The paths of their steps are entangled: they shall walk in vain, and shall perish.

“JOB MEANS TO SAY THIS: there is no memory or trace left of my former prosperity. And that is even worse than my misfortune itself. "Oh, that one would indeed weigh the wrath that is upon me and take up my sorrow in a balance together!" And Job now tries to describe his sorrows. "I perceive my food to be loathsome [as the smell of a lion]." I wish to die, but I do not die. I suffer so because I am a man and not a stone; I am an ephemeral human being, I do not enjoy the aid from above. Among my nearest relations, some pass me by without seeing me; others trample me underfoot. No trace of my former prosperity remains.”

“The paths of their steps are involved. All that is involved is folded back into itself. And there are some who as it were resolve, with all the purpose of their heart, to resist the vicious habits that mislead them, but when the crisis of the temptation comes full upon them, they do not hold out in their purposed resolution. For one swoln with the bad daring of pride, when he sees that the rewards promised to humility are great, lifts himself up against himself, and as it were puts away the swelling and turgid bigness of pride, and vows to prove himself humble under whatever insults; but when he has been suddenly assailed with the injuriousness of a single word, he straight-way returns to his accustomed haughtiness, and is brought into such a swelling temper of mind, that he does not at all remember that he had made it his object to win the blessed attainment of humility. Another, fired with avarice, is out of breath with eagerness in adding to his means. When he sees that all things speedily pass away, he arrests his mind, which is roaming abroad through covetous desires, he determines henceforth not to set his heart on any thing, and to hold what he has already gotten only under the reins of great control; but when objects that delight him are suddenly presented to his eyes, thereupon the heart beats high in the ambition to obtain them, the mind cannot contain itself, it looks about for an opportunity of getting them, and unmindful of the moderation which it had covenanted with itself, in longings for the attainment of them, disquiets itself with goading thoughts. Another is polluted by the corruption of lust, and is now bound and chained with long usage, but he sees how excellent is the pureness of chastity, and finds it a foul disgrace to be mastered by the flesh. Therefore he resolves to restrain the dissoluteness of his pleasures, and seems to set himself with all his powers to make a stand against habit; but upon the image being either presented to his eyes, or recalled to his recollection, when he is moved by a sudden temptation, at once he becomes all adrift from his former state of preparation; and the same man, that had set up against it the shield of resolution, lies pierced with the javelin of self-indulgence, and he being unstrung is overcome by lust, like as if he had never made ready any weapons of resolve against it. Another is set on fire with the flames of anger, and is uncontrolled even to the extent of offering insults to his neighbours, but when no occasion of rage comes across his spirit, he considers how excellent the virtue of mildness is, how high the loftiness of patience, and sets himself in order to be patient even against insult: but when any slight matter arises to ruffle him, he is in a moment kindled from his heart's core to words and insults. So that not only the patience he had promised never returns to his remembrance, but that the mind neither knows its own self, nor those revilings which it utters. And when he has fully satisfied his rage, it is as if he returned after exercise to a state of tranquillity, and then he calls himself in again into the chambers of silence, when not patience, but the gratification of its hastiness has given a check to the tongue. Therefore even late, and after the insults have been offered, he scarcely restrains himself, seeing that fiery horses too are often checked from their career, not by the hands of the controller, but by the limits of the ground. Therefore it is well said of the reprobate, The paths of their way are involved. For in resolve they aim at right courses indeed, but are ever doubling back into their accustomed evil ones, and being, as it were, drawn out without themselves, they return back to themselves in a round, who indeed desire good ways, but never depart from evil ways. For they wish to be humble, yet without being despised; to be content with their own, yet without suffering need; to be chaste, yet without mortification of the body; to be patient, yet without undergoing insults; and when they seek to make virtuous attainments, yet eschew the toils thereof, what else is this than that at one and the same time they know nothing of the conflicts of war in the field, and desire to have the triumphs for war in the city. Not but that this, that their ways are described as 'involved,' may be further understood in another sense also; for it often happens with some people that they stoutly gird themselves up to encounter some vices, but neglect to overcome others, and while they never lift themselves up against these, they are reestablishing against themselves even those which they had subdued. For one has now subdued the flesh from the dominion of lust, but he has not yet reined in the mind from avarice; and while he keeps himself in the world for the practising of avarice, and does not quit earthly courses, when the juncture of the occasion breaks out, he falls into lust also, which sin he seemed to have already subdued. Another has overcome the violence of avarice, but he has never subdued the power of lust, and when he is providing the costs of fulfilling his lustful passion, he submits the neck of the heart to the yoke of avarice too, which he had for long got the mastery of. Another has now laid low rebellious impatience, but has not yet subdued vainglory; and when for this he winds himself into the honours of the world, being pierced with the irritation of cases that chance, he is brought back a captive to his impatience, and whilst vainglory lifts up the soul to the vindication of itself, being overcome it submits to that which it had got the upper hand over. Another has subdued vainglory, but has not yet brought down impatience. And when in impatience he utters a thousand threats to those that offer opposition, being ashamed not to execute what he says, he is brought back under the dominion of vainglory, and being subdued, by means of something else, he becomes liable to that, which he was rejoicing that he had fully conquered. Thus then the vices retain a hold over their runaway by mutual aid in turn, and they as it were receive him back, when already gone, under the rule of their dominion, and hand him over to each other by turns for vengeance. Thus 'the paths of the ways of the wicked are involved,' in that although by mastering one evil habit, they free the foot, yet, while another sways them, they entangle it in the very one, which they had conquered. But sometimes while the paths of their ways are involved, at once not a single sin is overcome, and one sin is done by occasion of another. For oftentimes to theft there is joined the deceit of denial, and often the sin of deceit is increased by the guilt of perjury. Often a misdeed is committed with shameless assurance, and often (which becomes worse than any fault) there is even a glorying in the commission of the misdeed. For though self-exaltation is apt to arise on the score of virtue, yet sometimes the foolish mind exalts itself on the grounds of the wickedness it has done. And when transgression is joined to transgression, what else is this than that the steps of the froward are bound in involved ways and entangled chains? Hence it is rightly delivered by Isaiah against the froward soul, under the likeness of Judaea, And it shall be an habitation of dragons, and a pasture for ostriches, and the demons shall meet with the onocentaurs, and the satyr shall cry to his fellow. For what is denoted by the 'dragons,' saving malice, and what by the name of 'ostriches,' saving hypocrisy; as an ostrich has the appearance of flight, but has not the use of flying, for that hypocrisy too impresses upon all beholders an image of sanctity in connection with itself, but knows not to maintain the life of sanctity. Therefore in the perverse mind the dragon lies down and the ostrich feeds, in that both lurking malice is cunningly covered, and the guise of goodness is set before the beholder's eyes. But what is represented by the title of 'onocentaurs,' saving those that be both lecherous and high-minded? for in the Greek tongue, 'onos' signifies 'an ass,' and by the designation of an 'ass' lust is denoted, according to the testimony of the Prophet, who says, Whose flesh is as the flesh of asses; but by the name of a 'bull' the neck of pride is set forth, as it is spoken by the Psalmist in the voice of the Lord concerning the Jews in their pride, Many bulls have compassed me; strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round. Thus they are 'onocentaurs,' who, being subject to vicious habits of lust, lift up their neck on account of the very same cause for which they ought to have been abased, who, in serving their fleshly gratifications, all sense of shame being put far from them, not only do not grieve that they have lost the way of uprightness, but further even exult in the working of confusion. Now 'the demons' meet with the 'onocentaurs,' in that the evil spirits readily serve to their wish all those whom they see rejoicing in the things which they ought to have bewailed; and it is fitly subjoined there, And the hairy satyr shall cry to his fellow. Now what others are represented by the title of 'the hairy one,' saving they which the Greeks call 'Pans,' and the Latins 'Incubi,' whose figure begins in the human form, but terminates in the extremity of a beast? Therefore by the designation of 'the hairy one' is denoted the ruggedness of every sin, which even if in any case it begins as if in a pretext of reason, yet always goes on to irrational motions; and it is like a man ending in a beast, whilst the sin, beginning in a copy of reason, draws him out even to a result devoid of reason. Thus often the pleasure of eating is subservient to gluttony, and it pretends to be subservient to the requirement of nature, and while it draws out the belly into gluttony, sets up the limbs in lasciviousness. Now 'the satyr crieth to his fellow,' when one wickedness perpetrated leads to the perpetration of another, and as if by a kind of voice of thought, a sin already committed invites another sin which yet remains to be committed. For oftentimes, as we have said, gluttony says, 'If you do not sustain the body with plentiful support, you can hold on in no useful labours;' and when it has kindled the mind by the desires of the flesh, immediately lust too in her turn forms words of her own prompting, saying, 'if God would not have human creatures united together in a bodily sort, He would never have made members in themselves suited to the purposes of so uniting;' and when it suggests these things as if in reason, it draws on the mind to unrestrained indulgence of the passions, and often when found out, immediately it looks out for the support of deceit and denial, and does not reckon itself guilty, if, by telling lies, its life may be protected. Thus 'the satyr crieth to his fellow,' when, under some semblance of reasoning, a sin following out of the occasion of a preceding sin ensnares the froward soul; and when harsh and rugged sins sink it low, it is as if 'the satyrs' ruled it, gathered together in it in concord; and thus it comes to pass that the ways of their paths are always involving themselves worse and worse, when sin taking occasion of sin enchains the lost soul. But here it is necessary to know that sometimes the eye of the understanding is first dulled, and then afterwards the mind being taken captive roams at random amidst outward objects of desire, so that the blinded soul knows nothing where it is being led, and willingly surrenders itself to the allurements of the fleshly part; while at other times the desires of the flesh first burst forth, and after long custom in forbidden courses, they close the eye of the heart. For often the mind discerns light ways, but does not lift itself up fearlessly against bad practices, and it is overcome while offering resistance, when the very thing that it does in exercising discernment is outdone by the pleasurable emotion of its partner the flesh. For that it very often happens that first the eye of contemplation is parted with, and afterwards the mind is subjected to the toils of the world through the desires of this our flesh, Samson is witness on being taken captive by the Philistines, who after he had lost his eyes was put to the mill, because the evil spirits, after that by the piercings of temptation they force out the eye of contemplation within, send it without into a round of labour. Again, that it often happens that both right practice is parted with externally, and yet the light of reason still retained in the heart, the Prophet Jeremiah instructs us, who, while he relates the captivity of Zedekiah, tells us the course of the captivity of the interior, in these words, Then the king of Babylon slew the sons of Zedekiah in Reblatha before his eyes; also the king of Babylon slew all the nobles of Judah. Moreover he put out Zedekiah's eyes. The king of Babylon is our old enemy, the master of the confusion of the interior, who first slaughters the sons before the eyes of the parent beholding it, in that he oftentimes so destroys good works, that the very man who is taken captive perceives with terror that he is parting with them. For the soul very often groans, but yet being subdued by the enjoyments of its fellow the flesh, the good things which it begot it loses while it loves them; it sees the ills, which it undergoes, and yet never lifts the arm of virtue against that king of Babylon. But whilst having its eyes open it is struck with the doing of iniquity, by being used to sin it is one day brought to this, that it is bereft of the very light of reason itself also. Whence the king of Babylon, after his sons had been first put to death, plucked out Zedekiah's eyes, in that the evil spirit, after that good deeds have been first put away, afterwards takes away the light of understanding likewise. Which rightly befals Zedekjah in Reblatha, for 'Reblatha' is rendered 'these many.' For he at last has even the light of reason too closed, who is weighed down by bad habit in the multitude of his iniquities. But in whatever way sin may come forth, or from whatever occasion it may spring, yet the ways of the reprobate are always 'involved,' so that, being abandoned to depraved lusts, they either do not pursue good things at all, or pursuing them with a weak aim, they never stretch out the unimpeded steps of the mind in pursuit of them. For either they do not set out with right aims, or, breaking down in the very way, they never attain to them. Whence it generally happens that tiring of them they return to their own ways, prostrate themselves from their settled purpose of mind in the enjoyments of the flesh, mind only the things that are transitory, and take no heed of those which are calculated to abide with them. Whence it is fitly subjoined, They shall walk unto emptiness, and perish. For they all 'walk unto emptiness,' who bring with them nothing of the fruit of their labour. Thus one man spends himself in the attainment of honours, another is in a fever with multiplying his means, another pants after the obtaining of applause; but because everyone at his death leaves all such things here, he has lost his labour on emptiness, who has brought nothing with him before the presence of the Judge. Contrary whereto it is well delivered in the Law, Thou shalt not appear before the face of the Lord empty. For he that has not provided for himself the wages of life earned by well doing, 'appears before the Lord empty.' Hence it is said of the just by the Psalmist, But they shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing their sheaves with them. For they come to the inquisition of Judgment, 'bringing their sheaves with them,' who exhibit in themselves those good works, whereby they may obtain life. Hence the Psalmist says again concerning every Elect person, Who hath not taken his soul in vain. For everyone 'takes his soul in vain,' who, taking account of present things only, pays no heed to those that shall follow him to last for ever. He 'takes his soul in vain,' who, being unconcerned for the life thereof, prefers to it the care of the flesh; but the righteous do not 'take their soul in vain,' in that whatsoever they do through the instrumentality of the body, with stedfast purpose they make all tell to its weal, that even though the deed pass away, still the cause of the deed may never pass, in that after life it procures the rewards of life. But the reprobate are indifferent to take account of these; for verily 'going walking into emptiness,' in pursuing life they flee from it, and in finding it they lose it.”

“Job answering said. As is clear from what precedes, Eliphaz had noted three things in Job's lament: despair, because he seemed to desire not to be; impatience, or immoderate sorrow, on account of the sighs and groans which he said he was suffering; and presumption, because he had asserted himself to be innocent. And the whole of Eliphaz's preceding speech turned upon these three things, in which — to show that Job had been subject to sin and had therefore endured adversities — he proposed, among other things, the frailty of the human condition, from which no one can presume himself immune from sin: from this, then, Job takes the beginning of his response. For it is certain that, from the frailty of the human condition, no man is immune from sin, however just he may appear; yet in just men there are not grave and mortal sins, but there are in them light and venial sins, which arise from negligence and subreption. But if what Eliphaz was striving to assert were true — namely, that the adversities of the present life are the proper punishments of sins — it would follow that men would suffer grave adversities on account of grave sins, and light ones on account of light sins, and thus just men would never be subject to grave adversities, which is clearly false. This argument, therefore, Job proposes against Eliphaz's disputation; hence it is said, Job answering said: "Oh that my sins, by which I have deserved wrath, and the calamity that I suffer, were weighed in a balance." As if to say: I cannot say that there are no sins in me, yet I trust that they are not mortal but venial in me; if, therefore, for sins of this sort I have deserved from God wrath, that is, punishment, the calamity and the sin ought to have been weighed in the balance of justice, so that, according to equality, the one might correspond to the other. But the adversity appears much greater, and this is what he adds: "as the sand of the sea," that is, incomparably — this, namely the calamity, would appear graver, if Eliphaz's opinion were true, that adversities in this world are inflicted only according to sins, since it appears that many wicked men, in comparison with whose sins Job's sins were as nothing, endure only certain light adversities. From this he further proceeds to excuse himself from the sorrow which he had expressed in words, saying, "wherefore also my words are full of sorrow," which he infers by way of conclusion, because his sorrow was caused by the magnitude of the adversity. He then adds a twofold cause of his sorrow: for sorrow is caused sometimes by things which one has already suffered, and sometimes by things which one fears to suffer. First, then, he assigns the cause of his sorrow from the things he had already suffered, saying, "for the arrows of the Lord are in me," in which he shows that he was afflicted unexpectedly, for an arrow comes from afar and unexpectedly; and to show the magnitude of the blow he adds, "the indignation whereof hath drunk up my spirit," that is, it did not permit me to breathe, but took away entirely whatever strength or consolation could have been in me. Then he shows the cause of his sorrow from the things he feared to suffer, saying, "and the terrors of God war against me": for those afflicted are wont to be consoled by hope of a better state, but when after affliction someone fears again similar or greater things, no consolation seems to remain. But someone might say: you indeed have a cause of sorrow, but you ought not, on account of it, to break forth into words of sorrow. Against this Job responds from what is found in other animals. For man is similar to other animals in his sensitive nature, wherefore those things which follow upon sensitive nature are naturally present in man just as in other animals; but what is natural cannot be wholly avoided. Now it is found in other animals that they express the affliction of the heart by voice, and this he signifies, saying: "Will the wild ass bray when he hath grass? Or will the ox low when he standeth before a full manger?" As if to say, no; but the wild ass brays and the ox lows when they lack necessary food, in which it appears to be natural to animals that they express interior affliction by voice. Again, someone might say that it is natural for sorrow once conceived to be expressed by voice, but that it does not pertain to the wise man to conceive sorrow in his heart from just any causes, as the Stoics held. But Job shows this to be against sensitive nature: for sense cannot but flee from what is harmful or unfitting, and therefore he says, "Or can that which is unsavoury be eaten, that is not seasoned with salt?" As if to say, no, since indeed things of this insipid sort are not suited to the delight of taste; and likewise the heart of man cannot willingly accept things that are not delightful, and much less those that are bitter and harmful, wherefore he adds, "Or can a man taste that which, when tasted, brings death?" As if to say, no; and just as this is impossible in the exterior sense, so it is impossible that those things which are apprehended through the interior senses as harmful should be received without sorrow. But because, although the wise man suffers sorrow, his reason nevertheless is not absorbed by sorrow, Job consequently shows that although he suffered sorrow, yet there was in him the greatest solicitude and fear that he might guard himself against sorrow, lest through sorrow he be led into something vicious; and to avoid this he preferred death, and to express this he says, "the things my soul before would not touch, now, through anguish, are my meats," as if to say: the things which my soul formerly abhorred, it now delightfully desires. And what these things are he shows, saying, "Who will grant that my request may come?" And that it may be shown that he proposes this request not merely with the lips but also from the depths of his heart, he adds, "and that God may give me what I look for?" And what this request is he shows, adding, "and that he that hath begun," namely to afflict me, "may destroy me," namely by death; and this is what he adds, "that he may let loose his hand and cut me off?" By the hand of God he means the divine power by which God himself had afflicted him — which hand seems, in a certain way, to be bound by the divine will and mercy while it ceases to afflict, but is, in a certain way, loosed while the divine blow is brought to the end of slaying. And because he had said that the things he formerly would not touch are now his food, he shows how this is to be understood, namely that death, which had been horrible to him, has now become sweet; hence he adds, "and this be my comfort, that afflicting me with sorrow," namely God, "he spare not," that is, that he not withdraw his hand but bring me to death. And why he desires this he shows by what he adds, "and I will not contradict the words of the Holy One," that is, of God — that is, his judgments or sentences by which he has afflicted me. For Job feared lest, through many afflictions, he be led into impatience, such that reason could not repress sorrow; now the nature of impatience is when someone's reason is so led away by sorrow that it contradicts the divine judgments; but if someone indeed suffers sorrow according to the sensual part, while reason conforms itself to the divine will, this is not the defect of impatience; and thus Eliphaz argued against Job in vain when he had said, "now the scourge is come upon thee, and thou hast fainted": for although he sorrowed, yet he had not fainted. Then he assigns the reason, from his own frailty, why he feared lest he be brought to the point of contradicting the words of the Holy One. For a fear of this kind could be removed for a twofold reason: first, if he had such strength of reason that it could in no way be overcome, as is the case with those whose free will has been confirmed by grace; but he did not feel this strength in himself, wherefore he says, "for what is my strength, that I can hold out?" namely, whatever tribulations may come; secondly, if it were necessary to bear the tribulations and sorrows only for some brief time; and therefore, to remove this too, he adds, "or what is my end, that I should act patiently?" As if to say: what limit has been set to my tribulations, such that, waiting until it, I might presume that I would preserve patience? And in explanation of these he adds, saying, "neither is my strength the strength of stones": for the strength of stones is without sense; but the strength of man exists together with a sense of the things that are harmful, on account of which he adds, "nor is my flesh of brass," that is, without sense, because however strong the reason of mortal man may be, yet it is necessary that, on the part of the flesh, he experience the sense of sorrow. And by this the reproach of Eliphaz, who charged blessed Job with sorrow, is excluded: for although strength of mind was present in blessed Job, yet on the part of the flesh there was present a sense of sorrow, which sorrow followed. At the same time, by this the opinion of the Stoics, who said that the wise man does not sorrow, is also refuted — an opinion which Eliphaz seems to have held; but blessed Job intends to defend this: that the wise man indeed sorrows, but strives through reason not to be led into what is unfitting, which the Peripatetics also held. "Behold, there is no help for me in myself," etc. Job had shown in what precedes that he had reasonably felt sorrow and uttered words of sorrow, yet that he was not absorbed by sorrow on account of what he had suffered; but because sometimes a man, although he suffers certain adversities, so guards himself against adversities by his own and another's help and comfort that he conceives from them little or no sorrow, blessed Job wishes to show that he was destitute of remedies of this kind, so that from this it may appear more evidently that he had reasonably uttered words of sorrow. And first indeed he shows that he was destitute of the aforesaid remedies on his own part, when he says, "behold, there is no help for me in myself": for even if some of his goods had been plundered, he could bear this without sorrow if he could help himself to recover the lost goods and to avenge the injury inflicted; but he could not do this, being destitute of all his riches, his children, and the health of his own body. Again, there are many things we cannot do by ourselves which we can do through friends; and therefore Job secondly shows that he was also destitute of the help of friends, when he says, "and my kinsfolk also," that is, his household and domestics, "have departed from me." And that this was not without their fault, he shows, adding, "he that taketh away mercy from his friend," namely in the time of misery, "forsaketh the fear of the Lord," that is, the reverence which he ought to have toward God, on account of whom, and in whom, one's neighbor is to be loved: "he who does not love his brother whom he sees, how can he love God whom he does not see?" as is said in John 4:20. Then he shows that he was also forsaken by his kinsmen, saying, "my brethren," that is, his relatives, "have passed me by": he speaks after the likeness of those walking together on a road, as when one falls into a pit and the others nonetheless go on ahead, leaving him behind. And indeed they would be in some way excusable if, after having brought help for some time, they had abandoned him either out of weariness or out of despair of helping; and therefore, that they may be inexcusable, he shows that he was immediately and suddenly deserted by them, which he signifies when he adds, "as a torrent that passeth swiftly in the valleys," which moves very quickly. And lest they believe they have done this with impunity, he adds, "they who fear the frost, snow shall fall upon them," as if to say: he who, out of fear of a lesser danger, departs from justice and mercy will be led into greater dangers; wherefore also Job's brethren, who passed him by unwilling to have compassion, will themselves bear sorrow in their own losses. And that their dangers will be in the future without remedy he shows, adding, "at the time wherein they shall be scattered," that is, when they shall incur certain dangers, "they shall perish," namely entirely, "and after it groweth hot, they shall be melted out of their place." He speaks under the metaphor of the snow, of which he had made mention, which, when it has been much hardened by freezing, is not immediately dissolved at the first warmth, but when it is not yet frozen, it is immediately dissolved and flows at the ray of the sun: this, then, is what he says, "after it groweth hot, they shall be melted out of their place," that is, at the very first onset of adversity, as of a certain heat, all their prosperity will be dissolved. And he shows the cause, adding, "the paths of their steps are entangled": for that which is entangled turns back upon itself by a certain twistedness; the paths, therefore, are entangled of those who, in their kinsmen and friends, seek nothing but their own advantage, and on this account, in the time of prosperity, feign friendship, but in the time of adversity forsake it. But men who fraudulently seek their own advantage for the most part fall short of their hope, and therefore he adds, "they shall walk in vain": for some are said to walk in vain when they fall short of the goal of their walking; and not only will their hope be emptied, but also the contrary will happen to them, wherefore it follows, "and shall perish," that is, they shall be utterly destroyed. Thus, then, he had help neither in himself, nor in his household, nor in his kinsmen. He then shows that neither did he have it in other friends, wherefore he says, "consider the paths of Theman, the ways of Saba," in which regions he seemed especially to have had friends — for Eliphaz too had come from Theman — "and wait a little while," namely, considering whether any came by these roads to bring me help; and this you will not see, "because they are confounded," namely to come to me, "because I hoped," that is, because it was a time in which I ought to have hoped for help from them: for men who are unwilling to give help are ashamed to visit those from whom they reckon that help could reasonably be sought of them; "they came also," namely, some of them, "even to me, and were covered with shame," namely because they did not give me help, though they recognized that they owed it. Nor is it surprising in the case of others, since even you, who seem wiser, fail in this too, wherefore he adds, "now you are come, and now, seeing my affliction, you are afraid," namely lest perhaps it should be necessary for you to bring me help; but do not be afraid, for I have not sought your help in anything: for neither do I require of you that you should assist me with money, and this is what he says, "did I say: bring to me, and give me of your substance?" Nor have I sought from you help in war against enemies, and this is what he adds, "deliver me from the hand of the enemy, and rescue me out of the hand of the mighty?" Nor have I sought from you the help of teaching, and this is what he says: "did I say: teach me," namely, in speculative matters, "and I will hold my tongue: and if I have been ignorant of anything perhaps, instruct me?" namely, in matters of action. Nor do you only fail to offer me help, but also, as much as is in you, you further afflict me with words, and this is what he adds, "why have you detracted from the words of truth?" namely, those which I first uttered in my lamentation, which Eliphaz seemed to reprove, as has been said. And that this detraction may be shown to be inexcusable, he excludes all those things by which some reprover might be excused from detraction. The first of these is when someone of greater authority reproves another for a fault, and this he excludes, saying, "whereas there is none of you that can reprove me." The second is when someone utters hard words against another for that person's benefit and not to exasperate him, and this is what he adds, "to rebuke only, and not for advantage, do you compose your words," that is, you carefully compose them so that they may not seem to be spoken lightly. The third is when someone fortifies the words he utters against another with effective arguments, and this he removes, saying, "and you utter words into the wind," as if to say: your words are empty, having no strength of reason. The fourth is when someone reproves another at the time and in the state in which it can be presumed that he will not thereby become worse but better; but if someone wishes to reprove another at a time when he is dismayed in spirit and disposed to anger, he seems to wish not correction but subversion, and therefore he says, "you rush upon the fatherless, and you endeavor to overthrow your friend": he calls himself "the fatherless" because, set in sorrow, he was destitute of all help. And lest anyone should think that he said this fearing contention with them, as though he did not presume upon the truth of his own opinion and the justice of his own cause, he adds, "howbeit, finish what you have begun," so that from mutual disputation the truth may shine forth; wherefore he adds, "give ear," that is, listen, "and see," that is, consider, "whether I lie": for this is the first impediment to finding the truth through disputation, when someone is unwilling to hear what is said by his opponent. The second impediment is when someone responds to what he hears with clamor and insult, and to remove this he says, "answer, I beseech you, without contention": for contention, as Ambrose says, is "an assault upon truth relying on the confidence of clamor." The third impediment is when someone in disputation aims not at truth but at victory and glory, as happens in litigious and sophistical disputations: "and speaking, judge ye that which is just," that is, that you grant what seems true to you, and deny what seems false. And, if you do this, "you shall not find iniquity on my tongue," namely, anything against the justice which is owed to one's neighbor, "neither shall folly sound in my jaws," that is, anything against the wisdom by which one rightly thinks concerning God: for he intended, both concerning divine things and concerning human things, to defend and prove the truth.”

“The troops of Tema looked,.... A city in Arabia, so called from Tema a son of Ishmael, Gen 25:15; these troops or companies were travelling ones, either that travelled to Tema, or that went from thence to other places for merchandise, see Isa 21:13; these, as they passed along in their caravans, as the Turks their successors now do, looked at those places where in the wintertime they observed large waters frozen over, and covered with snow, and expected to have been supplied from thence in the summer season, for the extinguishing of their thirst: the companies of Sheba waited for them: another people in Arabia, which went in companies through the deserts, where being in great want of water for their refreshment, waited patiently till they came to those places, where they hoped to find water to relieve them, which they had before marked in the wintertime.”

“turned aside--rather, "caravans" (Hebrew, "travellers") turn aside from their way, by circuitous routes, to obtain water. They had seen the brook in spring full of water: and now in the summer heat, on their weary journey, they turn off their road by a devious route to reach the living waters, which they remembered with such pleasure. But, when "they go," it is "into a desert" [NOYES and UMBREIT]. Not as English Version, "They go to nothing," which would be a tame repetition of the drying up of the waters in Job 6:17; instead of waters, they find an "empty wilderness"; and, not having strength to regain their road, bitterly disappointed, they "perish." The terse brevity is most expressive.”

“18 The paths of their course are turned about, They go up in the waste and perish. 19 The travelling bands of Tma looked for them, The caravans of Saba hoped for them; 20 They were disappointed on account of their trust, They came thus far, and were red with shame. As the text is pointed, ארחות, Job 6:18, are the paths of the torrents. Hitz., Ew., and Schlottm., however, correct ארחות, caravans, which Hahn even thinks may be understood without correction, since he translates: the caravans of their way are turned about (which is intended to mean: aside from the way that they are pursuing), march into the desert and perish (i.e., because the streams on which they reckoned are dried up). So, in reality, all modern commentators understand it; but is it likely that the poet would let the caravans perish in Job 6:18, and in Job 6:19. still live? With this explanation, Job 6:19. drag along tautologically, and the feebler figure follows the stronger. Therefore we explain as follows: the mountain streams, נחלים, flow off in shallow serpentine brooks, and the shallow waters completely evaporate by the heat of the sun. בתּהוּ עלה signifies to go up into nothing (comp. Isa 40:23), after the analogy of בעשׁן כּלה, to pass away in smoke. Thus e.g., also Mercier: in auras abeunt, in nihilum rediguntur. What next happens is related as a history, Job 6:19., hence the praett. Job compares his friends to the wady swollen by ice and snow water, and even to the travelling bands themselves languishing for water. He thirsts for friendly solace, but the seeming comfort which his friends utter is only as the scattered meandering waters in which the mountain brook leaks out. The sing. בּטח individualizes; it is unnecessary with Olsh. to read בּטחוּ.”