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EDITED BY THE REV.
W. ROBERTSON NICOLL, M.A., LL.D.,
_Editor of "The Expositor."_
THE BOOK OF ECCLESIASTES,
BY
SAMUEL COX, D.D.
TORONTO:
WILLARD TRACT DEPOSITORY AND BIBLE DEPOT,
CORNER OF YONGE AND TEMPERANCE STREETS.
1890.
THE BOOK
OF
ECCLESIASTES.
_WITH A NEW TRANSLATION._
BY
SAMUEL COX, D.D.,
AUTHOR OF COMMENTARIES ON JOB, RUTH, ETC.
"_Omnia vanitas, praeter amare Deum, et illi soli servire._"
--ST. AUGUSTINE.
TORONTO:
WILLARD TRACT DEPOSITORY AND BIBLE DEPOT,
CORNER OF YONGE AND TEMPERANCE STREETS.
1890.
PREFACE.
The Lectures on which this book is founded were delivered
five-and-twenty years ago, and were published in A.D. 1867.[1] For
more than twenty years the book has been out of print, a large first
edition having been speedily sold out. No other edition was issued
owing to the fact that my publisher soon passed into another
profession. I have often been asked to reprint it, but have always
felt that, before reprinting, I must rewrite it. Till of late,
however, I could not command leisure for the task. But when, at the
commencement of this year, the Editor of THE EXPOSITOR'S BIBLE did me
the honour to ask permission to reprint it, that he might include it
in this excellent series, I had leisure at command, and cheerfully
devoted it to the revision of my work. Among the more recent
commentaries I have read with this purpose in view, those which I
have found most helpful and suggestive were that of Delitzsch, that by
Dr. Wright, that of Dean Plumptre, and the fine fragment contributed
to THE EXPOSITOR by Dr. Perowne, the Dean of Peterborough. In the
preface to the former edition I dwelt on my indebtedness to the
commentary of Dr. Ginsburg, published in A.D. 1861. In my judgment it
still remains by far the best, the most thorough and the most sound.
It has but one serious defect; it is addressed to scholars, and so
abounds in learning and erudition that it can never come into popular
use. Indeed even now, although during the last twenty years there has
been an immense advance in the study and exposition of Holy Writ, and
many able and learned men have devoted themselves to the service of
the general public, I know of no commentary on this Scripture which
really meets the wants of the unlettered. I cannot but hope,
therefore, that _the Quest of the Chief Good_ may still serve a useful
purpose, and that, in its revised form, it may be found helpful to
those who most need help.
[1] _The Quest of the Chief Good._ A Popular Commentary on the book
ECCLESIASTES, with a New Translation. By Samuel Cox. London: Arthur
Miall.
In rewriting the book I have retained as much as I could of its
earlier form, lest the vivacity of a first exposition of the Scripture
should be lost. And, indeed, the alterations I have had to make are
but slight for the most part, though I have in many places altered,
and, I hope, amended both the translation and the commentary: but
there are one or two additions--they will be found on pages 20-26,
and, again, in certain modifications of the exposition of Chapter
XII., verses 9-12, on pages 279-305; dealing mainly with the structure
of _Ecclesiastes_--which may, I trust, be found useful not to the
general reader alone. Since the original edition appeared I have had
to study the Book of Job, most of the Psalms, many of the Prophetical
writings, and some of the Proverbs; and it was inevitable that in the
course of these pleasant studies I should arrive at clearer and more
definite conceptions on the structure of Hebrew poetry. These I now
place at the service of my readers, and submit to the judgment of
scholars and critics.
Another and much more important result of these subsequent studies has
been that I can now speak with a more assured confidence of the theme
of this Scripture, and of its handling by the Author. None of the
scholars who have recently commented on the Book doubt that it _is_
the quest of the chief good which it sets forth; and though some of
them arrange and divide it differently, yet, on the whole and in the
main, they are agreed that this quest is urged in Wisdom, in
Pleasure, in Devotion to Public Affairs, in Wealth and in the Golden
Mean; and that it ends and rests in the large noble conclusion, that
only as men reverence God, and keep his commandments, and trust in his
love, do they touch their true ideal, and find a good that will
satisfy and sustain them under all changes, even to the last. The
assent to this view of the Book was by no means general a quarter of a
century ago; but it is so wide now, and is sanctioned by the authority
of so many schools of learning, that I think no reader of the
following pages need be disturbed by misgivings as to the accuracy of
the main lines of thought here set forth.
Few Scriptures of the Old Testament are so familiar to the general
reader as _Ecclesiastes_; and that mainly, I think, because it
addresses itself to a problem which is "yours, mine, every man's."
Many more quotations from it have entered into our current speech than
have been taken from _Job_, for example, although _Job_ is both a much
larger and a much finer poem than this--"the finest poem," as a great
living poet has said, "whether of the modern or of the antique world."
It is a Book which can never lose its interest for men until the last
conflict in the long strife of doubt has led in the final victory of
faith; and seems, in especial, to adapt itself to the conditions and
wants of the present age. It deals with the very questions which are
in all our minds, and offers a solution of them, and, so far as I
know, the only solution, in which those who have "eternity in their
hearts" can rest. May all who study it, with such help as the
following pages afford, find rest to their souls, and be drawn from
the heat and strife of thought into the calm and hallowed sanctuary
which it throws open to our erring feet.
THE HOLME, HASTINGS,
_October 1890_.
CONTENTS.
PAGES
I. THE INTRODUCTION 1-66
Sec. 1. _On the Authorship, Form, Design, and
Contents of the Book_ 3-32
Sec. 2. _On the History of the Captivity_ 32-66
(1) The Babylonian Period 38-43
(2) The Persian Period 43-66
II. THE TRANSLATION 67-110
Sec. 1. _The Prologue_ 69-70
Sec. 2. _The First Section_: or, The Quest of
the Chief Good in Wisdom and in
Pleasure 71-76
Sec. 3. _The Second Section_: or, The Quest in
Devotion to the Affairs of Business 77-86
Sec. 4. _The Third Section_: or, The Quest in
Wealth and in the Golden Mean 87-96
Sec. 5. _The Fourth Section_: or, The Quest
Achieved 97-108
Sec. 6. _The Epilogue_ 109, 110
III. THE EXPOSITION 111-335
Sec. 1. THE PROLOGUE 113-126
Sec. 2. THE FIRST SECTION: or, _The Quest in
Wisdom and in Pleasure_ 127-141
_(a) The Quest in Wisdom_ 127-133
_(b) The Quest in Pleasure_ 133-137
_(c) Wisdom and Pleasure Compared_ 138-140
_(d) The Conclusion_ 140, 141
Sec. 3. THE SECOND SECTION: or, _The Quest in
Devotion to the Affairs of Business_ 142-186
(_a_) The Quest obstructed by Divine Ordinances 143-145
(_b_) And by Human Injustice and Perversity 145-151
(_c_) It is rendered hopeless by the base
Origin of Human Industries 151, 152
(_d_) Yet these are capable of a nobler
Motive and Mode 153-158
(_e_) So also a happier and more effective
Method of Worship is open to Man; 158-160
(_f_) And a more helpful and consolatory
Trust in the Divine Providence 161-164
(_g_) The Conclusion 164, 165
APPLICATION 165-186
(_a_) Devotion to Business springs from
Jealous Competition: 168, 169
(_b_) It tends to form a Covetous Temper; 169-171
(_c_) To produce a Materialistic Scepticism; 171-173
(_d_) To make Worship Formal and Insincere; 173, 174
(_e_) And to take from Life its Quiet and
Innocent Enjoyments 175-179
(_f_) The Correctives of this Devotion are,
(1) A Sense of its Perils; 179, 180
(2) And the Conviction that it is
opposed to the Will of God
as expressed--
(_a_) In the Ordinances of
his Providence, 180
(_b_) In the Wrongs which
He permits Men to inflict
upon us; 181
(_c_) But above all in the
immortal Cravings which He
has quickened in the Soul 182, 183
(_g_) Practical Maxims deduced from this
View of the Business-Life 184-186
(1) A Maxim on Co-operation 184
(2) A Maxim on Worship 184, 185
(3) A Maxim on Trust in God 185, 186
Sec. 4. THE THIRD SECTION: or, _The Quest in
Wealth and in the Golden Mean_ 187-228
(A) _The Quest in Wealth_ 188-193
(_a_) The Man who makes Riches his
Chief Good is haunted by Fears
and Perplexities: 188-190
(_b_) For God has put Eternity into his
heart; 190, 191
(_c_) And much that he gains only feeds
Vanity; 191, 192
(_d_) Neither can he tell what it will be
Good for him to have, 192
(_e_) Nor foresee what will become of his
Gains 192, 193
(B) _The Quest in the Golden Mean_ 193-209
(_a_) The Method of the Man who seeks a
Competence 195-199
(_b_) The Perils to which it exposes him 199-207
(1) He is likely to compromise
Conscience: 200, 201
(2) To be indifferent to Censure: 201-203
(3) To despise Women: 203-205
(4) And to be indifferent to Public
Wrongs 205-207
(_c_) The Preacher condemns this Theory
of Human Life 207-209
APPLICATION 209-228
(A) _The Quest in Wealth_ 212-218
(_a_) The Man who makes Riches his Chief
Good is haunted by Fears and
Perplexities 213, 214
(_b_) Much that he gains only feeds Vanity 214, 215
(_c_) He cannot tell what it will be Good
for him to have; 215
(_d_) Nor foresee what will become of his
Gains: 215, 216
(_e_) And because God has put Eternity
into his heart, he cannot be content
with Temporal Gains 216-218
(B) _The Quest in the Golden Mean_ 218-228
(_a_) The Method of the Man who seeks a
Competence 220-222
(_b_) The Perils to which it exposes him 222-226
(1) He is likely to compromise Conscience: 222-224
(2) To be indifferent to Censure: 224
(3) To despise Women: 225
(4) And to be indifferent to Public
Wrongs 226
(_c_) The Preacher condemns this Theory
of Human Life 227, 228
Sec. 5. THE FOURTH SECTION: or, _The Quest
Achieved_ 229-275
(_a_) The Chief Good not to be found in
Wisdom: 230-234
(_b_) Nor in Pleasure: 234-237
(_c_) Nor in Devotion to Affairs and its
Rewards: 237-246
(_d_) But in a wise Use and a wise Enjoyment
of the Present Life, 247-256
(_c_) Combined with a stedfast Faith in
the Life to come 256-275
Sec. 6. THE EPILOGUE: _In which the Problem
of the Book is conclusively Solved_ 276-335
INTRODUCTION.
Sec. 1. _ON THE AUTHORSHIP, FORM, DESIGN, AND CONTENTS OF THE BOOK._
Those who raise the question, "Is life worth living?" answer it
by--living on; for no man lives simply to proclaim what a worthless
and wretched creature he is. But for the most part the question is
mooted in a merely academical and not very sincere spirit. And to the
dainty and fastidious pessimist who goes about to imply his own
superiority by declaring that the world which contents his fellows is
not good enough for him, there still seems no better reply than the
rough but rousing and wholesome rebuke which Epictetus gave to such as
he some nineteen centuries ago, reminding them that there were many
exits from the theatre of life, and advising them, if they disliked
the "show", to retire from it by the nearest door of escape, and to
make room for spectators of a more modest and grateful spirit.
Of the pessimists of his time he demands, "Was it not God who brought
you here? And as what did He bring you? Was it not as a mortal? Was
it not as one who was to live with a little portion of flesh upon the
earth, and to witness his administration--to behold the great
spectacle around you for a little while? After you have beheld the
solemn and august spectacle as long as is permitted you, will you not
depart when He leads you out, adoring and thankful for what you have
heard and seen? For you the solemnity is over. Go away, then, like a
modest and grateful person. Make room for others."
"But why," urges the pessimist, "did He bring me into the world on
these hard terms?"
"Oh!" replies Epictetus, "if you don't like the terms, it is always in
your power to leave them. _He_ has no need of a discontented
spectator. He will not miss you much, nor we either."
But if any man lift the question into a more sincere and noble form by
asking, "_How_ may life be made worth living, or _best_ worth
living?"--in other words, "What is the true ideal, and what the chief
good, of man?"--he will find no nobler answer to it, and none more
convincingly and persuasively put, than that contained in this
Scripture, which modern pessimists are apt to quote whenever they want
to "approve" their melancholy hypothesis "with a text." From
Schopenhauer downward, this Book is constantly cited by them as if it
confirmed the conclusion for which they contend, Taubert even going
so far as to find "a catechism of pessimism" in it. Their assumption,
however, is based on a total misapprehension of the design and drift
of Ecclesiastes of which no scholar should have been guilty, and of
which it is hard to see how any scholar could have been guilty had he
studied it as a whole, instead of carrying away from it only what he
wanted. So far from lending any countenance to their conclusion of
despair, it frankly traverses it--as I hope to show, and as many have
shown before me--and lands us in its very opposite; the conclusion of
the whole matter with the Hebrew Preacher being, that whoso cultivates
the virtues of charity, diligence, and cheerfulness, because God is in
heaven and rules over all, _he_ will not only find life well worth
living, but will pursue its loftiest ideal and touch its true
blessedness.
When scholars and "philosophers" have fallen into a mistake so radical
and profound, it is not surprising that the unlettered should have
followed their leaders into the ditch, and taken this Scripture to be
the most melancholy in the Sacred Canon, instead of one of the most
consolatory and inspiriting, for want of apprehending its true aim.
Beyond all doubt, there is a prevailing ground-tone of sadness in the
Book; for through by far the larger part of its course it has to deal
with some of the saddest facts of human life--with the errors which
divert men from their true aim, and plunge them into a various and
growing misery. But the voice which sinks so often into this tone of
sadness is the voice of a most brave and cheerful spirit, a spirit
whose counsels can only depress us if we are seeking our chief good
where it cannot be found. For the Preacher, as we shall see, does not
condemn the wisdom or the mirth, the devotion to business or the
acquisition of wealth, in which most men find "the chief good and
market of their time," as in themselves vanities. He approves of them;
he shows us how we may so pursue and so use them as to find them very
pleasant and wholesome; how we may so dispense with them, if they
prove beyond our reach, as none the less to enjoy a very true and
abiding content. His constant and recurring moral is that we _are_ to
enjoy our brief day on earth; that God _meant_ us to enjoy it; that we
are to be up and doing, with a heart for any strife, or toil, or
pleasure; not to sit still and weep over broken illusions and defeated
hopes. Our lower aims and possessions become vanities to us only when
we seek in them that supreme satisfaction which He who has "put
eternity into our hearts" designed us to find only in Him and in
serving Him. If we love and serve Him, if we gratefully acknowledge
Him to be the Author of "every good gift and every perfect boon," if
we seek first his kingdom and righteousness; in fine, if we are
Christian in more than name, the study of this Book should not make
us sad. We should find in it a confirmation of our most intimate
convictions, and incentives to act upon them. But if we do not hold
our wisdom, our mirth, our labour, our wealth as the gifts and
ordinances of God for our good, if we permit them to usurp his seat
and become as gods to us, then indeed this Book will be sad enough for
us, but no whit sadder than our lives. It will be sad, and will make
us sad, yet only that it may lead us to repentance, and through
repentance to a true and lasting joy.
* * * * *
It is to be feared that the popular misconception of this singular and
most instructive Scripture goes much farther than this, and extends to
questions much more superficial than that of the temper or spirit it
breathes. If, for example, the average reader of the Bible were asked,
Who wrote this Scripture? when was it written? to whom was it
addressed? what is its general scope and design? his answer, I
suppose, would be: "Solomon wrote this Book; of course, therefore, it
was written in his lifetime, and addressed to the men over whom he
ruled; and his design in writing it was to reveal his own experience
of life for their instruction." And yet in all probability no one of
these answers is true, or anywhere near the truth. According to the
most competent judges, the Book Ecclesiastes was not written by
Solomon, nor for centuries after his death; it was addressed to a
generation of feeble and oppressed captives, who had been carried away
into exile, or had lately returned from it, and not to the free
prosperous nation which rose to its highest pitch in the reign of the
Wise King. It is a dramatic representation of the experience of a
Jewish sage, who deliberately set himself to discover and pursue the
chief good of man in all the provinces and along all the avenues in
which it is commonly sought, eked out by what he supposed or tradition
reported Solomon's experience to have been; and its design was to
comfort men who were groaning under the heaviest wrongs of Time with
the bright hope of Immortality.
To scholars versed in the niceties of the Oriental languages, the most
convincing proof of the comparatively modern date and authorship of
the Book is to be found in its words, and idioms, and style. The base
forms of Hebrew and the large intermixture of foreign terms, phrases,
and turns of speech which characterize it--these, with the absence of
the nobler rhythmic forms of Hebrew poetry, are held to be a
conclusive demonstration that it was written during the Rabbinical
period, at a time long subsequent to the Augustan age in which Solomon
lived and wrote. The critics and commentators whose names stand
highest[2] tell us that it would be just as easy for them to believe
that Hooker wrote Blair's Sermons, or that Shakespeare wrote the plays
of Sheridan Knowles, as to believe that Solomon wrote Ecclesiastes.
And of course on such questions as these we can only defer to the
verdict of men who have made them the study of their lives.
[2] Rosenmueller, Ewald, Knobel, De Wette, Delitzsch, Ginsburg, with
many other competent judges, are agreed on this point; and even those
who in part differ from them differ only in assigning the Book to a
date still farther removed from the time of Solomon. There are but few
scholars who now contend for the Solomonic authorship, and hardly any
of these are, I think, in the first rank.
But with all our deference for learning, we have so often seen the
conclusions of the ripest scholars modified or reversed by their
successors, and we all know "questions of words" to be capable of so
many different interpretations, that probably we should still hold our
judgment in suspense, were there no arguments against the traditional
hypothesis such as plain men use and can understand. There are many
such arguments, however, and arguments that seem to be of a conclusive
force.
As, for instance, this: The whole social state described in this Book
is utterly unlike what we know to have been the condition of the
Hebrews during the reign of Solomon, but exactly accords with the
condition of the captive Israelites, who, at the disruption of the
Hebrew monarchies, were carried away into Babylonia. Under Solomon
the Hebrew State touched its highest point. His throne was surrounded
by statesmen of tried sagacity; his judges were incorrupt. Commerce
grew and prospered, till gold became as common as silver had been, and
silver as common as brass. Literature flourished, and produced its
most perfect fruits. And the people, though heavily taxed during the
later years of his reign, enjoyed a security, a freedom, an abundance
unknown whether to their fathers or to their children. "Judah and
Israel were many in number as the sands by the sea, eating, drinking,
and making merry.... And Judah and Israel dwelt safely, every man
under his vine and under his fig-tree, from Dan even to Beersheba, all
the days of Solomon" (1 Kings iv. 20, 25). But as we read this Book we
gather from it the picture of a social state in which kings were
childish, and princes addicted to revelry and drunkenness (x. 16);
great fools were lifted to high places and rode on stately horses,
while nobles were degraded and had to tramp through the mire (x. 6,
7); the race was not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, nor
riches to the intelligent, nor favour to the learned (ix. 11). The
most eminent public services were suffered to pass unrewarded, and
were forgotten the moment the need for them was passed (ix. 14, 15).
Property was so insecure that to amass wealth was only to multiply
extortions, and to fall a prey to the cupidity of princes and judges,
insomuch that the sluggard who folded his hands, so long as he had
bread to eat, was esteemed wiser than the diligent merchant who
applied himself to the labours and anxieties of traffic (iv. 5, 6).
Life was as insecure as property, and stood at the caprice of men who
were slaves to their own lusts; a hasty word spoken in the divan of
any one of the satraps, or even a resentful gesture, might provoke the
most terrible outrages (viii. 3, 4; x. 4). The true relation between
the sexes was violated; the ruling classes crowded their harems with
concubines, and even the wiser sort of men took to themselves any
woman they desired; while, with cynical injustice, they first degraded
women, and then condemned them as alike and altogether bad, their
hands chains, their love a snare (vii. 26, 28; ix. 9). The oppressions
of the time were so constant, so cruel, and life grew so dark beneath
them, that those who died long ago were counted happier than those who
were still alive; while happier than either were those who had not
been born to see the intolerable evils on which the sun looked calmly
down day by day (iv. 1-3). In fine, the whole fabric of the State was
fast falling into ruin and decay, through the greed and sloth of
rulers who taxed the people to the uttermost in order to supply their
wasteful luxury (x. 18, 19); while yet, so dreadful was their tyranny
and their spies so ubiquitous, that no man dared to breathe a word
against them even to the wife of his bosom and in the secrecy of the
bed-chamber (x. 20): the only consolation of the oppressed was the
grim hope that a time of retribution would overtake their tyrants,
from which neither their power nor their craft should be able to save
them (viii. 5-8).
Nothing would be more difficult than to accept this as a picture of
the social and political features of the Hebrew commonwealth during
the reign of Solomon, or even during those later years of his reign in
which his rule grew hard and despotic. Nothing can well be more
incredible than that this should be intended as a picture of his
reign, save that it should be a picture _drawn by his own hand_! To
suppose Solomon the author of this Scripture is to suppose that the
wisest of kings and of men was base enough to pen a deliberate and
malignant libel on himself, his time, and his realm! On the other
hand, the description, dark and lurid as it is, exactly accords with
all we know of the terrible condition of the Jews who wept in
captivity by the waters of Babylon under the later Persian rule, or
were ground under the heels of the Persian satraps after their return
to the land of their fathers. In all probability, therefore, as our
most competent authorities are agreed, the Book is a poem rather than
a chronicle, written by an unknown Hebrew author, during the
Captivity or shortly after the Return, certainly not before B.C. 500,
and probably somewhat later.[3]
[3] The _fourth_ century B.C. is, I think, its most probable date. In
his recent exposition of Ecclesiastes, the Dean of Wells attempts to
bring the date down to about B.C. 240. But his arguments are so
curious and fanciful, and his conclusion is based so largely on
conjecture, and on dubious similarities of phrase in the language of
the Hebrew Preacher, and of some of the later philosophers of Greece,
that I suspect very little weight will be attached to his gallant
attempt to breathe new life into the moribund hypothesis of the
ingenious Mr. Tyler. Delitzsch, for example, a high and recognized
authority, declares that there is "not a trace of Greek influence" in
this Scripture, though Dr. Plumptre finds so many. But though neither
his hypothesis nor his confessedly conjectural biography of the
unknown author carries the force of "sober criticism," there is much
in his Commentary which will be found very helpful.
Nor is this inference, drawn from the style and general contents of
the Book, unsupported by verses in it which at first sight seem
altogether opposed to such an inference. All the special and direct
indications of authorship are to be found either in the first or in
the last chapter.
The very first verse runs, "The words of the Preacher, son of David,
King in Jerusalem." Now, David had only one son who was King in
Jerusalem, viz. Solomon; the verse, therefore, seems to fix the
authorship on Solomon beyond dispute. Nevertheless, the conclusion is
untenable. For (1) in his known and admitted works the Wise King
distinctly claims to be their author. The Book of Proverbs commences
with "The Proverbs of _Solomon_," and the Canticles with "The Song of
Songs, which is _Solomon's_." But the book Ecclesiastes does not once
mention his name, though it speaks of a "son of David," _i.e._ one of
David's descendants. Instead of calling this son of David Solomon, it
calls him "Coheleth," or, as we translate the word, "The Preacher."
Now, the word Coheleth[4] is not a masculine noun, as the name of a
man should be, but the feminine participle of an unused conjugation of
a Hebrew verb which means "to collect," or "to call together." It
denotes, not an actual man, but an abstraction, a personification, and
is probably intended to denote one who calls a congregation round him,
_i.e._ a preacher, _any_ preacher, preacher _in the abstract_. (2)
This "son of David," we are told, was "King _in Jerusalem_;" and the
phrase implies that the Book was written at a time when there either
were or had been kings _out of_ Jerusalem, when Jerusalem was not the
only site of a Hebrew throne, and therefore after the disruption of
Solomon's realm into the rival kingdoms of Israel and Judah. (3)
Again, we find Coheleth affirming (i. 12), "I _was_ King over Israel
in Jerusalem," and (i. 16), "I acquired greater wisdom than _all_ (all
_kings, i.e._, say the critics) who were before me in Jerusalem." But
to say nothing of the questionable modesty of the latter sentence if
it fell from the pen of Solomon, he was only the second occupant of
the throne in Jerusalem; for Jebus, or Jerusalem, was only conquered
from a Philistine clan by his father David. And if there had been only
one, how could he speak of "all" who preceded him? (4) And still
further, the tense of the verb in "I was King over Israel" can only
carry the sense "I was King, but am King no more." Yet we know that
Solomon reigned over Israel to the day of his death, that there never
was a day on which he could have strictly used such a tense as this.
So clear and undisputed is the force of this tense that the rabbis,
who held Solomon to be the author of Ecclesiastes, were obliged to
invent a fable or tradition to account for it. They said, "When King
Solomon was sitting on the throne of his kingdom, his heart was
greatly lifted up within him by his prosperity, and he transgressed
the commandments of God, gathering to him many horses, and chariots,
and riders, amassing much gold and silver, and marrying many wives of
foreign extraction. Wherefore the anger of the Lord was kindled
against him, and He sent against him Ashmodai, the ruler of the
demons; and he drave him from the throne of his kingdom, and took away
the ring from his hand (Solomon's ring is famous for its marvellous
powers in all Oriental fable), and sent him forth to wander about the
world. And he went through the villages and cities, with a staff in
his hand, weeping and lamenting, and saying, 'I am Coheleth; I was
beforetime Solomon, and reigned over Israel in Jerusalem; but now I
rule over only this staff.'" It is a pretty and pathetic fable, but it
is a fable; and though it proves nothing else, we may fairly infer
from it that, even in the judgment of the rabbis, the book
Ecclesiastes must, on its own showing, have been written after Solomon
had ceased to be King, _i.e._ after he had ceased to live.
[4] Plumptre writes the word Koheleth, and Perowne Quoheleth. Which of
the three initial letters should be used is of little consequence, and
hence I retain the form in most common use. _Ecclesiastes_ is simply
its Greek equivalent.
In the Epilogue (xii. 9-12) the Author of the Book lifts the dramatic
mask from his face, and permits us to see who he really is; a mask,
let me add, somewhat carelessly worn, since we see nothing of it in
the last ten chapters of the Book. Although he has written in a
feigned name, and, without asserting it, has so moulded his phrases,
at least in the earlier chapters of his work, as to suggest to his
readers that he is, if not Solomon himself, at least Solomon's
mouthpiece, attributing the garnered results of his experience to one
greater than himself, that they may carry the more weight--just as
Browning speaks in the name of Rabbi Ben Ezra, for instance, or Fra
Lippo Lippi, or Abt Vogler, borrowing what he can of outward
circumstance from the age and class to which they belong, and yet
really uttering his own thought and emotion through their lips--he now
confesses that he is no king of an age long past, but a rabbi, a sage,
a teacher, a master, who has both made some proverbs of his own and
collected the wise sayings of others who had gone before him, in order
that he might carry some little light and comfort to the sorely bested
men of his own generation and blood.[5] In short, he has exercised his
right as a poet, or "maker," to embody the results of his wide and
varied experience of life in a dramatic form, but is careful to let us
know, before he takes leave of us, that it is a fictitious or dramatic
Solomon, and not Solomon himself, to whom we have been listening
throughout.
[5] See the commentary on these verses for a fuller exposition of his
real claims and position.
So that all the phrases in the Book which are indicative of its
authorship confirm the inference drawn from its style and its
historical contents; viz. that it was not written by Solomon, nor in
his reign, but by an unknown sage of a long-subsequent period, who, by
a dramatic impersonation of the characteristic experiences of the son
of David, or rather of his own experiences blended with the Solomonic
traditions and poured into their moulds, sought to console and
instruct his oppressed fellow-countrymen.
But perhaps the most convincing argument in favour of this conclusion
is that, when once we think of it, we cannot possibly accept the
Solomon set before us in Ecclesiastes as the Solomon depicted in the
historical books of Scripture. Solomon the son of David, with all his
wisdom, played the fool. The foremost man and Hebrew of his time, he
gave his heart to "strange women," and to gods whose ritual was not
only idolatrous, but cruel, dark, impure. In his pursuit of science,
unless the whole East belie him, he ran into secret magical arts,
incantations, divinations, an occult intercourse with the powers of
ill. In all ways he departed from the God who had enriched him with
the choicest gifts, and sank, through luxury, extravagance, and
excess, first into a premature old age,[6] and then into a death so
unrelieved by any sign of penitence, or any promise of amendment, that
from that day to this rabbis and divines have discussed his final
doom, many of them leaning to the darker alternative. This
"uxorious king, whose heart, though large,
Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell
To idols foul,"
is the Solomon of history. But the Solomon of Ecclesiastes is a sage
who represents himself as conducting a series of moral experiments for
the good of mankind, in order that, with all the weight of manifold
experience, he may teach men what is that good and right way which
alone leads to peace. However hardly we may think of the Wise King who
was guilty of so many follies, we can scarcely think of him as such a
fool that he did not know his sins to be sins, or as such a knave that
he deliberately endeavoured to palm them off on other ages, not as
transgressions of the Divine Law, but as a series of delicate
philosophic experiments which he was good enough to conduct for the
benefit of the race.
[6] Solomon could not have been more than sixty years of age when he
died, yet it was not till he was "_old_" that his wives "turned away
his heart from the Lord his God" (1 Kings xi. 4).
On the whole, then, we conclude that in this Book Solomon is taken as
the Hebrew type of wisdom, the wisdom which is based on large and
varied experience; and that this experience is here dramatized, in so
far as the writer could conceive it, for the instruction of a race
which from first to last, from the fable of Jotham to the parables of
our Lord, were accustomed to receive instruction in fictitious and
dramatic forms. Its author was not Solomon, but one of "the wise"
whose name can no longer be recovered; it was written, not in the time
of Solomon, _i.e._ about 1000 B.C., but some five or six centuries
later: and it was addressed not to the wealthy and peaceful citizens
whose king held his court in Jerusalem, but to their degenerate and
enfeebled descendants during the period of the Persian supremacy.[7]
[7] "It may be regarded as beyond doubt that it was written under the
Persian domination" (Delitzsch).
* * * * *
Doubtless many of the prevailing misapprehensions of the meaning,
authorship, and animating spirit of the Book are due, in some measure,
to the singular form into which it is thrown. It belongs to what is
known as the Chokma, _i.e._ the Gnomic school, as opposed to the
Lyrical school of Hebrew poetry. The Jewish, like Oriental literature
in general, early assumed this form, which seems to have a natural
affinity with the Eastern mind. Grave men, who made a study of life or
who devoted themselves to a life of study, were likely to be
sententious, to compress much thought into few words, especially in
the ages in which writing was a somewhat rare accomplishment, or in
which, as in the Hebrew schools, instruction was given by a living
voice. No doubt they began with coining sage or witty aphorisms,
generally lit up with a happy metaphor, each of which was complete in
itself. Such sayings, as memorable and portable, no less than as
striking for beauty and "matterful" for meditation, would commend
themselves to an age in which books were few and scarce. They are to
be found in abundance in the proverbs of all ancient races, and in the
Book of Proverbs which bears the name of Solomon, and many of the more
didactic and elaborate Psalms; while the Book of Job preserves many of
the sayings current among the Arabs and the Egyptians. But with the
Hebrews this literary mode took what is, so far as I am aware, a
singular and unparalleled development, from the time of Solomon
onwards, rising to its highest pitch in the Book of Job, and sinking
to its lowest--within the limits of the Canon at least--in the
cramping over-ingenuities of the acrostic Psalms, and in such proverbs
as those attributed to Agur the son of Jakeh.
This development has not as yet, I think, attracted the attention it
deserves; at least I have nowhere met with any formal recognition of
it. Yet, undoubtedly, while at first the Hebrew sages were content to
compress much wit or wisdom into the small compass of a _gnome_, which
they polished like a gem, leaving each to shine by its own lustre and
to make its own unaided impression, there rose in process of time men
who saw new and great capacities in this ancient literary form, and
set themselves to string their gems together, to arrange their own or
other men's proverbs so aptly and artistically that they enhanced each
other's beauty, while at the same time they compelled them to carry a
logical and continuous stream of thought, to paint an elaborate
picture, to build up a lofty yet breathing personification (that of
Wisdom, for example, in Proverbs viii.), to describe a lengthened and
varied ethical experience (as in Ecclesiastes), and even to weave them
into a large and sublime poem, like that of Job, which has never been
excelled. The reluctance with which this form lends itself to the
nobler functions of literature, the immense difficulty of the
instrument which many of the Hebrew poets wielded, will become
apparent to any one who should try the experiment. We have a goodly
collection of proverbs, drawn from many sources, foreign as well as
native, in the English tongue. Let any man endeavour so to set or
arrange them, or a selection from them, as to produce a fine poem on a
lofty theme, and he at least will not underrate the difficulty of the
task, even though we should concede to him the right to _make_
proverbs where he could not find them to his mind. Yet to many of the
finest Hebrew poets the very restrictions of this form seem to have
possessed a charm such as the far less rigid and encumbering laws of
the sonnet, or even of the triolet and other fanciful poetic wares of
modern times, have exerted on the minds of many of our own poets.[8] A
careful student of the Chokma school might even, I believe, trace the
growth of this art, from its small beginnings in the earlier gnomic
sayings of the Wise, to its culmination in the Book of Job; and, in so
doing, would confer a boon on all students of Holy Writ.[9]
[8] The nearest analogy in English literature to this triumphant use
of the proverb of which I can think is Pope's use of the couplet--in
every way a much lesser feat, however; while its burlesque or
caricature may be found in Tupper's _Proverbial Philosophy_.
[9] In the Book of Proverbs, for instance, he would find, in addition
to the incomparable personification of Wisdom to which I have already
referred, many examples of the proverb proper, many detached sayings
whose underlying thought is illustrated by a stroke of imagination;
such as that (chap. xxv. 11) in which the enhanced beauty of an
appropriate word when spoken at the opportune moment is compared with
the golden fruit of the orange when set in its frame of silver blooms
(_Expositions_, vol. iv.). He would also find some of those small
picturesque descriptions produced by an artistic sequence of
proverbs--the same theme being sometimes worked over by different
artists, in different ages, one and the same moral being enforced by
wholly different designs; as, for instance, where Solomon (chap. vi.
6-11) enforces the duty of a forethoughtful industry by a picture of
the ant and her prudent ways; while an unknown sage of a later date
(chap. xxiv. 30-34) appends precisely the same moral, expressed in the
same words, to his graphic picture of the Sluggard's garden (THE
EXPOSITOR, _Second Series_, vol. vi.). Moreover, if he turn to chapter
xxx. he will see how this form of art, which once soared so high, was
capable of sinking into a kind of puerile conundrum--with its three
too wonderful things, and its four little things which yet are
wise--while its moral tone remained pure and high. And, finally, in
the exposition of the Epilogue to Ecclesiastes he will find how, after
sinking so low, it rose once more, in the hands of the later rabbis,
into many beautiful forms of fable, and exhortation, and parable.
It is to this school that the Preacher belongs, as he himself informs
us in the Epilogue to his fine Poem. He set himself, he says, "_to
compose_, _to collect_, and _to arrange many proverbs_" (xii. 9),
rejecting any that were not "words of truth," preferring, as was
natural in a time so dark, such as were "words of comfort" (xii. 10),
and seeking his sayings both from the sages who stood by the old ways
and those who looked for the new (xii. 11). And, of course, the
arranging of his awkward and inelastic material was far more
difficult than collecting it--arranging it so as to compel it to tell
his story, and carry his argument to its lofty close. It is Story, the
sculptor and poet, I believe, who says that "the best part of every
work of art is unseen," unexpressed, inexpressible in tones, or verse,
or colours: it is that invisible something which lends it dignity,
spirit, life, that "style" which, in this case, is in very deed the
man. And the best part of Coheleth's noble work is this art of
arranging his gnomic sayings in the best order, the order in which
they illuminate each other most brightly and contribute most
effectively to the total impression. Hence, both in translating and in
endeavouring to interpret him, whenever I have had to choose between
rival renderings or meanings, I have made it a rule to prefer that
which most conduced to the logical sequence of his work or carried the
finer sense, deeming that at least so much as this was due to so great
a master, and entertaining no fear that I could invent any meaning
which would outrun his intention.
In fine, if I were to gather up into a few sentences the impression
which "much study" of this Scripture has left on my mind as to the
manner in which the author worked upon it, I should say: that
Coheleth, a man of much of Solomon's original "largeness of heart" and
a great lover of wisdom, set himself to collect the scattered sayings
of the sages who were before him. He took the traditional story of
Solomon as the ground and framework of his poem, at least at the
outset, though he seems to have soon laid it aside, and endeavoured so
to assort and arrange the proverbs he had collected that each would
lead up to the next; while each group of them would describe some of
the ways in which men commonly pursued the chief good, ways in most of
which Solomon was at least reputed to have travelled far. Finding gaps
which could not be well filled up from his large and various
collection, he bridged them over with proverbs of his own composing,
till he had got a sufficient account of each of the main adventures of
that Quest. And, then, he put adventure after adventure together in
the order in which they best led up to his great conclusion.
In all this I have said nothing, it is true, of that "inspiration of
the Almighty" which alone gives man understanding of spiritual things.
But why should not "He who worketh all," and has deigned to use every
form of literary art by which men teach their fellows, move and
inspire a lover of wisdom to collect and arrange the sayings of the
Wise, if by these he could carry truth and comfort to those who were
in sore need of both? And where, save from heaven and from Him who
rules in heaven, could Coheleth have learned the great secret--the
secret of a retributive life beyond the grave? Even the best and
wisest of the Hebrews saw that life only "as through a glass, darkly;"
and even their fitful and imperfect conception of it seems always to
have been--as in the case of David, Job, Isaiah--an immediate gift
from God, and a gift so large that even their hands of faith could
hardly grasp it. No one need doubt the inspiration of a Scripture
which affirms, not only that God is always with us, passing a present
and effective judgment on all we do, but also that, when this life is
over, He will bring every deed and every secret thing into judgment,
whether it be good or whether it be bad. That was not an everyday
thought with the Jewish mind. We find it only in men who were moved by
the Holy Ghost to accept the teaching of his providence or the
revelation of his grace.
* * * * *
As for the design of the Book, no one now doubts that it sets before
us the search for the _summum bonum_, the quest of the Chief Good. Its
main immediate intention was to deliver the exiled Jews from the
misleading ethical theories and habits into which they had fallen,
from the sensualism and the scepticism occasioned by their imperfect
conception of the Divine ways, by showing them that the true good of
life is not to be secured by philosophy, by the pursuit of pleasure,
by devotion to traffic or public affairs, by amassing wealth; but that
it results from a temperate and thankful enjoyment of the gifts of the
Divine bounty, and a cheerful endurance of toil and calamity, combined
with a sincere service of God and a steadfast faith in that future
life in which all wrongs will be righted and all the problems which
now task and afflict us will receive a triumphant solution. Availing
himself of the historical and traditional records of Solomon's life,
he depicts, under that disguise, the moral experiments which he has
conducted; depicts himself as having put the claims of wisdom, mirth,
business, wealth, to a searching test, and found them incompetent to
satisfy the cravings of the soul; as attaining no rest nor peace until
he had learned a simple enjoyment of simple pleasures, a patient
constancy under heavy trials, heartfelt devotion to the service of
God, and an unwavering faith in the life to come.
* * * * *
The contents of the Poem are, or may be, distributed into a Prologue,
Four Acts or Sections, and an Epilogue.
In the Prologue (chap. i., vv. 1-11), Coheleth states the Problem to
be solved.
In the First Section (chap. i., ver. 12--chap. ii., ver. 26), he
depicts the endeavour to solve it by seeking the Chief Good in Wisdom
and in Pleasure.
In the Second Section (chap. iii., ver. 1--chap. v., ver. 20), the
Quest is pursued in Traffic and Political Life.
In the Third Section (chap. vi., ver. 1--chap. viii., ver. 15), the
Quest is carried into Wealth and the Golden Mean.
In the Fourth Section (chap. viii., ver. 16--chap. xii., ver. 7), the
Quest is achieved, and the Chief Good found to consist in a tranquil
and cheerful enjoyment of the present, combined with a cordial faith
in the future, life.
And in the Epilogue (chap. xii., vv. 8-14) he summarises and
emphatically repeats this solution of the Problem.
* * * * *