He had reached the zenith of Israel's greatness. He had touched the highest point of its eminence. It was the golden age of the Hebrews--the age of pomp, pride, braggadocio, and exhilaration. Jerusalem became the great center of attraction. Everything obtainable was collected within its walls. No expense was spared. Indeed, the city became the center of luxury, extravagance, and licentiousness. And Solomon was surely, though slowly, paving the way for the destruction of the nation. The older he grew the worse he got. His reason gradually deserted him; he wasted his energy and his strength on his women, so that when he died he was despised, if not hated, by his people. And he left such a rotten condition of affairs that it tumbled to pieces almost before he was dead. In the course of human events, certain results follow a given line of conduct in the affairs of man. The current of events depends upon our actions, whether good or bad, better or worse. Drain or waste of force and energy, of an individual or of a collective body as a community, state, or nation, slowly but surely weakens, undermining the natural healthy condition, and ultimately leads to a breaking down, and may bring about a final disintegration. Solomon began his reign with an abundance. He had a plenty both of means and health; a most extraordinary opportunity, with an ample training and education; an immense, well-organized army; a stable, firm government, with a full quota of understanding or wisdom. As a rule men get wiser as they grow older. They acquire greater deliberation, sounder judgment, better understanding, more skill in the management of affairs, of man and of state. They are generally more conservative in their actions, more cautious in their dealings, more abstemious in their desires. Their pleasures are restricted, their passions subdued, their wants few, and their pursuits in life so evenly regulated, their conduct so accurately adjusted, that a justice and a wisdom seem to guard every thought and every reflection. Solomon's course was like that of a balloon. He started chockfull of wisdom. He was a marvel, and made a prodigious show. He was a startling phenomenon, the wonder of the age. (You know he asked God for wisdom and God gave it to him; why did not God keep him wise?) In old age he lacked wisdom. He had almost grown into a senseless imbecile. He was a squanderer of energy, a roué, a debauchee, a frivolous and licentious old man who frittered away his time and his brains on his women and their playthings. When the pomp, pride, vanity, show, and bluster of his youth and manhood were exhausted, all there was left was the remnants of a glaring painted show. He had, as it were, danced and skipped and capered, sung and spoken his lines, in a blaze of glory and extravaganza on the stage of human affairs; the curtain drops, and alas, you behold, when the paint and gorgeous dress are removed, a simpering, brainless old image-worshiper.