ABRAHAM IBN DAUD
What was poison to Judah Halevi is meat to Abraham Ibn Daud. We must, he
says, investigate the principles of the Jewish religion and seek to
harmonize them with true philosophy. And in order to do these things
properly a preliminary study of science is necessary. Nowadays all this
is neglected and the result is confusion in fundamental principles, for
a superficial and literal reading of the Bible leads to contradictory
views, not to speak of anthropomorphic conceptions of God which cannot
be the truth. Many of our day think that the study of philosophy is
injurious. This is because it frequently happens in our time that a
person who takes up the study of philosophy neglects religion. In
ancient times also this happened in the person of Elisha ben Abuya,
known by the name of Aher. Nevertheless science was diligently studied
in Rabbinic times. Witness what was said concerning Rabbi Yohanan ben
Zakkai, Samuel and the Synhedrin.[221] It cannot be that God meant us to
abstain from philosophical study, for many statements in the Bible, such
as those relating to freedom of the will, to the nature of God and the
divine attributes, to the creation of the world, and so on, are a direct
stimulus to such investigation. Surely mental confusion cannot be the
purpose God had in mind for us. If he preferred our ignorance he would
not have called our attention to these matters at all.[222]
This, as we see, is decidedly a different point of view from that of
Judah Halevi. The difference between them is not due to a difference in
their age and environment, but solely to personal taste and temperament.
Toledo was the birthplace of Ibn Daud as it was of Halevi. And the
period in which they lived was practically the same. Judah Halevi's
birth took place in the last quarter of the eleventh century, whereas
Ibn Daud is supposed to have been born about 1110, a difference of some
twenty-five or thirty years. The philosopher whom Judah Halevi presents
to us as the typical representative of his time is an Aristotelian of
the type of Alfarabi and Avicenna. And it is the same type of philosophy
that we meet in the pages of the "Emunah Ramah" (Exalted Faith), Ibn
Daud's philosophical work.[223] Whereas, however, Judah Halevi was a
poet by the grace of God, glowing with love for his people, their
religion, their language and their historic land, Ibn Daud leaves upon
us the impression of a precise thinker, cold and analytical. He exhibits
no graces of style, eloquence of diction or depths of enthusiasm and
emotion. He passes systematically from one point to the next, uses few
words and technical, and moves wholly in the Peripatetic philosophy of
the day. In 1161, the same year in which the Emunah Ramah was composed,
he also wrote a historical work, "Sefer Hakabala" (Book of Tradition),
which we have; and in 1180, regarded by some as the year of his death,
he published an astronomical work, which is lost. This gives an index of
his interests which were scientific and philosophic. Mysticism, whether
of the poetic or the philosophic kind, was far from his nature; and this
too may account for the intense opposition he shows to Solomon Ibn
Gabirol. On more than one occasion he gives vent to his impatience with
that poetic philosopher, and he blames him principally for two faults.
Choosing to devote a whole book to one purely metaphysical topic, in
itself not related to Judaism, Gabirol, we are told by Ibn Daud, gave
expression to doctrines extremely dangerous to the Jewish religion. And
apart from his heterodoxy, he is philosophically incompetent and his
method is abominable. His style is profuse to the point of weariness,
and his logic carries no conviction.[224]
While Abraham Ibn Daud is thus expressly unsympathetic to Gabirol and
tacitly in disagreement with Halevi (he does not mention him), he shows
the closest relation to Maimonides, whose forerunner he is. We feel
tempted to say that if not for Ibn Daud there would have been no
Maimonides. And yet the irony of history has willed that the fame of
being the greatest Jewish philosopher shall be Maimonides's own, while
his nearest predecessor, to whose influence he owed most, should be all
but completely forgotten. The Arabic original of Ibn Daud's treatise is
lost, and the Hebrew translations (there are two) lay buried in
manuscript in the European libraries until one of them was published by
Simson Weil in 1852.[225]
Abraham Ibn Daud is the first Jewish philosopher who shows an intimate
knowledge of the works of Aristotle and makes a deliberate effort to
harmonize the Aristotelian system with Judaism. To be sure, he too owes
his Aristotelian knowledge to the Arabian exponents of the Stagirite,
Alfarabi and Avicenna, rather than to the works of Aristotle himself.
But this peculiarity was rooted in the intellectual conditions of his
time, and must not be charged to his personal neglect of the sources.
And Maimonides does nothing more than repeat the effort of Ibn Daud in a
more brilliant and masterly fashion.
The development of the three religious philosophies in the middle ages,
Jewish, Christian and Mohammedan, followed a similar line of
progression. In all of them it was not so much a development from
within, the unfolding of what was implicit and potential in the original
germ of the three respective religions, as a stimulus from without,
which then combined, as an integral factor, with the original mass, and
the final outcome was a resultant of the two originally disparate
elements. We know by this time what these two elements were in each
case, Hellenic speculation, and Semitic religion in the shape of sacred
and revealed documents. The second factor was in every case complete
when the process of fusion began. Not so the first. What I mean is that
not all of the writings of Greek antiquity were known to Jew, Christian
and Mohammedan at the beginning of their philosophizing career. And the
progress in their philosophical development kept equal step with the
successive accretion of Greek philosophical literature, in particular
Aristotle's physical, psychological and metaphysical treatises, and
their gradual purgation of Neo-Platonic adhesions.
The Syrian Christians, who were the first to adopt Greek teachings, seem
never to have gone beyond the mathematical and medical works of the
Greeks and the logic of Aristotle. The Arabs began where their Syrian
teachers ended, and went beyond them. The Mutakallimun were indebted to
the Stoics,[226] the Pure Brethren to the Neo-Platonists; and it was
only gradually that Aristotle became the sole master not merely in
logic, which he always had been, but also in physics, metaphysics and
psychology. Alfarabi, Avicenna and Averroes represent so many steps in
the Aristotelization of Arabic philosophy.
Christian mediæval thought, which was really a continuation of the
Patristic period, likewise began with Eriugena in the ninth century
under Platonic and Neo-Platonic influences. Of Aristotle the logic alone
was known, and that too only in small part. Here also progress was due
to the increase of Aristotelian knowledge; though in this case it was
not gradual as with the Arabs before them, but sudden. In the latter
part of the twelfth and the early part of the thirteenth century,
through the Crusades, through the Moorish civilization in Spain, through
the Saracens in Sicily, through the Jews as translators and mediators,
Aristotle invaded Christian Europe and transformed Christian philosophy.
Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, William of Occam are the
results of this transformation.
The same thing holds true of the Jews. Their philosophizing career
stands chronologically between that of their Arab teachers and their
Christian disciples. And the line of their development was similar. It
was parallel to that of the Arabs. First came Kalam in Saadia, Mukammas,
the Karaites Al Basir and Jeshua ben Judah. Then Neo-Platonism and Kalam
combined, or pure Neo-Platonism, in Bahya, Gabirol, Ibn Zaddik and the
two Ibn Ezras, Abraham and Moses. In Judah Halevi, so far as philosophy
is represented, we have Neo-Platonism and Aristotelianism. Finally in
Ibn Daud and Maimonides, Neo-Platonism is reduced to the vanishing
point, and Aristotelianism is in full view and in possession of the
field. After Maimonides the only philosopher who deviates from the
prescribed path and endeavors to uproot Aristotelian authority in
Judaism is Crescas. All the rest stand by Aristotle and his major domo,
Maimonides.
This may seem like a purely formal and external mode of characterizing
the development of philosophical thought. But the character of mediæval
philosophy is responsible for this. Their ideal of truth as well as
goodness was in the past. Knowledge was thought to have been discovered
or revealed in the past,[227] and the task of the philosopher was to
acquire what was already there and to harmonize contradictory
authorities. Thus the more of the past literature that came to them, the
greater the transformation in their own philosophy.
The above digression will make clear to us the position of Ibn Daud and
his relation to Maimonides. Ibn Daud began what Maimonides finished--the
last stage in the Aristotelization of Jewish thought. Why is it then
that so little was known about him, and that his important treatise was
neglected and practically forgotten? The answer is to be found partly in
the nature of the work itself and partly in historical circumstances.
The greatest and most abiding interest in intellectual Jewry was after
all the Bible and the Talmud. This interest never flagged through
adversity or through success. The devotion paid to these Jewish classics
and sacred books may have been fruitful in original research and
intelligent application at one time and place and relatively barren at
another. Great men devoted to their study abounded in one country and
were relatively few in another. The nature of the study applied to these
books was affected variously by historical conditions, political and
economic; and the cultivation or neglect of the sciences and philosophy
was reflected in the style of Biblical and Talmudical interpretation.
But at all times and in all countries, under conditions of comparative
freedom as well as in the midst of persecution, the sacred heritage of
Israel was studied and its precepts observed and practiced. In this
field alone fame was sure and permanent. All other study was honored
according to the greater or less proximity to this paramount interest.
In times of freedom and of great philosophic and scientific interest
like that of the golden era in Spain, philosophical studies almost
acquired independent value. But this independence, never quite absolute,
waned and waxed with external conditions, and at last disappeared
entirely. If Ibn Daud had made himself famous by a Biblical commentary
or a halakic work, or if his philosophic treatise had the distinction of
being written in popular and attractive style, like Bahya's "Duties of
the Hearts," or Halevi's "Cusari," it might have fared better. As it is,
it suffers from its conciseness and technical terminology. Add to this
that it was superseded by the "Guide of the Perplexed" of Maimonides,
published not many years after the "Emunah Ramah," and the neglect of
the latter is completely explained.
Abraham ibn Daud tells us in the introduction to his book that it was
written in response to the question of a friend concerning the problem
of free will. The dilemma is this. If human action is determined by God,
why does he punish, why does he admonish, and why does he send prophets?
If man is free, then there is something in the world over which God has
no control. The problem is made more difficult by the fact that Biblical
statements are inconsistent, and passages may be cited in favor of
either of the theories in question. This inconsistency is to be
explained, however, by the circumstance that not all Biblical phrases
are to be taken literally--their very contradiction is a proof of this.
Now the passages which require exegetic manipulation are in general
those which seem opposed to reason. Many statements in the Bible are in
fact intended for the common people, and are expressed with a view to
their comprehension, and without reference to philosophic truth. In the
present instance the objections to determinism are much greater and more
serious than those to freedom. In order to realize this, however, it is
necessary to investigate the principles of the Jewish religion and seek
to harmonize them with true philosophy. This in turn cannot be done
without a preliminary study of science. A question like that of
determinism and freedom cannot be decided without a knowledge of the
divine attributes and the consequences flowing from them. But to
understand these we must have a knowledge of the principles of physics
and metaphysics.[228] Accordingly Abraham Ibn Daud devotes the entire
first part of the "Emunah Ramah" to general physics and metaphysics in
the Aristotelian conception of these terms.
Concerning the kind of persons for whom he wrote his book, he says, I
advise everyone who is perfectly innocent, who is not interested in
philosophical and ethical questions like that of determinism and freedom
on the ground that man cannot grasp them; and is entirely unconcerned
about his ignorance--I advise such a person to refrain from opening this
book or any other of a similar nature. His ignorance is his bliss, for
after all the purpose of philosophy is conduct. On the other hand, those
who are learned in the principles of religion and are also familiar with
philosophy need not my book, for they know more than I can teach them
here. It is the beginner in speculation who can benefit from this work,
the man who has not yet been able to see the rational necessity of
beliefs and practices which he knows from tradition.
That the principles of the Jewish religion are based upon philosophic
foundations is shown in Deuteronomy 4, 6: "Keep therefore and do them;
for this is your wisdom and your understanding in the sight of the
peoples, which shall hear all these statutes, and say, surely this great
nation is a wise and understanding people." This cannot refer to the
ceremonial precepts, the so-called "traditional" commandments; for there
is nothing in them to excite the admiration of a non-Jew. Nor can it
refer to the political and moral regulations, for one need not profess
the Jewish or any other religion in order to practice them; they are a
matter of reason pure and simple. The verse quoted can only mean that
the other nations will be seized with admiration and wonder when they
find that the fundamental principles of the Jewish religion, which we
received by tradition and without effort, are identical with those
philosophical principles at which they arrived after a great deal of
labor extending over thousands of years.[229]
Ibn Daud is not consistent in his idea of the highest aim of man. We
have just heard him say that the purpose of philosophy is conduct. This
is true to the spirit of Judaism which, despite all the efforts of the
Jewish philosophers to the contrary, is not a speculative theology but a
practical religion, in which works stand above faith. But as an
Aristotelian, Ibn Daud could not consistently stand by the above
standpoint as the last word in this question. Accordingly we find him
elsewhere in true Aristotelian fashion give priority to theoretical
knowledge.
Judging from the position of man among the other creatures of the
sublunar world, we come to the conclusion, he tells us, that that which
distinguishes him above his surroundings, namely, his rational soul, is
the aim of all the rest; and they are means and preparations for it. The
rational soul has two forms of activity. It may face upward and receive
wisdom from the angels (theoretical knowledge). Or it may direct its
attention downwards and judge the other corporeal powers (practical
reason). But it must not devote itself unduly or without system to any
one occupation. The aim of man is wisdom, science. Of the sciences the
highest and the aim of all the rest is the knowledge of God. The body of
man is his animal, which leads him to God. Some spend all their time in
feeding the animal, some in clothing it, and some in curing it of its
ills. The latter is not a bad occupation, as it saves the body from
disease and death, and so helps it to attain the higher life. But to
think of the study of medicine as the aim of life and devote all one's
time to it is doing injury to one's soul. Some spend their time in
matters even less significant than this, _viz._, in studying grammar and
language; others again in mathematics and in solving curious problems
which are never likely to happen. The only valuable part here is that
which has relation to astronomy. Some are exclusively occupied in
"twisting threads." This is an expression used by an Arabian
philosopher,[230] who compares man's condition in the world to that of a
slave who was promised freedom and royalty besides if he made the
pilgrimage to Mecca and celebrated there. If he made the journey and was
prevented from reaching the holy city, he would get freedom only; but if
he did not undertake the trip he would get nothing. The three steps in
the realization of the purpose are thus: making the preparations for the
journey, getting on the road and passing from station to station, and
finally wandering about in the place of destination. One small element
in the preparation for the journey is twisting the threads for the water
bottle. Medicine and law as means of gaining a livelihood and a
reputation represent the stage of preparing for the journey. They are
both intended to improve the ills of life, whether in the relations of
man to man as in law; or in the treatment of the internal humors as in
medicine. Medicine seems more important, for on the assumption of
mankind being just, there would be no need of law, whereas the need for
medicine would remain. To spend one's whole life in legal casuistry and
the working out of hypothetical cases on the pretext of sharpening one's
wits, is like being engaged in twisting threads continually--a little is
necessary, but a great deal is a waste of time. It would be best if the
religious man would first learn how to prove the existence of God, the
meaning of prophecy, the nature of reward and punishment and the future
world, and how to defend these matters before an unbeliever. Then if he
has time left, he may devote it to legalistic discussions, and there
would be no harm.
Self-examination, in order to purify oneself from vices great and small,
represents the second stage of getting on the road and travelling from
station to station. The final stage, arriving in the holy city and
celebrating there, is to have a perfect knowledge of God. He who attains
this is the best of wise men, having the best of knowledge, which deals
with the noblest subject. The reader must not expect to find it all in
this book. If he reads this and does not study the subject for himself,
he is like a man who spent his time in reading about medicine and cannot
cure the simplest ailment. The knowledge of God is a form that is
bestowed from on high upon the rational soul when she is prepared by
means of moral perfection and scientific study. The prophet puts all
three functions of the soul on the same level, and gives preference to
knowledge of God. "Thus saith the Lord," says Jeremiah (9, 22), "Let not
the wise man glory in his wisdom [rational soul], neither let the mighty
man glory in his might [spirited soul], let not the rich man glory in
his riches [nutritive soul]: but let him that glorieth glory in this,
that he understandeth, and knoweth me...." Jeremiah also recommends
(_ib._) knowing God through his deeds--"That I am the Lord which
exercise loving-kindness"--in order that man may imitate him.[231]
We have now a general idea of Ibn Daud's attitude and point of view; and
in passing to the details of his system it will not be necessary to
rehearse all the particulars of his thought, much of it being common to
all mediæval writers on Jewish philosophy. We shall confine ourselves to
those matters in which Ibn Daud contributed something new, not contained
in the writings of his predecessors.
Following the Aristotelian system, he begins by describing substance and
accident and gives a list and characterization of the ten categories.
This he follows up by showing that the classification of the ten
categories lies at the basis of the 139th Psalm. It needs not our saying
that it must be an extraordinary mode of exegesis that can find such
things in such unusual places. But the very strangeness of the
phenomenon bears witness to the remarkable influence exerted by the
Aristotelian philosophy upon the thinking of the Spanish Jews at that
time.[232]
From the categories he passes to a discussion of the most fundamental
concepts in the Aristotelian philosophy, matter and form. And here his
method of proving the existence of matter is Aristotelian and new. It is
based upon the discussion in Aristotle's Physics, though not necessarily
derived from there directly. Primary matter, he says, is free from all
form. There must be such, for in the change of one thing to another, of
water to air for example, it cannot be the _form_ of water that receives
the form of air; for the form of water disappears, whereas that which
receives the new form must be there. Reason therefore leads us to assume
a common substrate of all things that are subject to change. This is
primary matter, free from all form. This matter being at the basis of
all change and becoming, could not itself have come to be through a
similar process, or we should require another matter prior to it, and it
would not be the prime matter we supposed it to be. This last argument
led Aristotle to the concept of an eternal matter, the basis of becoming
for all else besides, itself not subject to any such process. It is an
ultimate, to ask for the origin of which would signify to misunderstand
the meaning of origin. All things of the sublunar world originate in
matter, hence matter itself is the unoriginated, the eternal.
Ibn Daud as a Jew could not accept this solution, and so he cut the knot
by saying that while it is true that matter cannot originate in the way
in which the composite objects of the sublunar world come to be, it does
not yet follow that it is absolutely ultimate and eternal. God alone is
the ultimate and eternal; nothing else is. Matter is a relative
ultimate; relative, that is, to the composite and changeable objects of
our world; but it is itself an effect of God as the universal cause. God
created it outright.
Prime matter, therefore, represents the first stage in creation. The
next stage is the endowment of this formless matter with corporeality in
the abstract, _i. e._, with extension. Then come the specific forms of
the four elements, then their compounds through mineral, plant and
animal to man. This is not new; we have already met with it in Gabirol
and Ibn Zaddik. Nor is the following significant statement altogether
new, though no one before Ibn Daud expressed it so clearly and so
definitely. It is that the above analysis of natural objects into
matter, universal body, the elements, and so on, is not a physical
division but a logical. It does not mean that there was a time when
prime matter actually existed as such before it received the form of
corporeality, and then there existed actually an absolute body of pure
extension until it received the four elements. No, nothing has existence
_in actu_ which has not individuality, including not only form, but also
accidents. The above analysis is theoretical, and the order of priority
is logical not real. In reality only the complete compound of matter and
form (the individual) exists.
Allusion to matter and form is also found in the Bible in Jeremiah (18,
1ff.), "Arise and go down to the potter's house.... Then I went down to
the potter's house, and, behold, he wrought his work on the wheels....
Behold as the clay in the potter's hand...."[233]
The next important topic analyzed by Ibn Daud is that of motion. This is
of especial importance to Ibn Daud because upon it he bases a new proof
of the existence of God, not heretofore found in the works of any of his
predecessors. It is taken from Aristotle's Physics, probably from
Avicenna's treatises on the subject, is then adopted by Maimonides, and
through his example no doubt is made use of by Thomas Aquinas, the great
Christian Scholastic of the thirteenth century, who gives it the most
prominent place in his "Summa Contra Gentiles."
Ibn Daud does not give Aristotle's general definition of motion as the
"actualization of the potential qua potential" (_cf._ above, p. xxxii),
but his other remarks concerning it imply it. Motion, he says, is
applied first to movement in place, and is then transferred to any
change which is gradual, such as quantitative or qualitative change.
Sudden change is not called motion. As the four elements have all the
same matter and yet possess different motions--earth and water moving
downward, fire and air upward--it cannot be the matter which is the
cause of their motions. It must therefore be the forms, which are
different in different things.
Nothing can move itself. While it is true that the form of a thing
determines the kind of motion it shall have, it cannot in itself produce
that motion, which can be caused only by an efficient cause from
without. The case of animal motions may seem like a refutation of this
view, but it is not really so. The soul and the body are two distinct
principles in the animal; and it is the soul that moves the body. The
reason why a thing cannot move itself is because the thing which is
moved is potential with reference to that which the motion is intended
to realize, whereas the thing causing the motion is actual with respect
to the relation in question. If then a thing moved itself, it would be
actual and potential at the same time and in the same relation, which is
a contradiction. The Bible, too, hints at the idea that every motion
must have a mover by the recurring questions concerning the origin of
prophetic visions, of the existence of the earth, and so on. Such are
the expressions in Job (38, 36, 37): "Who hath put wisdom in the inward
parts?" "Who can number the clouds by wisdom?" In Proverbs (30, 4): "Who
hath established all the ends of the earth?" and in many passages
besides.[234]
The question of infinity is another topic of importance for proving
the existence of God. We proceed as follows: An infinite line is an
impossibility. For let the lines _a_------------_b_ be infinite in the
_c_------|-----_d_
_e_
directions _b_, _d_. Take away from _cd_ a finite length = _ce_, and pull
up the line _ed_ so that _e_ coincides with _c_. Now if _ed_ is equal to
_ab_, and _cd_ was also equal to _ab_ by hypothesis, it follows that
_ed_ = _cd_, which is impossible, for _ed_ is a part of _cd_. If it is
shorter than _cd_ and yet is infinite, one infinite is shorter than
another infinite, which is also impossible. The only alternative left is
then that _ed_ is finite. If then we add to it the finite part _ce_, the
sum, _ce_ + _ed_ = _cd_, will be finite, and _cd_ being equal to _ab_ by
hypothesis, _ab_ is also finite. Hence there is no infinite line. If
there is no infinite line, there is no infinite surface or infinite
solid, for we could in that case draw in them infinite lines. Besides we
can prove directly the impossibility of infinite surface and solid by
the same methods we employed in line.
We can prove similarly that an infinite series of objects is also an
impossibility. In other words, infinite number as an actuality is
impossible because it is a contradiction in terms. A number of things
means a known number; infinite means having no known number. A series is
something that has beginning, middle and end. Infinite means being all
middle. We have thus proved that an actual infinite is impossible,
whether as extension or number. And the Bible also alludes to the
finiteness of the universe in the words of Isaiah (40, 12): "Who hath
measured the waters in the hollow of his hand...," intimating that the
universe is capable of being measured.
We must prove next that no finite body can have an infinite power.
For let the line _ae_ ------------- be a finite line having an infinite
_a_ _b_ _c_ _d_ _e_
power. Divide into the several parts _ab_, _be_, _cd_, _de_, etc. If
every one of the parts has an infinite power, _ab_ has an infinite
power, _ac_ a greater infinite power, _ad_ a still greater, _ae_ a still
greater, and so on. But this is absurd, for there cannot be anything
greater than the infinite. It follows then that each of the parts has a
finite power; and as the sum of finites is finite, the line _ae_ also
has a finite power. All these principles we must keep in mind, for we
shall by means of them prove later the existence and incorporeality of
God.[235]
As the concepts of physics are essential for proving the existence of
God, so are the principles of psychology of importance in showing that
there are intermediate beings between God and the corporeal substances
of the world. These are called in the Bible angels. The philosophers
call them secondary causes.
Accordingly Ibn Daud follows his physical doctrines with a discussion of
the soul. There is nothing new in his proof that such a thing as soul
exists. It is identical with the deduction of Joseph Ibn Zaddik
(_supra_, p. 134). Stone and tree and horse and man are all bodies and
yet the last three have powers and functions which the stone has not,
_viz._, nutrition, growth and reproduction. Horse and man have in
addition to the three powers above mentioned, which they have in common
with tree, the powers of sensation and motion and imagination, which
plants have not. Finally man is distinguished above all the rest of
animal creation in possessing the faculty of intelligence, and the
knowledge of art and of ethical discrimination. All these functions
cannot be body or the result of body, for in that case all corporeal
objects should have all of them, as they are all bodies. We must
therefore attribute them to an extra-corporeal principle; and this we
call soul. As an incorporeal thing the soul cannot be strictly defined,
not being composed of genus and species; but we can describe it in a
roundabout way in its relation to the body. He then gives the
Aristotelian definition of the soul as "the [first] entelechy of a
natural body having life potentially" (_cf._ above, p. xxxv).
Like many of his predecessors who treated of the soul, Ibn Daud also
finds it necessary to guard against the materialistic theory of the soul
which would make it the product of the elemental mixture in the body, if
not itself body. This would reduce the soul to a phenomenon of the body,
or in Aristotelian terminology, an accident of the body, and would
deprive it of all substantiality and independence, not to speak of
immortality. How can that which is purely a resultant of a combination
of elements remain when its basis is gone? Accordingly Ibn Daud takes
pains to refute the most important of these phenomenalistic theories,
that of Hippocrates and Galen. Their theory in brief is that the
functions which we attribute to the soul are in reality the results of
the various combinations of the four elementary qualities, hot, cold,
moist, dry. The more harmonious and equable the proportion of their
union, the higher is the function resulting therefrom. The difference
between man and beast, and between animal and plant is then the
difference in the proportionality of the elemental mixture. They prove
this theory of theirs by the observation that as long as the mixture is
perfect the activities above mentioned proceed properly; whereas as soon
as there is a disturbance in the mixture, the animal becomes sick and
cannot perform his activities, or dies altogether if the disturbance is
very great. The idea is very plausible and a great many believe it, but
it is mistaken as we shall prove.
His refutation of the "accident" or "mixture" theory of the soul, as
well as the subsequent discussion of the various functions, sensuous and
rational, of the tripartite soul, are based upon Ibn Sina's treatment of
the same topic, and we have already reproduced some of it in our
exposition of Judah Halevi. We shall therefore be brief here and refer
only to such aspects as are new in Ibn Daud, or such as we found it
advisable to omit in our previous expositions.
His main argument against the materialistic or mechanistic theory of the
soul is that while a number of phenomena of the growing animal body can
be explained by reference to the form of the mixture in the elementary
qualities, not all aspects can be thus explained. Its growth and general
formation may be the result of material and mechanical causes, but not
so the design and purpose evident in the similarity, to the smallest
detail, of the individuals of a species, even when the mixture is not
identical. There is no doubt that there is wisdom here working with a
purpose. This is soul. There is another argument based upon the visible
results of other mixtures which exhibit properties that cannot be
remotely compared with the functions we attribute to the soul. The
animal and the plant exhibit activities far beyond anything present in
the simple elements of the mixture. There must therefore be in animals
and plants something additional to the elements of the mixture. This
extra thing resides in the composite of which it forms a part, for
without it the animal or plant is no longer what it is. Hence as the
latter is substance, that which forms a part of it is also substance;
for accident, as Aristotle says, is that which resides _in_ a thing but
not as forming a part of it.
We have now shown that the soul is substance and not accident. We must
still make clear in which of the four senses of the Aristotelian
substance the soul is to be regarded. By the theory of exclusion Ibn
Daud decides that the soul is substance in the sense in which we apply
that term to "form." The form appears upon the common matter and
"specifies" it, and makes it what it is, bringing it from potentiality
to actuality. It is also the efficient and final cause of the body. The
body exists for the sake of the soul, in order that the soul may attain
its perfection through the body. As the most perfect body in the lower
world is the human body, and it is for the sake of the soul, it follows
that the existence of the sublunar world is for the sake of the human
soul, that it may be purified and made perfect by science and moral
conduct.
While we have proved that soul is not mixture nor anything like it, it
is nevertheless true that the kind of soul bestowed upon a given body
depends upon the state of the mixture in the elementary qualities of
that body. Thus we have the three kinds of soul, vegetative, animal and
human or rational. We need not follow Ibn Daud in his detailed
descriptions of the functions of the several kinds of soul, as there is
little that is new and that we have not already met in Joseph Ibn Zaddik
and Judah Halevi. Avicenna (Ibn Sina) is the common source for Halevi
and Ibn Daud, and the description of the inner senses is practically
identical in the two, with the slight difference that Halevi attributes
to the "common sense" the two functions which are divided in Ibn Daud
between the common sense and the power of representation.
The soul is not eternal. It was created and bestowed upon body. When a
body comes into being, the character of its mixture determines that a
soul of a certain kind shall be connected with it. The other
alternatives are (1) that the soul existed independently before the
body, is then connected with the body and dies with the death of the
latter; or (2) it remains after the death of the body. The first
alternative is impossible; because if the soul is connected with the
body in order to die with it, its union is an injury to the soul, for in
its separate existence it was free from the defects of matter. The
second alternative is equally impossible; for if the soul was able to
exist without the body before the appearance of the latter and after its
extinction, of what use is its connection with the body? Far from being
of any benefit, its union with the body is harmful to the soul, for it
is obliged to share in the corporeal accidents. Divine wisdom never does
anything without a purpose.
The truth is that the soul does not exist before the body. It arises at
the same time as, and in connection with body, realizing and actualizing
the latter. Seed and sperm have in them the possibility of becoming
plant and animal respectively. But they need an agent to bring to
actuality what is in them potentially. This agent--an angel or a sphere,
or an angel using a sphere as its instrument--bestows forms upon bodies,
which take the places of the previous forms the bodies had. The sphere
or star produces these forms (or souls) by means of its motions, which
motions ultimately go back to the first incorporeal mover, by whose
wisdom forms are connected with bodies in order to perfect the former by
means of the latter.
Now the human soul has the most important power of all other animals,
that of grasping intelligibles or universals. It is also able to
discriminate between good and evil in conduct, moral, political and
economic. The human soul, therefore, has, it seems, two powers,
_theoretical_ and _practical_. With the former it understands the simple
substances, known as angels in the Bible and as "secondary causes" and
"separate intelligences" among the philosophers. By this means the soul
rises gradually to its perfection. With the practical reason it attends
to noble and worthy conduct. All the other powers of the soul must be
obedient to the behests of the practical reason. This in turn is
subservient to the theoretical, putting its good qualities at the
disposition of the speculative reason, and thus helping it to come into
closer communion with the simple substances, the angels and God. This is
the highest power there is in the _world of nature_.
We must now show that the rational power in man is neither itself body
nor is it a power residing in a corporeal subject. That it is not itself
body is quite evident, for we have proved that the lower souls too,
those of animals and plants, are not corporeal. But we must show
concerning the rational power that it is independent of body in its
activity. This we can prove in various ways. One is by considering the
object and content of the reason. Man has general ideas or universal
propositions. These are not divisible. An idea cannot be divided into
two halves or into parts. Reason in action consists of ideas. Now if
reason is a power residing in a corporeal subject, it would be divisible
like the latter. Take heat as an example. Heat is a corporeal power,
_i. e._, a power residing in a body. It extends through the dimensions of
the body, and as the latter is divided so is the former. But this is
evidently not true of general ideas, such as that a thing cannot both be
and not be, that the whole is greater than its part, and so on. Hence
the rational power is independent of body.
Ibn Daud gives several other proofs, taken from Aristotle and Avicenna,
to show that reason is independent, but we cannot reproduce them all
here. We shall, however, name one more which is found in the "De Anima"
of Aristotle and is based on experience. If the reason performed its
thinking by means of a corporeal organ like the external senses, the
power of knowing would be weakened when confronted with a difficult
subject, and would thereby be incapacitated from exercising its powers
as before. This is the case with the eye, which is dazzled by a bright
light and cannot see at all, or the ear, which cannot hear at all when
deafened by a loud noise. But the case of knowledge is clearly
different. The more difficult the subject the more is the power of the
reason developed in exercising itself therein. And in old age, when the
corporeal organs are weakened, the power of reason is strongest.
Although it is thus true that the rational soul is independent of the
body, nevertheless it did not exist before the body any more than the
lower souls. For if it did, it was either one soul for all men, or there
were as many souls as there are individual men. The first is impossible;
for the same soul would then be wise and ignorant, good and bad, which
is impossible. Nor could the separate souls be different, for being all
human souls they cannot differ in essence, which is their common
humanity. But neither can they differ in accidental qualities, for
simple substances have no accidents. They cannot therefore be either one
or many, _i. e._, they cannot be at all before body.
Nor must we suppose because the reason exercises its thought functions
without the use of a corporeal organ that it appears full fledged in
actual perfection in the person of the infant. Experience teaches
otherwise. The perfections of the human soul are in the child potential.
Later on by divine assistance he acquires the first principles of
knowledge about which there is no dispute, such as that two things equal
to the same thing are equal to each other, that two contrary predicates
cannot apply to the same subject at the same time in the same relation,
and so on. Some of these are the fundamental principles of mathematics,
others of other sciences. Then he progresses further and learns to make
premises and construct syllogisms and argue from the known to the
unknown. We have thus three stages in the development of the reason. The
first potential stage is known as the _hylic_ or _potential intellect_.
The second is known as the _actual intellect_, and the third is the
_acquired intellect_. If not for the body the person could not make this
progress. For without body there are no senses, and without senses he
would not see how the wine in the barrel ferments and increases in
volume, which suggests that quantity is accident and body is substance.
Nor would he learn the distinction between quality and substance if he
did not observe a white garment turning black, or a hot body becoming
cold. There is need therefore of the body with its senses to lead to a
knowledge of the universals. But this knowledge once acquired, the soul
needs not the body for its subsequent existence; and as the soul is not
a corporeal power, the death of the body does not cause the extinction
of the soul.
Some think that because the soul is the form of the body it is dependent
upon it and cannot survive it, as no other form survives its substance.
But this inference is not valid. For if the human soul is included in
the statement that no form survives its matter, we assume what we want
to prove, and there is no need of the argument. If it is not as a matter
of fact included, because it is the question at issue, its comparison
with the other observed cases is simply a matter of opinion and not
decisive.
The reader will see that the problem of the rational soul gave Ibn Daud
much concern and trouble. The pre-existence of the soul as Plato teaches
it did not appeal to him for many reasons, not the least among them
being the statement in Genesis (2, 7), "And God breathed into his
nostrils the breath of life," which seems to favor the idea of the soul
originating with the body; though, to be sure, a harmless verse of this
kind would not have stood in his way, had he had reason to favor the
doctrine of pre-existence. Immortality was also a dogma which he dared
not deny. The arguments against it seemed rather strong. From the
doctrine of the soul's origin with the body and its being fitted to the
material composition of the latter, would seem to follow the soul's
extinction with the death of the body. The same result was apparently
demanded by the observation that the intellect develops as the body
matures, and that without the senses and their data there would be no
intellect at all. The fluctuation of intellectual strength with the
state of bodily health would seem to tend to the same end, against the
doctrine of immortality. Moreover, the Aristotelian definition of the
soul as the entelechy or form of the body, if it applies to the rational
faculty as well as to the lower powers, implies necessarily that it is a
form like other forms and disappears with the dissolution of its
substance. To avoid all these pitfalls Ibn Daud insists upon the
incorporeal character of the reason's activity, _i. e._, its independence
of any corporeal organ, and its increasing power in old age despite the
gradual weakening of the body. He admits that its development is
dependent on the data of sense perception, but insists that this is not
incompatible with its freedom from the body when fully developed and
perfected. As for its being a form of body, not all forms are alike; and
it is not so certain that the rational power is a form of body. Neither
the difficulties nor the solution are of Ibn Daud's making. They are as
old as Aristotle, and his successors grappled with them as best they
could.
There is still the question of the manner of the soul's survival. The
same reasons which Ibn Daud brings forward against the possibility of
the existence of many souls before the body, apply with equal cogency to
their survival after death. If simple substances having a common essence
cannot differ either in essence or in accident, the human souls after
the death of the body must exist as one soul, and what becomes of
_individual_ immortality, which religion promises? Ibn Daud has not a
word to say about this, and it is one of the weak points religiously in
his system as well as in that of Maimonides, which the critics and
opponents of the latter did not fail to observe.
Before leaving the problem of the soul Ibn Daud devotes a word to
showing that metempsychosis is impossible. The soul of man is suited to
the character of his elemental mixture, which constitutes the
individuality of his body. Hence every individual's body has its own
peculiar soul. A living person cannot therefore have in him a soul
which formerly resided in a different body unless the two bodies are
identical in all respects. But in that case it is not transmigration but
the re-appearance of the same person after he has ceased to be. But this
has never yet happened.
Finally Ibn Daud finds it necessary to defend the Bible against those
who criticize the Jews on the ground that there is no mention of the
future world and the existence of the soul after death in the Biblical
writings. All the rewards and punishments spoken of in the Bible, they
say, refer to this world. His answer offers nothing new. Judah Halevi
had already tried to account for this phenomenon, besides insisting that
altogether devoid of allusion to the future world the Bible is not. Ibn
Daud follows in Halevi's footsteps (_cf._ above, p. 170).[236]
Abraham Ibn Daud closes the first, the purely scientific part of his
treatise, by a discussion of the heavenly spheres and their motions. In
accordance with the view of Aristotle, which was shared by the majority
of writers throughout the middle ages, he regards the spheres with their
stars as living beings, and their motions as voluntary, the result of
will and purpose, and not simply "natural," _i. e._, due to an
unconscious force within them called nature. One of his arguments to
prove this is derived from the superiority of the heavenly bodies to our
own. Their size, their brightness and their continued duration are all
evidence of corporeal superiority. And it stands to reason that as the
human body, which is the highest in the sublunar world, has a soul that
is nobler than that of plant or animal, so the heavenly bodies must be
endowed with souls as much superior to the human intellect as their
bodies are to the human body. The Bible alludes to this truth in the
nineteenth Psalm, "The heavens declare the glory of God.... There is no
speech nor language...." The last expression signifies that they praise
God with the intellect. There are other passages in the Bible besides,
and particularly the first chapter of Ezekiel, which make it clear that
the heavenly bodies are living and intelligent beings; not, to be sure,
in the sense of taking nourishment and growing and reproducing their
kind and making use of five senses, but in the sense of performing
voluntary motions and being endowed with intellect.[237]
We have now concluded our preliminary discussion of the scientific
principles lying at the basis of Judaism. And our next task is to study
the fundamental doctrines of Jewish theology which form the highest
object of knowledge, dealing as they do with God and his attributes and
his revelation. The first thing to prove then is the existence of God,
since we cannot define him. For definition means the designation of the
genus or class to which the thing defined belongs, whereas God cannot be
put in a class. As the essence of a thing is revealed by its definition,
we cannot know God's essence and are limited to a knowledge of his
existence.
The principles for this proof we have already given. They are that a
thing cannot move itself, and that an actual infinite series is
impossible. The argument then proceeds as follows: Nothing can move
itself, hence everything that moves is moved by something other than
itself. If this is also moving, it must be moved by a third, and so on
_ad infinitum_. But an actual infinite series of things moving and being
moved is impossible, and unless we ultimately arrive at a first link in
this chain, all motion is impossible. Hence there must be a first to
account for the motion we observe in the world. This first must not
itself be subject to motion, for it would then have to have another
before it to make it move, and it would not be the first we supposed it
to be. We have thus proved, therefore, the existence of a _primum movens
immobile_, a first unmoved mover.
We must now show that this unmoved mover is incorporeal. This we can
prove by means of another principle of physics, made clear in the first
part. We showed there that a finite body cannot have an infinite power.
But God is infinite. For, being immovable, his power is not affected by
time. Hence God cannot be body.
This proof, as we said before, is new in Jewish philosophy. In Bahya we
found a proof which bears a close resemblance to this one (_cf._ above,
p. 87); but the difference is that Bahya argues from being, Ibn Daud
from motion. Bahya says if a thing is, some cause must have made it to
be, for a thing cannot make itself. As we cannot proceed _ad infinitum_,
there must be a first which is the cause of the existence of everything
else. The objection here, of course, is that if a thing cannot make
itself, how did the first come to be.
The Aristotelian proof of Ibn Daud knows nothing about the origin of
being. As far as Aristotle's own view is concerned there is no
_temporal_ beginning either of being or of motion. Both are eternal, and
so is matter, the basis of all genesis and change. God is the eternal
cause of the eternal motion of the world, and hence of the eternal
genesis and dissolution, which constitutes the life of the sublunar
world. How to reconcile the idea of eternal time and eternal motion with
the doctrine that an actual infinite is impossible we shall see when we
treat Maimondes (p. 251). Ibn Daud does not adopt eternity of motion
even hypothetically, as Maimonides does. But this merely removes the
difficulty one step. For the infinity which is regarded impossible in
phenomena is placed in God. But another more serious objection is the
adoption of an Aristotelian argument where it does not suit. For the
argument from motion does not give us a creator but a first mover. For
Aristotle there is no creator, and his proof is adequate. But for Ibn
Daud it is decidedly inadequate. We are so far minus a proof that God is
a creator _ex nihilo_. Ibn Daud simply asserts that God created matter,
but this argument does not prove it. As to the incorporeality of God
Aristotle can prove it adequately from the eternity of motion. If a
finite body (and there is no such thing as an infinite body) cannot have
an infinite power, God, whose causing eternal motion argues infinite
power, is not a body. Ibn Daud's attempt to prove God's infinity without
the theory of infinite motion on the ground that time cannot affect what
is immovable, is decidedly less satisfactory. On the whole then this
adoption of Aristotle's argument from motion is not helpful, as it leads
to eternity of matter, and God as the mover rather than the Creator.
Gersonides was frank enough and bold enough to recognize this
consequence and to adopt it. We shall see Maimonides's attitude when we
come to treat of his philosophy.
Ibn Daud may have been aware of the inadequacy of his argument from
motion, and therefore he adds another, based upon the distinction
between the "possible existent" and the "necessary existent"--a
distinction and an argument due to Alfarabi and Avicenna. A possible
existent is a thing whose existence depends upon another, and was
preceded by non-existence. It may exist or not, depending upon its
cause; hence the name _possible_ existent. A necessary existent is one
whose existence is in itself and not derived from elsewhere. It is a
necessary existent because its own essence cannot be thought without
involving existence. Now the question is, Is there such a thing as a
necessary existent, or are all existents merely possible? If all
existents are possible, we have an infinite series, every link of which
is dependent for its existence upon the link preceding it; and so long
as there is no first there is nothing to explain the existence of any
link in the chain. We must therefore assume a first, which is itself not
again dependent upon a cause prior to it. This is by definition a
necessary existent, which is the cause of the existence of everything
else. This proof is compatible with God as a Creator.
Having shown the existence and incorporeality of God we must now prove
his unity. We shall base this proof upon the idea of the necessary
existent. Such an existent cannot have in it any multiplicity; for if it
has, its own essence would not be able to keep the elements together,
and there would be need of an external agent to do this. But in this
case the object would be dependent upon something else, which is
incompatible with the idea of a necessary existent.
Nor is it possible there should be two necessary existents; for the
necessary existent, we have just shown, must be of the utmost
simplicity, and hence cannot have any attribute added to its essence.
Now if there is a second, there must be something by which the first
differs from the second, or they are identical. Either the first or the
second therefore would not be completely simple, and hence not a
necessary existent.
We have thus shown that God is one both in the sense of simple and in
the sense of unique. To have a clear insight into the nature of his
unity, we must now show that nothing else outside of God is really one,
though we apply the term one to many things. No one will claim that a
collective is one; but neither is an individual really one, for an
individual man, for example, consists of many organs. You might think
that a homogeneous and continuous elementary mass like air or water is
one. But this is not true either, for everything that is corporeal is
composed of matter and form. If then we set aside corporeal objects and
aim to find real unity in mathematical entities like line and surface,
which are not corporeal, we are met with the difficulty that line and
surface are divisible, and hence potentially multiple. But neither are
the simple intellectual substances, like the angels, true ones; for they
are composed of their own possible existence and the necessary
existence they acquire from another. The only being therefore that may
be a true one is that which is not corporeal and not dependent upon
another for its existence.
Considering the question of unity from a different aspect, in its
relation, namely, to the thing designated as one, we find that unity
never forms the essence of anything called by that name; but is in every
case an accident. Thus if it were the essence of man as man that he is
one, there could not on the one hand be many men, and on the other there
could not also at the same time be one horse, one tree, one stone. In
God his unity cannot be an accident, since as simple he has no
accidents. Hence his unity is his essence. And if we examine the matter
carefully we find that it is a negative concept. It involves two things.
First, that every other unity involves plurality in some form or
another. And second that being unlike anything else, he cannot bear
having other things associated with him to make the result many, as we
can in the case of man. A, for example, is one; and with B, C, and D he
becomes many. This is not applicable to God.[238]
The divine attributes form the next topic we must consider. Here Ibn
Daud offers little or nothing that is essentially new. He admits neither
essential nor accidental attributes, for either would bring plurality
and composition in the nature of God. The only attributes he admits are
negative and relative. When we speak of God as cause we do not place any
special entity in his essence, but merely indicate the dependence of
things upon him. The truest attributes are the negative, such as that he
is not body, that his existence is not dependent upon another, and so
on; the only difficulty being that negative attributes, though removing
many doubts, do not give us any positive information. All the
anthropomorphic attributes in the Bible endowing God with human
functions like sleeping and waking, or ascribing to him human limbs,
eyes, ears, hands, feet, etc., must be understood metaphorically. For
the Bible itself warns us against corporealizing God, "Take ye therefore
good heed unto yourselves; for ye saw no manner of form on the day that
the Lord spake unto you in Horeb" (Deut. 4, 15). When the Bible speaks
of God's anger and favor, the meaning is that good deeds bring man near
to God and cause happiness which is known as paradise ("Gan Eden"), and
bad deeds remove far away from God and lead to misfortune, called
Gehenna. It is like the apparent motion of the trees and the mountains
to the traveller, when in reality it is he that is moving. So here God
is said to approach and depart, to be angry with and favor, when in
reality it is man who by his deeds comes near to God or departs far from
him. When we assign many attributes to God we do not mean that there is
any multiplicity in his nature. This cannot be. It is like the case of a
man whose eyes are not properly co-ordinated. He sees double when there
is only one. So we too suffer from intellectual squinting, when we seem
to see many attributes in the one God.
The most common and most important attributes are the following eight:
One, existent, true, eternal, living, knowing, willing, able. It can be
easily shown (and Ibn Daud does proceed to show, though we shall not
follow him in his details) that all these are at bottom negative. Unity
means that there is nothing like him and that he is indivisible. Eternal
means he is not subject to change or motion. True means he will never
cease existing and that his existence does not come from another, and so
on with the rest.
He closes his discussion of the attributes by intimating that he has
more to say on this topic, but had better be content with what has been
said so far, for a more thorough discussion of these matters in a book
might do harm to those who do not understand and interpret the author's
words incorrectly. This reminds us of Maimonides's adjuration of the
reader to keep what he finds in the "Guide of the Perplexed" to himself
and not to spread it abroad. Philosophy clearly was a delicate subject
and not meant for intellectual babes, whose intellectual digestion might
be seriously disturbed.[239]
We have now concluded our theory of God and his attributes; and in doing
so we made use of principles of physics, such as matter and form,
potentiality and actuality, motion and infinity. The next step is to
prove the existence and nature of intermediate spiritual beings between
God and the corporeal objects of the superlunar and sublunar worlds,
called angels in the Bible, and secondary causes by the philosophers.
For this purpose we shall have to apply the principles we have proved
concerning the soul and the motions of the heavenly bodies. We have
proved above that the human soul is at first in the child intelligent
potentially and then becomes intelligent actually. This requires an
agent, in whom the end to which the potential is proceeding is always
actual. As the rational soul is neither body nor a corporeal power, this
actual agent cannot be either of these, hence it is neither a sphere nor
the soul of a sphere, but it must be a simple substance called _Active
Intellect_. The prophets call it "Holy Spirit" ("Ruah Ha-Kodesh"). We
thus have a proof of the existence of at least one such simple
intellectual substance, or angel, the relation of which to the human
soul is as that of light to vision. Without light vision is potential,
light makes it actual. So the active intellect makes the potential soul
actual and gives it first the axioms, which are universally certain, and
hence could not have originated by induction from experience.
Similarly we can prove the existence of other simple substances from the
motions of the heavenly spheres. We have already shown that the spheres
are living beings and endowed with souls. But souls, while causing
motion in their bodies are at the same time themselves in a sort of
psychic motion. This must be caused by unmoved movers, or intellects,
who are also the causes of the souls. To make this difficult matter
somewhat clearer and more plausible, we may instance an analogy from
familiar experience. A ship is made by the shipbuilder, who is its
corporeal cause. But there is also an incorporeal cause, likewise a
ship, _viz._, the ship in the mind of the shipbuilder. The analogy is
imperfect, because the incorporeal ship in the mind of the builder
cannot produce an actual corporeal ship without the builder employing
material, such as wood, iron, etc., and in addition to that expending
time and physical exertion on the material. But if he had the power to
give the form of a ship to the material as soon as the latter was
prepared for it without time and physical manipulation, we should have
an instance of what we want to prove, namely, the existence of simple
immaterial substances causing forms to emanate upon corporeal
existences. This is the nature of the active intellect in its relation
to the soul of man, and it is in the same way that the philosophers
conceive of the motions of the heavenly spheres. God is the first
unmoved mover. The angels or simple substances stand next to him; and
they, too, are always actual intelligences, and move the heavenly bodies
as the object of love and desire moves the object loving it without
itself being moved. The heavenly bodies move therefore because of a
desire to perfect themselves, or to become like unto their movers.
So far Ibn Daud agrees with the philosophers, because the doctrines so
far expounded are not incompatible with the Bible. But when the
philosophers raise the question, How can the many originate from the
One, the manifold universe from the one God, and attempt to answer it by
their theory of successive emanations, Ibn Daud calls a halt. The human
mind is not really so all-competent as to be able to answer all
questions of the most difficult nature. The doctrine of successive
emanations is that elaborated by Alfarabi and Avicenna, which we have
already seen quoted and criticized by Judah Halevi (_cf._ above, p. 178
f.). It is slightly more complicated in Ibn Daud, who speaks of the
treble nature of the emanations after the first Intelligence--an
intelligence, a soul and a sphere--whereas in Halevi's account there
were only two elements, the soul not being mentioned.[240]
We have so far dealt with the more theoretical part of theology and
religion, so much of it as may be and is accepted by nations and
religions other than Jews. It remains now to approach the more practical
and the more specifically Jewish phases of religion; though in the
purely ethical discussions and those relating to Providence we have once
more a subject of general application, and not exclusively Jewish.
As the introduction to this second part of the subject, Abraham Ibn Daud
devotes a few words to the theoretical defence of tradition, or rather
of mediate knowledge. He does so by analyzing the various kinds of
knowledge. Knowledge, he says, is either intelligible or sensible.
Sensible knowledge is either directly perceived by the subject or
received by him from another who perceived it directly, and whom he
believes or not as the case may be. That is why some things believed by
some people are not believed by others. The ignorant may think that this
weakness is inherent in matters received from others. As a matter of
fact such indirect knowledge is at the basis of civilization and makes
it possible. If every man were to judge only by what he sees with his
own eyes, society could never get along; there would be no way of
obtaining justice in court, for the judge would not put credence in
witnesses, and the parties would have to fight out their differences,
which would lead to bloodshed and the disruption of social life. The
different attitude of different persons to a given matter of belief is
due not necessarily to the uncertainty of the thing itself, but to the
manner in which the object of the belief came down to us. If a thing
rests upon the testimony of one man, its warrant is not very strong. But
if a whole nation witnessed an event, it is no longer doubtful, unless
we suppose that the account itself is due to one writer, and the event
never happened. We shall discuss these matters in the sequel.[241]
Having justified in a general way the knowledge derived from the
testimony of others by showing that society could not exist without
depending upon such knowledge; though admitting at the same time that
caution should be exercised and criticism in determining what
traditional testimony is valid or not, we now take up one of these
traditional phenomena which plays perhaps the most important rôle in
Jewish theology, namely, the phenomenon of prophecy. Before discussing
the traditional aspect of this institution and its purpose in the
history of religion we must consider it from its natural and
psychological aspect.
The explanation of Ibn Daud--it was not original with him, as we have
already seen the non-religious philosopher in Halevi's Cusari giving
utterance to the same idea, and in Jewish philosophy Israeli touches on
it--the explanation of Ibn Daud is grounded in his psychology, the
Aristotelian psychology of Avicenna. The first degree of prophecy, he
says, is found in true dreams, which happen to many people. Just as
waking is a state of the body in which it uses the external as well as
the internal senses, so sleeping is a state of the body in which the
soul suppresses the external senses by putting them to sleep, and
exercises its "natural" powers only, such as the beating of the heart
pulse, respiration, and so on. The internal senses are also at work
during sleep, or at least some of them. In particular the power of
imagination is active when the external senses are at rest. It then
makes various combinations and separations and brings them to the common
sense. The result is a dream, true or false. When the senses are weak
for one reason or another this power becomes active and, when not
controlled by the reason, produces a great many erroneous visions and
ideas, as in the delusions of the sick.
The Deity and the angels and the Active Intellect have a knowledge of
the past, present and future, and we already know that the soul, _i. e._,
the rational soul, receives influence from the Active Intellect as
a natural thing in every person. Now just as it gets from it science and
general ideas, so it may receive a knowledge of hidden things if the
soul is adequately prepared. The reason it cannot receive information of
hidden things from the Active Intellect in its waking state, is because
the soul is then busy in acquiring knowledge through the senses. In
sleep, too, it may be prevented by the thick vapors rising from the food
consumed during the day, or by anxiety due to want of food or drink. The
imagination also sometimes hinders this process by the constant
presentation of its foolish combinations to the common sense. But
sometimes this power comes under the control of the reason, and then the
rational soul is prepared to receive hidden things from the Active
Intellect. In those cases the imagination transforms these facts into
images, which are true dreams. If they concern an individual or a
particular event, we do not call them prophecy, or at least the share of
prophecy they may have is very small. We call them prophetic dreams when
they concern important matters and have reference to a whole nation or
nations, and come to pass in the distant future. An example of such a
dream is that recorded in Daniel 7, 1.
Sometimes the information comes to the prophet without the aid of an
image, when the reason prevails over the imagination, like the dream of
Abraham at the "covenant of the pieces" (Gen. 15, 12ff.). Sometimes,
also, the activity of the senses does not prevent the prophet from
seeing the hidden things of the future, and he receives prophetic
inspirations while awake. The prophet sometimes faints as he is overcome
by the unusual phenomenon, at other times he succeeds in enduring it
without swooning. All these cases can be illustrated from the Bible, and
examples will readily occur to the reader who is familiar with the
various instances and descriptions of prophetic visions and activities
in Scripture.
The purpose of prophecy is to guide the people in the right way. With
this end in view God inspires a proper man as a prophet and gives him
superior powers to perform miracles. Not every man is capable of
prophecy, only one who has a pure soul. For the most part the prophetic
gift is innate, at the same time study and good associations help to
develop this power in him who has it. Witness the "company of prophets,"
whose example inspired Saul (1 Sam. 19, 20), and Elisha as the disciple
of Elijah.
While we thus see Ibn Daud, unlike Halevi, adopting the philosophical
explanation of prophecy, which tries to bring it within the class of
natural psychological phenomena and relates it to dreams, he could not
help recognizing that one cannot ignore the supernatural character of
Biblical prophecy without being untrue to the Bible. He accordingly adds
to the above naturalistic explanation a number of conditions which
practically have the effect of taking the bottom out of the
psychological theory. If Judah Halevi insists that only Israelites in
the land of Palestine and at the time of their political independence
had the privilege of the prophetic gift, we realize that such a belief
is of the warp and woof of Halevi's innermost sentiment and thinking,
which is radically opposed to the shallow rationalism and superficial
cosmopolitanism of the "philosophers" of his day. But when the champion
of Peripateticism, Abraham Ibn Daud, after explaining that prophecy is
of the nature of true dreams, and though in most cases innate, may be
cultivated by a pure soul through study and proper associations--repeats
with Judah Halevi that the time and the place are essential conditions
and that Israelites alone are privileged in this respect, he is giving
up, it seems to us, all that he previously attempted to explain. This is
only one of the many indications which point to the essential
artificiality of all the mediæval attempts to harmonize a given system
of philosophy with a supernaturalistic standpoint, such as is that of
the Bible. It is not in this way that the Bible is to be saved if it
needs saving.[242]
The next practical question Ibn Daud felt called upon to discuss was
that of the possibility of the Law being repealed, abrogated or altered.
This he found it necessary to do in order to defend the Jewish
standpoint against that of Christianity in particular. How he will
answer this question is of course a foregone conclusion. We are only
interested in his manner of argument. He adopts a classification of long
standing of the Biblical laws into rational and traditional. The first,
he says, are accepted by all nations and can never be changed. Even a
band of thieves, who disregard all laws of right and wrong as they
relate to outsiders, must observe them in their own midst or they
cannot exist. These laws bring people of different nationalities and
beliefs together, and hence there can be no change in these. Nor can
there be any alteration in that part of the Law which is historical in
content. An event of the past cannot be repealed.
It only remains therefore to see whether abrogation may possibly be
compatible with the nature of the traditional or ceremonial laws.
Without arguing like the philosophers that change of a divine law is
incompatible with the nature of God, which is unchangeable, our sages
nevertheless have a method of explaining such phrases as, "And it
repented the Lord that he had made man" (Gen. 6, 6), so as to reconcile
the demands of reason with those of tradition. Now if there were laws of
the traditional kind stated in the Bible without any indication of time
and without the statement that they are eternal, and afterwards other
laws came to change them, we should say that the Lord has a certain
purpose in his laws which we do not know, but which is revealed in the
new law taking the place of the old. But as a matter of fact the Bible
states explicitly in many cases that the laws are not to be changed, "A
statute for ever throughout your generations" (Num. 10, 8, and
_passim_). Arguments from phrases like, "Your new moons and your
appointed feasts my soul hateth, etc." (Is. 1, 14), have no validity,
for there is no indication here that sacrifices are abolished. The
meaning of Isaiah is that sacrifices in conjunction with wrong living
are undesirable.
Our opponents also argue that Biblical expressions to the effect that
the laws are eternal prove nothing, for we know of similar instances in
which promises have been withdrawn as in the priesthood of Eli's family
and the royalty of the house of David, where likewise eternity is
mentioned. We answer these by saying, first, that in David's case the
promise was withdrawn only temporarily, and will return again, as the
Prophets tell us. Besides the promise was made only conditionally, as
was that made to Eli. But there is no statement anywhere that the Law is
given to Israel conditionally and that it will ever be taken away from
them.
The claim of those who say that the laws of the Old Testament were true,
but that they were repealed and the New Testament took its place, we
meet by pointing to a continuous tradition against their view. We have
an uninterrupted tradition during two thousand four hundred and
seventy-two years that there was a man Moses who gave a Law accepted by
his people and held without any break for two thousand four hundred and
seventy-two years. We do not have to prove he was a genuine prophet
since they do not deny it.
Some of them say that in the captivity in Babylon the old Law was
forgotten and Ezra made a new law, the one we have now. This is absurd.
The law could not have been forgotten, for the people did not all go
into captivity at one time. They were not all put to death; they were
led into exile in a quiet fashion, and there were great men among them
like Hananiah, Mishael, Azariah, Daniel and others who surely could not
have forgotten the Law. Besides Ezra could never have had the consent of
all the people scattered everywhere if he had made a law of his own. As
a matter of fact the Law as we have it is the same in all details
throughout the world.[243]
The next problem we must consider is the perennial one--the problem of
evil and of freedom. It is the purpose of the entire book, as Ibn Daud
tells us in his introduction.
The further a thing is removed from matter the more perfect is its
knowledge. For, as we have already said, it is matter that hinders
knowledge. All defect and evil is the result of the potential. Hence the
farther a thing is removed from potentiality the more perfect it is and
the freer it is from defect. God's essence is the most perfect thing
there is; and as he knows his essence, his is the most perfect
knowledge. God knows, too, that his perfection is not stationary in him,
but that it extends and communicates itself to all other things in
order. And the further a thing is from him the less is its perfection
and the greater is its imperfection. We have thus a graduated series, at
one end the most perfect being, at the other the least perfect, _viz._,
matter.
Now it is impossible from any point of view, either according to reason
or Bible or tradition, that evil or defect should come from God. Not by
reason, for two contradictories in the same subject are impossible. Now
if good and evil both came from God, he would have to be composite just
like man, who can be the cause of good and evil, the one coming from his
rational power, the other from the spirited or appetitive. But God is
simple and if evil comes from him, good cannot do so, which is absurd.
Besides, the majority of defects are privational in character and not
positive, like for example darkness, poverty, ignorance, and so on,
which are not things, but the negations of light, wealth, wisdom,
respectively. Being negative, not positive, they are not _made_ by any
body.
One may argue that it is in the nature of man that he should have
understanding and perfection; and if God deprives him of it, he does
evil. The answer is that the evil in the world is very small in
comparison with the good. For evil and defect are found only in things
composed of the elements, which have a common matter, receiving forms in
accordance with the mixture of the elementary qualities in the matter.
Here an external cause sometimes prevents the form from coming to the
matter in its perfection. The seed, for example, depends upon the
character of the soil which it finds for its growth. Now it does not
follow that God was bound to give things the highest perfection
possible. For in that case all minerals would be plants, all plants
animals, all animals men, all men angels; and there would be no world,
but only God and a few of the highest angels. In order that there shall
be a world, it was necessary to make a graduated series as we actually
have it. And as a matter of fact the very defects in the material
composites are a good when we have in view not the particular thing but
the whole. Thus if all men were of a highly intellectual type, there
would be no agriculture or manual labor.
Now there are men whose temperament is such that they cannot distinguish
between right and wrong, and they follow their inclinations. To
counteract these bad qualities God gave his commandments and warnings.
This shows that it is not impossible to oppose these evil tendencies,
for in that case the commandments would be useless. The acts of man come
neither under the category of the _necessary_, nor under that of the
_impossible_, but under the category of the _possible_.
There are two senses in which we may understand the term possible. A
thing may be possible subjectively, _i. e._, in relation to our
ignorance, though objectively it may be necessary and determined. Thus
we in Spain do not know whether the king of Babylon died to-day or not;
and so far as we are concerned, it is possible that he is dead or that
he is alive. In reality it is not a question of possibility but of
necessity. God knows which is true. The same thing applies to the
occurrence of an eclipse in the future for the man who is ignorant of
astronomy. Such possibility due to ignorance does not exist in God.
But there is another sense of the word possible; the sense in which an
event is objectively undetermined. An event is possible if there is
nothing in the previous chain of causation to determine the thing's
happening in one way rather than another. The result is then a matter of
pure chance or of absolute free will. Now God may make a thing possible
in this objective sense, and then it is possible for him also. If you
ask, but is God then ignorant of the result? We say, this is not
ignorance. For to assume that it is, and that everything should be
determined like eclipses, and that God cannot create things _possible_,
means to destroy the order of the world, of this world as well as the
next. For why shall man engage in various occupations or pursue definite
lines of conduct since his destiny is already fixed?
The truth of the matter is that there are several orders of causes. Some
are directly determined by God, and there is no way of evading them;
others are entrusted to nature, and man is able to enjoy its benefits
and avoid its injuries by proper management. A third class contains the
things of chance, and one may guard against these also. So we are bidden
in the Bible to make a parapet on the roofs of our houses to guard
against the possibility of falling down. Finally there is the fourth
class, those things which depend upon the free choice of the individual.
Right and wrong conduct are matters of choice, else there would be no
use in prophets, and no reward and punishment. When a person makes an
effort to be good, his desire increases, and he obtains assistance from
the angels.
Since freedom is supported by reason, Scripture and tradition, the
passages in the Bible which are in favor of it should be taken
literally, and those against it should be interpreted figuratively. When
the Bible says that God hardened Pharaoh's heart, it means simply that
Pharaoh was allowed to proceed as he began. All the ancient sages of our
nation were in favor of freedom.[244]
If we compare the above discussion of the problem of freedom with that
of Judah Halevi (above, p. 171), we see that Ibn Daud is more
consistent, whatever we may think of his success in solving the
insoluble problem. He frankly insists on the absolute freedom of the
will and on the reality of the objectively contingent, not shrinking
before the unavoidable conclusion that the events which are the results
of such freedom or chance are no more known beforehand to God than they
are to man. And he tries to avoid the criticism of attributing
imperfection to God by insisting that not to be able to foretell the
contingent is not ignorance, and hence not an imperfection. The reader
may think what he pleases of this defence, but there seems to be a more
serious difficulty in what this idea implies than in what it explicitly
says.
If the contingent exists for God also, it follows that he is not the
complete master of nature and the world. To say as Ibn Daud does that
God made the contingent, _i. e._, made it to be contingent, sounds like
a contradiction, and reminds one of the question whether God can make a
stone so big that he cannot lift it himself.
His proofs in favor of freedom and the contingent are partially
identical with those of Judah Halevi, but in so far as he does not
explicitly admit that the will may itself be influenced by prior causes
he evades, to be sure, the strongest argument against him, but he does
so at the expense of completeness in his analysis. Halevi is less
consistent and more thorough, Ibn Daud is more consistent, because he
fails to take account of real difficulties.
In the final outcome of their respective analyses, Halevi maintains
God's foreknowledge at the expense of absolute freedom, or rather he
does not see that his admissions are fatal to the cause he endeavors to
defend. Ibn Daud maintains absolute freedom and frankly sacrifices
foreknowledge; though his defence of freedom is secured by blinding
himself to the argument most dangerous to that doctrine.
Abraham Ibn Daud concludes his "Emunah Ramah" by a discussion of ethics
and the application of the principles thus discovered to the laws of the
Bible. He entitles this final division of his treatise, "Medicine of the
Soul," on the ground that virtue is the health of the soul as vice is
its disease. In his fundamental ethical distinctions, definitions and
classifications he combines Plato's psychology and the virtues based
thereon with the Aristotelian doctrine of the mean, which he also
applies in detail. He omits wisdom as one of the Platonic virtues and,
unlike Plato for whom justice consists in a harmony of the other three
virtues and has no psychological seat peculiar to it, Ibn Daud makes
justice the virtue of the rational soul.
The end of practical philosophy is, he says, happiness. This is
attained, first, by good morals; second, by proper family life; and
third, by means of correct social and political conduct.
The human soul consists of three principal faculties, vegetative,
animal, rational. Corresponding to these the principal virtues and vices
are also three. The vegetative power, whose functions are nourishment,
growth and reproduction, is related to appetite, and is called the
appetitive soul. The animal power as being the cause of sensation,
voluntary motion, cruelty, revenge, mercy and kindness, is called the
spirited soul, because these qualities are dependent upon the energy or
weakness of the spirit. The rational power has two aspects. One is
directed upwards and is the means of our learning the sciences and the
arts. The other aspect is directed downwards, and endeavors to control
(successfully or not as the case may be), the two lower powers of the
soul, guarding them against excess and defect. This function we call
conduct, and virtue is the mean between the two extremes of too much and
too little. The mean of the appetitive power is temperance; of the
spirited power, bravery and gentleness; of the rational soul,
justice.[245]
Justice consists in giving everything its due without excess or defect.
Justice is therefore the highest of all qualities, and is of value not
merely in a person's relations to his family and country, but also in
the relations of his powers one to another. The rational power must see
to it that the two lower faculties of the soul get what is their due, no
more and no less. This quality has an important application also in the
relations of a man to his maker. It is just that a person should requite
his benefactor as much as he received from him, if possible. If he
cannot do this, he should at least thank him. Hence the reason for
divine worship, the first of commandments. This quality, the greatest of
men possessed in the highest degree. Moses "said to him that did the
wrong, wherefore smitest thou thy fellow?" (Ex. 2, 13). And when the
shepherds came and drove away the daughters of the priest of Midian,
"Moses stood up and helped them, and watered their flock" (_ib._ 17).
This is the reason why God sent him to deliver Israel.
God showed the care he had of his nation by revealing himself to them,
and thus showing them the error of those who think that God gave over
the rule of this world to the stars, and that he and the angels have no
further interest in it. Hence the first commandment is "I am the Lord
thy God," which is followed by "You shall have no other gods," "Thou
shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain" (Ex. 20, 2ff.).
"Remember the Sabbath day" is for the purpose of condemning the belief
in the eternity of the world, as is evident from the conclusion, "For in
six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them
is...." (_ib._ 11). "Honor thy father and thy mother" (_ib._ 12) is
intended to inculcate the duty of honoring the cause of one's being,
including God. Thus the first five commandments all aim to teach the
revelation and Providence of God. The rest deal with social and
political conduct, especially the last one, "Thou shalt not covet,"
which is important in the preservation of society.
The commandment to love God involves the knowledge of God, for one
cannot love what one does not know. A man must know therefore God's
attributes and actions. He must be convinced likewise that no evil comes
from God, or he cannot love him as he should. He may fear him but not
with the proper fear. For there are two kinds of fear, and the one that
is commanded is fear of majesty and awe, not fear of punishment.
Divine service means not merely prayer three times a day, but constant
thought of God. To develop and train this thought of God in us we are
commanded to put on phylacteries and fringes, and to fasten the
"mezuzah" to our door posts. For the same reason we celebrate the
festivals of Passover, Tabernacles, Hanukkah and Purim, as a remembrance
of God's benefits to our people. All these observances are ultimately
based upon the duty of thanking our benefactor, which is part of
justice, the highest of the virtues.
Among moral virtues we are also commanded to practice suppression of
anger, and its inculcation is emphasized by making it a divine
attribute, "The Lord, the Lord, a God full of compassion and
gracious...." (Ex. 34, 6). Other virtues of the same kind are, not to
repay evil for evil, not to be jealous, to practice humility like Moses,
and so on. In fact all the virtues laid down by ethical philosophers are
found better expressed in the Bible.
In respect to family virtues, we are bidden to care for and protect the
members of our family, wife, children and slaves. Of social virtues we
have love of our neighbor, honesty in dealing, just weights and
measures, prohibition of interest and of taking a pledge from the poor,
returning a find to the loser, and a host of other teachings.
There are, however, some of the traditional laws, the purpose of which
is not known, especially the details of sacrifices and the like. In
explanation of these we must say that the law consists of a rule of life
composed of several parts. First is belief; second, moral qualities;
third, family life; fourth, social and political life; fifth, the
commandments above referred to, which we shall characterize as dictated
by divine wisdom, though we do not understand them. Not all the parts of
the Law are of the same order of value. The fundamental portion and the
most important is that dealing with belief. Next in importance are the
laws governing social and moral conduct, without which society is
impossible. That is why all nations agree about these; and there is
honesty even among thieves. The last class of commandments, whose
purpose is not known, are the least in importance, as is clear also from
statements in the Bible, such as, "I spake not unto your fathers, nor
commanded them in the day that I brought them out of the land of Egypt,
concerning burnt offerings or sacrifices...." (Jer. 7, 22). At the same
time we cannot deny that there are some reasons for their observance.
Thus sacrifice leads to repentance as a result of reflection, even if
the person does not confess his sin, as he is bidden to do in certain
cases.
In fact there is one aspect which gives this class of commandments even
greater importance than the social duties. It is the principle of
implicit obedience even when we do not see the value of the commandment.
I do not mean that a man should not study science, particularly what
concerns the knowledge of God. This is not to be recommended. But when a
man is convinced that there is such a thing as genuine prophecy, showing
God's providence, as we see in the case of Moses who delivered his
nation, performed wonders for them and was always honored and
believed--he should not balk at the acceptance of some laws given by
such a divine man simply because he does not understand them. Abraham is
a good example. For when God promised him that Isaac would become a
great nation, and then commanded him to sacrifice his only child, he did
not ask any questions and was ready to do God's behest. His example is
meant to be followed by all. This is the purpose of these subtle
commandments, which are made with wisdom. Through them we may see the
difference between belief and unbelief.[246]
The above discussion is extremely typical of the rationalistic attitude
of Ibn Daud and his school, which includes such men as Maimonides,
Gersonides and others. Reason, theory, science, explanation--these are
the important considerations in things philosophical, as well as things
religious. Theory is more important than practice, and belief stands
higher than mere conduct. No wonder that Maimonides was not satisfied
until he elaborated a creed with a definite number of dogmas. Dogmas and
faith in reason go together. It is the mystic who is impatient of
prescribed generalities, for he is constantly refreshed by the living
and ever flowing stream of individual experience. The rationalist has a
fixed unchangeable Idea or reason or method, whose reality and value
consists in its unity, permanence and immutability. In favor of this
hypostatised reason, the rationalist Ibn Daud is ready to sacrifice so
fundamental an institution as sacrifice in the face of the entire book
of Leviticus, pretending that a single verse of Jeremiah entitles him to
do so. But the Jew Ibn Daud in the end asserted himself, and he finds it
necessary to admit that in a sense these non-rational laws may be of
even greater importance than the rational; not, however, as a simple
believer might say, because we must not search the wisdom of God, but
for the reason that unreasoned obedience is itself a virtue.
In conclusion we remind the reader that Ibn Daud was the precursor of
Maimonides, touching upon, and for the most part answering every
question treated by his more famous successor. Ibn Daud was the first to
adopt Aristotelianism for the purpose of welding it with Judaism. He
showed the way to follow. Maimonides took his cue from Ibn Daud and
succeeded in putting the latter in the shade. Historic justice demands
that Ibn Daud be brought forward into the light and given the credit
which is deservedly his due.