wanting, and, as it ever will be when the facts of
experience come in contact with the inadequate formula,
the true is found so mingled with the false, that they
can hardly be disentangled, and are in danger of being
swept away together.

A studied respect is shown, however, to this orthodoxy;
even while it is arraigned for judgment. It may be
doubtful whether the writer purposely intended it. He
probably cared only to tell the real truth; to say for
it the best which could be said, and to produce as its
defenders the best and wisest men whom in his experience
he had known to believe and defend it. At any
rate, he represents the three friends, not as a weaker
person would have represented them, as foolish, obstinate
bigots, but as wise, humane, and almost great men,
who, at the outset, at least, are animated only by the
kindest feelings, and speak what they have to say with
the most earnest conviction that it is true. Job is
vehement, desperate, reckless. His language is the
wild, natural outpouring of suffering. The friends, true
to the eternal nature of man, are grave, solemn, and
indignant, preaching their half truth, and mistaken only
in supposing that it is the whole; speaking, as all such
persons would speak, and still do speak, in defending
what they consider sacred truth, against the assaults
of folly and scepticism. How beautiful is their first
introduction:--

"Now when Job's three friends heard of all this evil
which was come upon him, they came every one from his
own place, Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite,
and Zophar the Naamathite, for they had made an appointment
together to come to mourn with him and to comfort
him. And when they lifted up their eyes afar off and knew
him not, they lifted up their voices and wept, and they
rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their
heads towards heaven. So they sate down with him upon
the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a
word unto him, for they saw that his grief was very great."

What a picture is there! What majestic tenderness!
His wife had scoffed at his faith, bidding him leave
"God and die." His acquaintance had turned from
him. He "had called his servant, and he had given him
no answer." Even the children in their unconscious
cruelty had gathered round and mocked him, as he lay
among the ashes. But "his friends sprinkle dust towards
heaven, and sit silently by him, and weep for him seven
days and seven nigh