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Jdg_16:21-31
[2 Jdg_16:22.— ëַּàֲùֶׁø : “about the time that,” or “as soon as.” The word intimates that Samson was not long in the wretched condition of prisoner. As soon as his hair began measurably to grow, the events about to be related occurred. So Bertheau and Keil.—Tr.]
[3 Jdg_16:25.— åִéùַׂçֶ÷Îìָðåּ . Like the E. V., Dr. Cassel, De Wette, and Bunsen (Bibelwerk), adopt general renderings, which leave the kind of sport afforded by Samson, and the way in which he furnished it, undetermined. Bush remarks that “it is quite improbable that Samson, a poor blind prisoner, should be required actively to engage in anything that should make sport to his enemies.” But the decidedly active expression in the next clause, åַéְöַçֵ÷ ìִôְðéäֶí , can scarcely be interpreted of a mere passive submission to mockery on the part of Samson (cf. also Jdg_16:27). The word öִçֵ÷ ( ùִׂçֵ÷ is a softening of the same form) is used of mimic dances, cf. Exo_32:6; 1Sa_18:7; 2Sa_6:5; 2Sa_6:21, etc. There is surely no great improbability in supposing that the Philistines in the height of their revels should call upon “a poor, blind prisoner” to execute a dance, for their own delectation and for his deeper humiliation; while, on the other hand, Samson’s acquiescence may be explained from his desire to gain a favorable opportunity for executing his dread design. After the fatiguing dance, his request to be permitted to “lean upon” the pillars would appear very natural.—Tr.]
[4 Jdg_16:26.— äֲîִéùֵׁðִé (instead of the erroneous Kethibh äֵéîִùֵׁðִé , from a root éָîùׁ , which does not occur): from îåּùׁ , îָùַׁùׁ , ìÜóóù , to touch; onomatopoetic, like palpare.
[5 Jdg_16:28.— åְàִðָּ÷ְîָä ðְ÷ַíÎàַçַú . Dr. Cassel’s rendering is very similar to that of the E. V.: Dass ich noch einmal Vergeltung nehme um meiner zwei Augen willen—“let me once more take vengeance, this time for my two eyes.” But unless ðָ÷ָí is here feminine, contrary to rule, this rendering is against the consonants, to say nothing of the vowel points. The text, as it stands, must be read: “that I be avenged with the vengeance of one (ss. eye, which is fem.) out of my two eyes.” Compare the exegesis below.—Tr.]
The story which represents Belisarius, the great hero of Justinian’s reign, as deprived of his eyes, and begging for oboli in the streets of Constantinople, is a fiction of later times; but it falls far short of the unspeakable misery actually endured by Samson. The consciousness of the treason of which he had been guilty towards God, and which had been so terribly practiced toward himself; the fall from a height so glorious and prosperous, into an indescribable dishonor; the impotence of the formerly victorious freeman, the blindness of one so sharp-witted, the chains on his consecrated body, the yells of triumph of the cowardly foe,—all this overwhelmed his soul so powerfully, that one less great than he had died for grief. And his people kept silence. But the Philistines still feared him, even in his blindness. They fettered him with iron chains, and made him turn a mill in the prison. Deeper dishonor could not be inflicted. For the hero of divine freedom was made to perform the work of a slave. It is well known that in antiquity the work of grinding was done by slaves (Exo_11:5; Exo_12:29). The slaves thus employed were moreover considered the lowest, worth less money than any others, and as such found themselves in the worst situation (cf. Böckh, Staatshaushalt der Athener, i. 95, ed. 2d). The depth of Samson’s humiliation is as great as his former elevation. But in the midst of his untold sufferings,—
Jdg_16:22. The hair of his head began to grow again. With blinded eyes he began spiritually to see—fettered with chains he became free—under slavish labor he ripened for the freedom of God. While he was yet prosperous, the person of Delilah interposed between his sight and his calling and duty for his people; now, though blind and within prison walls, he saw the power and greatness of his God. He recognized his error, and repented. The greatness of the fallen Samson consisted in this, that, like all noble natures in similar circumstances, he became greater and freer in the deepest suffering than he had been before.
Jdg_16:23-24. And the princes of the Philistines assembled themselves. A general feast of thanksgiving and sacrifices was to be celebrated in Gaza. This shows that Gaza was at that time the leading Philistine city, and that Dagon, the fish-shaped god ( ãָּâ , fish), was regarded by them as the embodiment of the religious antithesis between them and Israel. Dagon, the sea-god, as it were, who protects the cities on the coast, over against the God of Israel, who has won the main land. The celebration arranged by the Philistines, attended by all their tribes and princes, testifies to the unheard-of terror inspired by Samson. The circumstance that they express their joy in the form of thanksgivings and sacrifices to their god, is, in itself considered, singular, seeing that they well knew by what foul means the victory had been gained; but it is none the less instructive. Israel could learn from it that the Philistines regarded every victory over one of their number as at the same time an act of their deity,—being better in this respect than the Israelites, who continually forgot the great deeds of their God.
Jdg_16:25-27. Call Samson that he may make us sport. The Philistine thanksgiving was like themselves. Men may be known by their feasts. Here there was no thought of humility. Seriousness also is wanting, although they remind themselves of their losses. The truth is, repentance, most attractive in prosperity, is unknown to heathen. They praise their god, it is true, but they do not pray. They celebrate a popular festival, characterized by eating, drinking, and boasting. They were in high spirits over a victory for which they had not fought. Their joy reaches its acme when they send for Samson. He is brought in, chained like a bear. A people shows its worst side when it heaps mockery and insult on a defenseless foe. How would the Romans have treated Hannibal had they taken him prisoner? How was Jugurtha treated, when he was dragged into Rome in the triumph of Marius? But this Numidian fox was rendered insane over the disgrace inflicted upon him (Plut., Vita Mark , 12). The blind lion of Israel, on the contrary, walks calmly on, already conscious of the restored consecration of God on his head. His appearance afforded the highest sport; and the circumstance that every Philistine could dare to touch and mock, and otherwise abuse the blind hero, raised their mirth to the highest pitch. But pride goes before a fall; and they did not yet sufficiently know the man whom they derided.
And they placed him between the pillars. Much has been written concerning the architectural style of the building in which the occurrence took place. Bertheau is not wrong in saying that it is impossible to come to any particular determination in this matter. It was not essential to our narrator’s purpose to give an architectural description. Nevertheless, his language affords the materials for an intelligible conception. The design of placing Samson between the pillars was evidently to enable all to see him; in other words, to put him in the midst of the assembly. Now, according to ancient conceptions, Heaven and Atlas are keepers of pillars; and whether they hold fast both pillars, or with their shoulders themselves constitute the pillars, they cannot leave their places without causing the heavens to fall. This poetical view is also found in Job_26:11, where the pillars of the heavens reel at God’s reproof. Of this conception the temple-building at Gaza was a representation. Two mighty pillars supported the chief beams of the vast building. Round about the house there ran a gallery, where the populace found a place. This was called âָּâ , the same term which is applied to the flat roofs of oriental houses, which, properly speaking, are only open galleries, surrounded by trellis-work. These estrades or galleries cannot have been supported by the main pillars; for in that case many would not have been able to see Samson. The hero would be visible to all, only if he stood in the lower space, between the pillars on which the house was supported, the gallery extending around the sides of the, house, and fastened to them; and there is nothing at variance with this in his request to the lad to be allowed to lean upon the pillars. On closer inspection, our narrator tells much more than is at first apparent. Samson was evidently previously acquainted with the arrangement of the building. He knew, too, that he had been placed in the centre, or it may have been told him by the lad. There were other pillars: perhaps a portico extended around the building. But Samson requests expressly to be led to the principal pillars, “on which the house rests.” The lower part of the house was filled with àַðָùִׁéí and ðָùִׁéí , men and women of distinction, together with the princes, and was called áַּéִú ; the gallery ( âָּâ ) contained three thousand persons, àִéùׁ åְàִùָּׁä , i. e., the common people. That this gallery was in the house, that is, under the covering upborne by the pillars, and hence fell with the house, is evident from Jdg_16:30, where we read that the “house fell” upon all “that were therein.”
Jdg_16:28. And Samson called unto Jehovah. This shows that he had fully recovered himself. As soon as he can pray again, he is the hero again. The prayer he now offers is full of fervor and intensity, rising heavenward like smoke from the altar of incense. It is the deep and vast complaint which, after the awful experiences of the last days, grief and hope have caused to gather in his soul. He uses all the names of God with which he is acquainted, and confesses Him, in the darkness which surrounds him, more deeply and fervently than formerly when enjoying the light of the sun. And withal, his thoughts are beautifully arranged. For fervor excels all homiletical art. The prayer divides into three parts, and makes use of three names of God. Each part contains three nicely separated thoughts. He begins: “Lord ( àֲãֹðé ) Jehovah ( éְäåֹäָ ), remember me.” In the midst of servitude, chained and fettered by the Philistines, who lord it over him, bring him in and send him out as they choose, his spirit calls upon Adonai, the Lord who is in heaven. In the midst of Philistine jubilations over the victory of their idol, the seeming triumph of their Dagon, he calls on Jehovah, the great God of Israel, for He alone is the Lord. Alone and forsaken, surrounded by raging foes, he cries to God: “Do thou remember me.” The word æָëַø is most frequently used of God’s gracious mindfulness of any one, expressing itself in caring for him. It is with a heart full of penitence that he makes this petition. For formerly God had departed from him, and he had been deprived of God’s care over him. If now God but takes thought of him, he will once more be received into divine favor.
And strengthen me, only this once, O God. “Strengthen me.” He no longer puts his trust in himself, nor yet in his growing hair. The source of the consecration and strength which formerly adorned him, and for the return of which he pleads, is in God. For this reason, he invokes God anew,—this time as äָàֱìäִֹéí . Elohim, with the article, is the true, the only Elohim, namely, the God of Israel (cf. above, on Jdg_6:20; Jdg_6:36; and on Jdg_8:3; Jdg_13:18). While all around him, the enemies praise their god as the victor (Jdg_16:24), he prays to the God of Israel, that He, the real Elohim, the true strength, would strengthen him “yet this once.” He does not ask to be the former Samson again. He has done with life. After such disgrace, he would not wish to return to it. Only for “this time,” he prays for strength, which God gives and takes as He will, allowing no one to suppose, as Samson formerly did, that it is an inalienable possession, whether used or abused. In the third place, he declares the purpose for which he desires the strength:—
That I may yet once take vengeance on the Philistines, by reason of my two eyes. Is it right to pray thus? For Samson it is. For he was called to recompense the Philistines; his whole task was directed against the tyrants. He fell only because instead of avenging the wrongs of his people on their oppressors, he squandered his strength with the Philistine woman. If now he desires the restoration of his lost strength, he can lawfully do so only for the purpose for which it was originally given. To rend cords in pieces for sport was not his business, but to make the enemy acquainted with the power of the gracious God of Israel.
But may he then demand recompense for his “two eyes?” As Samson, he may. In his prayer, it is true, he did not plead his consecration as a “Nazarite of God;” in his humility he dares not use this plea, since a razor has passed over his head. But it was nevertheless on this account that he had his strength. It resided in him, not as man, but as Nazarite. It was not his, although he misused it; it was lent him, for his people, against the enemy. But now, his strength, even if fully restored, would avail him nothing. The loss of both his eyes rendered it useless. He could not, like a blind chieftain,—like Dandolo, the doge of Venice, and Ziska, the Bohemian,—lead his people to battle, for he is no chieftain, but a hero, who stands and fights alone. The loss of his eyes therefore, closes his career. Blindness disables him from serving longer as the instrument of the God of Israel. Hence, he desires vengeance, not for the scorn, dishonor, chains and prison, to which he has been subjected, but only for his two eyes—had they left him but one! The vengeance he seeks is not for himself, but for his people and the God who chose him.
His language, it is true, contains the contrast of of one recompense ( ð÷íÎàçú ) for his two eyes. The explanation is that he can strike but one blow more; but that one, in his mind and within his reach, will suffice for both eyes. He will inflict this blow on the Philistines, who all around him praise the idol who gave them victory, whereas it was only his former mental blindness that caused his fall, and his present physical blindness that gives them their sense of security.
Three times he attempted to withstand Delilah—three times he played with his strength,—and fell. Now, he prayed three times, to the thrice-named God, the triunity of Jehovah, for understanding and strength.
Jdg_16:29. And Samson took hold of the middle pillars. He shows himself in all his old greatness again. For the first time he stood again in a crowd of Philistines, and at once began to think of battle. And notwithstanding the wretched condition in which he found himself, he fixed at once on the point where he intends to execute his deed. His blindness becomes a means of victory. He stands between the central pillars, on which the building rests, and between which the distance is not great. Being blind, it may be allowed him to take hold of them, in order to support himself by them. (That ìָôַú may mean to take hold of, although found in that sense only here, is shown by the analogy of the Sanskrit labh, Greek ëáìâÜíåéí , ëáâåῖí .) He presses them firmly with both arms, and says:—
Jdg_16:30. Let me die with the Philistines. The very conception of the deed is extraordinary. While the Philistines rejoice, drink, and mock, worse than Belshazzar, and fancy the blinded hero deeply humiliated and put to shame, he, on the contrary, is about to perform the deed of a giant, and stands among them in the capacity of a warrior about to enter battle, who only tarries to commend his cause to God. It is true, he cannot do what he intends to do without losing his own life; but he lived only to conquer. Victory is more than life. To talk here of suicide is wholly unsuitable. He did not kill himself when plunged in the deepest dishonor. He is too great for cowardly suicide; for it is a species of flight, and heroes do not flee. No: the blinded man perceives that the present moment holds out an occasion for victory, and avails himself of it, notwithstanding that it must cost him his own life. It is not as if he would have killed himself, had he escaped. He knows that if his deed be successful, he cannot escape. But he is also ready to die. He is reconciled with his God: his eyes have again seen Him who was his strength.
The tragedy ends terribly. Laughter and shout and drunken revel are at their highest, when Samson bends the pillars with great force: they break, the building falls,—a terrific crash, and the temple is a vast sepulchre. O Dagon, where is thy victory? O Gaza, where is thy strength? Princes and priests, together, with cups at their lips, and mockery in their hearts, are crushed by the falling stone. With piercing cries, the vast crowds are pressed together. The galleries, with their burdens, precipitate themselves upon the heads of those below. Death was swifter than any rescue; the change from the sounds of rejoicing to groans and the rattle of death, terrible as the lightning. In the midst of them, great and joyous, stood the hero, and met his death. Not now with the bone of an ass, but with pillars of marble, had he conquered the foe. Dagon’s temple, with its thousands, had been heaped up as his grave-mound. Since Samson must die, he could not have fallen greater. Traitors, tormentors, mockers, enemies, tyrants, all lay at his feet. The blind hero died as the great victor, who, in penitence and prayer, expiated, by suffering and death, the errors of which he had been guilty.
The history of Samson excels all poetry. The simple narrative of it is at the same time adorned with the highest art. Its fidelity and truth are testified to by the heart of every reader. Without magic arts, with only natural grief and death, it is nevertheless full of spiritual marvels.
But who furnished the report of the last hours of the hero’s life? Who escaped, so as to set forth his praying and acting? It would seem as if this also were not left quite unhinted by the brief narrative. A lad, an attendant ( ðַòַø ), leads him, when the Philistines call him in from the prison (Jdg_16:26). It may be plausibly conjectured that this was no Philistine. It seems not improbable that Samson, the Judge, was followed into his prison by an attendant, whose fidelity continued unshaken. It enhanced the triumph of the Philistines to allow this. Upon this supposition, many points explain themselves. This attendant, then, may have furnished him with a description of the festive scene into the midst of which he was introduced, and informed him in what part of the building he was placed. From him he could also obtain guidance to the spot which he deemed it necessary to occupy. This attendant was in the secret of his prayer and purpose; and if we assume that he dismissed him before the catastrophe, we are at once enabled to explain how he could take up his peculiar position by the pillars without exciting attention. Thus the faithful follower escaped death, and quickly reported the event at home.
Jdg_16:31. And his brethren and all his father’s house came down. This is the first hint we have of interest in Samson on the part of his brethren, and the house of his father. The haste, however, with which they proceeded to Gaza, and the great fellowship in which they did it, speak well for them. They may have arrived soon enough to see the heap of ruins, with its countless dead bodies, just as it fell. They took Samson and carried him up in solemn funeral procession (such is probably the meaning of åַéִּùְׂàåּ àֹúåֹ ), to the burial-place of his father, who had not lived to see the sorrow of his great son. The terrified Philistines permitted everything. Anguish and mourning reigned among them. Everything was in confusion—their princes were dead. And so the corpse of the hero who smote them more fearfully in death than in life, was borne in silent procession along their borders.
And he judged Israel twenty years. This statement is here repeated in order to intimate that Samson’s official term had not come to a close before the events just related, but terminated with it.
Samson lived and died in conflict with the national enemies, the Philistines. The same fate has befallen his history and its exposition, from the time of Julian the imperial Philistine to that of many writers of the last centuries. It was especially in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries that irreverence was too often called criticism, and that frivolous insipidity was considered free inquiry. The æsthetic vapidness which was in part banished from the field of classical and German literature, continued to nestle in the exegesis of the Old Testament. Joh. Philipp Heine may indeed have been right in saying (Dissertat. Sacrœ, p. 259), that the mockery at Samson’s jaw-bone and foxes, had an ulterior object in view; but it was for the most part the Philistine-like, prosaic character which ordinarily marks genuine unbelief, that was unable to comprehend and rightly estimate the wonderful drama of Samson’s life. An unfruitful comparison with Hercules was constantly iterated, although deeper insight clearly shows that, apart from the lion-conquest common to both, Hercules is of all Greek heroes the least suitable to be compared with Samson. The ingenuity of the earlier ecclesiastical teachers might, nevertheless, have led them to this comparison. But according to Piper (Myth, der Christl. Kunst., i. 131), primitive Christian art never represented even so much as the conflict of Samson with the lion; and later works of art connected Hercules with David as well as with Samson. Menzel (Symbolik, ii. 380), is of opinion that the representation of Samson, in the act of tearing open the jaws of the lion, over French and German church-doors of the Middle Ages, is an imitation of similar Mithras pictures. The representation of Samson with one foot on the lion, while with his hands he throttles him, typical in Byzantine pictures, is essentially the same conception (Schäfer, Handbuch der Malerei, p. 127). The noblest conception of him in modern poetry, is that of Milton’s Samson Agonistes; but that drama treats only the end of Samson’s life, and notwithstanding its lofty thoughts and Christian fervor disfigures the beautiful simplicity of Scripture by operatic additions. Händel’s oratorio, Samson (performed for the first time in London, October 12, 1742), the text of which is by Milton, but not worthy of the great subject, is celebrated. The esteemed composer, Joachim Raff, intended to prepare a Samson opera; but whether it was ever performed I do not know. At what a low ebb the appreciation of the Book of Judges and of Samson stood in the last century, is shown by Herder’s dialogue (Geist der Ebräisch. Poesie, Werke, ii. 204), in which the poet endeavors indeed to elevate the narrative, but can only find its “most characteristically peculiar and beautiful features,” in matters incidental to the main story.
It is not quite clear how the Roman Catholic legend made a physician of Samson; and it was certainly far from appropriate when a jurist of the seventeenth century (La Mothe le Bayer, died 1672) represented him as the model of a skeptical thinker. He is a type of the ancient people Israel itself (cf. the Introduction), which is everywhere victorious, so long as it preserves its consecration intact, but falls into servitude and bondage as soon as it profanes its own sacred character. The types of the ancient Church fathers, in which they compare the life and sufferings of Samson with Christ, are very ingenious; and the pure and elevated disposition they manifest therein, finding spirit because they seek it, is greatly to be admired. A wood-carving over the choir-chairs in the Maulbronn monastery represents Samson with long waving hair, riding on the lion, the symbol of death, whose jaws he tears apart; while, on the opposite side, the unicorn lies in the lap of the Virgin,—together symbolizing the birth and resurrection of Christ. For to him applies the saying of the Apostle (Heb_11:32-33), that by faith he stopped the mouths of lions.
It is worthy of mention that while the names of the other Judges, Othniel, Ehud, Barak, Gideon, Jephthah, scarcely ever recur among the Jews, that of Samson was frequently used, both anciently and in modern times.
In the address of Samuel (1Sa_12:11), the name of a hero Bedan is inserted between Jerubbaal and Jephthah, who can be none other than Samson. The reading ÂáñÜê of the LXX. is without any probability in its favor. Bedan is Ben Dan (literally, “Son of Dan”), i.e., “the Danite.” The familiar use of this name in honor of the tribe, was undoubtedly connected with the blessing of Jacob on Dan, which after the life of Samson must have seemed to have special reference to him: “Dan shall judge his people, as one of the tribes of Israel.” The primitive consciousness of the prophecy of Jacob reveals itself herein; and nowhere could it be said with more profound significance than here,—“I wait for thy salvation, O Jehovah” (Gen_49:18).
Ancient expositors compare his death with that of Christ. But Samson gave up his life in order to cause his enemies to die: Christ in order to give them life. Samson died gladly because he had found his God again; in Christ God was never lost. It is, however, a good death, when one sees himself restored to communion with God. If the Christian, in the last brief hour of the cross, holds fast his faith, the thousand foes let loose against him by sin and temptation fall before him. When a Christian suffers, the representatives of evil place themselves round about him with laughter and mockery; and if he endures, his victory in death is greater than in life. Strong as Samson, was the weak woman Perpetua (in the second century); in the midst of tortures she said, “I know that I suffer, but I am a Christian.” Thousands of martyrs have died as Samson died. They have conquered through the cross, and have heaped mountains of dishonor upon their enemies. But they were not all buried by their brethren. They found no places in their fathers’ graves. Only He from whom nothing is hidden knows where they lie. At the last day they shall rise, and the eyes of them all shall be free from tears. Samson was alone; he also died alone. For his people he fought alone and suffered alone. After his death, the tribe of Judah raised itself again to faith. The remembrance of Samson preceded the deeds of David. Let no one fear to stand alone, whether in suffering or in conflict. The words of a faithful heart are not spoken in vain. The seed falls, not into the blue sky, but into God’s living kingdom, and in its spring time will surely rise.
Starke: The eyes of the mind are better than the eyes of the body. We can better spare the latter than the former.—The same: For God and native land life itself is not to be accounted dear, but should gladly be surrendered; and he alone who does this is truly entitled to the name of a valiant hero. Thus, also, didst thou, O Saviour, our better Samson, conquer in dying.—Gerlach. Samson sported before the Philistines, not as one who, fallen from a merely human height, endeavors with smiling scorn to maintain his self-consciousness amid the downfall of the perishable things of this world, but deeply impressed with the vanity of everything that seeks to set itself up against the Lord—of “the vain war of the earthen pots against the rock” of which Luther speaks—and therefore seizing with faith on the renewed promises of divine grace.—The Same: He becomes thoroughly convinced that, mutilated in his face, he could never again live among men, exposed to the scorn of the enemies of the Lord, and that therefore his work is done; his play is turned into bitter earnestness, and while he falls and dies, he gains the greatest victory of his whole life.
Footnotes:
[Jdg_16:21.—Dr. Cassel translates, “put him in fetters (Ketten);” and adds the following foot-note: “ ðְçֻùְׁúַּéִí , as at 2Ki_25:7, etc., are iron fetters (eiserne Ketten), compare our expression to lie in irons. The fetter consisted of two corresponding parts, hence the dual.” The word “iron” in this note is probably to be taken in the general sense of “metal,” for ðְçֻùְׁúַּéִí unquestionably means “brazen fetters.”—Tr.]
[Jdg_16:22.— ëַּàֲùֶׁø : “about the time that,” or “as soon as.” The word intimates that Samson was not long in the wretched condition of prisoner. As soon as his hair began measurably to grow, the events about to be related occurred. So Bertheau and Keil.—Tr.]
[Jdg_16:25.— åִéùַׂçֶ÷Îìָðåּ . Like the E. V., Dr. Cassel, De Wette, and Bunsen (Bibelwerk), adopt general renderings, which leave the kind of sport afforded by Samson, and the way in which he furnished it, undetermined. Bush remarks that “it is quite improbable that Samson, a poor blind prisoner, should be required actively to engage in anything that should make sport to his enemies.” But the decidedly active expression in the next clause, åַéְöַçֵ÷ ìִôְðéäֶí , can scarcely be interpreted of a mere passive submission to mockery on the part of Samson (cf. also Jdg_16:27). The word öִçֵ÷ ( ùִׂçֵ÷ is a softening of the same form) is used of mimic dances, cf. Exo_32:6; 1Sa_18:7; 2Sa_6:5; 2Sa_6:21, etc. There is surely no great improbability in supposing that the Philistines in the height of their revels should call upon “a poor, blind prisoner” to execute a dance, for their own delectation and for his deeper humiliation; while, on the other hand, Samson’s acquiescence may be explained from his desire to gain a favorable opportunity for executing his dread design. After the fatiguing dance, his request to be permitted to “lean upon” the pillars would appear very natural.—Tr.]
Jdg_16:26.— äֲîִéùֵׁðִé (instead of the erroneous Kethibh äֵéîִùֵׁðִé , from a root éָîùׁ , which does not occur): from îåּùׁ , îָùַׁùׁ , ìÜóóù , to touch; onomatopoetic, like palpare.
[Jdg_16:28.— åְàִðָּ÷ְîָä ðְ÷ַíÎàַçַú . Dr. Cassel’s rendering is very similar to that of the E. V.: Dass ich noch einmal Vergeltung nehme um meiner zwei Augen willen—“let me once more take vengeance, this time for my two eyes.” But unless ðָ÷ָí is here feminine, contrary to rule, this rendering is against the consonants, to say nothing of the vowel points. The text, as it stands, must be read: “that I be avenged with the vengeance of one (ss. eye, which is fem.) out of my two eyes.” Compare the exegesis below.—Tr.]
If Herodotus is to be believed, the Scythians blinded every slave (iv. 2). Alexander Severus is reported to have said, that whenever he saw a bad judge he felt inclined to dear his eye out with his finger (Lampridius, 17; cf Salmasius on the passage.)
Later writers, in putting king Zedekiah at the same labor, intended doubtless to conform his fate to that of Samson (cf. Ewald, Gesch. Israels, iii. 748, 2d edition).
Which fact explains the anecdote in Ælian, Variœ Historiœ, xiv. 18
As implied in the words: ἔ÷åé äÝ ôå êßïíáò , Odys., i. 53.
As Stark thinks (Gaza, p. 332) whose conception is for all that by no means clear. Nor is it necessary to suppose that the pillars were wooden posts. In a building of such size, they were most likely of stone.
Consequently, I cannot follow the unsuitable exegesis which makes Samson ask to be avenged for one of his two eyes. That would be simple vindictiveness. The îִï in îִùְּׁúֵé is comparative. He desires a vengeance greater than his two eyes, and taken on account of them. The Jewish exegesis only follows a special homiletical idea, which at bottom understands “two eyes.”
Augustine, De Civit. Dei, 1, Judges 26: Quid si enim hoc fecerunt non humanitus deceptœ sed divinitus jussœ, nec ertantes, sed obedientes, sicut de Samsone aliud nobis fas non est credere.
The occurrence in Paus. Jdg_6:9 is not well adapted to be brought into comparison.
The terrors of a similar calamity, although on a smaller scale, were experienced by King Henry, the son of Barbarossa, in 1183, when the pillars and floor of the “Probstei,” at Erfurt, gave way. Many perished. Only the king and the bishop, who sat in a niche, escaped (cf. Chron. Mont. Sereni, under 1183, p. 48, ed. Mader). On the 21st of July, 1864, one of the granite pillars, which supported the dome of the Church of the Transfiguration, at St. Petersburg, broke. A frightful catastrophe ensued, as the church crumbled to pieces over the masses whom curiosity had drawn together.
It is therefore only poetically that Milton represents Manoah as still alive at the time of Samson’s catastrophe.
In a writing against the Jews (Berlin, 1804), Samson’s action is styled “scheusslich” (abominable).
If indeed Samson be meant. Cf. Raynandi, Tituli Cultus Lugdunensis, Works, viii. 571.
Cf. Bayle, Dict. iii. 2658.