Job retorts upon Zophar, after a wearisome recital of dreary commonplaces intended for comfort, “No doubt but ye are the people, and wisdom will die with you. But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior to you; yea, who knoweth not such things as these?” To the speech introduced by these words, Eliphaz sharply replies, “Art thou the first man that was born? or wast thou made before the hills? Hast thou heard the secret of God, and dost thou restrain wisdom to thyself? What knowest thou that we know not? What understandest thou which is not in us? With us are both the gray-headed and very aged men, much elder than thy father.” Upon this latter sentiment Elihu expresses himself when he finds opportunity to put in a word; “Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged understand judgment.”
Indeed the Book of Job abounds in sharp speeches and replies as cutting as the speeches they answer. The sufferer obstinately refuses to accept their theory of his affliction or to adopt the remedies his friends propose. “Ye are forgers of lies,” he exclaims, “ye are physicians of no value. O that ye would altogether hold your peace, and it should be your wisdom.” In response to this appeal, Eliphaz becoming piqued proceeds to administer consolation with the lash: “Shall a wise man utter vain knowledge, and fill his belly with the east wind? Should he reason with unprofitable talk or with speeches wherewith he can do no good?” “I have heard many such things,” cries the wretched Job, “miserable comforters are ye all. If your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you; but I would strengthen you with my mouth, and the moving of my lips should assuage your grief.”
There were some word-battles between Sanballat and Nehemiah while the latter was trying to build the walls of Jerusalem, and the former was doing his best to hinder the enterprise. “Come,” says Sanballat, “let us meet together in one of the villages in the plain of Ono,”—let us be friendly, let us have a pleasant visit together,—“but he thought to do me mischief.” The crafty Sanballat did not take the builder of Jerusalem napping. Nehemiah replies, “I am doing a great work so that I can not come down; why should the work cease whilst I leave it to come down to you?” Are your wishes of such mighty importance, O Sanballat that I should leave the Lord’s work? Must the building cease that I may gratify your whim? Go to, Sanballat, go to; I can not come down. My work is great and noble; thou art a trifler and hypocrite! In precisely this vein was Spurgeon’s reply to the pious bore who sent up word, “Tell him a servant of the Lord wishes to see him.” It was Saturday afternoon, and Spurgeon replied, “Tell him I am busy with his Master!”
Sanballat will have at him again: “It is reported among the heathen, and Gashmu said it, that thou and the Jews think to rebel; for which cause thou buildest the wall that thou mayest be their king, according to these words. And thou hast appointed prophets to preach of thee at Jerusalem, saying, There is a king in Judah; and now shall it be reported to the king according to these words. Come now, therefore, and let us take counsel together.” To this tissue of falsehoods manufactured by the mendacious Gashmu, Nehemiah flashes back with indignation, “There are no such things as thou sayest, but thou feignest it out of thine own heart.” Nehemiah comes very near giving what Touchstone would call the “lie direct,” and he gives it without the qualifying “If.”
Robert Collyer has the following comment upon Gashmu, who was quoted by Sanballat as authority for the charge that Nehemiah was going to set up for a king: “This only, this one thing is left: A good man was doing a good work with all his might, and bad men tried to hinder him. They tried to hurt his person. Gashmu was above that. He was none of your common rowdies. Sanballat and Tobiah might do that, but not Gashmu; yet Gashmu will sit there and nurse his dislike, and be glad to hear the petty stories that float like thistledown through the neighborhood against the innocent man; words are twisted and turned to meanings Nehemiah never thought of, and Gashmu hopes they are true; he wishes they were true; the wish is father to the thought, and he believes them. * * * So Gashmu has permitted his prejudices to grow into a lie. Gashmu is to live thousands of years for one purely false assertion, and to be the representative man of unprincipled gossips and narrow bigots as long as the world stands.”
Another illustration. When the woman, in time of famine, appealed to the King of Israel as he passed by, “Help, my lord, O King,” he turned upon her with the somewhat grim rejoinder, “If the Lord do not help thee, whence shall I help thee?” Her case was hopeless, if the Lord could do nothing.
Although the resemblance is not very strong, this incident suggests a story of Michael Angelo. It calls to mind the way in which he took revenge upon Biagio di Cesena. This courtier ventured to criticise his Last Judgment. With a swift stroke he turned the Minos of the fresco into a likeness of his critic. Biagio complained to the Pope. “Where has he placed you?” inquired the Pontiff. “In Hell,” said Biagio. “I am sorry,” replied the Pope; “If it had been in Purgatory, something might have been done, but in Hell I have no jurisdiction.”
II.
Examples of prompt and keen retort are not confined to the Old Testament. When we turn to the New Testament, we find additional illustrations.
When Paul was making his defence before the Council, he said, “Men and brethren, I have lived in all good conscience before God until this day.” This declaration of innocence offended the High Priest Ananias, and he commanded those who stood by, to smite the speaker on the mouth. This raised the indignation of Paul, and with the swiftness of an arrow he transfixed the Priest, “God shall smite thee, thou whited wall; for sittest thou to judge me after the law and commandest me to be smitten contrary to the law?” This was understood as a bolt of invective by those who heard it, for they asked in alarm, “Revilest thou God’s High Priest?” The answer of Paul was a still more subtle sarcasm: “I wist not, brethren, that he was the High Priest.” There was nothing in the conduct of the man to betoken the dignity of his office. God’s High Priest must surely be fair and impartial. God’s High Priest would never counsel violence. The mistake, Paul would imply, was perfectly natural and excusable.