Muhammed, the great Arabian lawgiver, drew very largely from the
rabbinical legends in his composition of the Kurán, every verse of which
is considered by pious Muslims as a miracle, or wonder (_ayet_). The
well-known story of the spider weaving its web over the mouth of the
cave in which Muhammed and Abú Bekr had concealed themselves in their
flight from Mecca to Medina was evidently borrowed from the Talmudic
legend of David's flight from the malevolence of Saul: Immediately after
David had entered the cave of Adullam, a spider spun its web across the
opening. His pursuers presently passing that way were about to search
the cave; but perceiving the spider's web, they naturally concluded that
no one could have recently entered there, and thus was the future king
of Israel preserved from Saul's vengeance.
King David once had a narrow escape from death at the hands of Goliath's
brother Ishbi. The king was hunting one morning when Satan appeared
before him in the form of a deer.[72] David drew his bow, but missed
him, and the feigned deer ran off at the top of his speed. The king,
with true sportsman's instinct, pursued the deer, even into the land of
the Philistines--which, doubtless, was Satan's object in assuming that
form. It unluckily happened that Ishbi, the brother of Goliath,
recognised in the person of the royal hunter the slayer of the champion
of Gath, and he immediately seized David, bound him neck and heels
together, and laid him beneath his wine-press, designing to crush him to
death. But, lo, the earth became soft, and the Philistine was baffled.
Meanwhile, in the land of Israel a dove with silver wings was seen by
the courtiers of King David fluttering about, apparently in great
distress, which signified to the wise men that their royal master was in
danger of his life. Abishai, one of David's counsellors, at once
determined to go and succour his sovereign, and accordingly mounted the
king's horse, and in a few minutes was in the land of the Philistines.
On arriving at Ishbi's house, he discovered that gentleman's venerable
mother spinning at the door. The old lady threw her distaff at the
Israelite, and, missing him, desired him to bring it back to her.
Abishai returned it in such a manner that she never afterwards required
a distaff. This little incident was witnessed by Ishbi, who, resolving
to rid himself of one of his enemies forthwith, took David from beneath
the wine-press, and threw him high into the air, expecting that he would
fall upon his spear, which he had previously fixed into the ground. But
Abishai pronounced the Great Name (often referred to in the Talmud), and
David, in consequence, remained suspended between earth and sky. In the
sequel they both unite against Ishbi, and put him to death.[73]
[72] That the arch-fiend could, and often did, assume various
forms to lure men to their destruction was universally
believed throughout Europe during mediæval times and
even much later; generally he appeared in the form of a
most beautiful young woman; and there are still current
in obscure parts of Scotland wild legends of his having
thus tempted even godly men to sin.--In Asiatic tales
rákshasas, ghúls (ghouls), and such-like demons
frequently assume the appearance of heart-ravishing
damsels in order to delude and devour the unwary
traveller. In many of our old European romances fairies
are represented as transforming themselves into the
semblance of deer, to decoy into sequestered places
noble hunters of whom they had become enamoured.
[73] The "Great Name" (in Arabic, _El-Ism el-Aazam_, "the
Most Great Name"), by means of which King David was
saved from a cruel death, as above, is often employed in
Eastern romances for the rescue of the hero from deadly
peril, as well as to enable him to perform supernatural
exploits. It was generally engraved on a signet-ring,
but sometimes it was communicated orally to the
fortunate hero by a holy man, or by a king of the
genii--who was, of course, a good Muslim.
Of Solomon the Wise there are, of course, many curious rabbinical
legends. His reputation for superior sagacity extended over all the
world, and the wisest men of other nations came humbly to him as pupils.
It would appear that this great monarch was not less willing to afford
the poorest of his subjects the benefit of his advice when they applied
to him than able to solve the knottiest problem which the most
keen-witted casuist could propound. One morning a man, whose life was
embittered by a froward, shrewish wife, left his house to seek the
advice of Solomon. On the road he overtook another man, with whom he
entered into conversation, and presently learned that he was also going
to the king's palace. "Pray, friend," said he, "what might be your
business with the king? I am going to ask him how I should manage a wife
who has long been froward." "Why," said the other, "I employ a great
many people, and have a great deal of capital invested in my business;
yet I find I am losing more and more every year, instead of gaining; and
I want to know the cause, and how it may be remedied." By-and-by they
overtook a third man, who informed them that he was a physician whose
practice had fallen off considerably, and he was proceeding to ask King
Solomon's advice as to how it might be increased. At length they reached
the palace, and it was arranged among them that the man who had the
shrewish wife should first present himself before the king. In a short
time he rejoined his companions with a rather puzzled expression of
countenance, and the others inquiring how he had sped, he answered: "I
can see no wisdom in the king's advice; he simply advised me to _go to a
mill_." The second man then went in, and returned quite as much
perplexed as the first, saying: "Of a truth, Solomon is not so wise as
he is reported to be; would you believe it?--all he said to me when I
had told him my grievance was, _get up early in the morning_." The third
man, somewhat discouraged by these apparently idle answers, entered the
presence-chamber, and on coming out told his companions that the king
had simply advised him to _be proud_. Equally disappointed, the trio
returned homeward together. They had not gone far when one of them said
to the first man: "Here is a mill; did not the king advise you to go
into one?" The man entered, and presently ran out, exclaiming: "I've got
it! I've got it! I am to beat my wife!" He went home and gave his spouse
a sound thrashing, and she was ever afterwards a very obedient wife.[74]
The second man got up very early the next morning, and discovered a
number of his servants idling about, and others loading a cart with
goods from his warehouse, which they were stealing. He now understood
the meaning of Solomon's advice, and henceforward always rose early
every morning, looked after his servants, and ultimately became very
wealthy. The third man, on reaching home, told his wife to get him a
splendid robe, and to instruct all the servants to admit no one into his
presence without first obtaining his permission. Next day, as he sat in
his private chamber, arrayed in his magnificent gown, a lady sent her
servant to demand his attendance, and he was about to enter the
physician's chamber, as usual, without ceremony, when he was stopped,
and told that the doctor's permission must be first obtained. After some
delay the lady's servant was admitted, and found the great doctor seated
among his books. On being desired to visit the lady, the doctor told the
servant that he could not do so without first receiving his fee. In
short, by this professional pride, the physician's practice rapidly
increased, and in a few years he acquired a large fortune. And thus in
each case Solomon's advice proved successful.[75]
[74] At the "mill" the man who was plagued with a bad wife
doubtless saw some labourers threshing corn, since
_grinding_ corn would hardly suggest the idea of
_beating_ his provoking spouse.--By the way, this man
had evidently never heard the barbarous sentiment,
expressed in the equally barbarous English popular
rhyme--composed, probably, by some beer-sodden
bacon-chewer, and therefore, in those ancient times,
_non inventus_--
A woman, a dog, and a walnut tree,
The more you beat 'em, the better they be--
else, what need for him to consult King Solomon about
his paltry domestic troubles?
[75] A variant of this occurs in the _Decameron_ of
Boccaccio, Day ix, Nov. 9, of which Dunlop gives the
following outline: Two young men repair to Jerusalem to
consult Solomon. One asks how he may be well liked, the
other how he may best manage a froward wife. Solomon
advised the first to "love others," and the second to
"repair to the mill." From this last counsel neither can
extract any meaning; but it is explained on their road
home, for when they came to the bridge of that name they
meet a number of mules, and one of these animals being
restive its master forced it on with a stick. The advice
of Solomon, being now understood, is followed, with
complete success.
Among the innumerable tales current in Muhammedan
countries regarding the extraordinary sagacity of
Solomon is the following, which occurs in M. René
Basset's _Contes Populaires Berbèrs_ (Paris, 1887):
Complaint was made to Solomon that some one had stolen a
quantity of eggs. "I shall discover him," said Solomon.
And when the people were assembled in the mosque
(_sic_), he said: "An egg-thief has come in with you,
and he has got feathers on his head." The thief in great
fright raised his hand to his head, which Solomon
perceiving, he cried out: "There is the culprit--seize
him!" There are many variants of this story in Persian
and Indian collections, where a kází, or judge, takes
the place of Solomon, and it had found its way into our
own jest-books early in the 16th century. Thus in _Tales
and Quicke Answeres_, a man has a goose stolen from him
and complains to the priest, who promises to find out
the thief. On Sunday the priest tells the congregation
to sit down, which they do accordingly. Then says he,
"Why are ye not all seated?" Say they, "We _are_ all
seated." "Nay," quoth Mass John, "but he that stole the
goose sitteth not down." "But I _am_ seated," says the
witless goose-thief.
We learn from the Old Testament that the Queen of Sheba (or Sába, whom
the Arabians identify with Bilkís, queen of El-Yemen) "came to prove the
wisdom of Solomon with hard questions," and that he answered them all.
What were the questions--or riddles--the solution of which so much
astonished the Queen of Sheba we are not told; but the Rabbis inform us
that, after she had exhausted her budget of riddles, she one day
presented herself at the foot of Solomon's throne, holding in one hand a
bouquet of natural flowers and in the other a bouquet of artificial
flowers, desiring the king to say which was the product of nature. Now,
the artificial flowers were so exactly modelled in imitation of the
others that it was thought impossible for him to answer the question,
from the distance at which she held the bouquets. But Solomon was not to
be baffled by a woman with scraps of painted paper: he caused a window
in the audience-chamber to be opened, when a cluster of bees immediately
flew in and alighted upon one of the bouquets, while not one of the
insects fixed upon the other. By this device Solomon was enabled to
distinguish between the natural and the artificial flowers.
Again the Queen of Sheba endeavoured to outwit the sagacious monarch.
She brought before him a number of boys and girls, apparelled all alike,
and desired him to distinguish those of one sex from those of the other,
as they stood before him. Solomon caused a large basin full of water to
be fetched in, and ordered them all to wash their hands. By this
expedient he discovered the males from the females; since the boys
merely washed their hands, while the girls washed also their arms.[76]
[76] Among the Muhammedan legends concerning Solomon and the
Queen of Sheba, it is related that, after he had
satisfactorily answered all her questions and solved her
riddles, "before he would enter into more intimate
relations with her, he desired to clear up a certain
point respecting her, and to see whether she actually
had cloven feet, as several of his demons would have him
to believe; or whether they had only invented the defect
from fear lest he should marry her, and beget children,
who, as descendants of the genii [the mother of Bilkís
is said to have been of that race of beings], would be
even more mighty than himself. He therefore caused her
to be conducted through a hall, whose floor was of
crystal, and under which water tenanted by every variety
of fish was flowing. Bilkís, who had never seen a
crystal floor, supposed that there was water to be
passed through, and therefore raised her robe slightly,
when the king discovered to his great joy a beautifully
shaped female foot. When his eye was satisfied, he
called to her: 'Come hither; there is no water here, but
only a crystal floor; and confess thyself to the faith
in the one only God.' Bilkís approached the throne,
which stood at the end of the hall, and in Solomon's
presence abjured the worship of the sun. Solomon then
married Bilkís, but reinstated her as Queen of Sába, and
spent three days in every month with her."
The Arabians and Persians, who have many traditions regarding Solomon,
invariably represent him as adept in necromancy, and as being intimately
acquainted with the language of beasts and birds. Josephus, the great
Jewish historian, distinctly states that Solomon possessed the art of
expelling demons, that he composed such incantations also by which
distempers are alleviated, and that he left behind him the manner of
using exorcisms, by which they drive out demons, never to return. Of
course, Josephus merely reproduces rabbinical traditions, and there can
be no doubt but the Arabian stories regarding Solomon's magical powers
are derived from the same source. It appears that Solomon's signet-ring
was the chief instrument with which he performed his numerous magical
exploits.[77] By its wondrous power he imprisoned Ashmedai, the prince
of devils; and on one occasion the king's curiosity to increase his
store of magical knowledge cost him very dear--no less than the loss of
his kingdom for a time. Solomon was in the habit of daily plying
Ashmedai with questions, to all of which the fiend returned answers,
furnishing the desired information, until one day the king asked him a
particular question which the captive evil spirit flatly refused to
answer, except on condition that Solomon should lend him his
signet-ring. The king's passion for magical knowledge overcame his
prudence, and he handed his ring to the fiend, thereby depriving himself
of all power over his captive, who immediately swallowed the monarch,
and stretching out his wings, flew up into the air, and shot out his
"inside passenger" four hundred leagues distant from Jerusalem! Ashmedai
then assumed the form of Solomon, and sat on his throne. Meanwhile
Solomon was become a wanderer on the face of the earth, and it was then
that he said (as it is written in the book of Ecclesiasticus i, 3):
"This is the reward of all my labour"; which word _this_, one learned
Rabbi affirms to have reference to Solomon's walking-staff, and another
commentator, to his ragged coat; for the poor monarch went begging from
door to door, and in every town he entered he always cried aloud: "I,
the Preacher, was king over Israel in Jerusalem!" But the people all
thought him insane. At length, in the course of his wanderings, he
reached Jerusalem, where he cried, as usual: "I, the Preacher, was king
over Israel in Jerusalem!" and as he never varied in his recital,
certain wise counsellors, reflecting that a fool is not constant in his
tale, resolved to ascertain, if possible, whether the poor beggar was
really King Solomon. With this object they assembled, and taking the
mendicant with them, they gave him the magical ring and led him into the
throne-room.[78] Ashmedai no sooner caught sight of his old master than
he shrieked wildly and flew away; and Solomon resumed his mild and
beneficent rule over the people of Israel. The Rabbis add, that ever
afterwards, even to his dying day, Solomon was afraid of the prince of
devils, and could not go to sleep without having his bed surrounded by
an armed guard, as it is written in the Book of Canticles, iii, 7, 8.
[77] According to the Muslim legend, eight angels appeared
before Solomon in a vision, saying that Allah had sent
them to surrender to him power over them and the eight
winds which were at their command. The chief of the
angels then presented him with a jewel bearing the
inscription: "To Allah belong greatness and might."
Solomon had merely to raise this stone towards the
heavens and these angels would appear, to serve him.
Four other angels next appeared, lords of all creatures
living on the earth and in the waters. The angel
representing the kingdom of birds gave him a jewel on
which were inscribed the words: "All created things
praise the Lord." Then came an angel who gave him a
jewel conferring on the possessor power over earth and
sea, having inscribed on it: "Heaven and earth are
servants of Allah." Lastly, another angel appeared and
presented him with a jewel bearing these words (the
formula of the Muslim Confession of Faith): "There is no
God but _the_ God, and Muhammed is his messenger." This
jewel gave Solomon power over the spirit-world. Solomon
caused these four jewels to be set in a ring, and the
first use to which he applied its magical power was to
subdue the demons and genii.--It is perhaps hardly
necessary to remark here, with reference to the
fundamental doctrine of Islám, said to have been
engraved on the fourth jewel of Solomon's ring, that
according to the Kurán, David, Solomon, and all the
Biblical patriarchs and prophets were good Muslims, for
Muhammed did not profess to introduce a new religion,
but simply to restore the original and only true faith,
which had become corrupt.
[78] We are not told here how the demon came to part with
this safeguard of his power. The Muslim form of the
legend, as will be seen presently, is much more
consistent, and corresponds generally with another
rabbinical version, which follows the present one.
Another account informs us that the demon, having cajoled Solomon out of
possession of his magic ring, at once flung it into the sea and cast the
king 400 miles away. Solomon came to a place called Mash Kerim, where he
was made chief cook in the palace of the king of Ammon, whose daughter,
called Naama, became enamoured of him, and they eloped to a far distant
country. As Naama was one day preparing a fish for broiling, she found
Solomon's ring in its stomach, which, of course, enabled him to recover
his kingdom and to imprison the demon in a copper vessel, which he cast
into the Lake of Tiberias.[79]
[79] According to the Muslim version, Solomon's temporary
degradation was in punishment for his taking as a
concubine the daughter of an idolatrous king whom he had
vanquished in battle, and, through her influence, bowing
himself to "strange gods." Before going to the bath, one
day, he gave this heathen beauty his signet to take care
of, and in his absence the rebellious genie Sakhr,
assuming the form of Solomon, obtained the ring. The
king was driven forth and Sakhr ruled (or rather,
misruled) in his stead; till the wise men of the palace,
suspecting him to be a demon, began to read the Book of
the Law in his presence, whereupon he flew away and cast
the signet into the sea. In the meantime Solomon hired
himself to some fishermen in a distant country, his
wages being two fishes each day. He finds his signet in
the maw of one of the fish, and so forth.
It may appear strange to some readers that the Rabbis should represent
the sagacious Solomon in the character of a practitioner of the Black
Art. But the circumstance simply indicates that Solomon's acquirements
in scientific knowledge were considerably beyond those of most men of
his age; and, as in the case of our own Friar Bacon, his superior
attainments were popularly attributed to magical arts. Nature, it need
hardly be remarked, is the only school of magic, and men of science are
the true magicians.
_Unheard-of Monsters._
The marvellous creatures which are described by Pliny, and by our own
old English writers, Sir John Mandeville and Geoffrey of Monmouth, are
common-place in comparison with some of those mentioned in the Talmud.
Even the monstrous _roc_ of the _Arabian Nights_ must have been a mere
tom-tit compared with the bird which Rabbi bar Chama says he once saw.
It was so tall that its head reached the sky, while its feet rested on
the bottom of the ocean; and he affords us some slight notion of the
depth of the sea by informing us that a carpenter's axe, which had
accidentally fallen in, had not reached the bottom in seven years. The
same Rabbi saw "a frog as large as a village containing sixty houses."
Huge as this frog was, the snake that swallowed it must have been the
very identical serpent of Scandinavian mythology, which encircled the
earth; yet a crow gobbled up this serpent, and then flew to the top of a
cedar, which was as broad as sixteen waggons placed side by
side.--Sailors' "yarns," as they are spun to marvel-loving old ladies in
our jest-books, are as nothing to the rabbinical accounts of "strange
fish," some with eyes like the moon, others horned, and 300 miles in
length. Not less wonderful are some four-footed creatures. The effigy of
the unicorn, familiar to every schoolboy, on the royal arms of Great
Britain, affords no adequate idea of the actual dimensions of that
remarkable animal. Since a unicorn one day old is as large as Mount
Tabor, it may readily be supposed that Noah could not possibly have got
a full-grown one into the ark; he therefore secured it by its horn to
the side, and thus the creature was saved alive. (The Talmudist had
forgot that the animals saved from the Flood were in pairs.)[80] The
celebrated Og, king of Bashan, it seems, was one of the antediluvians,
and was saved by riding on the back of the unicorn. The dwellers in
Brobdignag were pigmies compared with the renowned King Og, since his
footsteps were forty miles apart, and Abraham's ivory bed was made of
one of his teeth. Moses, the Rabbis tell us, was ten cubits high[81] and
his walking-stick ten cubits more, with the top of which, after jumping
ten cubits from the ground, he contrived to touch the heel of King Og;
from which it has been concluded that that monarch was from two to three
thousand cubits in height. But (remarks an English writer) a certain
Jewish traveller has shown the fallacy of this mensuration, by meeting
with the end of one of the leg-bones of the said King Og, and travelling
four hours before he came to the other end. Supposing this Rabbi to have
been a fair walker, the bone was sixteen miles long!
[80] Is it possible that this "story" of the unicorn was
borrowed and garbled from the ancient Hindú legend of
the Deluge? "When the flood rose Manu embarked in the
ship, and the fish swam towards him, and he fastened the
ship's cable to its horn." But in the Hindú legend the
fish (that is, Brahma in the form of a great fish) tows
the vessel, while in the Talmudic legend the ark of Noah
takes the unicorn in tow.
[81] In a manuscript preserved in the Lambeth Palace Library,
of the time of Edward IV, the height of Moses is said to
have been "xiij. fote and viij. ynches and half"; and
the reader may possibly find some amusement in the
"longitude of men folowyng," from the same veracious
work: "Cryste, vj. fote and iij. ynches. Our Lady, vj.
fote and viij. ynches. Crystoferus, xvij. fote and viij.
ynches. King Alysaunder, iiij. fote and v. ynches.
Colbronde, xvij. fote and ij. ynches and half. Syr Ey.,
x. fote iij. ynches and half. Seynt Thomas of
Caunterbery, vij. fote, save a ynche. Long Mores, a man
of Yrelonde borne, and servaunt to Kyng Edward the
iiijth., vj. fote and x. ynches and half."--_Reliquæ
Antiquæ_, vol i, p. 200.