostrils go­eth smoak, as out of a seeth­ing pot or cauldron. his Nostrils cast forth a thicke smoake like to that of a boy­ling Caldron, his breath is so violent that it would make the Coales red, His breath kindleth coals and a flame goeth out of his mouth. save the For­ger his paines, and light the fire of his Furnace.

Though all the parts of his body be vigorous, In his neck remain­eth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. his force is particularly confined to his neck, he makes such spoyle wheresoever he passeth, that it seems Famine goes before him, and Poverty followes him.

He is of so strong a consti­tution that nothing can of­fend him, The flakes of his flesh are joyned toge­ther: they are firm in them­selves, they cannot be mo­ved. the parts of his body are so solid, and so well fastned, that the Lightning which destroyes the pride of the Mountaines can neither breake nor divide them.

The heart which animates his body is as hard as Mar­ble, His heart is as firm as a stone, yea, as hard as a piece of the neither milstone. and surpasseth in firme­nesse the Forgers Anvill, which the redoubled blowes of the Hammer have har­dened.

VVhen he lifts his head a­bove the Flouds, When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are a­fraid: by rea­son of break­ings they puri­fie themselves. or when he walkes upon that element which is falne to his division, the most assured Pilots are [Page 408]seized with feare, and know­ing how fatall his presence is to their Vessels, they employ all their industry to get away, but if the tempest render it uselesse they are constrained to make vowes to heaven, and endeavour to appease its an­ger by their prayers.

If they thinke to assault him, The sword of him that layeth at him, cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the haber­geon. or to defend themselves against him, all their wea­pons prove equally feeble, for as there is no Sword nor Pike but his skin blunts, so there is no Armour which he doth not bow with his teeth: He estee­meth iron as straw, and brasse as rot­ten wood. he breakes Iron like Straw, and Brasse resists him lesse than wood worne with age, and eaten with rottennesse.

The Archers who doe such great execution in a Battell cannot chase him away with the showers of their Arrows; The ar­rows cannot make him flee: sling­stones are tur­ned with him into stubble. and those Stones which the Sling casts with so much force [Page 409]make as little impression up­on his body, as a feastraw would which the hand of a childe should push.

Those heavy clubbes, Darts are counted as stubble, he laugheth at the shaking of the spear. whose blowes are so weighty cannot hurt him; and as he knowes well enough that his skin is proof against all weapons, he laughes at the javelins which they dart at him, and at the thrusts which they make at him with their Pikes.

If this Monster hath so much force, Sharpe stones are un­der him, he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire he hath no lesse pride; for he despiseth all that is beautifull in Nature, he dis­daines the light, he makes lit­ter of Gold, and tumbles himselfe with scorne upon Pearles and Diamonds.

When he snorts under the Waters he raiseth Tempests, He ma­keth the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the Sea like a pot of oint­ment. and the breath of his Longs as impetuous as that of the Windes, overtu [...]nes the Sea, and makes it boyl.

When he walkes he leaves behinde him a long tracke co­vered with foame: He ma­keth a path to shine after him, one would thinke the deep to be boary. he chan­geth the colour of the Ele­ment, he whitens its Waves, covers its face with wrinkles and furrowes, and treats it like an old Man, from whom Age hath taken away his vi­gour.

Although the Earth brings forth many Monsters whom their enormous greatnesse makes feared, Upon earth there is not his like: who is made without fear. there is none of them to compare with this which seemes not to have come into the World but to fear nothing, and to despise all things.

Lastly, He be­holdeth all high things; he is a king over all the children of pride. he is so great that when he lifts his head above the Waves he sees under him the proudest Mountaines; and his strength added to his Pride makes all the Monsters of the Sea reverence him as their Ty­rant.

CHAP. XLII.

THe greatnesse of God had imposed silence upon Job, Then Job answered the Lord, and said. his goodnesse made him speak, and the regret which he had for having complained, put these Excuses in his Mouth.

I know my God, I know that thou canst do every thing; and that no thought can be with-holden from thee. that as nothing is impossible to your Power, nothing is hidden from your knowledge, you can do all that you will, [Page 412]weaknesse hinders not the Execution of your Designes, and Darknesse covers not the Sentiments of our hearts.

A Man must be very in­discreet, Who is he that hideth counsel with­out know­ledge? there­fore have I ut­tered that I un­derstood not, things too wonderfull for me, which I knew not. or very ignorant, if he thinke to conceale his thoughts from you; for my part, I discover you mine, and confesse to you, that I spake rashly when I complained of your Justice, and that by Dis­courses which surpassed the reach of my understanding, I censured your Providence.

Now that my Reproaches are turned into Satisfactions, Hear, I beseech thee, and I will speak: I will demand of thee, and de­clare thou un­to me. and my Complaints changed into Prayers, give me leave to speak to you, and do me the favour to hear me.

The admirable Discourses which you have made me, I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee. have defaced all Doubts out of my Soul; those divine Lights wherewith you have illuminated me, have dissipa­ted [Page 413]all the Darknesse of my Heart; I reade your Provi­dence, I see your Designes, and I adore them; I under­stand the cause of my Mis­fortunes, and I reverence it, I know for what reason the in­nocent are afflicted, and I am comforted at it.

So that I blame all my past opinions, Wherefore I abhorre my selfe, and re­pent in dust and ashes. I oblige my Heart to be sorry for them, I com­mand mine Eyes to weep for them, I ordain my hands to punish them, and condemne my whole Body to do pe­nance for them with Ashes and Sack cloth. And it was so, that after the Lord had spoken these words unto Job, the Lord said to Eliphaz the Temani [...]e, 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.

After God had testified that the satisfactions of Job were not unacceptable to him, he discoursed thus with Eliphas; Your Crimes have irritated my Justice, and she would take a memorable revenge up­on you, if my Mercy did not detain her; for in all your In­vectives [Page 414]my honour hath ser­ved you but for a pretence to accuse Innocence; you have confounded the Crime with the Punishment; and the incli­nation which you have to in­terpret sinisterly the Actions of your Neighbour, hath made you judge that my Servant was guilty because he was miserable: but his Com­plaints are more acceptable to me than your Prayses, and I can more easily pardon the Regrets which sorrow hath drawn from his Mouth, than I do the Reproaches which Malice hath drawn from yours. Therefore take unto you now seven Bul­locks, & seven Rammes, & go to my servant Job, and offer vp for your selves a burnt-offering, and my servant Job shall pray for you, for him will I accept: least I deale with you after your folly, in that ye have not spoken of me the thing which is right, like my Ser­vant Job.

Wherefore I command you to choose seven Bulls and as many Rammes out of your Flockes to make a Holocaust of them which may expiate your Crimes, and repair my honour; but because the sa­crifices of the wicked are not [Page 415]acceptable to me, I will have you engage my Servant to joyn his Prayers with yours, and to demand of my bounty the pardon of your offences: he is charitable enough to do you that good office, and I am mercifull enough to pardon you for his sake.

These three Princes touch­ed with sorrow, So Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Na­amathite, went and did ac­cording as the Lord com­manded them: the Lord also accepted Job. and seised with fear, exactly followed the Orders of God, who let himselfe be overcome by the humble Prayers of Job, ac­corded him the favour which he begged for his Friends, and reestablished him in his great­nesse with so much advan­tage, that all things were re­stored him double, that it seemed God had not made him poor but to enrich him, nor taken away his goods but to given them him again with interest.

As the adversity of Job had [Page 416]scattered his Friends, And the Lord turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends: also the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before. his pro­sperity brought them again together; for at the noise of the Wonders which Heaven had wrought in his favour, they who were united to him by the Bonds of Nature or of Amity, came to visit him, and after they had mingled their Teares with his at the memo­ry of his past Miseries, 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 over all the evil that the Lord had brought upon him: every man also gave him a piece of money, & eve­ry one an ear­ring of gold. they treated him magnificently, to testifie to him the joy which the establishment of his For­tune brought them, and when they returned every one of them left him a Sheep as a Gage of his Affection, and an Ear Pendant of Gold in assurance of his fidelity.

His losse was as profitable to him as it was glorious; for Heaven took care of his Flockes, and multiplied them in that manner, that for seven thousand Sheep which passed about his Plaines, he counted [Page 417]fourteen thousand; for three thousand Camels which car­ried Burdens he saw six thou­sand in his Stables, So the Lord blessed the later end o [...] Job more than his begin­ning; for he had fourteen thousand sheep, and six thou­sand Camels, and a thousand yoak of Oxen, and a thousand sh [...]-Asses. for five hundred yoak of Oxen which tilled the Ground, he had a thousand which bore the yoak, and for five hundred she Asses which served for divers uses, he saw as many more in his fields.

His Wife becomming fruit­full at an Age well advanced, brought him seven Sonnes, whose perfections sweetned the sorrow which the losse of the other had caused him; He had also seven sons & three daugh­ters. and that in so great a happi­nesse he might have nothing to lament, he had three Daugh­ters which equalled or sur­passed in vertue those whom Death had taken from him.

The first whose beauty glistered like the Sun, And he called the name of the first Jemima, and the name of the second Kezia, and the name of the third Keren­happuch. derived her name from light; the se­cond whose breath was [Page 418]sweeter than Roses, borrow­ed hers from a most excellent Perfume; and the third whose cheekes Nature had painted with a most pleasing Ver­million, took her name from the colour of her tincture.

Amongst so many Perfecti­ons which made them re­markable amongst the Wo­men of that Age; And in all the land were no Wo­men found so fair as tha [...] daughters of Job: and their father gave them inheri­tance among their brethren. they had this further advantage, that they surpassed them all in beauty; though they were married, they were not put to the trouble of leaving their Brothers, with whom they lived alwayes, and peaceably enjoyed the Inheritance which their father had left them.

The felicity of Job was so long that an Age could not bound it; After this lived Iob an hundred and fourty yeares, and saw his sonnes, and his sonnes sonnes, even four genera­tions. for after he had happily accomplished that, he lived yet fourty yeares; during so long a terme he had [Page 419]the pleasure of seeing his chil­drens children even to the fourth Generation. But as there is no life so long which hath not its end, his was ter­minated by so gentle a Death, So Iob dy­ed being old, and full of dayes. that those who saw it wished one like it, and desired that they might be happy to live and die like him.