It is well known that after Solomon had succeeded his father David as
ruler over Israel he had a vision wherein the Lord gave him the choice
between riches and wisdom, and that the youthful monarch gave wisdom
the preference. In recognition of this he was not alone endowed with
an understanding heart, but was given the means of acquiring great
wealth, such as enabled him to build the most gorgeous of temples and
the most sumptuous of palaces. The secret of Solomon's power was his
possession of the Omnipotent Name engraved on his signet-ring, the use
of which he was to learn by an accident.
The first great problem Solomon was called upon to solve was how to
build God's Temple in compliance with the unaccountable injunction not
to employ iron implements in cutting, fitting or smoothing the
materials of the sacred edifice. This prohibition implied the
existence of a rock-splitting instrument of which neither the King nor
his wisest counselors had any knowledge. Eldad the lonely dweller of
the sacred caves, the reader of the stars, the wanderer of the desert,
the recorder of traditions, Eldad, who at the age of one hundred and
nineteen years had no wrinkle on his face, preserving his faculties in
all their strength by means of the occult sciences, this wizard who
was the engraver of the Ineffable Name on the King's ring, was
summoned to appear before His Majesty to answer this question:
"Thou knowest, O, Eldad, that I am to build the House of God with
materials unprepared by the use of any iron implement; no doubt
Providence has provided the means for the raising of His Sanctuary; my
advisers have failed to give me light on the mystery; should it be
beyond thy power to enlighten me on this matter, I shall not know
whither to turn for the solution of the difficulty," spoke the King.
To whom Eldad replied: "Know, O King, that in the beginning of things,
as creation was nearing its completion, before the sun of the sixth
day had withdrawn his last mellow beam from the earth, fourteen
additional wonders were called into being, things which the
foreknowledge of the All-knowing destined to play a part in this
nether world. They are, the mouth of the earth that swallowed Korah
and his rebellious followers; the mouth of the fountain known as
Miriam's Well, the unfailing spring whose flow accompanied Israel
through the desert, joining in the hymn of praise; the mouth of the
brute that spoke to Balaam, after the heathen prophet had beaten it
three times, he not having seen the angel that deterred it from
advancing; the multicolored rainbow which symbolizes God's mercy to
frail man; the manna, Israel's food for forty years; the staff
wherewith Moses performed all his miracles; the two sapphires out of
which the tablets of the Law were cut; the gems that spelt the Ten
Commandments; the letters of the alphabet; the sepulchre of Moses
never seen by a mortal eye; the ram destined to be the substitute of
Isaac when on the point of being sacrificed; the first pair of tongs,
without which no iron could ever be forged; the spirits, both good and
evil, the Sabbath having begun before bodies could be formed for some
souls, thus left forever disembodied; and the _Shamir_, a worm not
larger than a grain of barley, but stronger than rock, which it splits
by the mere touch. The _Shamir_, O, King, is the only might in
creation to do the work in accordance with the divine behest. Those
priceless gems of which the tablets and the letters thereon are cut
have been fashioned by the _Shamir_."
"That _Shamir_ shall be in my power, O, Eldad, it being there for the
building of God's house, as it was there to materialize His immutable
Word. But tell me who on earth claims possession of that wonderful
creature? Is it to be had by trade, purchase, strategy, or force?"
cried the King, deeply agitated.
"King, beyond what I have told thee my knowledge goes not. The abyss
says: It is not in me, and the ocean says: I own it not. Hitherto the
_Shamir_ has been beyond the reach of human eye. Whether it can be
had, the future will tell. Here my wisdom ends," concluded the hoary
wizard, withdrawing from the royal presence. It was late in the
evening when the King retired to a restless bed. Light and fitful as
were his slumbers, his mind was haunted by weird visions of desolate
scenes, cliffs infested with fierce carrion birds, and chasms teeming
with venomous reptiles. The first blush of the morning found the
monarch on one of his gilded balconies from which he surveyed the
floral glories of his exuberant gardens, inhaling the odoriferous
breezes of the peaceful morrow. Nature stood in her loveliness, and
animate creation seemed to breathe peace. Suddenly there was a scream
of pain in one of the towering clusters of green, and the next instant
two specimens of the feathered tribes dropped at the feet of the King.
In the talons of a carnivorous fowl was closed the tender wing of a
trembling dove as white as snow. Moved by the impulse of pity, the
King had his strong grip on the neck of the obscene bird of prey,
relieving the other, but not before the victim's wing was broken.
Great as was the anger of the King to see the poor dove bleeding and
helpless, his astonishment was greater at the instantaneous
transformation of the ferocious fowl in his grasp; fowl no more but
demon, black and mighty, swelling to enormous proportions, and
beseeching the royal captor to set him free.--"Whatever thou biddest
me I will do, O, master, the ring on thy finger giving thee power over
Ashmodai and his legions, to which I belong doing service as
commanded," stated the dark agent submissively.
"And what cause underlies thy vicious onslaught against so pure a
creature as this dove?" asked Solomon, the revelation breaking on him
that his signet-ring invested him with a power akin to omnipotence.
"A symbol of purity, the dove comes under the ban of us who are of
Ashmodai's dark legion,"[8] explained the fiend with unreserved
candor.
[8] Talmudic angelology assigns to Ashmodai the inferior rank
of presiding over the evil demons under the rule of Samaël
(דשידאי רבא מלכא אשמדאי); while Matatron is the recognized chief
of the infinite hosts teeming throughout the universe, holding
at the same time the office of benign intercession between man
and Supreme Grace, and Synadalphon is the next in power, standing
on earth with his head reaching to the highest cherubim (אחד מלאג
שמו סנדלפין החיות אצל מגיע וראשו בארץ עומד). Like Samaël and Lilith,
Ashmodai impersonates evil in a variety of manifestations.
Neither Dumah, the prince of the winds and the custodian of
the dead, nor Rohab, the lord of the ocean, are to be degraded
to the rank of Ashmodai who dwells in the clouds but depends for
his sustenance on what the earth produces. It is to be remarked,
however, that the Rabbis take the dark and the bright powers to
represent physical forces co-existent with creation (קב״ה כשבקש
.השרת מלאכי של כת ברא העולם לבראות) This idea is sustained by the
additional assertion that the creative energy is incessant,
Omnipotence calling forth daily new ministers to carry out His
inscrutable designs. (מפי שיצא דיבור מכל ,דינור בנהר השרת מלאכי נבראין
.מלאך נברא קב״ה)
"Thou shalt not go hence before I learn of thee who treasures the
_Shamir_," said Solomon firmly, assuming the demon to know something
about it.
"What art thou seeking of me, O, master, who am one of inferior rank
bending to the will of our chief Ashmodai, the mighty spirit of this
world? Him thou art to question, because he is the one to satisfy thy
demand," replied the demon. "Describe his retreat to me and its
approaches, and thou shalt go free," commanded the son of David.
"He is to be found where no creature of flesh and blood can long
endure; it is not heaven; neither is it earth; in the heart of the
Orient, on the highest peak of the highest mountain range, a hollow
summit crowned with eternal snow, holding under seal before a recess
of frozen crystal the purest spring under the heaven to give him
drink, that is Ashmodai's retreat. Hither he descends from his
cloud-vested realm, scans the seal to assure himself that no impurity
has polluted his delicious beverage, when, having quenched his thirst,
he re-seals the fountain, gives audience to his court, who flock
hither to receive their orders, and, refreshed by slumber, re-ascends
to control the elements and survey the work of his active host," was
the information, which insured the demon's release.
In earnest consultation with his general Benaiah, Solomon matured the
plan for the attack of Ashmodai's retreat, and ere long a
well-equipped expedition of a few picked men headed by that undaunted
warrior, departed secretly. The haunt of the demoniac chief was not
only far to the south-east of the Holy Land, but it was so located
that in order to approach it the adventurers had to cross deserts,
traverse pestiferous swamps infested with scorpions and dragons, ford
wild rivers, and bridge over chasms, only to see themselves in a
labyrinth of stupendous rocks, supermounted by a chain of sky-towering
peaks lost in dense fogs. Benaiah's eagle eye swept the clouded
outlines of the snow-capped heights, trying in vain to locate the spot
to be invaded. The impenetrable curtain of shifting fogs precluded
accurate observation, and for once the dashing general felt that he
was more in need of daring and of patience than of strategy. Retiring
with his men to a cave at the base of the mountain, Benaiah took a
position which commanded the loftiest point of the summit, hoping that
something would occur to betray the object of his quest. Benaiah was
struck by the contrast of the frowning mountain-crest on one hand,
and the sun's pure effulgence on the other. As he had his eyes riveted
on the broken summit, the dense mass of fog darkened perceptibly. A
noise as of a boisterous sea repelled by a rocky shore was the
precursor of a tempest and an earthquake which convulsed the entire
region within and without, thunder and lightning adding to the uproar.
The eternal snows on the crest rose pulverized by the fury of a
chaotic storm,--a hurricane intermixed with flashes of red fire,--the
whole reducing itself within a few seconds to a funnel-shaped
whirlwind, revolving with furious speed, its pivot centred in a hollow
betwixt mighty cliffs, rendered visible by the convulsive phenomenon.
Benaiah knew what it meant, and he was confirmed in his assumption
that Ashmodai was descending by observing the same disturbance a few
hours later when the demon re-ascended to his airy empire.
[Illustration: "Like a thunderbolt striking to the centre of a
hurricane, the demon shot down."
Page 173.]
Like a good strategist, the general took a little time to study the
situation. The ascent of the mountain had to be made with great
care, and the proceedings of the chief demon observed from as near a
station as was compatible with safety. The climbing was attended with
much toil and great danger, but the point was reached, the ground
surveyed, and a hiding place secured in a recess barred by a wall of
solid ice. Here everything was held in readiness for the next step.
If Ashmodai's descent startled the adventurers from a distance,
nearness to the spot of his landing filled them with dismay, the
atmospheric and subterranean agitation threatening to sweep them out
of their hiding place. Like a thunderbolt striking to the centre of a
hurricane, the demon shot down, unsealed his well, plunged his lips in
the beryl fluid, drawing up a great quantity, and then sealed it up
again. He was hardly ready when the table-land around him was thick
with files of demons, who arrived to report what had been
accomplished, and to take orders for new tasks. They were all chiefs,
of various ranks, each one having legions to carry out his behests.
From the reports and the schemes discussed it was clear that they
represented three kinds of spirits as to their relation to
mankind--of hostility, friendliness, and neutrality. There was a
division of labor,--hostile, benevolent, and neutral.
It is impossible to say how the daring band of interlopers would have
fared at the hands of the terrible chief and his demonic army had not
Benaiah possessed the Omnipotent Name to shield him from discovery. As
matters stood the demons, unconscious of any unwelcome presence,
departed, leaving Ashmodai to take his accustomed slumber, after which
he darted up like a flash, with the phenomenal accompaniment of
elemental disturbance as before. Now came Benaiah's opportunity.
Without touching the seal on the cover of the well, the contents were
drawn out through a hole skilfully bored beneath the surface of the
liquid. This done, the hole was carefully closed, and another one was
bored on the opposite side at a higher level, through which wine was
poured to fill the emptied well. With every trace removed to avoid
suspicion, and every detail ready for the emergency, Benaiah waited
patiently for the next day when everything passed off as before,
except the astonishment of the dreaded power when he found that his
well contained wine instead of water. Doomed by destiny to fall into
the trap set for him, and urged by a parching thirst, Ashmodai took
but little time to consider the advisability of drinking the
intoxicating beverage, balancing Scriptural texts _pro_ and _con_, and
soon deciding to try its effect on his semi-ethereal nature. This was
just what Solomon and his general had counted on. Ashmodai had
scarcely dismissed his military Council when the wine began to do its
work; he felt as he had never felt before, and he discussed with
himself the singular mood into which he found himself plunged, in what
way he could not account for, the sensation being wholly new in his
superhuman experience. Sleep was on him, and there he lay, stretched
out as helpless as a senseless block. Benaiah was at hand with a chain
rendered resistless by the Omnipotent Name engraved upon its links.
Slipping it around the waist and the neck of the prince of demons, his
potency was disposed of. Ashmodai's consternation when awakened words
cannot describe. A roar of rage darkened all nature, shook the
mountains to their foundation, and horrified all his legions who fled
to hide themselves in the deepest chasms, even in the bowels of the
earth and under the waters of the sea. For a moment Benaiah lost his
speech, while his companions fell prostrate on the ground. The demon
assumed every shape of horror to overawe the enemies of his freedom.
In a few moments he gave himself the deterring shapes of all that is
monstrous and deadly in nature, from the enraged tiger to the hissing
serpent whose bite is death; all in vain.--"In the Name of the Most
High, I, Benaiah, chief of King Solomon's army, do herewith command
thee, Ashmodai, mighty Prince of genii, to follow me to the seat of
the wisest King, who needs thy aid to build the Temple of God."
The conjuration conquered all resistance, and the demon was led off
disarmed and humiliated. Realizing the hopelessness of gaining
anything by violence, Ashmodai feigned submissiveness, assumed the
form and manner of a most polished and affable courtier, and, ushered
into the presence of the King, charmed His Majesty by discourse of
things far above the comprehension of ordinary men.
"Thou art to deliver to me the _Shamir_ so that God's House be built
without the use of iron implements," said Solomon to Ashmodai.
"The _Shamir_ is not in my keeping, great King; the spirit of the
ocean has entrusted it to the fowl Awza that it be preserved forever
in a state of perfection," replied Ashmodai, adding, "and no man can
come near that bird."
"Tell me where Awza breeds her young," commanded the King.
"South of the great desert there is a mountain with a towering cliff
and walls so steep and smooth that a spider has difficulty to climb
it. On the top of that rock is the nest of Awza, a fowl with claws of
steel and eyes of fire, swift as the swallow, larger than the vulture,
and fiercer than the eagle," answered the demon.
Again Benaiah was placed at the head of an expedition, and many were
the hardships before the solitary pile rose before the eyes of the
indomitable general. There was neither a bird to be seen nor a nest.
The head of the precipitous rock was so high above the clouds that
there seemed no possibility of scaling it. But Benaiah was full of
resources and had anticipated the difficulty by bringing with him a
pair of pigeons. Having left a man with the female bird this side of
the mountain, the general made a detour for the opposite side with the
male, tied a cord to his foot, and allowed him to rise. Guided by his
instinct, the pigeon soon soared above the rock, descending to join
his mate. This accomplished, a heavier cord was trailed over, followed
by a still heavier rope strong enough to lift a man. This man was
Benaiah who, in the dark of night, was hauled up by his attendants.
Awza was thus to be circumvented.
Great was the general's joy when he found himself before the nest
occupied by its fledglings, Awza being happily away in search for
food. A transparent stone is laid securely over the nest. Awza
arrives, finds her fledglings imprisoned, hungry, and crying. With
motherly tenderness she hurries to split the stone by applying the
_Shamir_. Benaiah's great chance is come. From behind a bowlder he
bursts forth and frightens the bird; she drops the invaluable worm.
Benaiah pounces upon it like an eagle. The male bird is soon on the
spot. A desperate struggle ensues between the enraged birds and the
daring Benaiah. He is armed against iron claws, and is not deterred by
fiery eyes. He has the trophy and he holds it, placing it in due time
at the feet of his master, to the great surprise of Ashmodai. Thus is
the building of God's Temple proceeded with, the _Shamir_ splitting
and fitting the materials.
Solomon's thirst for wisdom grew with his growing consciousness of the
painful limitations as regards its acquisition by man, and Ashmodai
availed himself of the King's avidity for knowledge in the hope of
throwing him off his guard. He taught him the secrets of the vegetable
and mineral kingdoms, and gave him the clue to intercourse with animal
creation, including the mind-reading faculty. As a final achievement
he suggested the weaving of a prodigious air-float large enough to
transport the King on his throne, an army fully equipped, and a host
of spirits. On this air-ship, sixty miles square, Solomon, ever
accompanied by Ashmodai, traversed great distances, soaring above the
clouds, higher than the eagle, and looking down on earth like a god.
Woven by genii of the most subtile essences of nature, the texture of
that air-island was of azurean translucency, green-blue in color,
floating in the sun's radiance like a rippled sea bathed in gold.
But the marvel of the marvelous equipage was its circular pavilion
vast in extent and fashioned of rainbow-tints, which photographed,
enormously magnified, whatever came within the range of the eye that
controlled its course, laying bare the mysteries of land and ocean,
and revealing the multifarious activities of the spirit-world under
the rule of Ashmodai. Here Solomon's wonder-throne, ascended by seven
steps, each one guarded by a pair of magnificent animals chosen from
the respective species of the lion, the elephant, the tiger, the bear,
the serpent, the antelope, and the eagle, stood on a dais, lofty and
brilliant, eclipsed only by the monarch's crown which rivaled the sun
in splendor. Solomon began to believe that he was really more than
human, and Ashmodai lost no chance to swell the autocrat's overbearing
vanity. Solomon was so delighted with his triumph over the chief of
demons and the deep secrets he had wrested from him, that he
indefinitely deferred setting him free long after the Temple had been
dedicated with grand ceremony, and, thanks to rock-bursting _Shamir_,
cargoes of gold were pouring into the royal treasury.
One early morning the sovereign of the richest kingdom upon earth bade
the winds raise and waft his imponderable encampment toward the rising
day, he being enthroned in his pavilion with Ashmodai at his feet. Up
soared the magic float, lighter than air, transparent as ether, and
stronger than adamant, hurrying eastward as an undulating firmament,
suffused with purple and gold. The soundless vast above, coupled with
the radiant flood that broke from the East, and the amazing
kaleidoscope of animal and spirit life startlingly reflected by the
walls of the glowing pavilion, overawed the mind of the most daring
of kings, who exclaimed: "How great the all-powerful God, in whose
infinity we are not more than an atom in the universe of matter!"
"Great King, thy head is the microcosm of the immensity whose
contemplation overpowers thee. The heavens hide nothing which man
cannot own if he but knew how," said Ashmodai with a pull at his
chain.
"Thou art speaking riddles, potent spirit. Give me certainty that my
grave is not the end, and thy chains shall be broken," cried Solomon.
"King, disembodied thou art my like, spirit of the everlasting Source,
unchanged by change, but for the time dimmed, because engrossed with
what is unethereal here. Yet even in thy mortal coil I can give thee,
if restored to liberty, by virtue of thy signet-ring, a glimpse of
things above thy highest dreams, provided thou wilt give me leave to
stimulate thy spiritual essence for the transmutation by harmony such
as, at thy bidding, I can cause my spirits to produce," promised
Ashmodai.
"Then let the air vibrate with melody such as will fit my grosser
substance for thy suggested change," commanded Solomon, thoughtlessly.
At this the atmosphere trembles with the voices of a myriad chorus,
throwing the King into an ecstasy of delight, ravishing his soul and
causing his tears to flow. In his ecstatic transport the monarch bids
Ashmodai to come within the reach of his hand; a touch breaks the
chains of the wily demon, another movement of the hand delivers to him
the signet-ring--and then--the symphony sounds like the hissing of
twenty thousand serpents, night swallows the rays of the sun, a burst
as of a hundred batteries shakes the firmament, a tremendous pillar of
lurid flame shoots up into the height of azure, from its core darts
forth a bundle and vanishes beyond the sea;--it is Solomon whom, by
the might of his regained breath, Ashmodai has hurled to the end of
earth,[9] allowing him to fall unhurt; the ring the demon drops into
the deep. All this is the work of a moment, after which the atmosphere
is clear and bright, the hissing ceases, and Solomon is on his
throne,--that is it is Ashmodai in the guise of Solomon robed in
royalty to mock the power of the castaway autocrat.
[9] The old version of the Talmud has it thus: "Solomon sent
Benaiah to bring him the Shamir from Ashmodai, and he threw
him out of his kingdom." מאשמדאי השמיר לו להביא לבניהו שלך שלמה
ממלכותו והשליכו
Who could be wise enough to unmask the fraudulent usurper? Who would
blame a spirit for avenging an outrageous humiliation? The court was
informed that the chief of demons had escaped, and everything went on
as before, including the tender attention due to the inmates of the
royal harem.
Poor Solomon picked himself up in a far distant land, astonished and
confused. His memory failed him; he stood transformed in face and
form, and only darkly remembered that he had been a king somewhere.
From his situation he could well infer that he had had some foolish
dream of pomp and lordship. In reality he was a homeless beggar,
shattered in health and unsound in mind. Starvation forced him to beg
for bread, and vagabonds were his bed-fellows in the wretched
retreats open to the outcasts of humanity. His hours were divided
between waking and dreaming; sane moments were followed by invasions
of melancholy. Sometimes he doubted that his name was Solomon, that
the world around him was real. A hard time was in store for the
befooled wise man. Slowly the faculty of memory returned, and the
singular circumstances which placed him where he found himself rose
clearly before his recollection.
However, the knowledge of things immaterial which Solomon had acquired
by his intimate intercourse with Ashmodai afforded him some help and
comfort during his long wanderings from place to place,--unhonored,
often the target of ridicule to such as heard him descant on his
Solomonic pretensions. Great was his pain on hearing one day a strange
traveller speak of the real Solomon's wisdom, his glorious rule, and
the uncounted wealth that reached him by land and sea. "Can it be that
I am mad? If Solomon reigns in Jerusalem, who am I?" asked of himself
the confounded beggar king, and prayed humbly that he might be
enlightened as to the nature of his condition. His pride was broken.
One late afternoon the royal wayfarer arrived, tired and hungry,
before the gate of an inhospitable city. At first the unfriendly
inhabitants denied him admission, but on hearing him claim the title
of Solomon the Wise, they allowed his majesty to enter, convinced that
they had a madman before them. Beyond this their hospitality did not
extend. With a crust of bread as his supper, the unpitied monarch
found no softer couch than the turf of a roofless enclosure, with many
animals as his companions. The night was cold, and the situation
tormenting for a starved man who had nothing wherewith to cover
himself. After a few hours of restless slumber, Solomon felt his limbs
so badly cramped that he was obliged to rise and walk to keep his
blood in circulation. In the dimness of a clouded moon Solomon came
near an old mare full of bruises, and so emaciated that one had no
difficulty in counting her ribs. Solomon's experience rendered him
accessible to sympathy with life in misery, and he derived sad
consolation from the sight of other creatures who were even more
wretched than he. He reflected that man is the source of great
torments and wretchedness here below in inflicting pain on creatures
entrusted him by a kind Providence.
It was about midnight when the royal beggar rose again to renew his
walk, finding it impossible to drown his worry in oblivious sleep. The
moon shone brightly, and the deep silence held the weird landscape in
magic repose, forming a strong contrast with the agitation suppressed
in the king's bosom. Presently familiar notes fell on Solomon's ear;
it was the speech of the ill-fated mare, who spoke words of sorrow to
her inexperienced family, giving them her maternal advice, now that
her end was near. With bated breath the man listened to the story of a
life-long agony, recited by a creature of the noblest species under
human control.
"Yes, I have often been whipped and kicked by my cruel master. Ah,
hunger, too, and thirst,--the heat by day and the cold by night, I
endured; toiling, toiling under the rod, and now that I am old he has
turned me out that I perish unsheltered, unfed. Too weak am I to
drive off the flies which torture me, and death will not come. Once I
was led to believe that we horses had an advantage over the animals
that are slaughtered for food. The sight of a victim's blood shed by
the carnivorous lust of man made me shudder. I have seen the head of
the fowl twisted off, have seen lambs swim in their blood, have seen
the calf taken for slaughter from the side of her dam who rent the air
with lamentation, have seen cattle felled by the deadly club in the
hand of gluttonous man. And have I not, in my younger days, been used
in the chase? Mounted on me, my master, in company of his like,
thought it great sport to unleash a pack of bloody hounds in pursuit
of a frightened hare, fox, or deer. Hunted down, the agonized
creatures fell, to be torn to pieces. Man is our devil, helpless, dumb
animals that we are. Enough is there in nature to glut his hunger. The
hen supplies him with her eggs, the cow with her milk and with butter
and cheese, and the lamb with its wool; while we carry him and his
burdens, multiply his strength in battle, and gratify his love of
pomp and pleasure. Honey, fruits, mushrooms, and a variety of grains
and vegetables should protect animate creation from his deathful
greed."
"There will be a dead fellow to-morrow," said a lusty colt made hot by
his dam's tale of woe. "That master of thine will not long be master
of mine; one kick of my hind legs will do for him; let him try it with
me; he won't whip me a second time."
"Child, never try it, if thou lovest me," cried the intelligent, but
much-abused mare. "A vicious horse, as they brand one who resents
abuse, is sure to get his double share of torture; I have tried it and
had the worst of it. Kick once your master and his vengeance will take
years to bleed you to death."
"But I won't stand it. I will kick right and left, break windows,
bones, vehicles, break whatever comes in my way, and break myself if
it must be. They will be kept busy watching my legs; I won't stand
it," answered the colt determinedly.
"Thou mayest as well kick against a rock and have thy hind legs
broken, or throw thyself into a millpond and be drowned, as seek
revenge by hurting thy master. We are not unavenged, however. Nature,
our common mother, does not allow her offenders to go unpunished. If
man would simply be content to live on what the animal and vegetable
kingdoms freely give him, he would be a much happier, tamer, healthier
and nobler being. Chase and slaughter create that ferocious temper
which revels in bloodshed, so that his own kindred bleed, victims of
his atrocity. Child, I, too, have revolted in my time. Exasperated by
the cuts of a whip in the hand of a miscreant, I once made a wild
break for deliverance, fled madly through the street, dashed against
everything in my way,--dashed against a throng of men, women and
children, who tried vainly to escape,--did all the harm I could, and
landed bruised and breathless among the terrified children in an open
schoolyard, killing one and hurting others. Thereafter I was treated
as the savage beast, was kicked in and out of time, my legs being
fettered and my head held fast by a chain tied to the wall. When
employed, the bit in my mouth was cruelly tight; and that was all I
gained. A higher will must have decreed this to be our lot," concluded
the starving mare, lowering her head mournfully.
Solomon, whom the equine group had not noticed, approached and
astonished them by addressing them in the language they so well
understood. The luckless mare raised her head, and her glazed eyes
flashed as the soft voice of the king uttered this:
"Thou art right, Oh, noble creature, in charging thy master with
unkindness and ingratitude toward thy high-spirited race that has
rendered him invaluable service. Yea, man is as yet a child and a
slave of habit, but will in due time rise to an understanding of his
duties toward the myriad lives around him, not created for wanton
abuse or ruthless destruction. Indeed, he pays dearly for the
gratification of his lower instincts, the benign Creator having meant
him to be prompted by the gentler, deeper, sweeter qualities of his
being. The day will come when he will shudder at the idea of
sustaining his life by the immolation of others, when the flesh-eater
will be seen in the same light as the cannibal.--My name is Solomon,
and in my kingdom they called me The Wise, but my wisdom fails to
enlighten me why things are as they are when they could be so much
better. Believe me, man has tortures of body and soul, and has, like
you, his devil to plague and circumvent him. Holy Writ contains
beautiful words in praise of the horse, he, armed with thunder, nobler
than the lion, fearless as the eagle, graceful as the zebra, strong as
the wave, quick as the wind, the pride of the warrior, the pleasure of
the prince, the seat of the king. Once restored to power, I will
remember the burden of thy grievance, faithful mare, and thy race will
be benefited as far as my will shall prevail."
The horses were pleased with the sympathetic words of their
distinguished friend, and the ambitious colt offered to carry him as
far as he wished. Solomon had plenty of leisure to explain the
difficulty into which he had been plunged by the wiles of Ashmodai,
and that he was sure of restoration the moment he could enter the
gates of his beloved Jerusalem.
"May thy wisdom, thy kindness and thy kingdom spread far and wide,
Oh, King! so that my helpless offsprings be spared the torments that I
have endured during the length of my days!" prayed the mare, with a
tremor which betrayed extreme weakness. The next instant saw the poor
brute tremble, stagger, fall and expire.
If Solomon had counted on an easy triumph over his formidable
adversary, his arrival at Jerusalem, after years of untold hardships
and trials, undeceived him. The city showed every indication of great
prosperity; the kingdom stood firmly established, and the brilliance
of the royal Court had no rival in the gorgeous Orient. Embassies came
to pay the homage of princedoms and empires near and far, bringing
presents of rare animals, gold, costly products, and precious stones,
and they departed overawed by the superhuman wisdom of Israel's mighty
ruler, who amazed the ambassadors not alone by addressing each one in
his native language but by showing a minute acquaintance with their
secret matters of state, and by reading their hidden thoughts. The
envoys reported to their sovereigns that a demi-god had come to reign
over an earthly kingdom.
For a shabby mendicant to overthrow a power of Ashmodai's devices and
resources was indeed a business to make even a Solomon despair of
success.
Having entered the city, the beggar-king sought the haunts of the
paupers without breathing a syllable as to his identity, lest Ashmodai
be alarmed by his presence, which was a circumstance to be feared.
Solomon the beggar knew that he looked so unlike Solomon the Wise that
he long hesitated to approach his whilom faithful Benaiah, who,
innocent of the demon's fraud, continued as dashing and as loyal as
ever before. The attempt at an interview resulted in the general's
throwing a silver coin to get rid of the importunate beggar, who dared
accost him as though he was his equal. In his despondency Solomon
turned his back on his endeared capital, roamed about for many days
distracted with grief, until, having caught sight of the sea, he fell
prostrate on the shore, prayed in great humility, wept and fell
asleep. He had a dream in which Eldad, who had died during his
wanderings, appeared to him in the guise of an angler, unloosening a
large fish from his hook which he presented to the dreamer. A scream
in the air startled Solomon from his sleep, and a slap on his cheek by
some cold thing brought him to his feet. Before him lay a fish in
contortions, above him two birds were soaring, one higher than the
other, who, in their fight for the prey, evidently had allowed it to
drop on the sleeper's face. Parched with thirst and stung by hunger,
Solomon tore the fish open, when, lo! the ring, Eldad's gift, the
all-controlling charm, was there. No sooner was it on the King's
finger than an appalling earthquake shook the shore, while from the
heart of God's city burst a prodigious pillar of smoke and flame,
losing itself in the deep azure. Useless to add that this was the
trail of Ashmodai's precipitous flight, who, immediately apprised of
his adversary's triumph, fled as fast as he could, spreading
consternation as he went.
Solomon by this time had enough experience with the chief of demons to
last him for the rest of his life; yet nothing else but Ashmodai's
subsequent vengeance was the cause of his falling from grace in after
years, so that the wisest of ancient kings not alone forfeited the
power vested in the Omnipotent Name, but closed a glorious career so
ingloriously that he died an object of pity to some of his subjects
and of hatred to the rest. Having secured the means of building the
Temple without the aid of ordinary implements, he would have acted
wisely in dismissing the chief of invisible hosts instead of detaining
him unjustly, and preying into mysteries not intended for man.
Solomon's aspiration to be more than human, while it gratified his
vanity, brought on eventually his ruin, while his mind was never at
ease, even under the constant guardianship of the "Heroic Sixty," his
close bodyguard.
Note.--"We also tried Solomon, and placed on his throne a
counterfeit body; afterward he turned unto God and said, O
Lord, forgive me, and give me a kingdom which may not be
obtained by any after me; for thou art the bestower of
kingdoms. And we made the wind subject to him; it ran gently
at his command whithersoever he directed, and we also put the
demons in subjection under him, and among them such as were
every way skilled in building, and in diving for pearls."
(Koran, Surah 38.)
The Talmudic version of Solomon's temporary dethronement runs
thus:--Conscious of the fact that the stability of his
kingdom depended on the signet on his finger, Solomon had but
one trusty concubine named Amina whom he entrusted with the
invaluable jewel during moments when the body's natural
functions rendered its removal obligatory, it bearing the
ineffable Name. One day Sakhar, a malicious demon, appeared
to Amina in the shape of Solomon, possessed himself of the
ring, usurped the throne, transformed or deformed the real
monarch, and ruled the land to suit himself, altering the
laws, and doing all the mischief a devil is capable of doing.
In the meantime Solomon, distracted by the incident, and
wholly unknown to his court, wandered about, depending on
alms for subsistence. This misadventure of the wise king was
brought about by an image of himself made for worship at his
order by another devil to comfort his favorite wife, Jerada,
the beautiful princess of Sidon, whose father had fallen
during the siege of that city by Solomon's army. As soon as
the worship of the image ceased, the devil fled the palace
and threw the signet into the sea. A fish swallowed the
thaumaturgic ring, was caught, and providentially fell into
Solomon's hand, thus possessing him of the omnipotent charm
which enabled him to recover his kingdom. As to Sakhar, he
was caught, a stone was tied around his neck, and he was
ruthlessly thrown into the lake of Tiberias. Sakhar standing
for the Hebrew noun _sheker_--falsehood, and Amina for
_emunah_,--faith or firmness, the deeper sense of the
allegory needs no further elucidation. Among the most
familiar legends which cluster around Solomon's rule is that
of his green carpet woven of silk and of a magnitude
sufficiently ample not alone to hold his throne, but an army
of men to his right hand and a host of spirits to his left.
At the king's command the winds transported the entire
equipment, slow or fast, according to his majesty's pleasure,
while the royal head was shaded by an enormous flock of birds
on the wing. Countenance is given to this fable in the
Koran,--"And his armies were gathered together unto Solomon,
consisting of genii, and men, and birds." (Surah, 27.)