fate of the Stoics, or by the blind fortune of the Epicureans, but by the wise, holy, and sovereign, counsel of God.
3. His condition during that continuance: man's life is a warfare, and as the days of a hireling. We are every one of us to look upon ourselves in this world, (1.) As soldiers, exposed to hardship, and in the midst of enemies; we must serve and be under command; and, when our warfare is accomplished, we must be disbanded, dismissed with either shame or honour, according to what we have done in the body. (2.) As day-labourers, that have the work of the day to do in its day, and must make up their account at night.
II. From his own condition at this time. He had as much reason, he thought, to wish for death, as a poor servant or hireling, that is tired with his work, has to wish for the shadows of the evening, when he shall receive his penny, and go to rest, v. 2. The darkness of the night is as welcome to the labourer, as the light of the morning is to the watchman, Ps. cxxx. 6. The God of nature has provided for the repose of labourers, and no wonder that they desire it. The sleep of the labouring man is sweet, Eccl. v. 12. No pleasure more grateful, more relishing, to the luxurious, than rest to the labourers; nor can any rich man take so much satisfaction in the return of his rent-days, as the hireling in his day's wages. The comparison is plain, the application is concise, and somewhat obscure; but we must supply a word or two, and then it is easy: exactness of language is not to be expected from one in Job's condition. "As a servant earnestly desires the shadow, so, and for the same reason, I earnestly desire death, for I am made to possess," &c. Hear his complaint:
1. His days were useless, and had been so a great while; he was wholly taken off from business, and utterly unfit for it. Every day was a burthen to him, because he was in no capacity of doing good, or of spending it to any purpose. Et vitae partem non attigit ullam—He could not fill up his time with any thing that would turn to account; this he calls possessing months of vanity, v. 3. It very much increases the affliction of sickness and age, to a good man, that he is thereby forced from his usefulness. He insists not so much upon it, that they are days in which he has no pleasure, as that they are days in which he does no good; on that account, they are months of vanity: but when we are disabled to work for God, if we will but sit still quietly for him, it is all one; we shall be accepted.
2. His nights were restless, v. 3, 4. The night relieves the toil and fatigue of the day, not only to the labourers, but to the sufferers: if a sick man can but get a little sleep in the night, it helps nature, and it is hoped that he will do well, John xi. 12. However, be the trouble what it will, sleep gives some intermission to the cares, and pains, and griefs, that afflict us: it is the parenthesis of our sorrows: but poor Job could not gain this relief. (1.) His nights were wearisome, and, instead of taking any rest, he did but tire himself more with tossing to and fro until morning. Those that are in great uneasiness, through pain of body, or anguish of mind, think, by changing sides, changing places, changing postures, to get some ease; but, while the cause is the same within, it is all to no purpose; it is but a resemblance of a fretful discontented spirit, that is ever shifting, but never easy. This made him dread the night as much as the servant desires it, and, when he lay down, to say, When will the night be gone? (2.) These wearisome nights were appointed to him; God, who determines the times before appointed, had allotted him such nights as these. Whatever is, at any time, grievous to us, it is good to see it appointed for us, that we may acquiesce in the event, not only as unavoidable, because appointed, but as, therefore, designed for some holy end. When we have comfortable nights, we must see them also appointed to us, and be thankful for them; many better than we have wearisome nights.
3. His body was noisome, v. 5. His sores bred worms, the scabs were like clods of dust, and his skin was broken; so evil was the disease which cleaved fast to him. See what vile bodies we have, and what little reason we have to pamper them, or be proud of them; they have in themselves the principles of their own corruption: as fond as we are of them now, the time may come, when we may loathe them, and long to get rid of them.
4. His life was hastening apace towards a period, v. 6. He thought he had no reason to expect a long life, for he found himself declining fast; (v. 6.) My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, that is, "My time is now but short, and there are but a few sands more in my glass, which will speedily run out." Natural motions are more swift near the centre; Job thought his days ran swiftly, because he thought he should soon be at his journey's end; he looked upon them as good as spent already, and he was therefore without hope of being restored to his former prosperity. It is applicable to man's life in general; our days are like a weaver's shuttle, thrown from one side of the web to the other, in the twinkling of an eye, and then back again, to and fro, until, at length, it is quite exhausted of the thread it carried; and then we cut off, like a weaver, our life, Isa. xxxviii. 12. Time hastens on apace, the motion of it cannot be stopped, and, when it is past, it cannot be recalled. While we are living, we are sowing, (Gal. vi. 8.) so we are weaving; every day, like the shuttle, leaves a thread behind it; many weave the spider's web, which will fail them, ch. viii. 14. If we are weaving to ourselves holy garments and robes of righteousness, we shall have the benefit of them when our work comes to be reviewed, and every man shall reap as he sowed, and wear as he wove.
7. O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good. 8. The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more: thine eyes are upon me, and I am not. 9. As the cloud is consumed and vanisheth away; so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. 10. He shall return no more to his house, neither shall his place know him any more. 11. Therefore I will not refrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul. 12. Am I a sea, or a whale, that thou settest a watch over me? 13. When I say, My bed shall comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint; 14. Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions: 15. So that my soul chooseth strangling, and death rather than my life. 16. I loathe it: I would not live always: let me alone; for my days are vanity.
Job, observing perhaps that his friends, though they would not interrupt him in his discourse, yet began to grow weary, and not to heed much what he said, here turns to God, and speaks to him. If men will not hear us, God will; if men cannot help us, he can; for his arm is not shortened, neither is
