recipient. Thus the best minds at this time willingly admit that the writer of Job was inspired—that he wrote truths beyond the comprehension of more than a thousand years beyond his time. One instance of this may be thus stated:
To Galileo and Copernicus we have attributed the discovery of the fact that the world is round; and yet the writer of the Book of Job, who wrote a thousand years before them, tells us that the earth is round, that its north is frigid, that the waters are divided by the dry land, where the day becomes night, and the night becomes day—clearly indicating that the continents are twelve hours apart, and that the earth must revolve to enable the relative position of its parts to the sun to give the phenomena now so well understood.
Plato was an inspired man. He wrote on the soul, far in advance of his day; and it is only a progressed mind at this time that can read and comprehend his views. With Plato, all admit that his normal progression might have been equal to the observance of the results of his inspiration. But the writer of the Book of Job could never have seen an ocean. He could not have known of the existence of another continent, and the sciences collateral to his text could not have rendered him the didactic aid which would have been necessary to have made him cognizant, in his normal condition, of the truths he uttered; and, therefore, it is at least possible, if not probable, that these truths were directly the result of inspiration, as much beyond his own comprehension as beyond the comprehension of others. Indeed, even at the present day, thousands of students of theology have read Job without perceiv-
