All that is known of the life of Bahya ben Joseph ibn Pakuda is that he lived in Spain and had the office of "Dayyan," or
judge of the Jewish community. Not even the exact time in which he lived is yet determined, though the most reliable
recent investigations make it probable that he lived after Gabirol and was indebted to the latter for some of his views in
philosophy as well as in Ethics.[106] So far as traditional data are concerned we have equally reliable, or rather equally
unreliable statements for regarding Bahya as an older contemporary of Gabirol (eleventh century), or of Abraham ibn
Ezra (1088-1167). Neither of these two data being vouched for by any but their respective authors, who lived a long time
after Bahya, we are left to such indirect evidence as may be gathered from the content of Bahya's ethical work, the
"Duties of the Hearts." And here the recent investigations of Yahuda, the latest authority on this subject and the editor of
the Arabic text of Bahya's masterpiece (1912), force upon us the conclusion that Bahya wrote after Gabirol. Yahuda has
shown that many passages in the "Duties of the Hearts" are practically identical in content and expression with similar
ideas found in a work of the Arab philosopher Gazali (1059-1111). This leaves very little doubt that Bahya borrowed from
Gazali and hence could not have written before the twelfth century.
To be sure, there are arguments on the other side, which would give chronological priority to Bahya over Gabirol, [107]
but without going into the details of this minute and difficult discussion, it may be said generally that many of the
similarities in thought and expression between the two ethical works of Gabirol and Bahya rather point in favor of the
view here adopted, namely, that Bahya borrowed from Gabirol, while the rest prove nothing for either side. In so far as a
reader of the "Duties of the Hearts" recognizes here and there an idea met with in Gabirol's "Fons Vitæ," there can
scarcely be any doubt that the latter is the more original of the two. Gabirol did not borrow his philosophy or any part
thereof from Bahya. Despite its Neo-Platonic character the "Fons Vitæ" of Gabirol is the most independent and original of
Jewish mediæval productions. The "Duties of the Hearts" owes what originality it has to its ethics, which is the chief aim
of the work, and not at all to the introductory philosophical chapter. As we shall see later, the entire chapter on the
existence and unity of God, which introduces the ethical teachings of Bahya, moves in the familiar lines of Saadia, Al
Mukammas, Joseph al Basir and the other Jewish Mutakallimun. There is besides a touch of Neo-Platonism in Bahya,
which may be due to Gabirol as well as to Arabic sources. That Bahya did not borrow more from the "Fons Vitæ" than he
did is due no doubt to the difference in temperament between the two men. Bahya is not a mystic. Filled as he is with the
spirit of piety and warmth of heart—an attitude reflected in his style, which helped to make his work the most popular
moral-religious book in Jewish literature—there is no trace of pantheism or metaphysical mysticism in his nature. His
ideas are sane and rational, and their expression clear and transparent. Gabirol's high flights in the "Fons Vitæ" have
little in common with Bahya's modest and brief outline of the familiar doctrines of the existence, unity and attributes of
God, for which he claims no originality, and which serve merely as the background for his contribution to religious ethics.
That Bahya should have taken a few leading notions from the "Fons Vitæ," such as did not antagonize his temperament
and mode of thinking, is quite possible, and we shall best explain such resemblances in this manner.
As Abraham ibn Ezra in 1156 makes mention of Bahya and his views, [108] we are safe in concluding that the "Duties of
the Hearts" was written between 1100 and 1156.
As the title of the work indicates, Bahya saw the great significance of a distinction made by Mohammedan theologians
and familiar in their ascetic literature, between outward ceremonial or observance, known as "visible wisdom" and "duties
of the limbs," and inward intention, attitude and feeling, called "hidden wisdom" and "duties of the hearts."[109] The
prophet Isaiah complains that the people are diligent in bringing sacrifices, celebrating the festivals and offering prayer
while their hands are full of blood. He informs them that such conduct is an abomination to the Lord, and admonishes
them to wash themselves, to make themselves clean, to put away the evil of their deeds from before God's eyes; to
cease to do evil; to learn to do well, to seek for justice, to relieve the oppressed, to do justice to the fatherless, to plead
for the widow (Isa. 1, 11-17). This is a distinction between duties to God and duties to one's fellow man, between
religious ceremony and ethical practice. Saadia makes a further distinction—also found in Arabic theology before him—
between those commandments and prohibitions in the Bible which the reason itself approves as right or condemns as
wrong—the rational commandments—and those which to the reason seem indifferent, and which revelation alone
characterizes as obligatory, permitted or forbidden—the so-called "traditional commandments."
Bahya's division is identical with neither the one nor the other. Ethical practice may be purely external and a matter of the
limbs, quite as much as sacrifice and ceremonial ritual. On the other hand, one may feel profoundly moved with the spirit
of true piety, love of God and loyalty to his commandments in the performance of a so-called "traditional commandment,"
like the fastening of a "mezuzah" to the door-post. Bahya finds room for Saadia's classification but it is with him of
subordinate importance, and is applicable only to the "duties of the limbs." Among these alone are there some which the
reason unaided by revelation would not have prescribed. The "duties of the heart" are all rational. Like all precepts they
are both positive and negative. Examples of positive duties of the heart are, belief in a creator who made the world out of
nothing; belief in his unity and incomparability; the duty to serve him with all our heart, to trust in him, to submit to him, to
fear him, to feel that he is watching our open and secret actions, to long for his favor and direct our actions for his name's
sake; to love those who love him so as to be near unto him, and to hate those who hate him. Negative precepts of this
class are the opposites of those mentioned, and others besides, such as that we should not covet, or bear a grudge, or
think of forbidden things, or desire them or consent to do them. The common characteristic of all duties of the heart is
that they are not visible to others. God alone can judge whether a person's feeling and motives are pure or the reverse.
That these duties are incumbent upon us is clear from every point of view. Like Saadia Bahya finds the sources of
knowledge, particularly of the knowledge of God's law and religion, in sense, reason, written law and tradition. Leaving
out the senses which are not competent in this particular case, the obligatory character of the duties of the heart is
vouched for by the other three, reason, law, tradition.
From reason we know that man is composed of soul and body, and that both are due to God's goodness. One is visible,
the other is not. Hence we are obliged to worship God in a two-fold manner; with visible worship and invisible. Visible
worship represents the duties of the limbs, such as prayer, fasting, charity, and so on, which are carried out by the visible
organs. The hidden worship includes the duties of the heart, for example, to think of God's unity, to believe in him and his
Law, to accept his worship, etc., all of which are accomplished by the thought of the mind, without the assistance of the
visible limbs.
Besides, the duties of the limbs, the obligation of which no one doubts, are incomplete without the will of the heart to do
them. Hence it follows that there is a duty upon our souls to worship God to the extent of our powers.
The Bible is just as emphatic in teaching these duties as the reason. The love of God and the fear of God are constantly
inculcated; and in the sphere of negative precepts we have such prohibitions as, "Thou shalt not covet" (Exod. 20, 17);
"Thou shalt not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge" (Lev. 19, 18); "Thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart" (ib.
17); "You shalt not go astray after your own heart" (Num. 15, 39); "Thou shalt not harden thy heart nor shut thy hand
from thy needy brother" (Deut. 15, 7), and many others.
Rabbinical literature is just as full of such precepts as the Bible, and is if possible even more emphatic in their
inculcation. Witness such sayings as the following: "Heaven regards the intention" (Sanh. 106b): "The heart and the eye
are two procurers of sin" (Jer. Berak. 1), and many others, particularly in the treatise Abot.
The great importance of these duties is also made manifest by the fact that the punishment in the Bible for unintentional
misdeeds is more lenient than for intentional, proving that for punishment the mind must share with the body in the
performance of the deed. The same is true of reward, that none is received for performing a good deed if it is not done
"in the name of heaven."
They are even more important than the duties of the limbs, for unlike the latter the obligation of the duties of the heart is
always in force, and is independent of periods or circumstances. Their number, too, is infinite, and not limited, as are the
duties of the limbs, to six hundred and thirteen.
And yet, Bahya complains, despite the great importance of these duties, very few are the men who observed them even
in the generations preceding ours, not to speak of our own days when even the external ceremonies are neglected,
much more so the class of precepts under discussion. The majority of students of the Torah are actuated by desire for
fame and honor, and devote their time to the intricacies of legalistic discussion in Rabbinic literature, and matters
unessential, which are of no account in the improvement of the soul; but they neglect such important subjects of study as
the unity of God, which we ought to understand and distinguish from other unities, and not merely receive parrot fashion
from tradition. We are expressly commanded (Deut. 4, 39), "Know therefore this day, and reflect in thy heart, that the
Eternal is the God in the heavens above, and upon the earth beneath: there is none else." Only he is exempt from
studying these matters whose powers are not adequate to grasp them, such as women, children and simpletons.
Moreover Bahya is the first, he tells us, among the post-Talmudical writers, to treat systematically and ex professo this
branch of our religious duties. When I looked, he says, into the works composed by the early writers after the Talmud on
the commandments, I found that their writings can be classified under three heads. First, exposition of the Torah and the
Prophets, like the grammatical and lexicographical treatises of Ibn Janah, or the exegetical works of Saadia. Second,
brief compilations of precepts, like the works of Hefez ben Yazliah and the responsa of some geonim. Third, works of a
philosophico-apologetic character, like those of Saadia, Al Mukammas and others, whose purpose it was to present in an
acceptable manner the doctrines of the Torah, to prove them by logical demonstration, and to refute the criticisms and
erroneous views of unbelievers. But I have not seen any book dealing with the "hidden wisdom."[110]
Here we see clearly the purpose of Bahya. It is not the rationalization of Jewish dogma that he is interested in, nor the
reconciliation of religion and philosophy. It is the purification of religion itself from within which he seeks to accomplish.
Sincerity and consistency in our words and our thoughts, so far as the service of God is concerned, is the fundamental
requirement and essential value of the duties of the heart. To be sure this cannot be attained without intelligence. The
knowledge of God and of his unity is a prerequisite for a proper understanding and an adequate appreciation of our
religious duties. Philosophy therefore becomes a necessity in the interest of a purer and truer religion, without reference
to the dangers threatening it from without.
Having found, he continues in the introduction to the "Duties of the Hearts," that all the three sources, reason, Bible and
tradition, command this branch of our religious duties, I tried to think about them and to learn them, being led from one
topic to another until the subject became so large that I feared I could not contain it all in my memory. I then determined
to write the subject down systematically in a book for my own benefit as well as for the benefit of others. But I hesitated
about writing it on account of my limitations, the difficulty of the subject and my limited knowledge of Arabic, the language
in which I intended writing it because the majority of our people are best familiar with it. But I thought better of it and
realized that it was my duty to do what I could even if it was not perfect; that I must not yield to the argument springing
from a love of ease and disinclination to effort; for if everyone were to abstain from doing a small good because he
cannot do as much as he would like, nothing would ever be done at all.
Having decided to compose the work, he continues, I divided the subject into ten fundamental principles, and devoted a
section of the book to each principle. I endeavored to write in a plain and easy style, omitting difficult expressions,
technical terms and demonstrations in the manner of the dialecticians. I had to make an exception in the first section
dealing with the existence and unity of God, where the sublet of the subject required the employment of logical and
mathematical proofs. For the rest I made use of comparisons or similes, adduced support from the Bible and tradition,
and also quoted the sages of other nations.[111]
We have already seen in the introduction that Bahya was indebted for his ideas to the ascetic and Sufic literature of the
Arabs, and Yahuda, who is the authority in this matter of Bahya's sources, has shown recently that among the quotations
of the wise men of other nations in Bahya's work are such as are attributed by the Arabs to Jesus and the gospels, to
Mohammed and his companions, to the early caliphs, in particular the caliph Ali, to Mohammedan ascetics and Sufis.[112]
In selecting the ten general and inclusive principles, Bahya lays down as the first and most fundamental the doctrine of
the deity, or as it is called in the works of the Kalam, the Unity. As God is a true unity, being neither substance nor
accident, and our thought cannot grasp anything except substance or accident, it follows that we cannot know God as he
is in himself, and that we can get a conception of him and of his existence from his creatures only. The second section is
therefore devoted to an examination of creation. Then follow in order sections treating of the service of God, trust in God,
action for the sake of God alone, submission to God, repentance, self-examination, separation from the pleasures of the
world, love of God.
In his discussion of the unity of God, Bahya follows the same method as Saadia, and the Kalam generally, i. e., he first
proves that the world must have been created; hence there must be a creator, and this is followed by a demonstration of
God's unity. The particular arguments, too, are for the most part the same, as we shall see, though differently expressed
and in a different order. The important addition in Bahya is his distinction between God's unity and other unities, which is
not found so strictly formulated in any of his predecessors, and goes back to Pseudo-Pythagorean sources in Arabian
literature of Neo-Platonic origin.
In order to prove that there is a creator who created the world out of nothing we assume three principles. First, nothing
can make itself. Second, principles are finite in number, hence there must be a first before which there is no other. Third,
every composite is "new," i. e., came to be in time, and did not exist from eternity.
Making use of these principles, which will be proved later, we proceed as follows: The world is composite in all its parts.
Sky, earth, stars and man form a sort of house which the latter manages. Plants and animals are composed of the four
elements, fire, air, water, earth. The elements again are composed of matter and form, or substance and accident. Their
matter is the primitive "hyle," and their form is the primitive form, which is the root of all forms, essential as well as
accidental. It is clear therefore that the world is composite, and hence, according to the third principle, had its origin in
time. As, according to the first principle, a thing cannot make itself, it must have been made by some one. But as, in
accordance with the second principle, the number of causes cannot be infinite, we must finally reach a first cause of the
world before which there is no other, and this first made the world out of nothing.
Before criticising this proof, from which Bahya infers more than is legitimate, we must prove the three original
assumptions.
The proof of the first principle that a thing cannot make itself is identical in Bahya with the second of the three
demonstrations employed by Saadia for the same purpose. It is that the thing must either have made itself before it
existed or after it existed. But both are impossible. Before it existed it was not there to make itself; after it existed there
was no longer anything to make. Hence the first proposition is proved that a thing cannot make itself.
The proof of the second proposition that the number of causes cannot be infinite is also based upon the same principle
as the fourth proof in Saadia for the creation of the world. The principle is this. Whatever has no limit in the direction of
the past, i. e., had no beginning, but is eternal a parte ante, cannot have any stopping point anywhere else. In other
words, we as the spectators could not point to any definite spot or link in this eternally infinite chain, because the chain
must have traversed infinite time to reach us, but the infinite can never be traversed. Since, however, as a matter of fact
we can and do direct our attention to parts of the changing world, this shows that the world must have had a beginning.
A second proof of the same principle is not found in Saadia. It is as follows: If we imagine an actual infinite and take away
a part, the remainder is less than before. Now if this remainder is still infinite, we have one infinite larger than another,
which is impossible. If we say the remainder is finite, then by adding to it the finite part which was taken away, the result
must be finite; but this is contrary to hypothesis, for we assumed it infinite at the start. Hence it follows that the infinite
cannot have a part. But we can separate in thought out of all the generations of men from the beginning those that lived
between the time of Noah and that of Moses. This will be a finite number and a part of all the men in the world. Hence,
as the infinite can have no part, this shows that the whole number of men is finite, and hence that the world had a
beginning.
This proof is not in Saadia, but we learn from Maimonides ("Guide of the Perplexed," I, ch. 75) that it was one of the
proofs used by the Mutakallimun to prove the absurdity of the belief in the eternity of the world.
The third principle is that the composite is "new." This is proved simply by pointing out that the elements forming the
composite are prior to it by nature, and hence the latter cannot be eternal, for nothing is prior to the eternal. This
principle also is found in Saadia as the second of the four proofs in favor of creation.[113]
We have now justified our assumptions and hence have proved—what? Clearly we have only proved that this composite
world cannot have existed as such from eternity; but that it must have been composed of its elements at some point in
time past, and that hence there must be a cause or agency which did the composing. But there is nothing in the
principles or in the demonstration based upon them which gives us a right to go back of the composite world and say of
the elements, the simple elements at the basis of all composition, viz., matter and form, that they too must have come to
be in time, and hence were created out of nothing. It is only the composite that argues an act of composition and
elements preceding in time and by nature the object composed of them. The simple needs not to be made, hence the
question of its having made itself does not arise. It was not made at all, we may say, it just existed from eternity.
The only way to solve this difficulty from Bahya's premises is by saying that if we suppose matter (or matter and form as
separate entities) to have existed from eternity, we are liable to the difficulty involved in the idea of anything having
traversed infinite time and reached us; though it is doubtful whether unformed matter would lend itself to the experiment
of abstracting a part as in generations of men.
Be this as it may, it is interesting to know that Saadia having arrived as far as Bahya in his argument was not yet
satisfied that he proved creation ex nihilo, and added special arguments for this purpose.
Before proceeding to prove the unity of God, Bahya takes occasion to dismiss briefly a notion which scarcely deserves
consideration in his eyes. That the world could have come by accident, he says, is too absurd to speak of, in view of the
evidence of harmony and plan and wisdom which we see in nature. As well imagine ink spilled by accident forming itself
into a written book.[114] Saadia also discusses this view as the ninth of the twelve theories of creation treated by him,
and refutes it more elaborately than Bahya, whose one argument is the last of Saadia's eight.
In the treatment of creation Saadia is decidedly richer and more comprehensive in discussion, review and argumentation.
This was to be expected since such problems are the prime purpose of the "Emunot ve-Deot," whereas they are only
preparatory, though none the less fundamental, in the "Hobot ha-Lebabot," and Bahya must have felt that the subject
had been adequately treated by his distinguished predecessor. It is the more surprising therefore to find that in the
treatment of the unity of God Bahya is more elaborate, and offers a greater variety of arguments for unity as such.
Moreover, as has already been said before, he takes greater care than anyone before him to guard against the
identification of God's unity with any of the unities, theoretical or actual, in our experience. There is no doubt that this
emphasis is due to Neo-Platonic influence, some of which may have come to Bahya from Gabirol, the rest probably from
their common sources.
We see, Bahya begins his discussion of the unity of God, that the causes are fewer than their effects, the causes of the
causes still fewer, and so on, until when we reach the top there is only one. Thus, the number of individuals is infinite,
the number of species is finite; the number of genera is less than the number of species, until we get to the highest
genera, which according to Aristotle are ten (the ten categories). Again, the causes of the individuals under the
categories are five, motion and the four elements. The causes of the elements are two, matter and form. The cause of
these must therefore be one, the will of God. (The will of God as immediately preceding universal matter and form
sounds like a reminiscence of the "Fons Vitæ".)
God's unity is moreover seen in the unity of plan and wisdom that is evident in the world. Everything is related to,
connected with and dependent upon everything else, showing that there is a unitary principle at the basis.
If anyone maintains that there is more than one God, the burden of proof lies upon him. Our observation of the world has
shown us that there is a God who made it; hence one, since we cannot conceive of less than one; but why more than
one, unless there are special reasons to prove it?
Euclid defines unity as that in virtue of which we call a thing one. This means to signify that unity precedes the unitary
thing by nature, just as heat precedes the hot object. Plurality is the sum of ones, hence plurality cannot be prior to unity,
from which it proceeds. Hence whatever plurality we find in our minds we know that unity precedes it; and even if it
occurs to anyone that there is more than one creator, unity must after all precede them all. Hence God is one.
This argument is strictly Neo-Platonic and is based upon the idealism of Plato, the notion that whatever reality or
attributes particular things in our world of sense possess they owe to the real and eternal types of these realities and
attributes in a higher and intelligible (using the term in contradistinction to sensible) world in which they participate. In so
far as this conception is applied to the essences of things, it leads to the hypostatization of the class concepts or
universals. Not the particular individual whom we perceive is the real man, but the typical man, the ideal man as the mind
conceives him. He is not a concept but a real existent in the intelligible world. If we apply it also to qualities of things, we
hypostatize the abstract quality. Heat becomes really distinct from the hot object, existence from the existent thing,
goodness from the good person, unity from the one object. And a thing is existent and one and good, because it
participates in Existence, Unity and Goodness. These are rea