Solomon and Solomonic Literature

by Moncure Daniel Conway

Of course only Biblical mythology is here referred to. The Moslem mythology of Solomon and the Queen (Balkis) has taken from the Avesta Wise King Yima’s potent ring, and his power over demons, and other fables, in most instances to be noted only as an unconscious recognition of a certain general accent common to the narratives of the two great kings. Yet it can hardly be said that the stories of Yima in the Avesta and of Solomon in the Bible are entirely independent of each other,—as in Yima’s being given by the deity a sort of choice and selecting the political career, Ahura Mazda saying: “Since thou wanted not to be the preacher and the bearer of my law, then make thou my worlds thrive, make my worlds increase: undertake thou to nourish, to rule, and to watch over my world.” Ahura Mazda requests Yima to build an enclosure for the preservation of the seeds of life (men, animals, and plants) during a succession of fatal winters, and some of the particulars resemble both the legend of the ark and that of building the temple. Yima was, like Solomon, a priest-king (he is also called “the good shepherd”); he was, like Solomon, beset by satans (daêvas), and after a reign of fabulous prosperity he finally fell by uttering falsehood. What the falsehood was is told in the Bundahis: the good part of creation was ascribed to the evil creator.

Several other heroes of the Avesta have assisted in the idealisation of Solomon, notably King Vîstâspa, already mentioned. Like Solomon, he is famous for his horses and his wealth. Zoroaster exhorts him, “All night long address the heavenly Wisdom; all night long call for the Wisdom that will keep thee awake.” From Zoroaster the “Young King” learned “how the worlds were arranged”; and he is advised “have no bad priests or unfriendly priests.”

It is now necessary to inquire whether there is anything corresponding to these facts in the ancient writings ascribed to Solomon. The lower criticism has little liking for Solomon, and makes but a feeble struggle for the genuineness of his canonical books against the higher criticism, which forbids us to assign any word to Solomon. But these higher critics acquired their learning while lower critics, and it is difficult to repress an occasional suspicion of the survival of an unconscious prejudice against the royal secularist, apparent in their unwillingness to admit any participation at all of Solomon in the wisdom books. Is this quite reasonable?

It is of course clear that Solomon cannot be described as the author of any book or compilation that we now possess. But neither did Boccaccio write Shakespeare’s “Cymbeline,” nor Dryden’s “Cymon and Iphigenia,” nor the apologue of the Ring in Lessing’s “Nathan the Wise,” nor Tennyson’s “Falcon,” all of which, however, are his tales. I select Boccaccio for the illustration because his defiance of “the moralities” led to his suppression in most European homes, thus facilitating the utilization of his ideas by others who derive credit from his genius, this being precisely what might be expected in the case of the great secularist of Jerusalem. For no one can carefully study the Book of Proverbs without perceiving that a large number of them never could have been popular proverbs, but are terse little essays and fables, some of them highly artistic, which indicate the presence at some remote epoch of a man of genius. And I cannot conceive any fair reason for setting aside the tradition of many centuries which steadily united the name of Solomon with much of this kind of writing, or for believing that every sentence he ever uttered or wrote is lost.

It would require a separate work to pick out from the two Anthologies ascribed to Solomon (the First, Proverbs x. i–xxii. 16; the Second, xxv–xxix), the more elaborate thoughts, and piece together those that represent one mind, even were I competent for that work. But this fine task awaits some scholar, and, indeed, the whole Book of Proverbs needs a more thorough treatment in this direction than it has received.

Of the last seven chapters of the Book of Proverbs, one (xxx.), containing the fragments of Agur and his angry antagonist, has been (vii.) considered. Chapters xxv., xxvi., xxvii., and xxxi. 10–31, may with but little elimination fairly come under their general heading, “These are also proverbs of Solomon which the men of Hezekiah, King of Judah, copied out.” Chapters xxviii. and xxix., with their flings at princes and wealth, contain many Jahvist insertions. The admirable verses in xxiv. 23–34, and those in xxxi. 10–29, 31, represent the high secular ethics of the Solomonic school.

The verses last mentioned (exaltation of the virtuous woman) are, curiously enough, blended with “The words of King Lemuel, the oracle which his mother taught him.” The ancient Rabbins identify Lemuel with Solomon, and relate that when, on the day of the dedication of the temple, he married Pharaoh’s daughter, he drank too much at the wedding feast, and slept until the fourth hour of the next day, with the keys of the temple under his pillow. Whereupon his mother, Bathsheba, entered and reproved him with this oracle. Bathsheba’s own amour with Solomon’s father does not appear to have excited any rabbinical suspicion that the description of the virtuous wife with which the Book of Proverbs closes is hardly characteristic of the woman. She was the “Queen Mother,” a part of the divine scheme, her conception of the builder of the temple immaculate, predetermined in the counsels of Jahveh.

The first nine verses of this last chapter in the Book of Proverbs certainly appear as if written at a later day, perhaps even so late as the third century before our era, and aimed at the Jahvist tradition of Solomon. Lemuel seems to be allegorical, and we here have an early instance of the mysterious disinclination to mention the great King’s name. His name, Renan assures us, is hidden under “Koheleth,” but he is not named in the text of that book or even in that of the “Wisdom of Solomon.” In Ezra v. 11 the mention of the temple as the house “which a great king of Israel builded and finished” seems to indicate a purposed suppression of Solomon’s name, which continued (Jeremiah lii. 20 is barely an exception) until this silence was broken by Jesus Ben Sira, and again by Jesus of Nazareth.

The removal of verse 30 (Proverbs xxxi.), clearly a late Jahvist protest, leaves the praise of the virtuous woman with which the book closes without any suggestion of piety. Yet we find here that “her price is far above rubies,” “she openeth her mouth with wisdom,” and one or two other tropes which probably united with some in the First Anthology to evolve more distinctly the goddess Wisdom. Some sentences of the First Anthology grew like mustard seed. “Wisdom resteth in the heart of him who hath understanding” (Proverbs xiv. 33), reappears in 1 Kings iii. 12, and in x. 24 it is definitely stated that it was the wisdom which God had put into Solomon’s heart that made all the earth seek his presence. It was a miracle they went to see; the glory is not that of Solomon, but that of God.[2]

The nearest approach to a personification of Wisdom in the First Anthology is Proverb xx. 15: “There is gold and abundance of pearls, but the lips of knowledge are a (more) precious jewel.” This expands in Job to a long list of precious things—gold, coral, topaz, pearls—all surpassed by Wisdom, and the similitudes journey on to the parables of Jesus, wherein the woman sweeps for the lost silver, and the man sells all he has for the pearl of price. This, however, was a comparatively simple and human development. And the first complete personification of Wisdom, growing out of “the lips of knowledge,” and perhaps influenced by the portraiture of “the virtuous woman,” is an expression of philosophical and poetic religion. This personification is in Proverbs viii. and ix., which are evidently far more ancient than the seven chapters preceding them, and no doubt constitute the original editorial Prologue to the so-called “Proverbs of Solomon,” with the exception of some Jahvist cant about “the fear of Jahveh.” We hear from “the lips of knowledge” a reaffirmation of the “excellent things” said in the Anthologies about the superiority of Wisdom to gems. (The word “ancient” given by the revisers in the margin to viii. 18 may possibly signify the antiquity of the Anthologies when this Prologue was written.) The scholarly writer of the Prologue had closely studied the ancient proverbs, and occasionally gives good hints for the interpretation of some that puzzle modern translators. Thus Wisdom, in describing herself as “sporting” (viii. 30), indicates the right meaning of x. 23 to be that while the fool finds his sport in mischief, the wise man finds his sport with wisdom. (This proverb may also have suggested the laughter of the “virtuous woman” in xxxi. 25.)