A Palace of Ancient Israel
CHAPTER IV. SAMUEL AND SAUL
We come now to the period when, for the first time, Israel as a nation attains sufficient unity to come under the control of a single monarch. Samuel, the last of the judges, causes Saul to be elected king of the united tribes. Saul is succeeded by David, and he in turn by his son Solomon. The three reigns cover a period of about ninety years, from 1020 to 930 B.C. For this brief period alone all Israel is united into a somewhat homogeneous monarchy. But even at best, it is the powerful hand of David more than any national unity of spirit that holds the various tribes together; and under Solomon, dissensions are gathering force, which are to cause the disruption of the kingdom immediately after that monarch’s death.
As the latter day Jew looked back upon this period, across an interval of centuries, it seemed to him that the kingdom of Israel, in this its time of relative might, had shone as a star of the first magnitude in the oriental firmament. But in truth it was only the eye of national prejudice that could thus magnify the mild effulgence of Hebrew glory. In reality, the kingdom of Israel, even under David, was but a petty state; and such power as it seemed to wield was due largely to the momentary weakness of surrounding nations. It chanced that the epoch of Hebrew monarchy was contemporary with the XXIst Dynasty of Egypt, during which time that land was governed simultaneously by the Tanites and high priests, whose dissensions so weakened the government that the chief authority gradually passed into the hands of the commanders of Libyan mercenaries. Torn thus by internal dissensions, Egypt had little time to think of external conquests. Meantime a condition of things not altogether dissimilar existed in Mesopotamia. Babylonia and Assyria were struggling one against the other, and mutual antagonism weakened each principality.
It was this temporary lull in the warlike activities of the really great oriental nations that enabled the Israelites to achieve a momentary position of relative consequence, which traditionalists of a later day were able, with some slight show of verisimilitude, to magnify into a period of actual glory. “Man to console himself for a destiny most frequently leaden,” says Ernest Renan,[1] speaking of the last great Hebrew monarchs, “is constrained to imagine brilliant ages in the past, a kind of fireworks which did not last, but produced a charming effect. In spite of the anathemas of prophets and the disparagements of the northern tribes, Solomon left, amongst a section of the people, an admiration that expressed itself, after a lapse of two or three hundred years, in the half-legendary history which figures in the Books of the Kings. The misfortunes of the nation only served to excite these visions of a lost ideal. Solomon became the pivot of the Jewish agada, [the legendary element of the Talmud]. To the author of Ecclesiastes he is already the richest and most powerful of men. In the Gospels he is the embodiment of all human splendour. A luxuriant garden of myths grew up around him. Mohammed fed on it; then on the wings of Islamism this shower of fables, variegated with a thousand hues, spread through the whole world the magic name of Soleyman. The historic fact concealed behind these marvellous stories was roughly this: A thousand years before Christ there reigned in a petty acropolis in Syria, a petty sovereign, intelligent, and unencumbered by national prejudices, understanding nothing of the true vocation of his race, and wise according to the ideas of that time, though it cannot be said that he was superior in morality to the average Eastern monarchs of all ages. The intelligence which evidently characterised him, early won him a reputation for philosophy and learning. Each age understood this learning and philosophy according to the style which predominated. Thus Solomon was in turn parabolist, naturalist, sceptic, magician, astrologer, alchemist, cabalist.”
With these corrective views in mind, we may turn to the history of Israel in its golden epoch, with less fear of gaining an incorrect historical image. We shall be still further guarded if we recall that it is very doubtful whether any of the Hebrew writings now extant were in existence in the time of David and Solomon. By this it is not meant to deny that the Israelites of that day knew how to write. Doubtless the works of that period were drawn upon by later compilers. But by far the larger number of records ostensibly dating from this time must be ascribed to a much later period. It is held by Renan that “the only part of the Hebrew literature now preserved, which might be attributed to Solomon, is that portion of the Book of Proverbs which extends from verse one of the tenth chapter to the sixteenth verse of the twenty-second chapter.” And even this, it is alleged, cannot in all probability be the work of Solomon himself. “Not only have we no work of Solomon’s,” says Renan, “but it is probable that he did not write at all.” Even if such iconoclastic views as this are accepted, it does not follow that we have no knowledge of the true history of Israel in this period. The fact is quite the contrary; however much tradition may have befogged the view, the time of Hebrew monarchy is a truly historical epoch, the main outlines of which are clearly preserved. We turn now to the detailed examination of this interesting period.[a]