Before I eat I sigh: and as overflowing waters, so is my roaring:

“And besides this righteous king, listen also unto the words of the spiritual athlete Job, whom the healing of the spirit taught what manner of thing he should set upon his table before his food, "For my sighing entereth in before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like water;" these are the fruits which he took before his food, groanings and weeping, and then he drew nigh to eat his natural food, for he ate first of all suffering, and drank the tears of his groanings, and then he took his carnal food, from which also we may learn that that which he ate was consecrated and not ordinary food.”

“For my sighing cometh before I eat. For the soul's 'eating' is its being fed with the contemplations of the light above, and thus it sighs before it eats, in that it first travails with the groanings of sorrow, and afterwards is replenished with the cheer of contemplation. For except it sigh, it eats not, in that he that refuses to humble himself, in this exile we are in, by the groanings of heavenly desires, never tastes the delights of the eternal inheritance. For all they are starved of the food of truth, that take joy in the emptiness of this scene of our pilgrimage, but he 'sighs,' that 'eats,' because all who are touched with the love of truth, are at the same time fed with the refreshments of contemplation. The Prophet 'ate sighing,' when he said, My tears have been my bread. For the soul is fed by its own grief, when it is lifted up to the joys above by the tears, which it sheds, and indeed it bears within its sorrowful sighings, but it receives food for its refreshing, the more the force of its love gushes out in weeping. And hence blessed Job still goes on with the violence of that weeping, adding, And my roarings are poured out like overflowing waters. Waters, that overflow, advance with a rush, and swell with billows evermore increasing. Now whilst the Elect set the judgments of God before the eyes of their mind, whilst they dread the secret sentence concerning them, whilst they trust to attain to God, but yet are in fear lest they should not attain, while they call to mind their past doings, which they weep over, whilst they shrink from the events that still await them, in that they are unknown, there are gathered in them as it were a kind of billows, as of water, which spend themselves in the roarings of grief, as upon a shore beneath them. The holy man then saw how great are the billows of our thoughts in our penitential mourning, and he called the very waves of our grief overflowing waters, saying, And my roarings are like overflowing waters. Now there are times when the righteous, as we likewise said a little above, even in the midst of their very good works, are affrighted and give themselves to continual mourning, lest they should offend by some secret misdemeanour therein. And when God's scourges suddenly take hold of them, they imagine that they have done despite to the grace of their Maker, in that being either impeded by infirmities, or weighed down with sadness, they are not ready to perform works of mercy to their neighbours; and their heart turns to mourning, for that the body is become slack to its devout ministration. And whereas they see that they are not adding to their reward, they fear that their past deeds also have been displeasing.”

“After this Job opened his mouth, and so forth. As was said above, concerning the passions of the soul there was a twofold opinion among the ancients: for the Stoics said that sadness does not befall the wise man, while the Peripatetics said that the wise man does indeed feel sadness, but in his sadness comports himself moderately according to reason; and this latter opinion agrees with the truth. For reason cannot take away the condition of nature; and it is natural to sensible nature both to take delight and rejoice in fitting things and to grieve and be saddened at harmful ones: this, therefore, reason cannot take away, but it moderates it in such a way that through sadness reason is not turned aside from its rectitude. This opinion also agrees with sacred Scripture, which places sadness in Christ, in whom is the whole fullness of virtue and wisdom. Thus, then, Job from the aforementioned adversities did indeed feel sadness — otherwise the virtue of patience would have had no place in him — but on account of sadness his reason did not decline from rectitude; rather he held dominion over his sadness. To show this, then, it is said, after this Job opened his mouth. Now he says after this, that is, after the seven days of silence; from which it becomes clear that the words which follow were uttered according to reason, through a sadness not thrown into disorder. For if they had been spoken out of a disturbance of mind, he would have uttered them earlier, when the force of his sadness was more vehement; for any sadness is softened by length of time and is felt more strongly at the beginning. For this reason he seems to have kept silent so long, lest he be judged to speak with a disordered mind. This is also shown by the fact that it is said he opened his mouth; for when someone speaks out of the impulse of passion, it is not he himself who opens his mouth, but he is driven by passion to speak: for we are not masters of our acts through passion, but through reason alone. Yet by speaking he showed the sadness he was suffering: for it is customary among the wise that they speak from reason the movements of the passions which they feel, just as Christ also said, "My soul is sorrowful even unto death," and the Apostle says in Romans 8, "For the good which I will, I do not; but the evil which I hate, that I do." So too Boethius, at the beginning of the Consolation, laid open his sadness in order to show how he might soften it by reason; so too Job, by speaking, laid open his sadness. Hence there follows: and he cursed his day, which seems to be contrary to what the Apostle says in Romans 12:14, "Bless, and curse not." But it must be known that "to curse" is said in many ways: for since to curse is nothing other than to say something evil, one is said to curse as often as it happens that one says something evil. Now it happens that someone says something evil of another in three ways. First, by an utterance causing evil, as the divine utterance is the cause of the things that are said, and the sentence of a judge condemning someone is the cause of the punishment of him who is condemned; and in this way is understood what the Lord said in Genesis 3:17, "Cursed is the earth in thy work," and Genesis 10, "Cursed be Canaan, let him be servant of his brethren"; and Joshua cursed Achor, who had taken from the accursed thing. Second, by imprecating or wishing evil, as we read in 1 Kings that the Philistine cursed David in his ways. Third, it happens that someone says something evil simply by declaring it, whether in the present, the past, or the future, whether truly or falsely. The Apostle, therefore, forbids that cursing by which someone imprecates evil upon another or falsely defames him, but not that manner in which a judge condemns the guilty, or someone truthful orderly points out the evil of some thing, whether by showing what is present, or recounting what is past, or foretelling what is future. Thus, then, it must be understood that Job cursed his day because he declared it to be evil — not according to its nature, by which it was created by God, but according to that custom of Scripture by which a time is called good or evil according to the things that are done in that time, according to that word of the Apostle in Ephesians 5:16, "Redeeming the time, because the days are evil." Job, therefore, cursed his day inasmuch as he calls to mind that evil things befell him on that very day. How he cursed it, however, is added: and he said: let the day perish in which I was born, and the night in which it was said: a man is conceived. Now it must be known that although being and living are in themselves desirable, yet being and living in misery is, as such, to be fled from, although sometimes being in misery is willingly endured for the sake of some end; hence that miserable life which is not ordered to some good end is in no way to be chosen, according to what the Lord says in Matthew 26:24, "It were better for that man if he had not been born." But the good which is hoped for from some misery, reason alone apprehends; the sensitive power does not perceive it — just as taste perceives the bitterness of medicine, but reason alone delights in the end of health; if, then, someone wished to express the passion of his own taste, he would declare the medicine to be bad, although reason would judge it to be good on account of the end. So, then, the misery which blessed Job was enduring could indeed seem to reason to be useful in some respect, but the lower part of the soul, which was being affected by sadness on account of it, wholly repudiated the adversity; hence even the very act of living under such adversity was hateful to him. Now when something is hateful to us, we abominate all the things through which we came to it; and therefore Job, according to the lower part of the soul — whose passion he now intended to express — held in hatred both his birth and his conception, from which he had come into this life, and consequently the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, according to that manner of speaking whereby something is ascribed as good or evil to a time from the things done in that time. Thus, then, Job, because according to the sensitive part he repudiated life under adversity, wished that he had never been born or conceived, and this is what he says, let the day perish in which I was born, as if he were to say, "I would that I had never been born." And the night in which it was said — that is, in which it could truly be said — a man is conceived, that is, "would that I had never been conceived." And he arranges it fittingly, because when the nativity is removed the conception is not thereby removed, but rather the reverse; and he fittingly ascribes conception to the night and nativity to the day, because according to astrologers a daytime birth is more praiseworthy, the more principal star, namely the sun, being over the earth, whereas conception occurs more frequently at night. A similar manner of speaking is found in Jeremiah 20:14: "Cursed be the day wherein I was born; let not the day wherein my mother bore me be blessed." Having thus set down the curse of the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, he proceeds to treat each separately, and first concerning the cursing of the day of his nativity, saying, let that day be turned into darkness. Now it must be considered that, as Jerome says in the Prologue, from the words of Job in which he says let the day perish in which I was born up to that place where, near the end of the book, it is written, "therefore I reprehend myself," the verses are hexameters, running in dactyl and spondee; and thus it is clear that from this point the book is written after the manner of a poem, wherefore throughout this whole book he uses the figures and colors which poets are accustomed to use. Now poets are accustomed, in order to move more vehemently, to bring forward various things to the same purport; hence here too Job, in cursing his day, brings forward, according to the manner we have described, those things by which a day is wont to be rendered hateful. Now the dignity of a day is its brightness, for by this it is distinguished from night; this dignity, then, he excludes, saying, let that day be turned into darkness — a statement which, as to the surface of the letter, seems frivolous and vain. For the day of his nativity had already passed and now was not; and what has passed is unchangeable: how, then, could a day that had passed be turned into darkness? But it must be known that certain things are said by way of wishing, in order to express a judgment held concerning some matter; thus, then, it is now said, let that day be turned into darkness, as if it were said: the day of my nativity ought to have been dark, so that it might accord with the darkness of the misery which I suffer. For since the sight of light is delightful, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 11:7, "Light is sweet, and it is delightful for the eyes to see the sun," it is customary in the Scriptures that sadness be signified by darkness, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 5:16, "he eateth in darkness, and in many cares, and in wretchedness and sorrow." Now a day is bright in many ways: first, indeed, from God's sanctification, who instituted it to be celebrated, as is found in Exodus 20:8, "Remember that thou keep holy the sabbath day"; this brightness, then, he removes from the aforesaid day, saying, let not God regard it from above, as if he were to say: let not God require of men that they keep this day as a feast. For certain days are required by God for celebration on account of some notable benefit conferred on men on that day, as the sabbath in the old law on account of the benefit of creation, and the day of Passover on account of the benefit of deliverance from Egypt; which is also evident in the feast days celebrated in the New Testament. He means, then, to signify by this that his nativity ought not to be reckoned among God's notable benefits, since he seems rather to have been born unto misery than unto joy. Second, a day is bright from the remembrance of men: for men are accustomed to keep certain days as festive, on which some great and joyful things befell them, as Herod and Pharaoh used to celebrate the day of their birth; this brightness, then, he removes from the aforesaid day, saying, and let it not be in remembrance — namely, the remembrance of men — because, evidently, nothing joyful happened on that day, but rather something sad, as appears from the outcome. Third, a day is bright from bodily light, and this brightness is taken away in several ways: first, indeed, by the withdrawal of the rays of the sun that illumine the earth, as is evident when the sun is eclipsed, and as to this he says, nor let it be lightened with light; second, by the interposition of clouds or other such things hiding the rays of the sun, and as to this he says, let darkness cover it; third, by a defect of the visual power, for when someone dies or is deprived of sight, the brightness of day is, as far as he is concerned, taken away, and as to this he says, and the shadow of death. Now the manner of the aforesaid darkening he explains in two ways: first, as to order, in that he says, let a mist seize upon it — for then a day is seized by a mist when upon a day previously shining darkness is suddenly and unexpectedly brought on, the like of which appears in the life of Job himself; second, as to the kind of darkness, in that he says, and let it be wrapped in bitterness, by which he gives us to understand that everything which has been said about the darkening is to be referred to the darkness of sadness — for he seems to observe this practice, of explaining a parabolic saying from something that follows. Through all these things, then, he means to say nothing other than that the day of his nativity ought to be judged a day not of joy but of grief, since through his nativity he came into a life subject to such great adversity. After the cursing, then, of the day of his nativity, he consequently curses the night of his conception according to a similar manner of speaking, and first he attributes to it that by which a night is rendered more horrible. For since night, on account of darkness, is horrid in itself, the more the darkness of night is increased, the more horrid it is rendered, which happens when some great tempest arises in the night; and as to this he says, let a dark whirlwind possess that night, as if he were to say: it would have been fitting for that night to be possessed by a dark whirlwind, that it might match my life, which is caught up in so great a whirlwind of adversity. Then he removes from it those things which seem to belong to the good of a night, and first as to the opinion of men. For since men distinguish times according to the things that are done in that time, and in the night few or no things worthy of memory are done, night is not noted in itself in men's memories, but as joined to the day. This good, then, he removes from the aforesaid night, saying, let it not be counted in the days of the year, nor numbered in the months, as if he were to say: that night is not worthy of memory, since nothing notable happened in it, but rather something sorrowful. Now among the nights that are kept in the memories of men, some are not only memorable but also celebrated and festive, in which men gather together to hold some feast, and this he removes, saying, let that night be solitary. Now such a gathering of men on some night takes place in praise and celebration of that night on account of some famous deed which is commemorated on that night, as is done among the faithful on the night of the Lord's resurrection; and therefore he adds, nor worthy of praise — for some night is worthy of praise on account of some great deed occurring on that night. From this, then, he means nothing other than to signify that his conception was not something great, nor ordered to good, but rather to the evil of adversity which he was feeling; hence he adds, let them curse it who curse the day, who are ready to raise up Leviathan. This, according to the letter, can be explained in two ways: in one way, according as by Leviathan is understood some great fish, as seems to fit with what is said of it at the end of this book, "Canst thou," he says, "draw out Leviathan with a hook?" And according to this it must be understood that those who fish for such great fish attack them by night, in darkness, and therefore when day begins to appear they curse the day, because by it their work and intention is impeded. In another way it can be understood that by Leviathan is signified the ancient dragon, namely the Devil, according to that word of Isaiah 27:1, "In that day the Lord with his hard and great and strong sword shall visit Leviathan the crooked serpent." Those, then, are ready to raise up Leviathan who strive to fulfill the suggestions of the Devil, giving themselves over to works of iniquity, who curse the day because, as it is said in John 4, "everyone that doth evil hateth the light," and below, in 24:15, it is said, "the eye of the adulterer watcheth for darkness," and afterward, "if suddenly the morning appear, he thinketh it the shadow of death." According to this, then, just as by his saying nor worthy of praise he means the aforesaid night to be hateful to the good, so by adding let them curse it, etc., he means it to be hateful to the evil as well: for both the good and the evil abhor adversity. Then he excludes from the aforesaid night those things which seem to belong to the natural good of a night, of which one is that a night is adorned by the sight of the stars, and this he removes, saying, let the stars be darkened with the mist thereof; another is that it is adorned by the hope of the day, and this he removes, saying, let it look for light and not see it, as if he were to say: although it is natural that in the night the light of day be looked for, yet let that night have infinite darkness, which is never terminated by the succession of the light of day. For the darkness of night is wholly excluded by the full light of day, but is diminished by the twilight of the dawn; he imprecates upon the aforesaid night not only that its darkness not be excluded by day, but that it not even be diminished by the dawn; hence he says, nor let it see the rising of the dawn as it rises. But because what he had said seemed impossible — namely, that day and dawn should not succeed the night — he shows from what sense this was said, adding, because it shut not up the doors of the belly that bore me. For the life of man is hidden in the mother's womb, hence it is compared to the darkness of night; but when through birth it comes forth into the open, then it bears a likeness to the clear day; therefore he said that that night should have neither day nor a following dawn to succeed it, in order to show that he wished his conception had never come to birth, nor to childhood, which is understood by the dawn, nor to youth, which is designated by the full light of day. Now he says because it shut not up, etc., not that the night itself shuts up the womb, that is, impedes birth, but because this is done in the night: for from the conception itself an impediment can be furnished so that the conceived does not come to birth. And because this too seemed unreasonable, that anyone should abhor life, since to be and to live is desirable to all, he shows for what reason he said this, when he adds, nor did it take away evils from mine eyes, as if he were to say: I do not abhor life itself for its own sake, but on account of the evils which I suffer; for although life in itself is desirable, yet not life subject to miseries is desirable. Here it must be considered that everything he had spoken figuratively above, he seems to have expounded by this final clause, which is also to be noted in his other sayings. Why did I not die in the womb? After he had cursed the day of his nativity and the night of his conception, in order to show that he abhorred the beginnings of his life, he now shows that he abhors his preservation in life, that from these things he might more manifestly show that his life is burdensome to him. Now there is a twofold state of life: one hidden, in which the conceived live in the womb; the other manifest, in which men live after their birth from the womb. As to the first state, then, he says, why did I not die in the womb? As to the second: why, having come forth from the womb, did I not perish at once? And of this second he treats first. Now it must be known that exterior life is taken away in two ways: sometimes indeed from some harm supervening, whether intrinsic, as is sickness, or extrinsic, as the sword or something of this kind, and to this can be referred what he said, having come forth from the womb, why did I not perish at once? Sometimes, however, from the withdrawal of a necessary aid, which is either extrinsic, as are conveyances, wrappings, and other such helps, and as to this he says, why was I received upon the knees? Or intrinsic, as is food, and as to this he says, or why was I suckled at the breasts? For the life of a newborn child needs these aids in its beginning. And because when someone says why was this done? he gives us to understand that this was done to no purpose, therefore he consequently shows that it would have been useless for him to have been preserved in life, indeed rather harmful. This he shows first as to the evils which he now suffers, saying, for now, sleeping, I should be silent — for he calls death a sleep on account of the hope of resurrection, of which he will speak more fully afterward; and by silence he understands rest from the adversities which he was suffering, as if he were to say: if I had died immediately after birth, I would not be disturbed by these evils which I suffer. Second, as to the good things which he had had before; for someone might say to him: if you had not been preserved in life, you would not have had the good things which you once had; but as if answering to this, he shows that not even on account of those goods of life ought his preservation to have been desired: for even those who throughout their whole life flourish in the greatest prosperity are brought to this same end, namely death; this, then, is what he means when he says, and in my sleep, that is, in death, I should be at rest — that is, I would be free from the disquietudes of life — with the kings and counselors of the earth. Now it must be known that of those who are established in positions of dignity, who seem most to prosper, the intention is either toward the enjoyment of pleasures, and as to these he says, who build themselves solitudes — according to the letter, wishing to be solitary for the sake of hunting or other pleasures — or toward the amassing of riches, and as to these he says, or with princes that possess gold, and fill their houses with silver, as if he were to say: if I had died immediately after birth, I would now have nothing less than those have, after death, who prosper in many things. Now it must be considered that, since to rest belongs only to that which subsists, from these words he gives us to understand that man, as to his soul, subsists after death. But if someone should object that such kings or princes of whom he speaks perhaps do not rest but are in the punishments of hell, or also that life was useful to Job himself in this, that it gained him merit, it must be noted that, as we said above, Job is now speaking from the person of the sensual part, expressing its affection, which has regard only to bodily and present goods or evils. Thus, then, after he has shown that it was not to be desired by him that he be preserved after his birth, he consequently shows that it was not to be desired by him that, being preserved in the womb, he should have come to birth, expounding what he had said above, why did I not die in the womb? Now it must be considered that some die in the womb before the infusion of the rational soul, which alone is immortal, and as to this he says, or as one hidden and untimely born, I should not have subsisted — for from such abortive offspring nothing perpetual remains; but some die after the infusion of the rational soul, who indeed subsist after death as to the soul, but do not see the light of this world, and as to this he says, or, understand "as," they who, being conceived, have not seen the light — namely, of the present life. And that this would have been desirable for him he shows by this, that he would not have been subject to the evils of this life; hence he says, there — that is, in the state of those who, being conceived, have not seen the light — the wicked have ceased from tumult, namely that which they inflicted upon others by afflicting them, which refers to freedom from the evil of guilt; and there — that is, in the state of the dead — those wearied in strength, that is, warriors who have been fatigued by waging wars, have rested — that is, they have been free from such toil, because, as has been said, he now speaks only of rest from the evils of the present life; it can also be understood of weariness in whatever labor one endures by working with his strength. And those who were once bound shall be there together without disquiet, that is, without their former distress, together with those who kept them bound; and there men oppressed by forced labors or servitudes have not heard the voice of the taskmaster, according to that which is said in Isaiah 14:4, "How hath the oppressor ceased, the tribute hath ceased!" And that this is true he shows by adding, the small and the great are there, and they are alike, for smallness and greatness in this life are according to the inequality of earthly prosperity, which being removed, men remain equal according to nature; what he says, then, the small and the great, must be understood thus: that is, those who in this life differed according to the greatness of earthly prosperity. It must be known, however, that a difference of greatness and smallness according to spiritual goods remains even there, but of these he is not now speaking, as has already been said. And there the servant is free from his master, wherefore forced labor or anything of the sort will have no place. Why is light given to the wretched? After Job had detested his own life in many ways, he now detests, in common, the life of the whole human race — both as to those who are in prosperity and as to those who are in adversity — of which he treats first, beginning, as it were, from what is more manifest. Now it must be known that among the living two things seem to be principal, namely, to live and to know. And indeed to know, although it is most delightful and most noble in itself, yet to know those things which afflict a man is painful; and therefore he says, why is light given to the wretched? as if he were to say: to what purpose does it profit a man subject to miseries that he has the light of knowledge, since through it he considers the evils by which he is afflicted? Now to live is noble on account of the soul; but if the soul is in bitterness, the very act of living is rendered bitter, and therefore he says, and life to them that are in bitterness of soul, resuming, why is it given? And that it is given uselessly he shows by this reasoning, that the contrary of it is desired by the wretched; hence he says, who — namely, those existing in bitterness — look for death, and it cometh not — namely, as quickly as they wish. And to show that they look for death not shrinking from it but desiring it, he adds, as they that dig for a treasure — those, namely, who are kindled with great desire that by digging they may arrive at the treasure. And because desire, when fulfilled, brings forth joy, he adds, and they rejoice exceedingly when they have found the grave — that is, when they see themselves arrive at death, through which they find the grave. Some, indeed, refer this to those who dig for treasure, who rejoice at having found a grave, because in ancient tombs treasures were accustomed to be found; but the first exposition is better. And because someone might say that although life is given uselessly to the wretched, yet it is given usefully to those who are in prosperity, to remove this he adds, to a man whose way is hidden — understand, why is light and life given? For a man's way is hidden because it is not known to what point the state of present prosperity will come; for it is said in Proverbs 14:13, "Laughter shall be mingled with sorrow, and mourning taketh hold of the end of joy," and it is said in Jeremiah 10:23, "the way of man is not his own," and in Ecclesiastes 7:1, "What need is it for a man to seek things above him, whereas he knoweth not what is profitable for him in his life?... Or who can tell him what shall be after him under the sun?" How it is, however, that a man's way is hidden, he explains, adding, and God hath surrounded him with darkness, which indeed is manifest in many ways: as to those things which are before and after, according to that word of Ecclesiastes 8:6-7, "the affliction of man is great upon him," for he is ignorant of the past, and the future he can know by no messenger; and as to those things which are alongside, namely, in men, according to that word of 1 Corinthians 2:11, "who knoweth the things of a man, but the spirit of the man which is in him?" And as to those things which are above, according to that word of 1 Timothy, at the end, "who inhabiteth light inaccessible," namely God, "whom no man hath seen, nor can see"; and it is said in the Psalm that "he made darkness his covert"; and as to those things which are below, for it is said in Ecclesiastes 1:8, "All things are difficult, man cannot explain them by speech." Now God is said to have surrounded man with darkness because God granted him such an understanding that he cannot know the aforesaid things. Having shown, then, that the life of men is difficult on account of the misery and bitterness of men, he applies to himself these things which he had said in common, expressing his own bitterness when he says, before I eat I sigh; for as laughter is a sign of joy, so sighing is a sign of the bitterness of the soul: he shows, then, from the manner of his sighing the measure of his bitterness. His sighing, then, both began early — for he says, before I eat I sigh — and it was continual and great; hence he adds, and as overflowing waters, so is my roaring; for as sighing is a sign of moderate sadness, so roaring is a sign of a sadness that is vehement and can scarcely be borne. Now this roaring is compared to the roaring of water: for water is easily moved and makes a murmuring sound; so too a man set in great affliction is provoked to roaring by a slight recollection of his misery. He adds, moreover, of overflowing water, to show the continuity of his bitterness: for overflowing water is continually in motion and makes a sound. But because the bitterness of the soul arises from misery, after the bitterness of soul he adds, concerning his misery, saying, for the fear which I feared hath come upon me. And it must be noted that the misery of man that provokes to bitterness seems to consist in two things: in losses of goods or of person, and in dishonors. As to the first, then, he says, the fear which I feared hath come upon me, that is, the things which I feared have befallen me, whereby the magnitude of his losses and punishments is expressed; for the more prudent someone is, the more, in a state of prosperity, he considers beforehand what may happen to him in a time of adversity, according to that word of Ecclesiasticus 11:27, "In the day of good things be not unmindful of evils"; great, then, was the misery which the most prudent Job was suffering, since the things he had feared befell him. As to the second, namely as to dishonors, he says, and what I was afraid of hath come to me; for shame, according to the Philosopher, is a fear of dishonor; by this, then, he shows that from great glory he had fallen into many reproaches and dishonors. Now someone is accustomed to suffer misery and bitterness, but through his own fault; Job removes this, saying, have I not dissembled? And it must be known that someone offends, and thereby merits punishment from God, in two ways: in one way, when from injuries inflicted upon him he is provoked beyond measure to revenge, according to what is said in the Psalm, "If I have rendered to them that repaid me evils, let me deservedly fall empty before my enemies" — this he removes from himself, saying, have I not dissembled? — namely, the injuries done to me; in another way, when he himself first offends another, either by words, and this he removes, saying, have I not been silent? as if he were to say, I have uttered to no one contumelious or injurious words; or by deeds, and this he removes from himself, saying, have I not been quiet? for the wicked are like the raging sea which cannot rest, Isaiah 57:20. And although I am innocent, yet indignation is come upon me, that is, punishment from God — for wrath in God is not taken for a disturbance of mind, but for punishment — in which he recognizes that the adversities of this world do not come about apart from the divine nod. If, then, someone wishes to gather what has been said in this lament of Job, it must be known that three things are contained in it: for first he shows that his life is wearisome to him; second, the magnitude of the misery which he was suffering, there, before I eat, etc.; third, he shows his own innocence, when he says, have I not dissembled, and so forth.”

“For my sighing cometh before I eat,.... Or, "before my bread", or "food" (g); before he sat down to eat, or had tasted of his food, there were nothing but sighing and sobbing, so that he had no appetite for his food, and could take no delight in it; and, while he was eating, his tears mingled with it, so that these were his meat and his drink continually, and he was fed with the bread and water of affliction; and therefore what were light and life to such a person, who could not have the pleasure of one comfortable meal? and my roarings are poured out like the waters; he not only wept privately and in secret, and cried more publicly both to God and in the presence of men, but such was the force and weight of his affliction, that he even roared out, and that like a lion; and his afflictions, which were the cause of these roarings, are compared to waters and the pouring of them out; for the noise these waterspouts made, and for the great abundance of them, and for their quick and frequent returns, and long continuance, one wave and billow rolling upon another. (g) "ante cibum meum", Junius & Tremellius, Piscator; "ante panem meum", Cocceius, Schmidt, Michaelis.”

“my sighing cometh before I eat--that is, prevents my eating [UMBREIT]; or, conscious that the effort to eat brought on the disease, Job must sigh before eating [ROSENMULLER]; or, sighing takes the place of good (Psa 42:3) [GOOD]. But the first explanation accords best with the text. my roarings are poured out like the waters--an image from the rushing sound of water streaming.”

“24 For instead of my food my sighing cometh, And my roarings pour themselves forth as water. 25 For I fear something terrible, and it cometh upon me, And that before which I shudder cometh to me. 26 I dwelt not in security, nor rested, nor refreshed myself: Then trouble cometh. That לפני may pass over from the local signification to the substitutionary, like the Lat. pro (e.g., pro praemio est), is seen from Job 4:19 (comp. Sa1 1:16): the parallelism, which is less favourable to the interpretation, before my bread (Hahn, Schlottm., and others), favours the signification pro here. The fut. consec. ויּתּכוּ (Kal of נתך) is to be translated, according to Ges. 129, 3, a, se effundunt (not effuderunt): it denotes, by close connection with the preceding, that which has hitherto happened. Just so v. 25a: I fear something terrible; forthwith it comes over me (this terrible, most dreadful thing). אתה is conjugated by the ה passing into the original א of the root (vid., Ges. 74, rem. 4). And just so the conclusion: then also forthwith רגן (i.e., suffering which disorders, rages and ransacks furiously) comes again. Schlottm. translates tamely and wrongly: then comes - oppression. Hahn, better: Nevertheless fresh trouble always comes; but the "nevertheless" is incorrect, for the fut. consec. indicates a close connection, not contrast. The praett., Job 3:26, give the details of the principal fact, which follows in the fut. consec.: only a short cessation, which is no real cessation; then the suffering rages afresh. Why - one is inclined to ask respecting this first speech of Job, which gives rise to the following controversy - why does the writer allow Job, who but a short time before, in opposition to his wife, has manifested such wise submission to God's dealings, all at once to break forth in such despair? Does it not seem as though the assertion of Satan were about to be confirmed? Much depends upon one's forming a correct and just judgment respecting the state of mind from which this first speech proceeds. To this purpose, consider (1) That the speech contains no trace of what the writer means by את־האלהים ברך: Job nowhere says that he will have nothing more to do with God; he does not renounce his former faithfulness: (2) That, however, in the mind of the writer, as may be gathered from Job 2:10, this speech is to be regarded as the beginning of Job's sinning. If a man, on account of his sufferings, wishes to die early, or not to have been born at all, he has lost his confidence that God, even in the severest suffering, designs his highest good; and this want of confidence is sin. There is, however, a great difference between a man who has in general no trust in God, and in whom suffering only makes this manifest in a terrible manner, and the man with whom trust in God is a habit of his soul, and is only momentarily repressed, and, as it were, paralysed. Such interruption of the habitual state may result from the first pressure of unaccustomed suffering; it may then seem as though trust in God were overwhelmed, whereas it has only given way to rally itself again. It is, however, not the greatness of the affliction in itself which shakes his sincere trust in God, but a change of disposition on the part of God which seems to be at work in the affliction. The sufferer considers himself as forgotten, forsaken, and rejected of God, as many passages in the Psalms and Lamentations show: therefore he sinks into despair: and in this despair expression is given to the profound truth (although with regard to the individual it is a sinful weakness), that it is better never to have been born, or to be annihilated, than to be rejected of God (comp. Mat 26:24, καλὸν ἦ αὐτῷ ει ̓ οὐκ ἐγεννήθη ὁ ἄνθρωπος ἐκεῖνος). In such a condition of spiritual, and, as we know from the prologue, of Satanic temptation (Luk 22:31; Eph 6:16), is Job. He does not despair when he contemplates his affliction, but when he looks at God through it, who, as though He were become his enemy, has surrounded him with this affliction as with a rampart. He calls himself a man whose way is hidden, as Zion laments, Isa 40:27, "My way is hidden from Jehovah;" a man whom Eloah has hedged round, as Jeremiah laments over the ruins of Jerusalem, Lam 3:1-13 (in some measure a comment on Job 3:23), "I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of His wrath ... . He has hedged me round that I cannot get out, and made my chain heavy." In this condition of entire deprivation of every taste of divine goodness, Job breaks forth in curses. He has lost wealth and children, and has praised God; he has even begun to bear an incurable disease with submission to the providence of God. Now, however, when not only the affliction, but God himself, seems to him to be hostile (nunc autem occultato patre, as Brentius expresses it), (Note: Fries, in his discussion of this portion of the book of Job, Jahrbb. fr Deutsche Theologie, 1859, S. 790ff., is quite right that the real affliction of Job consists in this, that the inward feeling of being forsaken of God, which was hitherto strange to him, is come upon him. But the remark directed against me, that the feeling of being forsaken of God does not always stand in connection with other affliction, but may come on the favoured of God even in the midst of uninterrupted outward prosperity, does not concern me, since it is manifestly by the dispensations which deprive him of all his possessions, and at last affect him corporeally and individually, that Job is led to regard himself as one forsaken of God, and still more than that, one hated by God; and since, on the other hand also, this view of the tempted does not appear to be absolutely subjective, God has really withdrawn from Job the external proof, and at the same time the feeling, of His abiding love, in order to try the fidelity of His servant's love, and prove its absoluteness.) we hear from his mouth neither words of praise (the highest excellence in affliction) nor words of resignation (duty in affliction), but words of despair: his trust in God is not destroyed, but overcast by thick clouds of melancholy and doubt. It is indeed inconceivable that a New Testament believer, even under the strongest temptation, should utter such imprecations, or especially such a question of doubt as in Job 3:20 : Wherefore is light given to the miserable? But that an Old Testament believer might very easily become involved in such conflicts of belief, may be accounted for by the absence of any express divine revelation to carry his mind beyond the bounds of the present. Concerning the future at the period when the book of Job was composed, and the hero of the book lived, there were longings, inferences, and forebodings of the soul; but there was no clear, consoling word of God on which to rely, - no θεῖος λόγος which, to speak as Plato (Phaedo, p. 85, D), could serve as a rescuing plank in the shipwreck of this life. Therefore the πανταχοῦ θρυλλούμενον extends through all the glory and joy of the Greek life from the very beginning throughout. The best thing is never to have been born; the second best, as soon as possible thereafter, to die. The truth, that the suffering of this present time is not worthy of the glory which shall be revealed in us, was still silent. The proper disposition of mind, under such veiling of the future, was then indeed more absolute, as faith committed itself blindfold to the guidance of God. But how near at hand was the temptation to regard a troublous life as an indication of the divine anger, and doubtingly to ask, Why God should send the light of life to such! They knew not that the present lot of man forms but the one half of his history: they saw only in the one scale misery and wrath, and not in the other the heaven of love and blessedness to be revealed hereafter, by which these are outweighed; they longed for a present solution of the mystery of life, because they knew nothing of the possibility of a future solution. Thus it is to be explained, that not only Job in this poem, but also Jeremiah in the book of his prophecy, Job 20:14-18, curses the day of his birth. He curses the man who brought his father the joyous tidings of the birth of a son, and wishes him the fate of Sodom and Gomorrha. He wishes for himself that his mother might have been his grave, and asks, like Job, "Wherefore came I forth out of the womb to see labour and sorrow, and that my days should be consumed in shame?" Hitzig remarks on this, that it may be inferred from the contents and form of this passage, there was a certain brief disturbance of spirit, a result of the general indescribable distress of the troublous last days of Zedekiah, to which the spirit of the prophet also succumbed. And it is certainly a kind of delirium in which Jeremiah so speaks, but there is no physical disorder of mind with it: the understanding of the prophet is so slightly and only momentarily disturbed, that he has the rather gained power over his faith, and is himself become one of its disturbing forces. Without applying to this lyric piece either the standard of pedantic moralizing, or of minute criticism as poetry, the intense melancholy of this extremely plaintive prophet may have proceeded from the following reasoning: After I have lived ten long years of fidelity and sacrifice to my prophetic calling, I see that it has totally failed in its aim: all my hopes are blighted; all my exhortations to repentance, and my prayers, have not availed to draw Judah back from the abyss into which he is now cast, nor to avert the wrath of Jehovah which is now poured forth: therefore it had been better for me never to have been born. This thought affects the prophet so much the more, since in every fibre of his being he is an Israelite, and identifies the weal and woe of his people with his own; just as Moses would rather himself be blotted out form the book of life than that Israel should perish, and Paul was willing to be separated from Christ as anathema if he could thereby save Israel. What wonder that this thought should disburden itself in such imprecations! Had Jeremiah not been born, he would not have had occasion to sit on the ruins of Jerusalem. But his outburst of feeling is notwithstanding a paroxysm of excitement, for, though reason might drive him to despair, faith would teach him to hope even in the midst of downfall; and in reality, this small lyric piece in the collective prophecy of Jeremiah is only as a detached rock, over which, as a stream of clear living water, the prophecy flows on more joyous in faith, more certain of the future. In the book of Job it is otherwise; for what in Jeremiah and several of the psalms is compressed into a small compass, - the darkness of temptation and its clearing up, - is here the substance of a long entanglement dramatically presented, which first of all becomes progressively more and more involved, and to which this outburst of feeling gives the impulse. As Jeremiah, had he not been born, would not have sat on the ruins of Jerusalem; so Job, had he not been born, would not have found himself in this abyss of wrath. Neither of them knows anything of the future solution of every present mystery of life; they know nothing of the future life and the heavenly crown. This it is which, while it justifies their despair, casts greater glory round their struggling faith. The first speaker among the friends, who now comes forward, is Eliphaz, probably the eldest of them. In the main, they all represent one view, but each with his individual peculiarity: Eliphaz with the self-confident pathos of age, and the mien of a prophet; (Note: A. B. Davidson thinks Eliphaz is characterized as "the oldest, the most dignified, the calmest, and most considerate of Job's friends.") Bildad with the moderation and caution befitting one poorer in thought; Zophar with an excitable vehemence, neither skilled nor disposed for a lasting contest. The skill of the writer, as we may here at the outset remark, is manifested in this, that what the friends say, considered in itself, is true: the error lies only in the inadequacy and inapplicability of what is said to the case before them.”