How very vivid! The personified Dawn seizes the coverlet under which the earth has slept at its four ends and shakes the evil-doers out of it like flies; upon which form and colour return to the earth, as clay (a Babylonian image) receives a definite form from the seal, and as the sad-coloured night-wrapper is exchanged for the bright, embroidered holiday-robe. Could we only transfer the poet to an earlier stage of mythic consciousness, we should find him expressing the same ideas—that morning-light creates all fair things anew, and discomfits the evil-doer—very much in the style of the Vedic hymns to Ushas (the Dawn), from which I quote the following in Grassmann’s translation (Rig Veda, I. 123, 4, 5),—

(There is also an Egyptian parallel in a hymn to the Sun-god, Records of the Past, viii. 131, ‘He fells the wicked in his season.’) How far the poet of Job believed in the myths which he has preserved, e.g. in the existence of potentates or potencies corresponding to the ‘dragon’ of which he speaks, we cannot certainly tell. Mr. Budge has suggested that Tiamat, the sky-dragon of the Babylonians, conveyed a distinct symbolic meaning. However this may have been, the ‘leviathan’ of Job was probably to the poet a ‘survival’ from a superstition of his childhood, and little if anything more than the emblem of all evil and disorder.

And now for the bearing of the above on criticism. It is a remarkable fact that there are mythological allusions, very similar to some of those in Job, in the later portions of the Book of Isaiah (Isa. xxiv. 21, xxvii. 1, ii. 9). This evidently suggests a date for the Book of Job not earlier than the Exile. It is not necessary to assume that the authors of these books borrowed either from Egypt or from Babylonia. They drew from the unexhausted store of Jewish popular beliefs. They wrote for a larger public than the older poets and prophets could command, and adapted themselves more completely to the average culture of their people.

The facts on which our argument is based are mainly the passages in Job which refer to ‘sons of Elohim’ (or better, as Davidson, ‘of the Elohim’), to ‘the Satan,’ and to the mal’akim. The first of these three phrases means probably inferior members of the class of beings called Elohim (i.e. ‘superhuman powers’); the second, ‘the adversary (or opposer);’ the third, ‘envoys or messengers’ (ἄγγελοι). We may at once draw an inference from the expression ‘the Satan,’ the full importance of which will be seen later on. ‘The Satan’ being an appellative, the book in which it occurs was probably written before Chronicles, where we find ‘Satan’ without the article, almost^[99] as if a proper name; and being applied to a minister and not an opponent of Jehovah, the Book of Job is probably earlier than the prophecies of Zechariah and the Books of Chronicles; see Zech. iii. 1, 2 (where observe that Jehovah’s only true representative gives a severe reproof to ‘the Satan’), 1 Chron. xxi. 1 (where ‘Satan,’ uncommissioned, ‘entices’ David to an act displeasing to Jehovah^[100]). The difference between the notices of the Satan (or Satan) may not seem great to an unpractised student, but no one who has followed the development of any single doctrine will undervalue such traces of a growing refinement in the conceptions of good and evil. Whether or no the ideas of the Chronicler and his age had been modified by hearing of the Persian Ahriman, may be questioned; but a similar supposition cannot be allowed in the case of the author of Job. The Satan of the Prologue is, in theory at least, simply Jehovah’s agent, though he certainly betrays a malicious pleasure in his invidious function of trying or sifting the righteous. It is not impossible that the author of the Prologue was the first to use the term Satan in this sense. At any rate, it is a pure Hebrew term, unlike the Ashmedai or Asmodæus of the Book of Tobit. [Ashmedai, in later Judaism, is the head of the Shedim—demons who were never angels of God, just as Sammael is the ‘head of all Satans,’ i.e. the prince of the fallen angels. Weber, System der altsynagog. Palästin. Theologie, pp. 243-5.]

Next, turning to the mal’akim, observe that the word occurs very rarely in Job, viz. once in the original Colloquies (iv. 18), and once (virtually) in the first speech of Elihu (xxxiii. 23). We find, however, a kindred phrase ‘the q’doshim,’ or ‘holy ones,’ i.e. superhuman, heavenly beings, separate from the world of the senses^[101] (v. 1, xv. 15), and comparing v. 1 with iv. 18 we cannot doubt that the same class of beings is intended. We nowhere meet with the Mal’ak Yahvè, so familiar to us in certain Old Testament narratives; Elihu’s mal’ak mēlīç (xxxiii. 23) is not synonymous with the older expression (see account of Elihu). In fact, the thousands of mal’akim known at the period of the writers of Job have made the one great mal’ak unnecessary, just as, but for the influence of Persian ideas, the multitudinous ‘hurtful angels’ (Ps. lxxviii. 49) might sooner or later have entirely supplanted the single Satan. And yet even an ordinary mal’ak, when he appears, is more awful than the great mal’ak Yahvè; the angel who appears to Eliphaz (Job iv. 15, 16) is as unrecognisable as the ‘face’ of Jehovah himself. This is an indication, though but a slight one, of a somewhat advanced age, when the gulf between God and man was more acutely felt, and religious thought was more specially directed to filling it up.

The title ‘holy ones’ (v. 1) enables us to identify the ‘angels’ with the ‘sons of the Elohim.’ Separateness from human weakness, though not mediatorial ability^[102] is equally, predicated of both. But neither the poet of Job, nor any of the psalmists, identifies the phrases in express terms;^[103] a virtual identification (see above, and Ps. lxxxix. 7, 8) is all that they venture upon. There was a good reason for this—viz. their recollection of the physical and mythological origin of the phrase, ‘the sons of the Elohim.’ ‘Angels’ and ‘sons of the Elohim’ are indeed alike ‘holy’ and ‘servants’ of the supreme God, but not always so, according to Hebrew tradition, were the ‘sons of the Elohim.’ In support of this, we may refer, not only to Gen. vi. 4 (which the author of Job need not have known), but to the allusions in his poem (see above) to a war among the inhabitants of heaven. This war, I think, stands in connection not merely with the physical phenomena of light and darkness, but also with speculations of pious Jehovists, or worshippers of Jehovah, as to the basis and value of ‘heathen’ religions. According to Deut. xxxii. 8,^[104] each of the nations of the world was allotted by the Most High (Elyōn)^[105] to some one of the ‘sons of El’ (the simplest name for God); of course we are to suppose that these ‘sons of El’ and their worshippers were meant to recognise the supremacy of the ‘God of Gods’—Jehovah. But (so we may suppose the train of thought of the Jehovists to have run) the nations and their deities formed the vain dream of independence. The result of the struggle between Jehovah and the inferior Elohim is referred to in Job: the Elohim renounced their dream of independent sovereignty and were admitted into Jehovah’s service. Henceforth they were no longer shīdīm, i.e. ‘lords’ (?), Deut. xxxii. 17, but mal’akīm ‘messengers.’ But the ‘heathen’ nations go on worshipping the Elohim, ignorant that their divinities have been dispossessed of their misused lordship.^[106] Instead of Him who alone henceforth is ‘enthroned in the heavens’ (Ps. ii. 4), they honour ‘that which is not God’ (Deut. xxxii. 21), phantom-divinities whom they localise, like Jehovah, in the sky. Thus, except as to the region of the divine habitation, they differ radically from Jehovists like the author of Job. In that one point he agrees with them: the stars and the ‘sons of Elohim’ he still pictures to himself as closely conjoined (xxxviii. 6). Thus, the old and the new are fermenting in his brain, and on the ground of their angelology we can safely date the authors of Job somewhere in the great literary period which opens with the ‘Captivity.’

The new phase into which the controversy as to the early Christian work on the Teaching of the Apostles has passed excuses me from justifying the importance (in spite of its difficulty) of the study of parallel passages. A great point has been gained in one’s critical and exegetical training when one has learned so to compare parallel passages as to distinguish true from apparent resemblances, and to estimate the degree of probability of imitation. In Essay viii. of vol. ii. of The Prophecies of Isaiah, I endeavoured to help the student to do this for himself within the field of the Book of Isaiah. I shall not attempt this with the same thoroughness for the Book of Job. It is a sign of the consummate skill of the writer that he is an artist even in his imitations. As Luther says, ‘Die Rede dieses Buches ist so reisig und prächtig als freilich keines Buches in der ganzen Schrift.’ The author retains the parallelistic distich, but is no longer content with a bare synonymous or antithetic bifurcation of his material, and dwells on the decoration of an idea with a freedom which sometimes obscures his meaning; hence too the germinal phrase or word suggested by an earlier book may easily escape notice. I shall confine my attention to the most defensible points of contact, referring for the rest, without pledging myself to agreement, to Dr. J. Barth’s Beiträge zur Erklärung des Buches Job (Leipzig, s.a.), pp. 1-17.

The influence of Job on the works which all admit to be of post-Exile origin need not detain us here. There is but one undoubted reference to Job in Ecclesiastes (v. 14; comp. Job i. 21)—we should perhaps have expected more. But Sirach with a true instinct detected an affinity between his own ideas and Job xxviii. (comp. this chapter with Ecclus. i. 3, 5, &c.), though he neglects the rest, and does not include our poet among the ‘famous men’ and the ‘fathers that begot us.’ Passing upwards, we shall, if historical criticism be our guide, make our first pause at the undeniably later psalms and at the later portions of Isaiah. In the former compare (as specimens).

There is, I think, no question that these psalm-passages were inspired by the parallels in Job. In Isa. xl.-lxvi. there are, as I have pointed out (Isaiah, ed. 3, ii. 250), at least twenty-one parallels to passages in our poem. I do not, however, think that we can venture to describe either set of passages en bloc as imitations. But there are at least two clear cases of imitation, and here the original is not the prophet but the poet (comp. Isa. li. 9b, 10a, with Job xxvi. 12, 13, and Isa. liii. 9 with Job xvi. 17). With regard to the book (II. Isaiah) as a whole, or at least the greater part of it, we may say that there is a parallelism of idea running through it and the Book of job, which may to a large extent account for parallelisms of expression. This does not, however, apply everywhere, least of all to the great prophetic dirge on the ‘despised and rejected’ one, which presents stylistic phenomena so unlike that of its context that we seem bound to assign the substratum of Isa. lii. 13-liii. to a time of persecution previous to the Exile.^[107] How the poet of Job became acquainted with this striking passage, we know not. Did it form part of some prophetic anthology similar to the poetic Golden Treasury called ‘The Book of the Righteous’? or shall we follow those bolder critics who suppose the author of Job to have lived in the post-Exile times, when he may easily have had access to both parts of our Book of Isaiah? These are questions not to be evaded on account of their difficulty, but not to be decided here.

Our next halt may be made at the Book of Proverbs, the three concluding sections of which composite work belong at the earliest to the last century of the Jewish state. Among the clearest literary allusions in Job are those to this book, and some of these are especially important with regard to the disputed question of the relation between our poem and the introduction to the Book of Proverbs (Prov. i.-ix.) That the latter work is the earlier seems to me clear from a comparison of the general positions indicated by the following passages from Prov. i.-ix. and the Book of Job. Compare—

It will be seen by any one who will compare these passages that the case here is different from that of the parallelisms in Job and the second part of Isaiah. The latter do not perhaps allow us to determine with confidence which of the two books is the earlier. But, as Prof. Davidson has amply shown,^[108] the stage of intellectual development represented by Job is more advanced than that in the ‘Praise of Wisdom.’ The general subjects may be the same, but in Job they have entered upon a new phase.—We now pass to the earliest of the proverbial anthologies (Prov. x.-xxii. 16). Here of course the relation is reversed: the proverbs are the originals to which the author of Job alludes. Compare—

We may infer from this group of parallels that the author of Job not only studied venerated ‘Solomonic’ models, but even ventured directly to controvert their leading doctrine; see especially Job xxi. 17. In our next comparison the relation seems reversed. The author of Prov. xxx. 1-4 not improbably alludes sarcastically to the theophany in Job xxxviii.-xlii. 6. Note in passing the occurrence of Eloah for ‘God’ in Prov. xxx. 5 (comp. the speeches in Job).

There are several parallels in the Book of Lamentations; I restrict myself to those in the third elegy, which differs in several points from the others, especially in its poetic feebleness. It is easier to believe that the author of the elegy was dependent on Job than to take the reverse view. A poem, the hero of which was obviously the typical righteous man, naturally suggested features in the description of the representative Israelite. Compare, then, Lam. iii. 7, 9 with Job xix. 8; iii. 8 with Job xxx. 20; iii. 10 with Job. x. 16; iii. 12, 13 with Job vii. 20, xvi. 12, 13; iii. 14, 63 with Job xxx. 9.

Parallels to Job also occur in Jeremiah. It is often, indeed, not easy to say on which side is the originality. But in one of the most important instances we may pronounce decidedly in favour of Job (comp. Jer. xx. 14-18 with Job iii. 3-10). The despairing utterance referred to is an exaggeration in the mouth of Job, but suitable enough in Jeremiah’s. In Job, l.c., we seem to recognise the slightly artificial turn which the author loves to give to the ideas and phrases of his predecessors; while the cutting irony of the words ‘making him very glad’ (Jer. xx. 15) as clearly betokens the hand of the original writer. Compare also Job vi. 15 with Jer. xv. 18; ix. 19 with Jer. xlix. 19; x. 18-22 with Jer. xx. 14-18; xii. 4, xix. 7 with Jer. xx. 7, 8; xii. 6, xxi. 7 with Jer. xii. 1; xix. 24 with Jer. xvii. 1; xxxviii. 33 with Jer. xxxi. 35, 36.

There are two plausible points of contact in Job with Deuteronomy (comp. Job xxiv. 2, Deut. xix. 14 [removing landmarks]; Job xxxi. 9, 11, Deut. xxii. 22), but only one worth mentioning with Genesis (xxii. 16; comp Gen. vi. &c.), and here observe that the word for A.V.’s ‘flood’ (Job, l.c.) is not mabbūl but nāhār.^[109] Hitzig and Delitzsch find another in xxxi. 33. But ādām in Job always means ‘men:’ in xv. 7, 8, where the first man is referred to, he is not named. The reference in xxxi. 33 is not to hiding sins from God, but from man. I think, however, that the Prologue implies a general acquaintance with some current descriptions of the patriarchal period—the ‘golden age’ to men of a more advanced civilisation.

It is remarkable, what interesting parallels are afforded by the prophets of the Assyrian period. Isaiah, as might be expected, contains the largest number (see The Prophecies of Isaiah, ed. 3, ii. 243); but Hosea follows close after. Compare especially—

Comp. also Am. v. 8, ix. 6 with Job xii. 15; Am. ii. 9 with Job xviii. 16.

I say nothing here of the parallels in the Song of Hezekiah (Isa. xxxviii. 10-20). I have shown reason in Isaiah, i. 228, for believing that the Song is a highly imitative work, and largely based on Job, such a work in fact as can only be accounted for in the Exile or post-Exile period.

There still remains the great body of psalms of disputed date. The parallelisms in Ps. xxxvii.^[110] are too general to be mentioned here, striking as they are; but we may venture to compare Ps. viii. 5 with Job vii. 17; Ps. xxxix. 12b with Job iv. 19b; ib. 14a with Job vii. 19a, x. 20; ib. 14b with Job x. 21, 22; Ps. lxxii. 12 with Job xxix. 12; ib. 16 with Job v. 25b; Ps. lxxxviii. 16b with Job xx. 25 (the rare word ’ēmīm); ib. 17 with Job vi. 4 (bi’ūthīm); ib. 19 (lxix. 9) with Job xix. 14; and note throughout this psalm the same correspondence of extreme inward and outward suffering which we find in Job. Then, turning to the psalms of different tenor, comp. lxxii. 12 with Job xxix. 12; ib. 16 with Job v. 25b. I have selected these instances precisely because they allow us to draw an inference as to priority. Ps. lxxxviii. is clearly imitative, and no doubt there is more imitation of the great poem in other psalms. Psalms viii., xxxix., and (probably) lxxii. were however known to and imitated by the authors of Job. The parallel in Ps. viii. is specially important. That this psalm is not earlier than the Exile is disputed, but extremely probable; the bitter ‘parody’ in Job vii. 17 must in this case be of the same or a later period.

And now to sum up the results of our comparisons. The Colloquies in Job are of later origin than Deuteronomy, Jeremiah, Lamentations, and most of Proverbs, but possibly nearly contemporaneous with much in the second part of Isaiah, except that Isa. liii. not improbably lay before the author of Job; also that Ps. viii., a work of the Exile period, was well known to him. We are thus insensibly led on to date the Book of Job (the speeches, at any rate) during the Exile. This will account for the large amount of imitation to which the book gave rise. Men felt respecting the author that he was the first and greatest exponent of the ideas and feelings, not of a long-past age, but of their own; that he ‘sat chief, and dwelt as a king in the army, as one that comforteth the mourners’ (Job xxix. 25).

A detailed exegetical study would alone enable the reader to do justice to the controversies here referred to. But I may at least ask that, even upon the ground of the slender analysis which I have given, he should recognise the difficulties at the root of these controversies. In comparison with his possession of a ‘seeing eye,’ it is of little moment to me whether he adopts my explanations or not. Poets, like painters, have different periods. It is therefore conceivable that the author of Job changed in course of time, and criticised his own work, these afterthoughts of his being embodied in the ‘disputed passages.’ It is indeed also conceivable that the phenomena which puzzle us are to be explained by the plurality of authorship. In the remarks which follow I wish to supplement the sketch of the possible or probable growth of the Book offered in section 3 of Chap. VII., chiefly with regard to the speeches of Elihu.

Keil has spoken of ‘the persistently repeated assaults upon the genuineness’ of these discourses. I must however protest against the use of the word ‘genuineness’ in this connection. Even if not by the author of the poem of Job, the speeches of Elihu are as ‘genuine’ a monument of Israel’s religious ‘wisdom’ as the work of the earlier writer. No critic worthy of the name thinks of ‘assaulting’ them, though divines no less orthodox than Gregory the Great and the Venerable Bede have uncritically enough set the example. The speeches of Elihu only seem poor by comparison with the original work; they are not without true and beautiful passages, which, with all their faults of expression, would in any other book have commanded universal admiration. The grounds on which chaps. xxxii.-xxxvii. are denied to the original writer may be summed up thus.

(1) Elihu puts forward a theory of the sufferings of the righteous which does not essentially differ from that of the three friends (see especially xxxiii. 25-28; xxxiv. 9, 11, 12, 36, 37; xxxv. 9-16; xxxvi. 5-7, 21-25; xxxvii. 23, 24). No doubt he improves the theory, by laying more stress upon the chastening character of the righteous man’s afflictions (xxxiii. 14-30; xxxvi. 8-12, 15, 16, and comp. Eliphaz in v. 18, 19), and to many disciples of the New Covenant his form of the theory may recommend itself as true. But, even apart from the appendix or epilogue (see xlii. 7-9), it is clear from the whole plan of the poem, particularly if the discourses of Jehovah be taken in, that this was not, in the writer’s mind, an adequate solution of the problem, especially in the case of the God-fearing and innocent Job.

(2) These speeches interrupt the connection between the ‘words of Job’ and those of Jehovah, and seem to render the latter superfluous. Whether the ‘words of Job’ (to borrow the phrase of some editor of the book) should end at xxxvii. 37 or at ver. 40, it is difficult not to believe that xxxviii. 1, 2, ‘And Jehovah answered Job out of the storm, and said, Who then is darkening counsel by words without knowledge?’ was meant to follow immediately upon them. The force of this seems to some to be weakened by taking Elihu’s description of the storm (xxxvii. 2-5) as preparatory to the appearance of Jehovah in chap. xxxviii. But, evidently, to make this an argument, the storm ought to be at the end of the speech.

(3) There is no mention of Elihu in the Prologue, nor is any divine judgment passed upon him in the Epilogue. It is not enough to reply with Stickel that Jehovah himself is not mentioned in the Prologue as the umpire in the great controversy; why should he be?—and that the absence of any condemnation of Elihu on the part of Jehovah, and the harmony (?) between Elihu’s and Jehovah’s discourses, sufficiently indicate the good opinion of the Divine Judge.

(4) Elihu’s style is prolix and laboured; his phrases often very obscure, even where the words separately are familiar. As Davidson remarks, there are not only unknown words (these we meet with elsewhere in the book), but an unknown use of known words. There is also a deeper colouring of Aramaic (see Appendix), which F. C. Cook, following Stickel, explains by the supposed Aramæan origin of the speaker; in this case, it would be a refinement of art which adds a fresh laurel to the crown of the poet. But the statement in xxxii. 2 is that Elihu was ‘the son of Barakel the Buzite, of the kindred of Ram.’ That Ram = Aram is unproved; while Buz, as Jer. xxv. 23 shows, is the name of a genuine Arabian people. It would be better to explain the increased Aramaism by the lapse of a long interval in the writer’s life. This explanation is, to me, equivalent to assigning these speeches to a different writer (as I have remarked elsewhere, comparing Goethe’s Faust). Those who will may adopt it; but my own respect for the poet of Job will not allow me to believe that his taste had so much declined as to insert this inferior poem into his masterpiece.

(5) Elihu’s allusions to passages in the rest of the book (comp. xxxiii. 15 with iv. 13; xxxiv. 3 with xii. 11; xxxv. 5 with xxii. 12; xxxv. 8 with xxii. 2; xxxvii. 8 with xxxviii. 40) and his minute reproductions of sayings of Job (see xxxiii. 8, 9; xxxiv. 5, 6; xxxv. 2, 3) point to an author who had the book before him, so far as then known, as a whole.

(6) Elihu’s somewhat scrupulous piety, or shall I call it his advance in reverential, contrite devoutness? compared with the three friends, suggests that the poet of Elihu was the child of a later and more sombre generation which found the original book in some respects disappointing.

Putting all this together, if the main part of the Book of Job belongs to the Exile, the Elihu-portion may well belong to the post-Exile period.

To this view, it is no objection that, on the one hand, Elihu not merely (to express oneself shortly) criticises the position of the three friends, but, by ignoring it, criticises the view of Job’s afflictions taken in the Prologue, and, on the other, has much in common with the rest of the book in orthographic, grammatical, and lexical respects. The idea that God permits affliction simply to try the disinterestedness of a good man, is one which might easily shock the feelings of one only too conscious that he was not good; and the linguistic points which ‘Elihu’ and the rest of the book have in common are such as we should expect to find in works proceeding from the same class of writers. If Jeremiah wrote all the pieces which contain Jeremian phraseology, or Isaiah all the prophecies which remind one at all of the great prophet, or the same ‘wise man’ wrote Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, then we may perhaps believe that the author of Job also wrote the speeches of Elihu and perhaps one or two of the didactic psalms.

Professor Briggs, the author of that excellent work Biblical Study, takes up a different position, which, though not new, acquires some authority from his respected name. He does not see any literary or theological merit in Elihu’s speeches, and yet regards them as ‘an important part of the original work.’ The author designed to portray Elihu as a young and inexperienced man, and uses these ambitious failures ‘as a literary foil ... to prepare the way for the divine interposition, to quiet and soothe by their tediousness the agitated spirits of Job and his friends.’^[111] To me, this view of the intention of the speeches lowers the character of the original writer. So reverent and devout a speaker as Elihu is ill rewarded by being treated as a literary and theological foil. Artistically, the value of this part may be comparatively slight, but theologically it enriches the Old Testament with a monument of a truly Christian consciousness of sin. Had the original writer equalled him in this, we should perhaps have missed a splendid anticipation of the life of Christ, who ‘did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth.’ But the Elihu-section expresses in Old Testament language the great truth announced by St. Paul in 1 Cor. xi. 32.^[112]

On the other ‘disputed passages’ I have little to add.

(a) To me, the picture of the behémoth and the leviathan (xl. 15-xli.) seems but little less probably a later insertion than the speeches of Elihu; this view of the case has the authority of Ewald. That cautious critic, Dr. Davidson, remarks that this passage has a very different kind of movement from that of the tight and graceful sketches in chaps. xxxviii., xxxix., and that the poetic inventory which it contains reminds us more of an Arab poet’s description of his camel or his horse (Job, p. liv.)

(b) I cannot speak so positively as to the speeches of Jehovah. From a purely æsthetic point of view, I am often as unwilling as any one to believe that they were ‘inserted.’ At other times I ask myself, Can the inconsistencies of this portion as compared with the Colloquies be explained as mere oversights? The appearance of the Almighty upon the scene is in itself strange. Job had no doubt expressed a wish for this, but did not suppose that it could be realised,^[113] at any rate in his own lifetime. It is still stranger that the Almighty should appear, not in the gentle manner which Job had desired (ix. 34, 35), not with the object of a judicial investigation of the case, but in the whirlwind, and with a foregone conclusion on Job’s deserts. For in fact that splendid series of ironical questions which occupies chaps. xxxviii., xxxix., and which Job had by anticipation deprecated (ix. 3), is nothing less than a long drawn-out condemnation of Job. The indictment and the defendant’s reply, to which Job has referred with such proud self-confidence (xxxi. 35, 36), are wholly ignored; and the result is that which Job has unconsciously predicted in the words,—

(c) Great difficulties have been found in xxvii. 8 (or 11)-23, xxviii. First of all, Is there an inner connection between these passages? Dr. Green seeks to establish one. ‘While continuing,’ he says, ‘to insist upon his own integrity, notwithstanding the afflictions sent upon him, he freely admits, and this in language as emphatic as their own, the reality of God’s providential government, and that punishment does overtake the ungodly. Nevertheless there is a mystery enveloping the divine administration, which is quite impenetrable to the human understanding’ (The Book of Job, p. 233). This is very unnatural.^[114] How can Job suddenly adopt the language of the friends without conceding that he has himself hitherto been completely in error? And what right have we to force such a subtle connection between chaps. xxvii. and xxviii? Looking at the latter by itself, one cannot help suspecting that it once formed part of a didactic treatise similar to the Introduction to the Book of Proverbs (see end of Chap. III). For a careful exegetical study of chaps. xxvii., xxviii., see Giesebrecht (see ‘Aids to the Student,’ after Chap. XV.), with whom Dr. Green seems to accord, but who fails to convince me. See also Budde in his Beiträge, and Grätz, ‘Die Integrität der Kap. 27 und 28 im Hiob,’ Monatsschrift, 1872, p. 241 &c.

That the Book of Job is not as deeply penetrated with the spirit of revelation, nor even as distinctly Israelitish a production, as most of the Old Testament writings, requires no argument. May we venture to go further, and infer from various phenomena that, not merely the artistic form of the māshāl, but the thoughts and even the language of Job came in a greater or less degree from a foreign source? The question has been answered in the affirmative (as in the case of the words of Agur in Prov. xxx., and those of Lemuel in chap. xxxi.) by some early as well as some more modern writers. This view has been supposed to be implied in the Greek postscript to the Septuagint version^[115] (strongly redolent of Jewish Midrash), which contains the statement, οὗτος ἑρμηνεύεται ἐκ τῆς Συριακῆς βίβλου, but though Origen appears so to have understood,^[116] it is more probable that οὗτος merely refers to the postscript (Zunz; Frankl). Ibn Ezra, however, on independent grounds does express the opinion (commenting on Job ii. 11) that the Book of Job is a translation; he ascribes to the translator the words in xxxviii. 1 containing the sacred name Jehovah. The increased study of Arabic in the 17th century led several theologians of eminence to the same conclusion. Spanheim, for instance, thought that Job and his friends wrote down the history and the colloquies in Arabic, after the happy turn in the fortunes of the sufferer, and that some inspired Israelitish writer, in the age of Solomon, gave this work a Hebrew dress. Albert Schultens, in the preface to his Liber Jobi (1737), is at the pains to discuss this theory, which he rejects on two main grounds, (1) the disparagement to our magnificent Book of Job involved in calling it a translation, and (2) that in those primitive and, according to him, pre-Mosaic times, the Hebrew and Arabic languages cannot have been so different (!) as Spanheim from his point of view imagines. Elsewhere he expresses his own opinion shortly thus,^[117] ‘Linguam quâ liber Jobi conscriptus est, genuinum illius temporis Arabismum esse.’ He actually imagines that Job and his friends extemporised the Colloquies we have before us, referring to the amazing faculty of improvisation still possessed by the Arabs—a view scarcely worthier than that of Spanheim, for, as Martineau remarks in another connection, Who ever improvised a great poem or a great sermon? Both these great scholars have fallen into the error of confounding the poet with his hero and the use of poetic and didactic fiction with deliberate fraud. One cannot be severe upon this error, for it has survived among ourselves in Prof. S. Lee’s great work (1837), where our Book of Job is actually traced back through Jethro to Job himself. The only form however in which a critic of our day could discuss the question mentioned above would be this, Is it in some degree probable that the author of Job was a Hebrew who had passed some time with the Arabic- and Aramaic-speaking peoples bordering on the land of Israel?

On grounds independent of Eichhorn and Dean Plumptre, the former of whom combines his theory with that of a pre-Mosaic, and the latter with that of a Solomonic date of Job, I think that we may venture to reply in the affirmative. These grounds have reference (1) to the ideas of Job, (2) to its vocabulary.

(1) I am well aware that the argument from the ideas of Job cannot claim a strong degree of cogency. It is possible to account for the conceptions of the author from the natural progress of the (divinely-guided) moral and religious history of Israel, and those who believe (I do not myself) that Psalms xvii., xxxvii., xlix., lxxiii., are Palestinian works of earlier date than Job will have a ready argument in favour of a purely native origin of the latter book. Still it seems to me that we can still better account for the author’s point of view by supposing that he was in sympathy with an intellectual movement going on outside Israel. The doctrine of retribution in the present life, which he finds inadequate, is common to the friends and to the religion which has in all ages been that of the genuine Arab—the so-called dīn Ibrāhīm (or ‘religion of Abraham’). The Eloah and the Shaddai of Job are the irresponsible Allah who has all power in heaven and on earth, and before whom, when mysteries occur in human life which the retribution-doctrine cannot solve, the Arab and every true Moslem bows his head with settled, sad resignation. The morality alike of the dīn Ibrāhīm, and of the religion of Mohammed (who professed to restore it in its purity), is faulty precisely as the religion of the three friends (and originally of Job himself) is faulty. The same conflict which arose in the heart of Job arose in the midst of the Moslem world. I refer to the dispute between the claimants of orthodoxy and the sect of the Mo’tazilites (8th and 9th centuries); the latter, who were worsted in the strife, viewed God as the absolutely Good, the former as a despotic and revengeful tyrant.^[118] May not this conflict have been foreshadowed at an earlier time? Is not the difficulty which led to it a constantly recurring one, so soon as reflection acquires a certain degree of maturity? It may well have been felt among the Jews, especially in the decline of the state, but it must also have been felt among their neighbours, and freedom of speech has always, in historical times, been an Arab characteristic. Putting aside the anachronism of placing Job in the patriarchal age, does not the poet himself appear to hint that it was so felt by the names and tribal origins of the speakers in the great religious discussion?

(2) As to the Arabisms and Aramaisms of the language of Job (see Appendix). Jerome already says that his own translation follows none of the ancients, but reproduces, now the words, now the sense, and now both, ‘ex ipso hebraico arabicoque sermone et interdum syro.’ In the 17th and 18th centuries, De Dieu, Bochart, and above all Schultens made it a first principle in the study of Job to illustrate it from Aramaic and especially Arabic. Schultens even describes the language as not so much Hebrew, as Hebræo-Arabic, and says that it breathes the true and unmixed genius of Arabia. This is every way an exaggeration, and yet, after all reasonable deductions, our poem will stand out from the Old Testament volume by its foreign linguistic affinities. It is not enough to say that the Arabisms and Aramaisms have from the first formed part of the Hebrew vocabulary, and were previously employed only because the subjects of the other books did not call for their use. Unless a more thorough study of Assyrian should prove that the Arabism (for of these I am chiefly thinking) belonged to northern as well as to southern Semitic, it will surely be more natural to suppose that the author of Job replenished his vocabulary from Arabic sources. There is not a little in the phraseology of Job which is still as obscure as in the days of Ibn Ezra, but which receives, or may yet receive, illustration from the stores of written and spoken Arabic.^[119]

May we not, in short, conjecture that the poem of Job is a grand attempt to renovate and enrich the Hebrew language?^[120] If so, the experiment can hardly have been made before the great subversion of Hebrew traditions at the Babylonian captivity. Residence in a foreign land produces a marked effect on one’s language. Recollect too that our author was a literary man. Internal evidence converges to show that Job belonged to that great literary movement among the wise men, philosophers, or humanists, to which we shall have to refer Prov. i-ix., the Wisdom of Sirach, and the Book of Ecclesiastes.

Before leaving this subject, let us notice the parallels to descriptions in the speeches of Jehovah in the Arabian poets, who show the same attention to the striking phenomena of earth and sky as the author of these speeches. The Arabian tone and colouring of the descriptions of animals in Job has been already remarked upon by Alfred von Kremer in vol. ii. of his Culturgeschichte des Orients. Is it possible to conceive that those sketches of the wild goat, the wild ass, and the horse, were not written by one who was familiar with the sight? Or that the author had not observed the habits of the ostrich, when he penned his lines on the ostrich’s neglect of her eggs? Or that his interest in astronomy was not deepened by the spectacle of a night-sky in Arabia? Or that personal experience of caravan life did not inspire the touching figure in vi. 15-20? And observation of the mines in the Sinaitic peninsula^[121] the fine description of xxviii. 1-10? It is possible that some of these passages may be due to other travelled ‘wise men;’ but this only increases the probability that the Hebrew movement was strengthened by contact with similar movements abroad. The ‘wise men’ had certainly travelled far and wide among Arabic-speaking populations, though nowhere perhaps were they so much at home as in Idumæa and its neighbourhood. As M. Derenbourg remarks, ‘Les riantes oasis, au milieu des contrées désolées, environnant la mer Morte, étaient la demeure des sages et des rêveurs. Bien des siècles après l’auteur de Job, les Esséniens et les Thérapeutes se plongeaient là dans la vie contemplative, ou bien ils se livraient à une vie simple, active et dégagée de tout souci mondain. Encore un peu plus tard cette contrée devint probablement le berceau de la kabbale ou du mysticisme juif.’