We draw a sharp distinction between history and fiction, and in the serious historian we demand fidelity to the truth as he sees it. This modern standpoint is in reality the outcome of that more scientific habit of mind which insists above all things on accurate observation of phenomena and on the subordination of theory to fact. But the duty of scientific thinking has not so very long been recognised by the human mind, and in former days many things were legitimate and natural which would not be so now. The moment we make allowance for our mental environment, we can conceive that there might be other ideas than our own as to what constitutes the use and abuse of historical records. To us the facts are primary, and the lessons they seem to teach must be accepted, whether they suit our wishes or not. But an ancient writer was not dominated by that maxim. Supposing he desired to teach that “Virtue is rewarded,” he _might_ consider that an excellent way of enforcing his theory was not only to use the narratives of the past, but to mould and modify them as best suited his object. History might be made the tool of his conviction, and the tool be shaped to assist his purpose. If it is hard for us to realise that such a procedure was legitimate _for him_, that is simply due to the difficulty we have in being anything except the children of our own age. The earliest historical records of Israel were not attempts to write a continuous history of the people, but popular tales and songs commemorating such deeds of the people or its heroes as had made a profound impression on the popular imagination. An excellent example is the famous Song of Deborah in Judges v. Records of this type were long transmitted orally, but eventually were gathered together into written collections, such as the Book of Jashar, referred to by the canonical writers (see Joshua x. 13, 2 Samuel i. 18). As national history lengthened out and State records accumulated in connection with palace and temple, the idea would finally arise of combining these with the popular memories so as to form a connected historical narrative. But the motive which prompted the formation of such accounts was not scientific interest nor even perhaps curiosity to ascertain the exact course of events, but the desire to interest, to instruct, and above all to edify contemporary thought and life. Broadly, we may distinguish two types of ancient historical writing; first, the _descriptive_ narrative in which events were recorded on account of their intense human interest, and, secondly, the _didactic_, where the older descriptive tales and any other available material were selected, related, and built into a unity in such fashion as might best serve to bring out the religious, moral, or political lessons which they seem to teach or which the writer was anxious to impress upon his generation. The books of Samuel‒Kings and of Chronicles both belong to the didactic type¹. Thus, they contain many stories (e.g.