Who will grant that my request may come: and that God may give me what I look for?

“Oh that I might have my request, and that God would grant me the thing that I long for! Even that He That hath begun would destroy me. Let him let loose His hand, and cut me off! Let this be my comfort; that He should afflict me with sorrow, and not spare. But perchance he entreats such things through stubbornness, perchance, in that he wishes to be entirely annihilated, he charges the injustice of the smiter. Far be the thought! For with what feeling he begs it, he shews in the following words, saying, Nor will I gainsay the speech of the Holy One. So then he never murmurs against the injustice of Him that dealeth the blow, who even amidst the strokes calls his smiter 'the Holy One.' But we ought to know that it is sometimes the adversary, and sometimes God that bruises us with affliction. Now by the bruising of the adversary, we are made defaulters in virtue; but when we are broken by the bruising of the Lord, from vicious habits we are made strong in virtue. This bruising the Prophet had foreseen when he said, Thou shalt rule them with a rod of iron, Thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel. The Lord 'rules and breaks us with a rod of iron,' in that by the strong rule of righteousness in His dispensation, while He reanimates us within, He distresses us without. For as He abases the power of the flesh, He exalts the purpose of the spirit; and hence this bruising is compared to a potter's vessel, as is also delivered by Paul, But we have this treasure in earthen vessels. And describing at the same time the dashing in pieces and the ruling, he saith, Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. Let the holy man who is eager to draw near to God even through strokes, exclaim in the spirit of humility.”

“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.”

“Ungoverned passion often grows more violent when it meets with some rebuke and check. The troubled sea rages most when it dashes against a rock. Job had been courting death, as that which would be the happy period of his miseries, ch. 3. For this Eliphaz had gravely reproved him, but he, instead of unsaying what he had said, says it here again with more vehemence than before; and it is as ill said as almost any thing we meet with in all his discourses, and is recorded for our admonition, not our imitation. I. He is still most passionately desirous to die, as if it were not possible that he should ever see good days again in this world, or that, by the exercise of grace and devotion, he might make even these days of affliction good days. He could see no end of his trouble but death, and had not patience to wait the time appointed for that. He has a request to make; there is a thing he longs for (Job 6:8); and what is that? One would think it should be, "That it would please God to deliver me, and restore me to my prosperity again;" no, That it would please God to destroy me, Job 6:9. "As once he let loose his hand to make me poor, and then to make me sick, let him loose it once more to put an end to my life. Let him give the fatal stroke; it shall be to me the coup de grace - the stroke of favour," as, in France, they call the last blow which dispatches those that are broken on the wheel. There was a time when destruction from the Almighty was a terror to Job (Job 31:23), yet now he courts the destruction of the flesh, but in hopes that the spirit should be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. Observe, Though Job was extremely desirous of death, and very angry at its delays, yet he did not offer to destroy himself, nor to take away his own life, only he begged that it would please God to destroy him. Seneca's morals, which recommend self-murder as the lawful redress of insupportable grievances, were not then known, nor will ever be entertained by any that have the least regard to the law of God and nature. How uneasy soever the soul's confinement in the body may be, it must by no means break prison, but wait for a fair discharge. II. He puts this desire into a prayer, that God would grant him this request, that it would please God to do this for him. It was his sin so passionately to desire the hastening of his own death, and offering up that desire to God made it no better; nay, what looked ill in his wish looked worse in his prayer, for we ought not to ask any thing of God but what we can ask in faith, and we cannot ask any thing in faith but what is agreeable to the will of God. Passionate prayers are the worst of passionate expressions, for we should lift up pure hands without wrath. III. He promises himself effectual relief, and the redress of all his grievances, by the stroke of death (Job 6:10): "Then should I yet have comfort, which now I have not, nor ever expect till then." See, 1. The vanity of human life; so uncertain a good is it that it often proves men's greatest burden and nothing is so desirable as to get clear of it. Let grace make us willing to part with it whenever God calls; for it may so happen that even sense may make us desirous to part with it before he calls. 2. The hope which the righteous have in their death. If Job had not had a good conscience, he could not have spoken with this assurance of comfort on the other side death, which turns the tables between the rich man and Lazarus. Now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. IV. He challenges death to do its worst. If he could not die without the dreadful prefaces of bitter pains and agonies, and strong convulsions, if he must be racked before he be executed, yet, in prospect of dying at last, he would make nothing of dying pangs: "I would harden myself in sorrow, would open my breast to receive death's darts, and not shrink from them. Let him not spare; I desire no mitigation of that pain which will put a happy period to all my pains. Rather than not die, let me die so as to feel myself die." These are passionate words, which might better have been spared. We should soften ourselves in sorrow, that we may receive the good impressions of it, and by the sadness of the countenance our hearts, being made tender, may be made better; but, if we harden ourselves, we provoke God to proceed in his controversy; for when he judgeth he will overcome. It is great presumption to dare the Almighty, and to say, Let him not spare; for are we stronger than he? Co1 10:22. We are much indebted to sparing mercy; it is bad indeed with us when we are weary of that. Let us rather say with David, O spare me a little. V. He grounds his comfort upon the testimony of his conscience for him that he had been faithful and firm to his profession of religion, and in some degree useful and serviceable to the glory of God in his generation: I have not concealed the words of the Holy One. Observe, 1. Job had the words of the Holy One committed to him. The people of God were at that time blessed with divine revelation. 2. It was his comfort that he had not concealed them, had not received the grace of God therein in vain. (1.) He had not kept them from himself, but had given them full scope to operate upon him, and in every thing to guide and govern him. He had not stifled his convictions, imprisoned the truth in unrighteousness, nor done any thing to hinder the digestion of this spiritual food and the operation of this spiritual physic. Let us never conceal God's word from ourselves, but always receive it in the light of it. (2.) He had not kept them to himself, but had been ready, on all occasions, to communicate his knowledge for the good of others, was never ashamed nor afraid to own the word of God to be his rule, nor remiss in his endeavours to bring others into an acquaintance with it. Note Those, and those only, may promise themselves comfort in death who are good, and do good, while they live. VI. He justifies himself, in this extreme desire of death, from the deplorable condition he was now in, Job 6:11, Job 6:12. Eliphaz, in the close of his discourse, had put him in hopes that he should yet see a good issue of his troubles; but poor Job puts these cordials away from him, refuses to be comforted, abandons himself to despair, and very ingeniously, yet perversely, argues against the encouragements that were given him. Disconsolate spirits will reason strangely against themselves. In answer to the pleasing prospects Eliphaz had flattered him with, he here intimates, 1. That he had no reason to expect any such thing: "What is my strength, that I should hope? You see how I am weakened and brought low, how unable I am to grapple with my distempers, and therefore what reason have I to hope that I should out-live them, and see better days? Is my strength the strength of stones? Are my muscles brass and my sinews steel? No, they are not, and therefore I cannot hold out always in this pain and misery, but must needs sink under the load. Had I strength to grapple with my distemper, I might hope to look through it; but, alas! I have not. The weakening of my strength in the way will certainly be the shortening of my days," Psa 102:23. Note, All things considered, we have no reason to reckon upon the long continuance of life in this world. What is our strength? It is depending strength. We have no more strength than God gives us; for in him we live and move. It is decaying strength; we are daily spending the stock, and by degrees it will be exhausted. It is disproportionable to the encounters we may meet with; what is our strength to be depended upon, when two or three days' sickness will make us weak as water? Instead of expecting a long life, we have reason to wonder that we have lived hitherto and to feel that we are hastening off apace. 2. That he had no reason to desire any such thing: "What is my end, that I should desire to prolong my life? What comfort can I promise myself in life, comparable to the comfort I promise myself in death?" Note, Those who, through grace, are ready for another world, cannot see much to invite their stay in this world, or to make them fond of it. That, if it be God's will, we may do him more service and may get to be fitter and riper for heaven, is an end for which we may wish the prolonging of life, in subservience to our chief end; but, otherwise, what can we propose to ourselves in desiring to tarry here? The longer life is the more grievous will its burdens be (Ecc 12:1), and the longer life is the less pleasant will be its delights, Sa2 19:34, Sa2 19:35. We have already seen the best of this world, but we are not sure that we have seen the worst of it. VII. He obviates the suspicion of his being delirious (Job 6:13): Is not my help in me? that is, "Have I not the use of my reason, with which, I thank God, I can help myself, though you do not help me? Do you think wisdom is driven quite from me, and that I am gone distracted? No, I am not mad, most noble Eliphaz, but speak the words of truth and soberness." Note, Those who have grace in them, who have the evidence of it and have it in exercise, have wisdom in them, which will be their help in the worst of times. Sat lucis intus - They have light within.”

“Even that it would please God to destroy me,.... Not with an everlasting destruction of body and soul; for destruction from the Almighty was a terror to him, Job 31:23; but with the destruction of the body only; not with an annihilation of it, but with the dissolution of it, or of that union there was between his soul and body: the word (n) used signifies to bruise and beat to pieces; his meaning is, that his body, his house of clay in which he dwelt, might be crushed to pieces, and beat to powder, and crumbled into dust; and perhaps he may have regard to his original, the dust of the earth, and his return to it, according to the divine threatening, Gen 3:19; a phrase expressive of death; and so Mr. Broughton renders it, "to bring me to the dust", to "the dust of death", Psa 22:15, that he would let loose his hand, and cut me off! he had let loose his hand in some degree already; he had given his substance and his body into the hand of Satan; his own hand had touched him, but he had only gone skin deep, as it were; he had smote him in his estate, in his family, and in the outward parts of his body; but now he desires that he would stretch out his hand further, and lift it up, and give a heavier stroke, and pierce him more deeply; strike through his heart and liver, and "make an end" of him, as Mr. Broughton translates the word, and dispatch him at once; cut him off like the flower of the field by the scythe, or like a tree cut down to its root by the axe, or cut off the thread of his life, Isa 38:12. (n) "me conterat", V. L. Pagninus, Montanus, Mercerus, Schmidt; so Junius & Tremellius, Piscator, Michaelis, Schultens.”

“8 Would that my request were fulfilled, And that Eloah would grant my expectation, 9 That Eloah were willing and would crush me, Let loose His hand and cut me off: 10 Then I should still have comfort - (I should exult in unsparing pain) - That I have not disowned the words of the Holy One. His wish refers to the ending of his suffering by death. Hupfeld prefers to read ותאותי instead of ותקותי (Job 6:8); but death, which he desires, he even indeed expects. This is just the paradox, that not life, but death, is his expectation. "Cut me off," i.e., my soul or my life, my thread of life (Job 27:8; Isa 38:12). The optative יתּן מי (Ges. 136, 1) is followed by optative futt., partly of the so-called jussive form, as יאל, velit (Hiph. from ואל, velle), and יתּר, solvat (Hiph. from נתר). In the phrase יד התּיר, the stretching out of the hand is regarded as the loosening of what was hitherto bound. The conclusion begins with וּתהי, just like Job 13:5. But it is to be asked whether by consolation speedy death is to be understood, and the clause with כּי gives the ground of his claim for the granting of the wish, - or whether he means that just this: not having disowned the words of the Holy One (comp. Job 23:11., and אמרי־אל in the mouth of Balaam, the non-Israelitish prophet, Num 24:4, Num 24:16), would be his consolation in the midst of death. With Hupfeld we decide in favour of the latter, with Psa 119:50 in view: this consciousness of innocence is indeed throughout the whole book Job's shield and defence. If, however, נחמתי (with Kametz impurum) points towards כּי, quod, etc., the clause ואסלּדה is parenthetical. The cohortative is found thus parenthetical with a conjunctive sense also elsewhere (Psa 40:6; Psa 51:18). Accordingly: my comfort - I would exult, etc. - would be that I, etc. The meaning of סלד, tripudiare, is confirmed by the lxx ἡλλόμην, in connection with the Arabic ṣalada (of a galloping horse which stamps hard with its fore-feet), according to which the Targ. also translates ואבוּע (I will rejoice). (Note: The primary meaning of סלד, according to the Arabic, is to be hard, then, to tread hard, firm, as in pulsanda tellus; whereas the poetry of the synagogue (Pijut) uses סלּד in the signification to supplicate, and סלד, litany (not: hymn, as Zunz gives it); and the Mishna-talmudic סלד signifies to singe, burn one's self, and to draw back affrighted.) For יחמל לא, comp. Isa 30:14. (break in pieces unsparingly). יחמל לא certainly appears as though it must be referred to God (Ew., Hahn, Schlottm., and others), since חילה sounds feminine; but one can either pronounce חילה = חיל as Milel (Hitz.), or take יחמל לא adverbially, and not as an elliptical dependent clause (as Ges. 147, rem. 1), but as virtually an adjective: in pain unsparing.”