CHAPTER VIII.

SOLOMON AND HIS POETRY.

WE have already glanced at some of the aspects of this great man's character; but that, both as a man, and as a writer, is far too magnificent and peculiar, not to demand a chapter to itself.

Magnificence is, indeed, the main quality of Israel's "Grand Monarque," as Coleridge calls him. The frequent sublimity, and the fluctuating interest, which surrounded his father's career, he possessed not. But the springtide of success which was his history, the abundance of his peace, his inexhaustible wealth, the pomp of his establishment, the splendor of the house and the temple which he built, the variety of his gifts and accomplishments, the richness and diversified character of his writings, and the manifold homage paid him by surrounding tribes and monarchs, all proclaimed him "every inch a king," and have rendered "Solomon and his glory," proverbial to this hour. He sat, too, in the center of a wide-spread commerce, bringing in its yearly tribute of wealth to his treasury, and of fame to his name. Even when he sinned, it was with a high hand, on a large scale, and with a certain regal gusto; he did not, like common sinners, sip at the cup of corruption, but drank of it, "deep and large," emptying it to the dregs. When satiety invaded his spirit, that, too, was of a colossal character, and, for a season, darkened all objects with the shade of vanity and vexation of spirit." And when he suffered, his groans seemed those of a demigod in torment; his head became waters, and his eyes a fountain of tears. Thus, on all his

sides, bright or black, he was equally and roundly great. Like a pyramid, the shadow he cast in one direction, was as vast as the light he received on the other.

No monarch in history can be compared, on the whole, with Solomon. From the Nebuchadnezzars, the Tamerlanes, and similar "thunderbolts of war," he differs in kind, as well as in degree. He was the peaceful temple-they were the armed towers; his wisdom was greater than his strength—they were sceptred barbarians, strong in their military prowess. In accomplishments, and in the combination of good sense with genius, he reminds us of Julius Cæsar; but he, too, was a man of war from his youth, besides being guilty of crimes both against his country and his own person,* blacker far than any recorded of the proverbialist of Israel;-a union, let us rather call him, of some of the qualities of the "good Haroun Alraschid," with some of those of our own Alfred the Great. To the oriental grandeur-the love of peace, poetry, and pleasure which distinguished the caliph-he added the king's sense of justice, and homely, practical wisdom.

It was his first to prove to the world that peace has greater triumphs, and richer glories, than war. All the useful, as well

pattern and a patron.

as elegant arts found in him at once a He collected the floating wisdom of his country, after having intermingled it with his own, into compact shape. He framed a rude and stuttering science, beautiful, doubtless, in its simplicity, when he "spake of all manner of trees," from the cedar to the hyssop. He summoned into being the power of commerce, and its infant feats were mighty, and seemed, in that day, magical. He began to bind hostile countries together by the mild tie of barter-a lesson which might have been taught him, in the forest of Lebanon, by the interchange between the "gold clouds metropolitan" above, and the soft valleys of Eden below. He built palaces of new and noble architecture; and although no pictures adorned the gates of the temple, or shone above the altar of incense, or met the eyes of the thousands who * See Suetonius.

worshiped within the court of the Gentiles, yet was not that temple itself with its roof of marble and gold, its flights of steps, its altars of steaming incense, its cherubic shapes, its bulls and molten sea-one picture, painted on the canvas of the city of Jerusalem, with the aid of the hand which had painted long before the gallery of the heavens? In poetry, too, he excelled, without being so filled and transported by its power as his father; and, as with David, all his accomplishments and deeds were, during the greater part of his life, dedicated to, and accepted by, heaven.

Such is an outline of his efforts for the advancement of his country. Amid them all, the feature which most exalts, and most likens him to Jesus, is the peace of his reign. It was this which entitled him to build the temple; it is this which casts a certain soft green light, like the light of the rainbow, around his glory; and it is this which directs every Christian eye instantly to a "greater than Solomon," in the promised peace and blessedness which the 72d Psalm predicts as the results of the reign of David's son. The gorgeous Solomon, and the humble Jesus, wear one badge-the white rose of peace; the one above his crown of gold, and the other amid his crown of thorns.

Every man has a dark period in his career, whether it is publicly known or concealed, whether the man outlive or sink before it. Solomon, too, had his "hour and power of darkness." Stern justice forbids us to wink at its principal cause. It was luxury, aggravated into sin. Fullness of bread, security, splendor, wealth, like many suns shining at once upon his head, enfeebled and corrupted a noble nature. Amid the mazy dances of strange women, he was whirled away into the embrace of demon gods. He polluted the simplicity of the service he had himself established. He rushed headlong into many a pit, which he had himself pointed out, till "Wisdom" refused to be "justified" of this her chosen child. Sorrow trod faithfully and fast in his track of sin. Luxury begat listlessness, and this listlessness began soon to burn, a still slow fire, about his heart.

His misery became wonderful, passing the woe of man; the more, as in the obscuration of his great light, enemies, like birds obscene and beasts of darkness, began to stir abroad. The general opinion of the Church, founded upon the Book of Ecclesiastes, is, that he repented and forsook his sins before death. Be this true or not, the history of his fall is equally instructive. The pinnacle ever overhangs the precipice.. Any great disproportion between gifts and graces, renders the former fatal as a knife is to the suicide, or handwriting to the forger. We ardently hope that Solomon became a true penitent. But, though he had not, his writings, so far from losing their value, would gain new force; the figure of their fallen author would form a striking frontispiece, and their solemn warnings would receive an amen, as from the caves of perdition. A slain Solomon!—since fell Lucifer, son of the morning, what more impressive proof of the power of evil? And, like him, he would seem majestic, though in "ruins"-not "less than archangel ruined, and the excess of glory obscured." Alas! is it not still often so in life? Do you not often see beings-whom, for their powers, accomplishments, or charms, you must almost worship

-on whom the sun looks with fonder and more lingering rayattracting, by their fatal beauty, the dark powers, and becoming monuments of folly, or miracles of woe? Is there not what we must in our ignorance call a mysterious ENVY, in the universe, which will not allow the beautiful to become the perfect, nor the strong the omnipotent, nor the lofty to reach the clouds? That ENVY (if we dare use the word) is yet unspent ; and other mighty shades, hurled down into destruction, may be doomed to hear their elder brethren, from Lucifer to Byron, raising the thin shriek of gloomy salutation, "Are ye also become weak as we?" as they follow them into their cheerless regions.

With a bound of gladness, we pass from the dark, uncertain close of Solomon's life, to his works and genius. In these he exhibits himself in three aspects-a poetical proverbialist, a poetical inquirer, and a poetical lover; the first, in his Proverbs -the second, in the Book of Ecclesiastes-and the third, in the

Song of Songs. But, in all three, you see the true soul of a poet-understanding poet in that high sense in which the greatest poet is the wisest man.

David was essentially a lyrical, Solomon is a combination of the didactic and descriptive poet. His pictures of folly, and his praises of wisdom, prove his didactic; many scenes in the Song, and, besides others, his picture of old age in Ecclesiastes, -his descriptive powers. His fire, compared with David's, is calm and glowing-a guarded furnace, not a flame tossed by the wind; his flights are fewer, but they are as lofty, and more sustained. With less fire, he has more figure; the colors of his style are often rich as the humming-bird's wing, and proclaim, at once, a later age, and a more voluptuous fancy. The father has written hymns which storm the feelings, melt the heart, rouse the devotion, of multitudes; the son has painted still rich pictures, which touch the imaginations of the solitary and the thoughtful. The one, though a great, can hardly be called a wise poet; the other, was the poet-sage of Israel-his imagination and intellect were equal, and they interpenetrated.

The Proverbs appear to have been collected by him, with many important additions, into their present form. A few others were annexed afterward. They now lie before us, a massive collection of sententious truths, around which Solomon has hung illustrations, consisting of moral paintings, and of meditative flights.

We have first the material, or Proverbs proper. A proverb may, perhaps, be best defined a common-sense truth, condensed in a sentence, and sealed or starred with an image. It was certainly a fine conception, that of curdling up the common sense of mankind into pleasing and portable form-of driving the flocks of loose, wandering thoughts from the wide common into the penfolds of proverbs. Proverbs have been compared to the flights of oracular birds. They tell great general truths. They show the same principles and passions to have operated in every age, and prove thus the unity of man. They engrave, unintentionally, ancient manners and customs; and serve as