First and always, Eloah. That name and what it represents do not fail him. He has had terrible experiences, and all of them must have been appointed by Eloah. But the name is venerable still, and despite all difficulties he clings to the idea that righteousness goes with power and wisdom. The power bewilders--the wisdom plans inconceivable things--but beyond there is righteousness. Next. He has seen a gleam of light across the darkness of the grave, through the gloom of the under-world. A man going down thither,--his body to moulder into dust, his spirit to wander a shadow in a prison of shadows,--may not remain there. God is almighty--He has the key of Sheol--a star has shown for a little, giving hope that out of the under-world life may be recovered. It is seen that Eloah, the Maker, must have a desire to the work of His hands. What does that not mean? Again. It has been borne upon his mind that the record of a good life abides and is with the All-seeing. What is done cannot be undone. The wasting of the flesh cannot waste that Divine knowledge. The eternal history cannot be effaced. Spiritual life is lived before Eloah who guards the right of a man. Men scorn Job; but with tears he has prayed to Eloah to right his cause, and that prayer cannot be in vain. A just prayer cannot be in vain because God is ever just. From this point thought mounts upward. Eloah for ever faithful--Eloah able to open the gate of Sheol--not angry for ever--Eloah keeping the tablet of every life, indifferent to no point of right,--these are the steps of progress in Job's thought and hope. And these are the gain of his trial. In his prosperous time none of these things had been before him. He had known the joy of God but not the secret, the peace not the righteousness. Yet he is not aware how much he has gained. He is coming half unconsciously to an inheritance prepared for him in wisdom and in love by Eloah in whom he trusts. A man needs for life more than he himself can either sow or ripen. And now, hear Job. Whether the rock shall be graven or not he cannot tell. Does it matter? He sees far beyond that inscribed cliff in the desert. He sees what alone can satisfy the spirit that has learned to live. "'Tis life whereof our nerves are scant, Oh life not death, for which we pant; More life, and fuller, that I want." Not dimly this great truth flashes through the web of broken ejaculation, panting thought. "_But I know it: my Redeemer liveth; And afterward on the dust He will stand up; And after my skin they destroy, even this, And without my flesh shall I see Eloah, Whom I shall see_ FOR ME, _And mine eyes shall behold and not the stranger-- My reins are consumed in my bosom_."