Educated in the school of Arabic philosophers, notably under the

influence of Ibn Sina (Avicenna), Maimonides paid hero-worship to

Aristotle, the autocrat of the middle ages in the realm of speculation.

There is no question that the dominion wielded by the Greek philosopher

throughout mediaeval times, and the influence which he exercises even

now, are chiefly attributable to the Arabs, and beside them,

pre-eminently to Maimonides. For him, Aristotle was second in authority

only to the Bible. A rational interpretation of the Bible, in his

opinion, meant its interpretation from an Aristotelian point of view.

Still, he does not consider Aristotle other than a thinker like himself,

not by any means the infallible "organ of reason." The moment he

discovers that a peripatetic principle is in direct and irreconcilable

conflict with his religious convictions, he parts company with it, let

the effort cost what it may. For, above all, Maimonides was a faithful

Jew, striving to reach a spiritual conception of his religion, and to

assign to theology the place in his estimation belonging to it in the

realm of science. He stands forth as the most eminent intermediary

between Greek-Arabic thought and Christian scholasticism. A century

later, the most prominent of the schoolmen endeavored, in the same way

as Maimonides, to reconcile divine with human wisdom as manifested by

Aristotle. It has been demonstrated that Maimonides was followed by both

Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, and that the new aims of philosophy,

conceived at the beginning of the thirteenth century, are, in part, to

be traced to the influence of "Rabbi Moses of Egypt," as Maimonides was

called by the first of these two celebrated doctors of the Church.

What a marvellous picture is presented by the unfolding of the

Aristotelian idea in its passage through the ages! And one of the most

attractive figures on the canvas is Maimonides. Let us see how he

undertakes to guide the perplexed. His path is marked out for him by the

Bible. Its first few verses suffice to puzzle the believing thinker. It

says: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." What! Is this

expression to be taken literally? Impossible! To conceive of God as such

that a being can be made in His image, is to conceive of Him as a

corporeal substance. But God is an invisible, immaterial Intelligence.

Reason teaches this, and the sacred Book itself prohibits image-worship.

On this point Aristotle and the Bible are in accord. The inference is

that in the Holy Scriptures there are many metaphors and words with a

double or allegoric sense. Such is the case with the word "image." It

has two meanings, the one usual and obvious, the other figurative. Here

the word must be taken in its figurative sense. God is conceived as the

highest Reason, and as reason is the specific attribute which

characterizes the human mind, it follows that man, by virtue of his

possession of reason, resembles God, and the more fully he realizes the

ideal of Reason, the closer does he approach the form and likeness of

God. Such is Maimonides' method of reasoning. He does not build up a new

system of philosophy, he adopts an existing system. Beginning with Bible

exegesis, he leads us, step by step, up to the lofty goal at which

philosophy and faith are linked in perfect harmony.

The arguments for the existence, unity, and incorporeity of God divide

the Arabic philosophers into two schools. Maimonides naturally espoused

the view permitting the most exalted conception of God, that is, the

conception of God free from human attributes. He recognizes none but

negative attributes; in other words, he defines God by means of

negations only. For instance, asserting that the Supreme Being is

omniscient or omnipotent, is not investing Him with a positive

attribute, it is simply denying imperfection. The student knows that in

the history of the doctrine of attributes, the recognition of negative

attributes marks a great advance in philosophic reasoning. Maimonides

holds that the conception of the Deity as a pure abstraction is the only

one truly philosophic. His evidences for the existence, the

immateriality, and the unity of God, are conceived in the same spirit.

In offering them he follows Aristotle's reasoning closely, adding only

one other proof, the cosmological, which he took from his teacher, the

Arab Avicenna. He logically reaches this proof by more explicitly

defining the God-idea, and, at the same time, taking into consideration

the nature of the world of things and their relation to one another.

Acquainted with Ptolemy's "Almagest" and with the investigations of the

Arabs, he naturally surpasses his Greek master in astronomical

knowledge. In physical science, however, he gives undivided allegiance

to the Aristotelian theory of a sublunary and a celestial world of

spheres, the former composed of the sublunary elements in constantly

shifting, perishable combinations, and the latter, of the stable,

unchanging fifth substance (quintessence). But the question, how God

moves these spheres, separates Maimonides from his master. His own

answer has a Neoplatonic ring. He holds, with Aristotle, that there are

as many separate Intelligences as spheres. Each sphere is supposed to

aspire to the Intelligence which is the principle of its motion. The

Arabic thinkers assumed ten such independent Intelligences, one

animating each of the nine permanent spheres, and the tenth, called the

"Active Intellect," influencing the sublunary world of matter. The

existence of this tenth Intelligence is proved by the transition of our

own intellect from possible existence to actuality, and by the varying

forms of all transient things, whose matter at one time existed only in

a potential state. Whenever the transition from potentiality to

actuality occurs, there must be a cause. Inasmuch as the tenth

Intelligence (_Sechel Hapoel_, Active Intellect) induces form, it must

itself be form, inasmuch as it is the source of intellect, it is itself

intellect. This is, of course, obscure to us, but we must remember that

Maimonides would not have so charming and individual a personality,

were he not part and parcel of his time and the representative of its

belief. Maimonides, having for once deviated from the peripatetic

system, ventures to take another bold step away from it. He offers an

explanation, different from Aristotle's, of the creation of the world.

The latter repudiated the _creatio ex nihilo_ (creation out of nothing).

Like modern philosophers, he pre-supposed the existence of an eternal

"First substance" (_materia prima_). His Bible does not permit our rabbi

to avail himself of this theory. It was reserved for the modern

investigator to demonstrate how the Scriptural word, with some little

manipulation, can be so twisted as to be made to harmonize with the

theories of natural science. But to such trickery the pure-minded guide

will not stoop. Besides, the acceptance of Aristotle's theory would rule

out the intervention of miracles in the conduct of the world, and that

Maimonides does not care to renounce. Right here his monotheistic

convictions force him into direct opposition to the Greek as well as to

the Arabic philosophers. Upon this subject, he brooked neither trifling

nor compromise with reason. It is precisely his honesty that so exalted

his teachings, that they have survived the lapse of centuries, and

maintain a place in the pure atmosphere of modern philosophic thought.

According to Maimonides, man has absolute free-will, and God is

absolutely just. Whatever good befalls man is reward, all his evil

fortune, punishment. What Aristotle attributes to chance, and the

Mohammedan philosophers to Divine Will or Divine Wisdom, our rabbi

traces to the _merits of man_ as its cause. He does not admit any

suffering to be unmerited, or that God ordains trials merely to

indemnify the sufferer in this or the future world. Man's susceptibility

to divine influence is measured by his intellectual endowment. Through

his "intellect," he is directly connected with the "Active Intellect,"

and thus secures the grace of God, who embraces the infinite. Such views

naturally lead to a conception of life in consonance with the purest

ideals of morality, and they are the goal to which the "Guide" leads the

perplexed. He teaches that the acquiring of high intellectual power, and

the "possession of such notions as lead to true metaphysical opinions"

about God, are "man's final object," and they constitute true human

perfection. This it is that "gives him immortality," and confers upon

him the dignity of manhood.

The highest degree of perfection, according to Maimonides, is reached by

him who devotes all his thoughts and actions to perfecting himself in

divine matters, and this highest degree he calls prophecy. He is

probably the first philosopher to offer so rationalistic an explanation,

and, on that account, it merits our attention. What had previously been

regarded as supernatural inspiration, the "Guide" reduces to a

psychological theory. "Prophecy," he says, "is, in truth and reality, an

emanation sent forth by the Divine Being through the medium of the

Active Intellect, in the first instance to man's rational faculty, and

then to his imaginative faculty; it is the highest degree ... of

perfection man can attain; it consists in the most perfect development

of the imaginative faculty." Maimonides distinguishes eleven degrees of

inspiration, and three essential conditions of prophecy: 1. Perfection

of the natural constitution of the imaginative faculty, 2. mental

perfection, which may partially be acquired by training, and 3. moral

perfection. Moses arrived at the highest degree of prophecy, because he

understood the knowledge communicated to him without the medium of the

imaginative faculty. This spiritual height having been scaled, the

"Guide" needs but to take a step to reach revelation, in his estimation

also an intellectual process: man's intellect rises to the Supreme

Being.

In the third part of his work, Maimonides endeavors to reconcile the

conclusions of philosophy with biblical laws and Talmudical traditions.

His method is both original and valuable; indeed, this deserves to be

considered the most important part of his work. Detailed exposition of

his reasoning may prove irksome; we shall, therefore, consider it as

briefly as possible.

Maimonides laid down one rule of interpretation which, almost without

exception, proves applicable: The words of Holy Writ express different

sets of ideas, bearing a certain relation to each other, the one set

having reference to physical, the other to spiritual, qualities. By

applying this rule, he thinks that nearly all discrepancies between the

literal interpretation of the Bible and his own philosophic theories

disappear. Having passed over the domain of metaphysical speculation, he

finally reaches the consideration of the practical side of the Bible,

that is to say, the Mosaic legislation. These last investigations of his

are attractive, not only by reason of the satisfactory method pursued,

but chiefly from the fact that Maimonides, divesting himself of the

conservatism of his contemporaries, ventures to inquire into the reasons

of biblical laws. For many of them, he assigns local and historical

reasons; many, he thinks, owe their origin to the desire to oppose the

superstitious practices of early times and of the Sabeans, a mythical,

primitive race; but all, he contends, are binding, and with this solemn

asseveration, he puts the seal upon his completed work.

When Maimonides characterized the "Guide of the Perplexed" as "the true

science of the Bible," he formed a just estimate of his own work. It has

come to be the substructure of a rational theology based upon

speculation. Maimonides cannot be said to have been very much ahead of

his own age; but it is altogether certain that he attained the acme of

the possibilities of the middle ages. In many respects there is a

striking likeness between his life and work and those of the Arabic

freethinker Averroes, whom we now know so well through Ernest Renan.

While the Jewish theologian was composing his great work, the Arabic

philosopher was writing his "Commentaries on Aristotle." The two had

similar ends in view--the one to enthrone "the Stagirite" as the

autocrat of philosophy in the Mosque, the other, in the Synagogue. We

have noted the fact that, some centuries later, the Church also entered

the federation subject to Aristotelian rule. Albertus Magnus uses

Maimonides, Thomas Aquinas joins him, and upon them depend the other

schoolmen. Recent inquirers follow in their train. Philosophy's noblest

votary, Benedict Spinoza himself, is influenced by Maimonides. He quotes

frequently and at great length the finest passages of the "Guide."

Again, Moses Mendelssohn built his system on the foundations offered by

Maimonides, and an acute critic assures us that, in certain passages,

Kant's religious philosophy breathes the spirit of Maimonides.[40]

The "Guide of the Perplexed" did not, however, meet with so gracious a

reception in the Synagogue. There, Maimonides' philosophic system

conjured up violent storms. The whole of an epoch, that following

Maimonides' death, was absorbed in the conflict between philosophy and

tradition. Controversial pamphlets without number have come down to us

from those days. Enthusiasts eulogized, zealots decried. Maimonides'

ambiguous expressions about bodily resurrection, seeming to indicate

that he did not subscribe to the article of the creed on that subject,

caused particularly acrimonious polemics. Meir ben Todros ha-Levi, a

Talmudist and poet of Toledo, denounced the equivocation in the

following lines:

"If those that rise from death again must die,

For lot like theirs I ne'er should long and sigh.

If graves their bones shall once again confine,

I hope to stay where first they bury mine."

Naturally, Maimonides' followers were quick to retort:

"His name, forsooth, is Meir 'Shining.'

How false! since _light_ he holds in small esteem.

Our language always contrast loveth,--

Twi_light_'s the name of ev'ning's doubtful gleam."

Another of Maimonides' opponents was the physician Judah Alfachar, who

bore the hereditary title _Prince_. The following pasquinade is

attributed to him:

"Forgive, O Amram's son, nor deem it crime,

That he, deception's master, bears thy name.

_Nabi_ we call the prophet of truths sublime,

Like him of Ba'al, who doth the truth defame."

Maimonides, in his supposed reply to the Prince, played upon the word

_Chamor_, the Hebrew word for _ass_, the name of a Hivite prince

mentioned in the Bible:

"High rank, I wot, we proudly claim

When sprung from noble ancestor;

Henceforth my mule a _prince_ I'll name

Since once a prince was called _Chamor_."

It seems altogether certain that this polemic rhyming is the fabrication

of a later day, for we know that the controversies about Maimonides'

opinions in Spain and Provence broke out only after his death, when his

chief work had spread far and wide in its Hebrew translation. The

following stanza passed from mouth to mouth in northern France:

"Be silent, 'Guide,' from further speech refrain!

Thus truth to us was never brought.

Accursed who says that Holy Writ's a trope,

And idle dreams what prophets taught."

Whereupon the Provencals returned:

"Thou fool, I pray thou wilt forbear,

Nor enter on this consecrated ground.

Or trope, or truth--or vision fair,

Or only dream--for thee 'tis too profound."

The homage paid to Maimonides' memory in many instances produced most

extravagant poetry. The following high-flown lines, outraging the canons

of good taste recognized in Hebrew poetry, are supposed to be his

epitaph:

"Here lies a man, yet not a man,

And if a man, conceived by angels,

By human mother only born to light;

Perhaps himself a spirit pure--

Not child by man and woman fostered--

From God above an emanation bright."

Such hyperbole naturally challenged opposition, and Maimonides'

opponents did not hesitate to give voice to their deep indignation, as

in the following:

"Alas! that man should dare

To say, with reckless air,

That Holy Scripture's but a dream of night;

That all we read therein

Has truly never been,

Is naught but sign of meaning recondite.

And when God's wondrous deeds

The haughty scorner reads,

Contemptuous he cries, 'I trust my sight.'"

A cessation of hostilities came only in the fourteenth century. The

"Guide" was then given its due meed of appreciation by the Jews. Later,

Maimonides' memory was held in unbounded reverence, and to-day his

"Guide of the Perplexed" is a manual of religious philosophy treasured

by Judaism.

If we wish once more before parting from this earnest, noble thinker to

review his work and attitude, we can best do it by applying to them the

standard furnished by his own reply to all adverse critics of his

writings: "In brief, such is my disposition. When a thought fills my

mind, though I be able to express it so that only a single man among ten

thousand, a thinker, is satisfied and elevated by it, while the common

crowd condemns it as absurd, I boldly and frankly speak the word that

enlightens the wise, never fearing the censure of the ignorant herd."

This was Maimonides--he of pure thought, of noble purpose; imbued with

enthusiasm for his faith, with love for science; ruled by the loftiest

moral principles; full of disinterested love and the milk of human

kindness in his intercourse with those of other faiths and other views;

an eagle-eyed thinker, in whom were focused and harmoniously blended the

last rays of the declining sun of Arabic-Jewish-Spanish culture.

JEWISH TROUBADOURS AND MINNESINGERS

A great tournament at the court of Pedro I.! Deafening fanfares invite

courtiers and cavaliers to participate in the festivities. In the

brilliant sunshine gleam the lances of the knights, glitter the spears

of the hidalgos. Gallant paladins escort black-eyed beauties to the

elevated balcony, on which, upon a high-raised throne, under a gilded

canopy, surrounded by courtiers, sit Blanche de Bourbon and her

illustrious lord Dom Pedro, with Dona Maria de Padilla, the lady of his

choice, at his left. Three times the trumpets have sounded, announcing

the approach of the troubadours gathered from all parts of Castile to

compete with one another in song. Behold! a venerable old man, with

silvery white beard flowing down upon his breast, seeks to extricate

himself from the crowd. With admiring gaze the people respectfully make

way, and enthusiastically greet him: "Rabbi Don Santo! Rabbi Don Santo!"

The troubadour makes a low obeisance before the throne. Dom Pedro nods

encouragement, Maria de Padilla smiles graciously, only Dona Blanca's

pallid face remains immobile. The hoary bard begins his song:[41]

"My noble king and mighty lord,

A discourse hear most true;

'Tis Santob brings your Grace the word,

Of Carrion's town the Jew.

In plainest verse my thought I tell,

With gloss and moral free,

Drawn from Philosophy's pure well,

As onward you may see."[42]

A murmur of approval runs through the crowd; grandees and hidalgos press

closer to listen. In well-turned verse, fraught with worldly-wise

lessons, and indifferent whether his hortations meet with praise or with

censure, the poet continues to pour out words of counsel and moral

teachings, alike for king, nobles, and people.

Who is this Rabbi Don Santob? We know very little about him, yet, with

the help of "bright-eyed fancy," enough to paint his picture. The real

name of this Jew from Carrion de los Condes, a city of northern Spain,

who lived under Alfonso XI and Peter the Cruel, was, of course, not

Santob, but Shem-Tob. Under Alfonso the intellectual life of Spain

developed to a considerable degree, and in Spain, as almost everywhere,

we find Jews in sympathy with the first intellectual strivings of the

nation. They have a share in the development of all Romance languages

and literatures. Ibn Alfange, a Moorish Jew, after his conversion a high

official, wrote the first "Chronicle of the Cid," the oldest source of

the oft-repeated biography, thus furnishing material to subsequent

Spanish poets and historians. Valentin Barruchius (Baruch), of Toledo,

composed, probably in the twelfth century, in pure, choice Latin, the

romance _Comte Lyonnais, Palanus_, which spread all over Europe,

affording modern poets subject-matter for great tragedies, and forming

the groundwork for one of the classics of Spanish literature. A little

later, Petrus Alphonsus (Moses Sephardi) wrote his _Disciplina

Clericalis_, the first collection of tales in the Oriental manner, the

model of all future collections of the kind.

Three of the most important works of Spanish literature, then, are

products of Jewish authorship. This fact prepares the student to find a

Jew among the Castilian troubadours of the fourteenth century, the

period of greatest literary activity. The Jewish spirit was by no means

antagonistic to the poetry of the Provencal troubadours. In his didactic

poem, _Chotham Tochnith_ ("The Seal of Perfection," together with "The

Flaming Sword"), Abraham Bedersi, that is, of Beziers (1305), challenges

his co-religionists to a poetic combat. He details the rules of the

tournament, and it is evident that he is well acquainted with all the

minutiae of the _jeu parti_ and the _tenso_ (song of dispute) of the

Provencal singers, and would willingly imitate their _sirventes_ (moral

and political song). His plaint over the decadence of poetry among the

Jews is characteristic: "Where now are the marvels of Hebrew poetry?

Mayhap thou'lt find them in the Provencal or Romance. Aye, in Folquet's

verses is manna, and from the lips of Cardinal is wafted the perfume of

crocus and nard"--Folquet de Lunel and Peire Cardinal being the last

great representatives of Provencal troubadour poetry. Later on,

neo-Hebraic poets again show acquaintance with the regulations governing

song-combats and courts of love. Pious Bible exegetes, like Samuel ben

Meir, do not disdain to speak of the _partimens_ of the troubadours, "in

which lovers talk to each other, and by turns take up the discourse."

One of his school, a _Tossafist_, goes so far as to press into service

the day's fashion in explaining the meaning of a verse in the "Song of

Songs": "To this day lovers treasure their mistress' locks as

love-tokens." It seems, too, that Provencal romances were heard, and

their great poets welcomed, in the houses of Jews, who did not scruple

occasionally to use their melodies in the synagogue service.

National customs, then, took root in Israel; but that Jewish elements

should have become incorporated into Spanish literature is more

remarkable, may, indeed, be called marvellous. Yet, from one point of

view, it is not astonishing. The whole of mediaeval Spanish literature is

nothing more than the handmaiden of Christianity. Spanish poetry is

completely dominated by Catholicism; it is in reality only an expression

of reverence for Christian institutions. An extreme naturally induces a

counter-current; so here, by the side of rigid orthodoxy, we meet with

latitudinarianism and secular delight in the good things of life. For

instance, that jolly rogue, the archpriest of Hita, by way of relaxation

from the tenseness of church discipline, takes to composing _dansas_ and

_baladas_ for the rich Jewish bankers of his town. He and his

contemporaries have much to say about Jewish generosity--unfortunately,

much, too, about Jewish wealth and pomp. Jewish women, a Jewish

chronicler relates, are tricked out with finery, as "sumptuously as the

pope's mules." It goes without saying that, along with these accounts,

we have frequent wailing about defection from the faith and neglect of

the Law. Old Akiba is right: "History repeats itself!" ("_Es ist alles

schon einmal da gewesen!_").

Jewish Literature and Other Essays · 第 9 / 25 段