CHAPTER IX

The Book of Wisdom

(The Wisdom of Solomon)

[LITERATURE.—Grimm, _Das Buch der Weisheit erklärt_ (1860); Montefiore, _The Wisdom of Solomon_ (1887); Farrar, in Wace, I, pp. 403-534; Deane, _The Book of Wisdom_ ... (1881); Menzel, _Der griechische Einfluss auf Prediger und Weisheit Salomos_, pp. 39-70 (1889); Bois, _Essai sur les origines de la philosophie judéo-alexandrine_ (1890); Schürer, II, iii. pp. 230-237, German ed., pp. 505-512; Siegfried, in Kautzsch, I, pp. 476-507; Linke, _Samarien und seine Propheten_, pp. 119-144 (1903); Stevenson, _Wisdom and Jewish Apocryphal Writings_ (1903); M. Friedländer, _Griechische Philosophie im Alten Testamente_, pp. 182-208 (1904); Zeller, _Outlines of Greek Philosophy_ (1909); Gregg, _The Wisdom of Solomon_ (1909); Holmes, in Charles, I, pp. 518-568; Goodrick, _The Book of Wisdom_ (1913). See also the articles by Freudenthal, in “The Jewish Quarterly Review,” III, pp. 722-753 (1891), Siegfried, in Hastings’ _Dict. of the Bible_, and Toy, in the _Encycl. Bibl._]

I. THE TITLE AND AUTHORSHIP OF THE BOOK

The title “The Wisdom of Solomon” in the English Versions comes from the Greek manuscripts,[468] the three oldest of which have this exact title, while, in one form or another, they _all_ have it. But the Old Latin Version has only “The Book of Wisdom,” without any mention of Solomon; and the Syriac Version, while ascribing it to Solomon, adds, “of which there is a doubt; whether another wise man of the Hebrews wrote it in a prophetic spirit, putting it in the name of Solomon, and it was received.”[469] Although some of the early Latin Fathers believed that the book was the work of Solomon, they formed the exceptions; it is obvious that it cannot have been written by him, as we shall see as we proceed. But it may well be asked why it should have been ascribed to Solomon; the usual and obvious answer that to the Jews Solomon was the wisdom-writer _par excellence_, and that therefore anyone desiring to commend a book on wisdom would naturally choose this name as a pseudonym in preference to any other, is doubtless correct in a general way; but Plumptre has suggested a stronger reason; believing that the book was written in antagonism to Ecclesiastes,[470] he says: “Let us remember in what light it [i.e. Ecclesiastes] must have presented itself to him [i.e. the writer of Wisdom]. It had not ... the claim which comes from the reverence due to the authority of a remote antiquity or an unquestioned acceptance. He must have known that it had not been received as canonical without serious opposition, that the strictest school of the Pharisees had been against its reception, that it had seemed to them tainted with the heresy of Epicuræanism and Sadduceeism. If it was interpreted then as it has often been interpreted since, it may have seemed to him to sanction a lawless sensuality, to fall in with the thoughts of those who said, ‘let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die,’ and to throw doubt, if not denial, on the soul’s immortality. Was this, he seems to have asked himself, the true ideal of wisdom? Was it not his duty to bring before men another Solomon than that whose experience seemed to end in materialism and pessimism, in the scepticism of an endless doubt? And so he, too, adopts without any hesitation the form of personated authorship.”[471] This puts the matter on a higher plane altogether. That the writer of our book had what he considered to be the erroneous teaching of Ecclesiastes in mind will be clear to any one who reads Wisdom ii. 1-9 in conjunction with the following passages from Ecclesiastes:[472]

Wisdom ii. 1 with Ecclesiastes ii. 23, v. 1. ” ii. 2 ” ” iii. 19, cp. ix. ii. ” ii. 3 ” ” xii. 7. ” ii. 4 ” ” i. 11, ii. 16, ix. 5, ii. 11. ” ii. 5 ” ” vi. 12, viii. 8. ” ii. 6 ” ” ii. 24. ” ii. 7 ” ” ix. 7. ” ii. 8 ” ” ix. 8. ” ii. 9 ” ” iii. 22, v. 18, ix. 8.

In Wisdom ii. 1 ff. (“For they said within themselves, reasoning not aright ...”) the writer is describing the tenets of the ungodly; and what he says agrees not only in substance, but often even verbally, with the corresponding passages in Ecclesiastes.

Bearing Plumptre’s words in mind, therefore, and remembering what has been said above[473] regarding the estimate of the function and importance of authorship among Easterns of earlier times, we should not be justified in seeing any fraudulent intention on the part of our author in putting the name of Solomon to the title of his book.

As to the personality of the author[474] but very few _data_ are to be gathered from the book; he must in all probability have been a Jew (cp. xii. 22), but a Hellenistic Jew, yet loyal to the Law[475] (xviii. 4), who lived and wrote in Egypt (see xii. 23 ff., xv. 18, 19, xvi. 1, 9, where reference is made to Egyptian animal-worship); his Jewish feeling is evidenced throughout the book; that he was domiciled in Alexandria is highly probable, for this was the centre of Jewish-Hellenistic culture. As Gregg well points out, the author “makes no effort to disguise his sympathy with Hellenic thought. He is a Euhemerist in his account of the origin of idol-worship (xiv.); he is a Platonist in his sense of the beauty of the world, and in his argument that its beauty points to a supreme First Cause. He draws on Plato for his doctrine of pre-existing matter (xi. 17), of the pre-existence of the soul (viii. 19), and of the body as an obstacle in the path to spiritual knowledge (ix. 15). The teaching of the Stoics suggested to him the penetratingness of Wisdom (vii. 24), and her quickness of understanding (vii. 22). The doctrine of Providence (xiv. 3) and the conception of the four cardinal virtues (viii. 7), were a loan partly from Plato and partly from the Stoics. This combination of knowledge of Egypt and sympathy with Greek studies points plainly to Alexandria; and the inference is strengthened by a comparison of Wisdom with the writings of the Alexandrian Philo. For the affinity between them is so close, that the author has been styled a pre-Philonic Philonist. Like Philo (but in a more uncompromising way), he is a Jew loyal to the national religion; and no centre offered the same opportunities as did Alexandria for a Jew who wished to unite a liberal eclecticism with his traditional faith.”[476] For the influence of Greek philosophy to be discerned in the book see Part I, Chapter IV.

II. THE DATE OF THE BOOK

Among modern scholars controversy regarding the date of our book centres round the question as to whether it belongs to the middle of the last century B.C. or about a hundred years later, though some (e.g. Gregg, _Op. cit._, p. xi.) would date it as early as “within the last quarter of the second century B.C.” There are three main points to be taken into consideration in seeking to fix an approximate date.

(_a_) The author quotes from the Septuagint of the Book of Isaiah (ii. 12, cp. Isa. iii. 10, and xv. 10, cp. Isa. xliv. 20), and also from the Book of Job (xii. 12, cp. Job ix. 12, 19); therefore these books must have already existed in their Greek form. Now from the Prologue to Ecclesiasticus it is evident that the prophetical books had been translated into Greek before Sirach’s grandson translated his grandfather’s work, and that therefore these books formed part of the Septuagint before B.C. 132.[477] But as regards the Book of Job, and the _Hagiographa_ generally,[478] we cannot say with any certainty at what precise period they were translated[479]; Swete, after reviewing the evidence, says: “Thus while the testimony of the first century A.D. does not absolutely require us to believe that all the books of the Hebrew canon had been translated and were circulated in a Greek version during the Apostolic age, such a view is not improbable; and it is confirmed by the fact that they are all contained in the canon of the Greek Bible which the Christian Church received from its Jewish predecessors.”[480] The fact, therefore, that the author of Wisdom quotes from the Book of Job in its Greek form makes it reasonably certain that our book was written during the last century B.C.

(_b_) The next point is as to the historical conditions reflected in the book. Quite recently Goodrick has examined this question with great care, and it is one which needs a brief consideration. Rightly or wrongly, it is often taken for granted that the book was written at a time when the Jews were suffering, or had recently suffered, persecution; such passages as ii. 10-20, vi. 5-9 are supposed to be references to this. What persecution is it, then, to which reference is made? Goodrick believes that the allusion is to a persecution under Caligula (A.D. 37-41). After giving the historical details, he sums up as follows: “A sore persecution has just been endured; a persecution not to the death indeed, but involving grave damage and distress. This persecution, founded in part on gross calumny, had as one of its main features the attempted enforcement of idolatry, and of idolatry in its most insane and revolting form—the worship of a living man. This living man was a prince ruling at a distance, but his commands were enforced by apostate Jews dwelling close at hand, who had surrendered their ancient belief without sincerely adopting any other, and represented no religion except that of Epicureanism, for which they sought to find their text-book in the so-called Solomon’s ‘Preacher.’ This persecution had been carried on through the agency of the dregs of the populace of Alexandria, wherein were represented the superstition of ancient Egypt at its worst, combined with hereditary Greek hatred of the Jews, and wild misrepresentation of their religion and ordinances. Finally, a time of temporary repose must be pictured, in which it was possible to substitute severe rebuke for furious complaint. All these conditions the period from A.D. 41 to 44 presents, and an examination of the Book of Wisdom confirms the belief that it was then written.”[481] In support of this Goodrich refers first to ii. 10-20, where the ungodly say “within themselves, reasoning not aright” (see ii. 1):[482]

10. Let us oppress the righteous poor; Let us not spare the widow, Nor reverence the grey hairs of the old man full of years.

11. But let our strength be to us a law of righteousness, For weakness is condemned as unprofitable.

12. But let us lie in wait for the righteous, for he is useless to us, And is opposed to our doings, And upbraideth us for sins against the Law, And denounceth to us sins against our discipline.

13. For he professeth to have knowledge of God, And calleth himself the servant of the Lord.

14. He became for us a rebuke to our machinations;

15. He is grievous unto us even to look upon, Because his life is unlike other men’s, And his ways are peculiar.

16. As base metal were we accounted by him, And he abstaineth from our ways as from uncleanness. He calleth the latter end of the righteous blessed, And vaunteth that God is his Father.

17. Let us see if his words be true. Yea, and make trial of what will happen at his going forth.

18. For if the righteous man be God’s son, He will uphold him, And will deliver him out of the hand of them that rise up against him.

19. With insult and torture let us test him, That we may know his tolerance, And judge of his endurance of evil.

20. Let us condemn him to a shameful death, So shall there be made examination of him from his own words.

Goodrick maintains that we have here the description of the oppression of the righteous man. Of the calumnies which had instigated the persecution, “that which had obtained the widest circulation ... was that of the hatred of the Jews for all mankind except their own nation. It is probably alluded to in ii. 15, and is controverted in xii. 19” (“... the righteous must be a lover of mankind”). Further, he says that the allusion to the deification of living men is plain in xiv. 16, 17:

Then in time, being enforced, the impious custom was kept as a law, And by the commands of despots graven images were worshipped, Whom men, not being able to honour in their presence, through dwelling at a distance, Counterfeiting their features far away, Made a visible image of the honoured king, To flatter by their zeal the absent as present (cp. also vi. 2).

Finally, the most striking reference to contemporary matters, says Goodrick, is “that in xix. 5 as to the rights of citizenship”:

But these with feastings (First) welcoming _them that already shared the same rights_, Vexed them with sore labours.

Regarding the question of historical conditions by itself Goodrick’s contention as to the date of our book is weighty; but even so his arguments do not necessarily carry conviction. It is not necessary, as Toy points out, “to suppose that the work was composed in the midst of one of the violently hostile movements. The author, even if he lived in a relatively quiet time, would know enough of the general fortunes of his people to paint his pictures of suffering (ii.-v., xiv.). Nor is his reference to the worship of the statues of kings (xiv. 16-20) chronologically decisive, for divine worship was paid to Ptolemy I, and probably to Antiochus II, as well as to Caligula and other Roman emperors. The author is, in fact, as Grimm remarks, giving a learned account of the origin of idolatry, and it is unnecessary to assume that the deified princes to whom he refers were his contemporaries.”[483] It is also necessary to remember that the command to worship the statue of Caligula meant the setting up of his effigy in the Temple at Jerusalem and in the synagogues of Alexandria; is it likely that our author, loyal and ardent Jew that he was, would use the mild language that he does if it were a question of such a supreme outrage upon Jewish belief and practice?

(_c_) But there is another point to be taken into consideration in discussing the date of our book, namely, whether or not it is pre-Philonian. Diametrically opposed views are held by scholars; Schürer (_Op. cit._, II, iii. p. 234) regards it as certain that our book precedes Philo, for “his standpoint is a preliminary step to Philo’s.” This, as he says, would not in itself prove a higher antiquity; “but with the near affinity of the two it is inconceivable that our author would have remained unaffected by Philo if he had succeeded him.” Farrar (_Op. cit._, p. 421) says that the impression left on his mind is that “the book was composed in the Roman epoch, and by an author who was familiar with the speculations of Philo, but regarded them from a completely independent point of view. The impression that he was to some extent influenced by the views of Philo, and that Philo was not influenced by him, is very strong. If he had preceded Philo, some traces of the powerful style and individuality and phraseology of the Pseudo-Solomon must surely have been observable in the voluminous pages of the Jewish Theosophist.” Goodrick, while agreeing with Farrar that the author of our book regarded the speculations from a completely independent point of view, does not think that there is the slightest reference or allusion in either from either. While it is, so far, true that, as Goodrick says, “we are left to the _à priori_ conjectures of scholars,” there is one important point, emphasized by Gregg, which seems conclusive; Gregg writes (_Op. cit._, p. xii.): “In spite of the remarkable similarity (in some cases amounting almost to identity) of the language of Philo and that of Wisdom, there is one vital difference which points to a considerably earlier date for the latter. The Logos-idea is the leading feature of Philo’s system, and there is in Wisdom no trace of the Philonian Logos, nor is the Divine Wisdom ever even identified with the Logos. In Philo’s time the Logos-doctrine must have belonged to current Alexandrian thought; had Philo been its originator, he would have asserted it in a more polemical manner. Accordingly, time must be allowed for the development of a doctrine which Philo found ready to hand, and that length of time must have separated the composition of Wisdom from the writings of Philo. The inference is (see Grimm, _Intr._, p. 34), that Wisdom was composed a considerable time, perhaps a century, before Philo, who was born about B.C. 20, began to write.” This is a strong argument, though it does not seem necessary to date our book as much as a century before the time of Philo. Holmes grants the validity of Gregg’s argument (which is also that of Grimm), though, as he says, “it only means that the book must be earlier than the student-life of Philo, which may be placed from B.C. 5-A.D. 5.... But ignorance of the Alexandrine Logos-doctrine can only affect the date of the first part of the book; the second part may with Bousset (_Religion des Judenthums_, p. 35) be dated after the beginning of the Empire (say B.C. 30), on account of xiv. 17, where the likeness of an _absent_ ruler is mentioned” (_Op. cit._, p. 521). All things considered, the most probable date would seem to be the latter half of the last century B.C., the earlier half of the book belonging to the beginning, the later half to the end, of this period.

III. THE QUESTION OF COMPOSITE AUTHORSHIP

The question of the unity, or otherwise, of the book is a difficult one; the arguments used in support of either position are strong; anyone who reads them all would, we should imagine, hesitate to pronounce a definite opinion unless he had some new argument to present on one side or the other.[484] We shall briefly enumerate the reasons which have led many scholars to believe that the book is of composite authorship. Upon one point all authorities are agreed, whether they accept the unity of the book or not, namely, that it is divided into two distinct parts: ii.-xi. 1, and xi. 2-xix. It is the differences of various kinds between these two parts which have suggested composite authorship; these are as follows:

(_a_) The conception of God; in part I God’s action is represented in a way quite different from that taught in part II; this will be seen from the few following quotations from each part. In vii. 22-viii. 1 Wisdom is spoken of in such a way as to show that God acts _indirectly_ through it:

... Beneficent, loving toward man, Steadfast, sure, free from care; All-powerful, all-surveying, And penetrating through all spirits That are quick of understanding; pure, subtil, For Wisdom is more mobile than any motion; Yea, she pervadeth and penetrateth all things by reason of her pureness. For she is a breath of the power of God ... ... For she is an effulgence from everlasting light, And an unspotted mirror of the working of God, And an image of His goodness. And she, though but one, hath power to do all things ... ... But she reacheth from one end of the world to the other with full strength, And ordereth all things well (cp. also x. 1 ff.).

And again in viii. 6 it is said:

Who more than Wisdom is an artificer of the things that are?

It is clear enough from these passages that the Divine action is represented as being accomplished through the agency of Wisdom. In contrast to this God’s action is represented as _direct_ in part II; for example, in xv. 1 we read:

But Thou, our God, art gracious and true, Longsuffering, and in mercy ordering all things.

The same truth is taught in xiii. 1:

For by nature all men were foolish, and had no perception of God, And from the good things to be seen had not power to know Him that is, Neither by giving honour to the works did they recognize the Artificer.

(_b_) Another thing which is believed to point to a difference of authorship is that in part I Wisdom plays a most important _rôle_, whereas in part II it is never mentioned.[485] This is rather striking, especially when taken in conjunction with what has been said in (_a_), for so many opportunities occur in part II for Wisdom to be mentioned; in a number of passages it might have found a place very naturally. For an author who has such an exalted conception of Wisdom as the writer of part I, it certainly strikes one as strange to find that he suddenly ignores it altogether in part II; whereas if the latter was of different authorship no problem presents itself.

(_c_) Further, the generally broad outlook of part I stands in striking contrast to the pronounced particularism of the second part. This in itself is, of course, not sufficient to decide the question of authorship in favour of duality any more than the other arguments put forth; but the cumulative effect of all cannot be ignored; and this is emphasized by one more, perhaps the strongest, argument, viz.:

(_d_) Stylistic and linguistic differences. In part I the style is “relatively simple and direct, with constant regard to the Hebrew principle of parallelism, whilst, in the second part, it is ambitious, grandiloquent, or turgid, complicated and artificial, often without parallelism.”[486] With regard to the linguistic differences Holmes[487] has recently made a careful examination of them, and the results he gives are not to be ignored; they are far too detailed and technical to be dealt with here. But his own conclusion is that the difference in style, presentation and tone, together with those of language and diction, taken together with other problems which present themselves, are such that “there are considerable difficulties in the way of accepting the unity of authorship which have not been met by its upholders. If we could assume that the writer of the second part had studied the first part carefully, and wished to write a supplement to it, both resemblances and differences could be accounted for.”

But the arguments in favour of dual authorship have not been ignored by the champions of unity of authorship; their position has been well summed up by Toy thus: “It may be said that a logical unity [between the two parts] is recognizable in the fact that the two points of attack in the work, apostasy and idolatry, represent the two great enemies of the later devout Judaism, and that a consciousness of unity is shown in ix. 18, which makes the transition from the first part to the second,[488] and has not the appearance of an editorial insertion; that the similarity between i. 1 and