The grand Tryal :: :: University of Virginia Library

The grand Tryal

or, Poetical Exercitations upon the book of Job. Wherein, Suitable to each Text of that sacred Book, a modest Explanation, and Continuation of the several Discourses contained in it, is attempted by William Clark

Clarke, William (fl. 1684-1688)

II.

III.

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IV.

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VII.

VIII.

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XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

III.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

IV.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

Cap. XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

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Cap. XXXIII.

1. Wherefore Iob, I pray thee, hear my speeches, & hearken to all my words.

Wherefore I pray thee, Job, but hear me now,
And to what I design to speak, allow
But some attention, and I shall commend
Thy Patience, if thou hear me to an end.

2. Behold now, I have opened my mouth, my tongue hath spoken in my mouth.

For now, dear friend, that I intend to speak
Upon thy Case, I will indeed expect
Attentive silence, whilst impartially
I both demonstrate where thy Errors ly,
And where thou hast spoke right, for now I see
The whole weight of the Matter lyes on me.

3. My words shall be of the uprightness of my heart, and my lips shal utter knowledge clearly.

I therefore plainly do intend to show
What I by certain information know:
Not what old Women feign, or old men dream,
Or what is scattered by injurious Fame
Through all the Neighbourhood, on this occasion,
But openly, without dissimulation,
I'le show thee, what my thoughts are of the thing,
On which I have heard so much reasoning.

4. The spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.

Now, though I am not far advanc'd in years,
And neither Head, nor Face, as yet appears
In the grave dye of a few withered Hairs.
Yet I'me a Man, a Creature rational,
And know as much, as any of you all,
For that good Spirit, which did me create,
Has taught me both to speak, and to debate,
On such occasions; and I do not know
Why that Almighty God, who first did blow
On this poor lump of Clay, might not have then
Inform'd me full as well, as other men,
With that high Knowledge, and made me advance
Beyond my years, in what, with Arrogance,
Our aged Men would to themselves enhaunce.

5. If thou canst answer me, set thy words in order before me, stand up.

Again, my friend, I'de have thee to give ear
To what I speak, because I am not here
To take advantage of thy misery,
And tell thee in thy face, so bitterly,
As these thy friends have done, that thou art lost,
Undone, adjudg'd to Wrath, thy Doom engross't;
And that bless'd Countenance, that Light divine,

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Which on all those, whom God esteems doth shine,
Is as to thee eclips'd, and will no more
Refresh thy Soul, as it has done before.
No, in such terms I'le not my self express,
Nor use such harsh reflections, as these
Upon thy by-past life; which if, or no
'Twas such as they alledge, I do not know.
Nor will I check thee, when I hear thee speak
Of thy Integrity, or answer make
To what I charge thee, with firm Protestation,
Of thy unspotted Life, and Conversation.
No, thou shalt have free libertie for me
To answer for thy self, thou may'st be free,
In what thou hast to say in thy defence,
And openlie lay out thy Innocence,
With all the art thou canst: take courage then,
And be not overcome by what those men
Have spoke against thee: for I lay no hold
On their assertions; be thou therefore bold,
And speak out freely what in thy defence
Thou canst alledge, with all the eloquence,
God has afforded thee; be not afraid
Of mortal men, who usuallie upbraid
Their friends with sin, though neer so innocent,
When they perceive them in this exigent,
As thou art now, for if thou trulie be
Just, innocent, upright, from error free,
As thou seem'st to pretend, by all that's past,
Why shouldst thou not stand to it to the last.

6. Behold, I am according to thy wish, in Gods stead. I also am formed out of the clay.

Yes, why should'st not stand to it, for what thou
Hast all this while desir'd is granted now:
Thou didst desire that thou with God might'st plead,
Why do it now, for I am in his stead:
I have Commission from our Great Creator
To hear thee speak at large upon the matter:
Thou didst desire that he would hear thy case,
Why then, imagine I am in his place,
Appointed as his Auditor, say then,
Speak out thy mind, be not afraid of men:
For I, although I bear the character
Of the Almighties High Commissioner,
Yet I am but a man, as thou art, made
Of dust, and clay, be not thou then afraid
That I will crush thee, or increase thy woe,
By screwing up thy doleful sorrows, no,
I will not use such methods, but appear
As soft, as if I whisper'd in thy ear.

7. Behold my terrour shall not make thee afraid, neither shall my hand be heavy upon thee.

I will not use thee, as thy friends ha'done,
Nor shall my Language in their Channel run:
Such picquant words, as they have spoke, shall be
In my speech on the subject far from me.

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8. Surely thou hast spoken in mine hearing, and I have heard the voice of thy words, saying.

To tell thee freely then, I must complain
Of what I've heard thee speak once, and again:
I must reprove thee for some rash Expressions,
Which thou hast often used in thy Passions;
For, to my grief, my friend, I've heard thee speak,
What from a wise man I did not expect.

9. I am clean, without transgrassion, I am innocent, neither is there iniquity in me.

O, saidst thou, I am clean, and innocent,
Free of all sin, in Virtue eminent:
I know not what belongs to vice, not I,
Nor am acquainted with Iniquity.

10. Behold he findeth occasions against me, he counteth me for his enemy.

Yet hath my great Creator punished
Me no less, then if I had merited
Such Judgments by my sins: his Wrath has seiz'd
Upon my very soul; and he is pleas'd,
'Stead of rewarding my Integrity,
To look upon me, as his Enemy:
'Has pick't a Quarrel with me, and of late
'Has sore oppress't me, for I know not what.

11. He putteth my feet in the stocks, he marketh all my paths

For, as a Malefactor I am us'd,
Arrested, clap't i'th' Stocks, Arraign'd, Accus'd,
Condemn'd, and Forfault, and yet all this time
He'll not let me so much as know my Crime.

12. Behold in this thou art most unjust, I will answer thee, that God is greater then man,

Why here, it is now, here, my friend, indeed
Thou grossly err'st: and if thou dost proceed
In such untam'd Expressions, as these,
Allow me, friend, to tell thee in thy face,
Wer't thou as upright, innocent, and just
As he, whom God did out of pregnant Dust
At first creat, before his foul Offence
Did stain the beauty of his Innocence:
Yet thus to talk, thus foolishly to prate,
Thus with thy Maker to expostulate,
As if he were thy Equal, is, my friend,
Such an escape, as no man can defend.
This is thy Crime, this is thy Fault indeed,
Thus guiltily thy Innocence to plead;
Thus in asserting thy Integrity
T'accuse Heavens Monarch of Iniquity,
Who is all Justice: Pray what dost thou mean,
Do'st think if thou be from all Error clean,
But he is far more clean; if thou be pure,
Upright, and just in all thy ways, why sure
He, who inspir'd thee, he who made thee live,
He, who to thee these Qualities did give
Must be more just, and upright, he must be
Far more then thou art, from all Error free.

13. Why dost thou strive against him, for he giveth not account of any of his matters.

And as he's just, so he is likewise great,
For his Dominion is unlimitate:
He rules this spacious Universe alone,
And truely is accountable to none
For his procedure: why then would'st contend
With him, whose strength, and power doth far transcend
Thy weak Capacity: why would'st dispute
With him who is supream, and absolute

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I'th' government o'th' World: with him, who sends
Blessings or Plagues on Enemies, or Friends,
As he thinks fit, and is not ty'd to give
To any curious Mortal that doth live,
A reason for his actings; no, not he;
And yet forsooth thou think'st he'll humour thee:
Thou thinks't he will thy longing satisfy,
And condescend t'assign a reason why
He thus doth plague thee: O yes, and do that,
In complaisance to thee, which he as yet
Has never done to any: prethee then
Forbear thy fretting, do no more complain;
But rest assur'd as well as other men,
That—
For any man, as thou dost to debate
With this great God, who all things did create,
Is such a piece of folly, as I may,
In truth, assert most freely, to this day
I have not heard the like: then once again,
My friend, I tell thee, do no more complain
As thou hast done, for if, with patience,
Thou cans't endure what God doth now dispense,
If thou canst suffer, what he doth ordain
At this time for thy Sentence; and abstain
From such Debatings, and Expostulations,
As only sinful men at such occasions
Do use, then by that single Argument
Thou'l't prove that thou art just, and innocent
More then by any I have heard, as yet
Manag'd by thee in all thy long Debate.

14. For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not.

But why all this complaining, why alace
Dost thou so much debate upon the Case,
As if God sent out Judgments here, and there,
Without so much as once declaring War,
But catching of his opportunities,
Did ruine honest Mortals by surprize.
Why here thou err'st too: here indeed, my friend,
Thou dost with God most foolishly contend:
For look you here now, why should we complain
That he doth deal surprizingly with men?
When every day he doth so openly
By th'out-crys of his sweating Ministry,
By Signs, Diseases, Visions, and even
By all the dreadful Heraldry of Heaven
Forwarn us of his Wrath to come, and yet
We understand not, till it be too late
This Universal Language, but complain
When Judgments come, that we are overtane
By meer surprize, and foolishly cry out
We had no warning, whilst in truth I doubt
We did not understand the Dialect,
Of him, who doth so often to us speak.
So that, my friend, thou should'st not thus exclaim
Against thy Maker, for thou art to blame,

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Who didst not understand such revelations,
As usually preceed sad visitations.
For certainly, if thou wilt call to mind
Thy bypast life, I doubt not but thou'lt find
Th'hast had some warnings, were't but in a dream,
Of thy afflictions long before they came.

15. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men; in slumbrings on the bed.

Yes, in a dream, for often-times I know,
God is accustom'd seriously to show
To men (what often they conceal for shame)
Their future state i'th' mirrour of a dream.
For when the active soul outwearied,
With toile o'th' day, at night is brought to bed
Of a sound sleep; then it begins to fly,
Then liberat from the bodies drudgery,
It soares aloft, and in another sphere
Begins to act: nay, then it doth appear,
To be, what we cannot imagine here.
For being then as fit for contemplation
Almost, as 'twill be after separation,
By vision intuitive it sees
The state of things to come, and by degrees
Becomes so subtile, and doth at that rate,
In contemplation then expatiate.
With such delight, as if it did not mean,
By natural Organs e're to act again:
But when some hours it has thus wandered,
And in that time God has discovered,
What for its profit he intends at large,
Then he commands it to its former charge.

16. Then he openeth the ears of men, and sealeth their Instruction.

Have you not sometimes seen a General,
His Officers to his Pavilion call,
Whilst all the Army do securely sleep,
Save a few Companies, who Guard do keep;
And there inform them what he would ha' done,
Give every one his Orders, and anon,
Command each to his Post: so let's suppose,
When in profoundest sleep, the eyes are close,
The Body, one would think, o're-come by death,
(Were't not that only it did softly breath.)
Th'Almighty then is pleas'd, as 'twere, to call
The soul unto him, and inform it all
What he intends to do with it, and then
Commands it to the sleeping Corps again:
Whether, when come the sad Noctambulant,
In a cold sweat, with fear, and rambling faint,
Rouzes the Body from its sleep, and then
Shows its instructions, and begins t'explain
What it has seen, and heard, and plainly shows
What Miseries, Calamities, and Woes,
They may expect God will to them dispense,
If not prevented by true penitence.
Then, as if God himself to them did speak,
When on these admonitions they reflect,
With fear, and horrour they begin to quake.

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17. That he may withdraw man from his purpose, and hide pride from man.

For they consider that his sole intent
By these night-warnings, is but to prevent
Their total fall, and by such signs, as these,
Divert them from those foolish purposes,
Which in their hearts they proudly do intend
To prosecute, did he not kindly send
Such seasonable messages to show
What will be th'event, if they forward go,
In such mad projects, and by consequence
Make them to understand the difference
'Twixt humane power, and his Omnipotence.

18. He keepeth back his soul from the pit, and his life from perishing by the sword.

By Dreams and Visions then he doth allarme
Th'unwary race of man, and from all harm
Preserve both soul and body; which alace
Would fall into the dreadful ambushes
Of th'enemy o'th' world, wer't not that he
Who fram'd both soul and body, thus did free
Them both from danger, and did constantly
Mind their concerns, with a Paternal eye.
For else the murdered body soon would drop
Into the grave, the soul without all hope
Of pardon, in that deep abyss would fall,
Which God in justice has design'd for all
Whom he doth hate, and dolefully, in Chains,
Compare short pleasures, with eternal pains,
Thus then we see how much we should esteem
The ordinar Phænomenon of a dream,
And not contemn it, because usual,
As if a common accident to all
Occurring in their sleep, ane aëry thing,
Of which the wiser make no reckoning:
For sure those dreams, and visions contain
The mind of God, and are not shown in vain.

19. He is chastned also with pain upon his bed, and the multitude of his bones with strong pains.

Next, as by dreams, so by diseases too
The Spirit of God is pleased to allow
Kind warnings to us: for, if understood,
All sicknesses of body for our good,
Are sent upon us; so that did we know
What kindness by diseases God doth show
To our poor souls, we never would complain,
But think our selves most happy in our pain.
For let's observe now, don't we daily see
How man in health from all diseases free,
Consumes his precious years so wantonly,
As if he never did expect to die.
He so imploys his time in sinful pleasure,
As for devotion he can find no leasure:
But when diseases on his body seize,
And conquering death approaches by degrees:
When th'lungs all overflow'n with constant rain
Of Pituite, that falls down from the Brain,
Afford scarce room for breathing, when the Blood
Is in its Circulation withstood
By stagnant humours, when the Bones do ake,

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And all the Pillars of the Body shake,

20. So that his life abhorreth bread, and his soul dainty meat.

When for his food he has no appetite,
And in his Table he takes no delite.
But every dainty Dish doth nauseate,
On which, with pleasure he did feed of late.

21. His flesh is consumed away that it cannot be seen, and his bones, that were were not seen, stick out.

VVhen all his flesh, in health so plump and fair,
Now rotten, and consum'd, doth not appear
As formerly, but shrunk quite to the bone,
The bones, which were not seen before, anon
Stick out i'th' figure of a Skeleton.

22. His soul draweth nigh to the grave, and his life to the destroyers.

When in this sad condition on his bed
He lyes, and sees that all his hopes are fled,
And he must die: when all he can perceive
Is nothing but the avenue o'th' grave,
And with himself he now considereth
There's no avoiding of a certain death.

23. If there be a messenger with him, an interpreter, one amongst a thousand to shew man his uprightness.

Then he begins with horrour to reflect
Upon his bypast actions, and take
Account of all his wandrings: then he falls
On thoughts of Heaven, and for Preachers calls:
For pious men, who in this sad occasion,
May by their words afford him consolation,
And teach him how he may attain salvation.
Then all his former wayes he doth abhorre,
Complains on sin, and can endure no more
To hear the voice of pleasure in his ears;
But buried now in sorrows, pains, and fears,
His only thought, his sole consideration
Is what shall become, after separation
Of his poor soul: how that in death shall fare,
For which, in life, he took so little care.
And if, perhaps (which is rare to be found)
A man of God appear, who can expound
The matter to him, and before his eyes
Draw out the Map of his iniquities,
Speak to his soul, and to his anxious heart.
The gracious language of the Heavens impart.

24. Then he is gracious to him, & saith, deliver him from going down to the pit, I have found a ransome.

Then will this good man to his God address,
And say, have pity on this sinners case,
Father of mercy, for I'me confident
He of his sins doth seriously repent:
Restore him to his health, and let him see
How much, O Lord, he is oblig'd to thee;
Who, when thou couldst have ruin'd him with ease,
And made him perish in this sad disease,
Art pleas'd to let him live, that he may yet
Express thy glory in his mortal state.
To this petition God shall lovingly
Make answer well, this sinner shall not dye:
For I have found him in this exigent
Vext at his sins, and truly penitent:
Then let him live, for I his heart have try'd,
And for his errors he hath satisfy'd;
I'me reconcil'd, and freely to him give

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Full liberty yet for some years to live.

25. His flesh shall be fresher then a childs, he shall return to the days of his youth.

At this his sicknesse shall decrease apace,
His spirits shall return, and in his face,
The blossoms of new life shall then appear,
As when the Spring doth usher in the year:
His flesh shall be as soft, and delicate,
As it appear'd once in his infant state.

16. He shall pray unto God, and he will be favourable unto him, and he shall see his face with joy, for he will render unto man his righteousness.

But that's not all, for as to health restor'd,
So God to him most kindly shall afford
That sweet communion with himself, which all
Esteem so much, who on his Name do call:
And that bless'd comfort, which afflictions cloud,
So long time from this poor mans soul did shrowd,
Shall then more bright appear, and shine again,
As when the Sun triumphant after rain,
Unto the longing Earth himself displays,
And chears her up with warm refreshing rays:
Then he shall be above all calumny,
And shall rejoice in his integrity:
Shall pray to God, with successe, and no more
Sadly suspect, as he had done before,
That he, who dwells in Heaven did disdain
So much as t'hear him, when he did complain,
And all his tears, and prayers were in vain.

27. He looketh upon men, and if any say, I have sinned, and perverted that which was right, and it profited me not.

For our good God in mercy infinite,
Be sure, my friend, doth take no small delite,
To save a sinner that is penitent,
When he perceives him heartily repent:
For often upon men he casts his eye,
Where if he in a corner doth espy
Some poor heart-bursting sinner on his knees,
Whose outrun eyes are now upon the lees,
Whose voice with crying to that note is shrunk,
As if he mutter'd through a hollow Trunk:
Who after many a sad, and killing groan,
Whose heat would almost melt a heart of stone,
In a few words, can only stammer out,
Lord, I have sinn'd,—and now what doth it boot?
What doth it boot, good Lord, what after all
My trade of sin, can I my profit call?
Ay me, good God, to what, by just account?
Doth th'provenue of all my sins amount?
What have I gain'd, alace, what have I gain'd?
To what have I by my dear sins attain'd?
How foolishly, good Lord, as now appears,
Have I consum'd my profitable years,
And spent the cream of all my youth, and strength,
In prosecution of what now at length,
Affords no profit to my soul, but brings
The thoughts of sad, and execrable things
Into my mind; which though I do deplore,
And, by thy grace, intend to act no more,
Yet the remembrance of my wanton years,

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Present a prospect of perpetual fears
Before my eyes; and I still apprehend
That I shall justly suffer in the end
For all my sins, unless that thou in Grace
Wilt hear me, and have pity on my Case.

28. He will deliver his soul from going into the pit, and his life shall see the light.

This poor convinced sinner God will hear,
And to him soon most gracious appear;
He will not let him perish, but will save
His soul from Hell, his body from the Grave.

29. Lo all these things worketh God oftentimes with man

Thus then by Dreams, by Visions, and Diseases,
And by his Preachers, whensoere he pleases,
He warns us of our danger, and commands
His killing Angels oft to hold their hands,
For a few years at least, that he may see
What the effects will of these Warnings be.

30. To bring back his soul from the pit, to be enlightned with the light of the livlng.

For in mens ruine he no pleasure takes,
But even suspends his Justice for their sakes,
That they may have some leasure to repent,
And not be reeking in Offences sent
Like Devils, t'endure eternal punishment.
But of their foolish Errors undeceiv'd,
Spite of themselves they may at length be sav'd.

31. Mark well, O Iob, hearken unto me, hold thy peace, and I will speak.

Then pray, my friend, remark what I have said
And to what I have yet to say take heed:
Observe me, pray, and to my words give ear
For it is fit thou with attention hear
What God has by Commission ordered me
To speak, dear friend, in reference to thee.

32. If thou hast any thing to say, speak, for I desire to justifie thee.

Yet if th'hast any thing to say, my friend,
In thy defence, I'le not be so unkind,
As to command thee silence, but allow
Thee liberty to speak, and argue too
Against what I have said, for my intent
I'th' series of my present Argument,
Is, (if I can) to prove thee Innocent.

33. If not, hearken unto me, hold thy peace, and I shall teach thee wisdom.

If not, pray hold thy peace, be silent pray
And with attentive mind mark what I say,
Mark what I say, for by his Divine Grace,
Who ordered me to speak upon this Case,
I'le teach thee Wisdom, more then ever yet
Thou understood'st, although thou wert of late
Renown'd for Wit, and Literature, at least,
In Reputation rank'd amongst the best,
Of those sharp Wits, who live here in the East.