Samuel and the Prophetical Office, Lecture XVIII: Samuel (part 1)

by Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, D.D.  

   The fall of the sanctuary of Shiloh was the ter-     
mination of the first period of Jewish history    
which had lasted from Moses to Eli.  It had      
been a period varied and shifting in detail, but with      
this common feature, - that it was a time of wan-     
dering and of strife, of danger and of deliverance,    
of continual and direct dependence on the help of      
God alone, with no regular means of government, or      
law, or army, or king, to ward off the enemies that        
were constantly assailing them from without, or to      
repress the disorders that were constantly disturbing       
them from within.  The Judges themselves were      
regarded as invested with something of a divine or     
God-like character ; the more so perhaps from their      
solitary and strange elevation above all around them.        
A new selection of Judges is described as "a choosing     
of new gods ; "and the two last of the series are     
especially dignified with the name of "God."  This       
period, called on these accounts by Josephus "the     
Theocracy" or "Aristocracy," was now at an end.      
The wanderings were at last over, and the battle was     
at last won.  The desire of the people was stimulated     
by its nearer insight into the customs of the sur-      
rounding nations to have a ruler like to them ; the       
coming change had already, as we saw in the times        
of the Judges, made itself felt by the gradual     
approximation to such an institution in the     
lives of Jair and Abdon Gideon and Abimelech, Eli     
and Samuel.  All these indications were at last to re-     
ceive their full accomplishment in the inauguration of      
a fixed, hereditary, regal government, in the person     
of the first king - "Behold the king whom ye have      
chosen, and whom ye have desired.  Behold, the     
Lord hath set a king over you."  Now, therefore,      
was to begin that second period, that new and untried      
future, which was to last for another five hundred     
years - the period of the Monarchy.  Was it possible       
that an institution which had begun in wilfulness and      
distrust would ripen into a just and holy law?  would        
the establishment of armies, and officers of state, and      
king succeeding king, as a matter of course, without       
any sudden call or mission, - would the growth of      
poetry, and architecture, and music, and all the other      
arts which spring up under an established rule, -      
would the secure dwelling of every man under his      
own vine and fig-tree, - would these and many like       
changes destroy or confirm, diminish or expand, the      
faith which had hitherto been the safety of the Chosen     
People?  Would the true Theocracy, the government      
of God, be weakened or strengthened, now that in       
name it was was withdrawn?  Was this great stride in     
earthly civilization inconsistent with the preservation      
of the ancient primeval religion of Abraham, and     
Moses, and Joshua?       
   Such were the questions which actually would arise     
in the mind of any thoughtful Israelite at      
this crisis.  They are questions which, in some form      
or other, arise at every like crisis in the progress of      
the Church.  It must be reserved for the discussion     
of the history of the Monarchy to point out how     
these natural fears were in part justified, but yet on     
the whole rendered futile, by the actual results of      
the change.  In the Kings of Israel and Judah we     
shall see the first exhibition of that union of regal      
and priestly excellence, which was to be completed      
in a yet diviner sense, only in the final stage of the       
sacred history.  We shall trace in the victories of the      
hosts of Israel the first complete establishment of the       
new and great name of God, - " The Lord of Hosts,"      
" Jehovah Sabaoth."  In the Psalms of David, in the      
Temple of Solomon, and in the prophecies of Isaiah,     
we shall recognize a fuller communion with God,       
even than on the holy mountain of Sinai, or in the      
speaking face to face with Moses as with a friend.      
   But those blessings were still in the distance.  We     
are yet on the threshold.  It will, however, be useful     
here to describe the influences first of the indi-      
vidual and then of the office, which were raised     
up to guide the Jewish Church (and, by example,     
the Christian Church) through this or any like        
transitions.      
    In this crisis of the Chosen People, second only in     
importance to the Exodus, there appeared a leader,    
second only to Moses.  Amidst the wreck of the an-      
cient institutions of the country, amidst the rise and      
growth of the new, there was one counsellor to whom       
all turned for advice and support - one heart to      
which "the Lord" especially "revealed Him-     
self."  The life and character of Samuel,     
covers the whole of this period of perplexity and      
doubt.  The two books which give an account of the      
first establishment of the Monarchy are called by his       
name, as fitly as the books which give an account       
of the establishment of the Theocracy are called by      
the name of Moses.  At the close of this first period     
of the Jewish history, and on the eve of the second      
period, it will be necessary to draw forth those points       
in his character and appearance which specially fitted      
him for this position.  As in the case of all the ear-     
lier characters of the Jewish Church, we must be     
content with an uncertainty and dimness of percep-     
tion ;  we must not expect to form a complete por-     
traiture of either the man or his history.  But the      
general effect of the whole career is sufficiently clear,    
and on that alone I propose to dwell.       

I.   First, then, observe precisely what his position     
was, and how he filled it.  He was not a Founder     
of a new state of things like Moses, nor a champion        
of the existing order of things like Elijah or      
Jeremiah.  He stood, literally, between the      
past and the future, between the old an the new,     
with that sympathy for each which, at such a period,     
is the best hope for any permanent solution of the      
questions which torment it.  He had been brought     
up and nurtured in the ancient system.  His child-       
hood had been spent in the Sacred Tent of Shiloh,        
the last relic of the Wanderings in the Desert.  His     
early dedication to the sanctuary belonged to that age      
of vows, of which we saw the excess in the rash and      
hasty vows of Jephthah, of Saul, and of the assembly      
at Mizpeh ;  in the more regular, but still peculiar and       
eccentric devotion of Samson to the life of a Nazarite.      
As he grew up, devoted by his mother, herself almost       
a Nazarite, secluded from the world in his linen      
ephod, his long locks flowing over his shoulders, on     
which no razor was ever to pass, perhaps we may       
add, abstaining from all wine and strong drink, he      
must have presented a likeness, civilized and tamed    
indeed, but still a likeness, of the wild Danite cham-         
pion who rent the lion, and smote the Philistines with      
the jawbone of an ass - he must have been a living      
memorial of past times, far into a new generation       
which knew such things no more.     
   He was also a Judge, of the ancient generation, the      
last of the Judges, the last of that long succes-     
sion who had been raised up from Othniel     
downwards to effect special deliverances.  In the over-       
throw of the sanctuary of Shiloh, and the disasters which      
followed, we hear not what became of Samuel.  He       
next appears, after an interval of many years, suddenly      
amongst the people, warning them against their idol-     
atrous practices.  He convened an assembly at Miz-      
peh - probably the place of that name in the tribe of       
Benjamin - and there with a symbolical rite, expressive      
partly of deep humiliation, partly of the libations of a      
treaty, they poured water on the ground, they fasted      
and they  entreated Samuel to raise the piercing shrill     
cry, for which his prayers were known, in supplication      
to God for them.  It was at the moment that he was      
offering up a sacrifice, and sustaining this loud cry, that       
the Philistine host burst suddenly upon them.  A       
violent thunderstorm and (according to Jose-     
phus) an earthquake, came to the timely assistance of     
Israel.  The Philistines fled, and, exactly at the spot      
where twenty years before they had obtained their      
great victory, they were totally routed.  A huge stone     
was set up, which long remained as a memorial of      
Samuel's triumph, and gave to the place its name of        
Eben-ezer, "the Stone of Help," which was thence passed      
into Christian phraseology, and became a common name     
of Puritan saints and Nonconformist chapels.  The      
old Canaanites, whom the Philistines had dispossessed     
in the outskirts of the Judæan hills, seem to have      
helped in the battle, and "there was peace between      
Israel and the Amorites."  A large portion of lost      
territory in the plain of Philistia was recovered.  The      
battle of Eben-ezer - the first, and, as far as we know,      
the only direct military achievement of Samuel -        
marked as it was by the first return of victory to the     
arms of Israel after the fall of Shiloh, was apparently       
the event which raised him to the office of "Judge."          
There, in the same way as "Jerubbaal, and Bedan,    
and Jephthah," with whom he is thus classed, he      
won his title to that name, then the highest in the     
nation.  He dwelt in his own birthplace, and, like      
Gideon, or like Micah, made it a sanctuary of his own.     
There was still no central capitol.  Shiloh was gone,     
Shechem was gone, and Jerusalem was not yet come.    
All was as of old, yet uncertain and unfixed.  The per-      
sonal, family bond was stronger than the national.  He      
went from year to year, indeed, in solemn circuit to      
the ancient sanctuaries within his own immediate     
neighborhood - "Bethel, and Gilgal, and Mizpeh" -      
and "judged Israel in all those place."  But "his re-      
turn was always to Ramah; " or there was his      
house, and there he judged Israel, and there he built      
an altar unto the Lord."  As yet "there was no king      
in Israel - he did what was right in his own eyes."     
His sons, as in the case of those of Jair and Abdon,      
shared the power with him, though at the remote       
southern sanctuary of Beersheba ; and in their corrupt     
practices he lived to see a repetition of the scandals     
of Hophni and Phinehas.  He was, as it might have       
seemed, but as one of the old chiefs of the bygone     
age - half warrior, half sage.  Like the Levite who     
dwelt in the sanctuary of Micah, but on a grander scale,    
he was consulted throughout the neighborhood      
as an oracle for any of the vexations or difficul-       
ties of common life.  In him we see the last example      
of the custom which was "beforetime in Israel when      
men went to inquire of God" about these matters.      
An ass would have gone astray on the mountains, or     
an expedition in search of a settlement would need to     
be blessed, and the inquirers would come with the ever-       
recurring present (bakhshish) of the Oriental supplicant      
- loaves of bread, or the fourth part of a shekel of sil-     
ver, or the offer of a good place in the new settlement.      
   An awful reverence for the ancient times thus grew    
up around him.  His long-protracted life was like the     
shadow of the great rock of an older epoch projected     
into the level of the modern age.  "He Judged Israel      
all his life:" even after the Monarchy had sprung up,      
he was still a witness of an earlier and more primitive      
state.  Whatever murmurs or complaints had arisen,     
were always hushed for the moment before his pres-      
ence.  They leaned upon him, they looked back to him      
even from after-ages, as their fathers had leaned upon     
Moses.  A peculiar virtue was believed to reside in his     
intercession.  In later times he was conspicuous amongst     
those that "call upon the name of the Lord," and was      
thus placed with Moses as "standing" (in the special      
sense of the attitude for prayer "before the Lord."    
It was the last consolation that he left in his     
parting address, that he would "cry," in agitated      
moments, "all night long unto the Lord," and thus        
seem to draw down, as if by force, the Divine answer.        
"Cease not to cry to the Lord for us."  "And Samuel       
cried unto the Lord . . . and " (as if with a special ref-       
erence to the meaning of his name, "asked" or "heard"       
of God) "the Lord heard him."  No festive or solemn        
occasion was complete without his presence.  "The      
people will not eat until he come, because he doth      
bless the sacrifice; and afterwards they eat that be       
'bidden.' "  His coming was a signal for mingled fear      
and joy.  The elders of Bethlehem "trembled at his       
coming, and said, 'Comest thou peaceably?' And he     
said, 'Peaceably: I am come to sacrifice unto the Lord.     
Sanctify yourselves, and come with me to the sac-      
rifice.' "         
   When we read of that apparition, in which he was      
evoked after death, as he had been known in life, there     
was something terrific, yet venerable, in his aspect;     
"I see a god ascending out of the earth."      
His long Nazarite hair, now white with age,      
marked him from a distance to be the old grey-headed     
seer.  The little mantle which his mother gave him,      
reaching down to his feet, had from his earliest years      
marked him out as an almost royal personage; and the      
same peculiar robe, in extended proportions, wrapped      
round him, was his badge to the end.  On its skirt      
Saul had laid hold when he had last parted from Sam-      
uel at Gilgal.  By its folds, he recognized him in the       
vision at Endor.

II.   Such was Samuel, as the last representative of      
the ancient mediæval Church of Judaism.  But       
there was another relation inseparably blended        
with this, in which he must be regarded as the first       
representative of the new epoch which was now dawn-     
ing on his country.  He is explicitly described as "Sam-    
uel the Prophet."  " All the prophets from Samuel and      
those that follow after."  "He gave them judges until      
Samuel the Prophet."  We have already seen the lower     
and more limited sense, in which he might be so called,     
as the oracle of his neighborhood or of his country in      
the various difficulties, great or small, which drove them      
to consult him.  We are even enabled to observe the       
special means by which he received the revelations     
which thus first gained for him the reverence of his      
countrymen.  "By dreams, by Urim, and by prophets,"     
we are told, weer the three especial channels by which      
in those days "the Lord answered" to those that in-     
quired of Him.  By the first of these, we can hardly       
doubt, it is intended to be intimated that Samuel re-      
ceived and delivered his early warnings.  "The word of     
the Lord was precious in those days - there was no      
open vision."  It was in the stillness of the night,     
just before dawn, that Samuel first heard       
the Divine Voice.  That voice and those visions       
still continued.  "The Lord revealed himself to Samuel."      
It is, with perhaps one exception, the earliest instance       
of the use of the word which has since become the      
name for all Divine communication.  "The Lord un-      
covered the ear," - such is the literal expression ; a       
touching and significant figure, taken from the man-      
ner in which the professor of a secret moves back the     
long hair of his friend, and whispers into the ear thus     
laid bare the word that no one else may hear.  It is       
a figure which precisely expresses the most universal      
and philosophical idea conveyed by the term "Revelation,"       
thence appropriated in the theological language both of      
Eas and West.  "The Father of Truth" (says an em-       
inent scholar, indicating his own use of this phrase to       
describe the mission of the Semitic races) "chooses       
His own prophets, and He speaks to them in a voice       
stronger than the voice of thunder.  It is the same       
inner voice through which God speaks to all of us.  
That voice may dwindle away, and become hardly      
audible; it may lose its divine accent and sink into      
the language of worldly prudence; but it may also      
from time to time assume its real nature with the      
chosen of God, and sound into their ears as a voice      
from Heaven.  A 'divine instinct' would neither be       
an appropriate name for what is a gift or grace ac-      
corded but to few, nor would it be a more intelligible     
word than 'special Revelation.' "     
   Through these revelations, the child first and then     
the man, became "Samuel the Seer."  By that       
ancient name, older than any other designa-      
tion of the Prophetic office, he was known in his own     
as in after-times.  "I am the Seer," was his answer     
to those who asked, "Is the Seer here?"  "Where is     
the Seer's house"  "Samuel the Seer" is the name       
by which he is known in the books of Chronicles, as    
the counsellor of Saul and David.  And, as if in a      
distorted reminiscence of his peculiar gift of second    
sight, - of insight into the secrets of Heaven and of     
the future, - Samuel is the character selected in Mussul-      
man traditions as the first revealer of the mysteries      
of the nocturnal flight of Mahomet from Mecca to        
Jerusalem.  But it was in a much higher and more      
important sense than as a mere "seer" of visions, that    
Samuel appears as preëminently "The Prophet."  The      
passages already quoted from the New Testament in-     
dicate to us, and Augustine in his "De Civitate Dei,"        
has well caught the idea, that he is the beginning of      
that Prophetical dispensation, which ran parallel with      
the Monarchy from the first to the last king, and to-       
gether with it forms the essential characteristic of the     
whole of the coming period.  "Hoc itaque tempus, ex     
quo Sanctus Samuel prophetare cœpit, et deinceps      
donec populus Israel in Babyloniam captivus ducere-       
tur . . . .  totum est tempus Prophetarum."  It      
was from Samuel's time that the succession was never      
broken.  Even the Musselman legends delight to make     
him the herald of all the Prophets, down to the last,     
that were to come after him.        
   In many ways does this origination of the line of      
Prophets centre in Samuel.  We may trace back to      
him the institution even in its outward form and      
fashion.  In his time we first hear of what in     
modern phraseology are called the Schools of     
the Prophets.  Whatever be the precise mean-       
ing of the peculiar word, which now came first into     
use as the designation of these companies, it is evi-     
dent that their immediate mission consisted in utter-      
ing religious hymns or songs, accompanied by musical      
instruments - psaltery, tabret, pipe and harp, and cym-     
bals.  In them, as in the few solitary instances of           
their predecessors, the characteristic element was that         
the silent seer of visions found an articulate voice,    
gushing forth in a rhythmical flow, which at once       
riveted the attention of the hearer.  These, or such      
as these, were the gifts which under Samuel were now       
organized, if only one may say so, into a system.  The       
spots where they were chiefly gathered, even in latter     
times, were more or less connected with their founder;     
Bethel and Gilgal.  But the chief place where they        
appear in his own lifetime is his own birthplace and      
residence, Ramah, Ramathaim-zophim, 'the height,      
the double height of the watchmen."  From this or      
from some neighboring height they might be seen     
descending, in a long line or chain, which gave its     
name to their company, with "psaltery, harp, tabret,     
pipe, and cymbals."  Or by dwellings, the leafy      
huts as they were in later times, on the hill-side -      
Naioth in Ramah " - they were settled in a congre-      
gation (such is the word in the original), a church      
as it were within a church, and "Samuel stood appointed     
over them."  Under the shadow of his name they        
dwelt as within a charmed circle.  From them went     
forth an influence which awed and inspired even the      
wild and reckless soldiers of that lawless age.  Amongst      
them we find the first authors distinctly named, in       
Hebrew literature, of actual books which descended      
to later generations, and gathered up the recollections      
of their own or former times.  Song, and mystic,        
and dance were interwoven in some sacred union,       
difficult for us to conceive in these western or north-     
ern regions, yet not without illustrations even at the       
present day from religious observances of Spain      
and of Arabia.  But, unlike the dances of Seville and      
Cairo, the mystical songs and ecstasies of these Pro-       
phetic Schools were trained to ends much nobler than      
any mere ceremonial observance.  Thither in that age      
of change and dissolution Samuel gathered round him        
all that was generous and devout in the people of      
God.  David, the shepherd warrior and wandering     
outlaw - Saul, the wild and wayward king - Heman,         
the grandson of Samuel himself, chief singer, after-      
wards, in David's court, and known especially as the       
king's seer - Gad, the devoted companion of David      
in his exile - Nathan, his stern reprover in after-times,    
and the wise counsellor of David's wise son - all, how-      
ever different their characters and stations, seem to     
have found a home within those sacred haunts, all     
caught the same divine inspiration; all were, for the       
time at least, drawn together by the invigorating and     
elevating atmosphere.     
   I may be forgiven, if for a moment before dwelling     
in detail on what belongs to the special age and       
country, I call attention to the fact that this is the     
first direct mention, the first express sanction, not     
merely of regular arts of instruction and education,       
but of regular societies formed for that purpose - of            
schools, of colleges, of universities.  Long before Plato         
had gathered his disciples round him in the olive     
grove, or Zeon in the Portico, these institutions had        
sprung up under Samuel in Judea.         
   It is always interesting in ecclesiastical history to in-     
dicate the successive moments at which the successive     
ideas and institutions, afterwards to be developed, first       
came into existence.  And here, in Oxford, it is im-      
possible not to note with peculiar interest the rise of      
these, as they may be truly called, the first places      
of regular religious education.  They present to us,      
even in detail, the same fixedness of local continuity,      
which so remarkably distinguishes our schools and     
universities from the shifting philosophical societies of       
Greece; at Betel and at Gilgal, if not at Ramah,      
the schools of the Prophets are found in the time of      
Elijah where they were in the time of Samuel, even      
as our own university, and our own colleges, still      
flourish on the ground chosen ages ago by Alfred      
and by Walter de Merton.  They present to us, also,       
so far as we know anything of their constitution,     
something of the same large influence, so often ob-      
served amongst ourselves ; the effect exercised rather         
by the general atmosphere and society of the place,     
than by its special instructions.  Of the information     
imparted by Samuel, or by the fathers of the school      
of the Prophets, we know hardly anything.  We see      
only that there was a contagion of goodness, of en-      
thusiasm, of energy, which even those who came     
with hostile or indifferent minds, such as Saul and       
the messengers of Saul, found it almost impossible to      
resist; they, too, were wrapt into the vortex of in-        
spiration, and the by-standers exclaimed with astonish-     
ment, "Is Saul also among the prophets?"  How like      
to the spell exercised by the local genius of our       
English Universities, insensibly, unaccountably exer-       
cised over many, who would not be able to say how      
or whence they had gained it ; how like to the in-     
fluences passing to and fro amongst us, for good or     
evil, from the example, the characters, the spirit of       
our companions ; far more potent than lectures, or       
precepts or sermons.  "I have learned much from my     
Masters, more from my companions, most of all     
from my scholars."  And, further, if this be so,        
the peculiar circumstances of the rise of the Pro-      
phetic Schools of Israel may well point out      
to us one special object, at least, of all such       
seats of education everywhere.  To mediate     
between the old and the new ; to maintain a current    
of independent thought and feeling amidst the pres-     
sure of lower influences ; to distinguish between that     
which is temporal and that which is eternal - this is      
the mission of institutions like ours ; this was the     
mission of Samuel, and of the schools of which he     
was the Founder.

from The History of the Jewish Church, Vol. I : Abraham to Samuel,
"Samuel and the Prophetical Office; Lecture XVIII: Samuel"
by Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, D.D., Dean of Westminster
Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1879, pp. 429-444

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