With Maimonides we reach the high water mark of mediæval Jewish philosophy. He was by far the most comprehensive
mind of mediæval Jewry, and his philosophy was the coping stone of a complete system of Judaism. In his training and
education he embraced all Jewish literature, Biblical and Rabbinic, as well as all the science and philosophy of his day.
And his literary activity was fruitful in every important branch of study. He was well known as a practicing physician,
having been in the employ of the Caliph's visier at Cairo (Fostat), and he wrote on medical theory and practice. He was
versed in mathematics and astronomy, and his knowledge of these subjects served him in good stead not merely as an
introduction to theology and metaphysics, but was of direct service in his studies and writings on the Jewish calendar. It
goes without saying that he knew logic, for this was the basis of all learning in mediæval times; but in this branch, too,
Maimonides has left us a youthful treatise,[247] which bears witness to his early interest in science and his efforts to
recommend its study as helpful to a better understanding of Jewish literature.
But all these activities and productions were more or less side issues, or preparations for a magnum opus, or rather
magna opera. From his youth we can trace the evident purpose, not finally completed until toward the end of his brilliant
and useful career,—the purpose to harmonize Judaism with philosophy, to reconcile the Bible and Talmud with Aristotle.
He was ambitious to do this for the good of Judaism, and in the interest of a rational and enlightened faith. Thus in his
commentary on the Mishna,[248] the earliest of his larger works, he had already conceived the idea of writing a
composition of a harmonizing nature, viz., to gather all the homiletical disquisitions of the Talmud (the "derashot") and
explain them in a rationalistic manner so as to remove what appears on the surface to be offensive to sound reason. But
instead of proceeding at once to the performance of this cherished object of his philosophic ambition, he kept it in his
bosom, brooding over it during a life of intense literary and practical activity, until it was in the end matured and brought
to fruition in a manner quite different from that at first intended. The book explanatory of the Rabbinic legends was given
up for reasons which will appear later. But the object that work was to realize was carried out in a much more effective
manner because it was delayed, and was published toward the end of his life as the systematic and authoritative
pronouncement of the greatest Jew of his time. The "Guide of the Perplexed" would not have attracted the attention it
did, it would not have raised the storm which divided Jewry into two opposed camps, if it had not come as the mature
work of the man whom all Jewry recognized as the greatest Rabbinic authority of his time. Others had written on
philosophy before Maimonides. We have in these pages followed their ideas—Saadia, Gabirol, Ibn Zaddik, Abraham Ibn
Daud. The latter in particular anticipated Maimonides in almost all his ideas. None had the effect of upsetting the
theological equilibrium of Jewry. Everyone had his admirers, no doubt, as well as his opponents. Gabirol was forgotten,
Ibn Zaddik and Ibn Daud were neglected, and Jewish learning continued the even tenor of its course. Maimonides was
the first to make a profound impression, the first who succeeded in stirring to their depths the smooth, though here and
there somewhat turbid, Rabbinic waters, as they flowed not merely in scientific Spain and Provence, or in the Orient, but
also in the strictly Talmudic communities of northern France. It was the Commentary on the Mishna and the Talmudic
code known as the "Yad ha-Hazaka" that was responsible for the tremendous effect of the "More Nebukim" ("Guide of
the Perplexed").
In these two Rabbinical treatises, and particularly in the "Yad ha-Hazaka," the Rabbinic Code, Maimonides showed
himself the master of Rabbinic literature. And all recognized in him the master mind. Having been written in Hebrew the
Code soon penetrated all Jewish communities everywhere, and Maimonides's fame spread wherever there were Jews
engaged in the study of the Talmud. His fame as a court physician in Egypt and as the official head of Oriental Jewry
enhanced the influence of his name and his work. Jealousy no doubt had its share in starting opposition to the Code
itself even before the publication of the "Guide," and during the lifetime of its author. When the "More Nebukim" was
translated from the original Arabic into Hebrew, so that all could read it, and Maimonides was no longer among the living,
the zealots became emboldened and the storm broke, the details of which, however, it is not our province to relate.
For completeness' sake let us set down the facts of his life. Moses ben Maimon was born in the city of Cordova on the
fourteenth of Nissan (30th of March) at one o'clock in the afternoon, on a Sabbath which was the day before Passover,
in the year 1135. It is not often that the birth of a mediæval Jewish writer is handed down with such minute detail. Usually
we do not even know the year, to say nothing of the day and the hour. Cordova had long fallen from its high estate. It
was no longer the glorious city of the days before the Almoravid conquest. And it was destined to descend lower still
when the fanatical hordes of the Almohades renewed the ancient motto of the early Mohammedan conquerors, "The
Koran or the Sword."
Maimonides was barely thirteen when his native city fell into the hands of the zealots from Morocco, and henceforth
neither Jew nor Christian dared avow his faith openly in Cordova. Adoption of Islam, emigration or death were the
choices held out to the infidel. Many Jews adopted the dominant faith outwardly—that was all that was demanded of
them—while in the secret of their homes they observed Judaism. Some emigrated, and among them was the family of
Moses' father. For a time they wandered about from city to city in Spain, and then crossed over to Fez in Morocco. This
seems to us like going from the frying pan into the fire, for Fez was the lion's den itself. The conquerors of Cordova came
from Morocco. And there seems to be some evidence too that the Maimon family had to appear outwardly as
Mohammedans. Be that as it may, Maimonides did not stay long in Fez. On the 18th of April, 1165, the family set sail for
Palestine, and after a month's stormy voyage they arrived in Acco. He visited Jerusalem and Hebron, but did not find
Palestine a promising place for permanent residence and decided to go to Egypt. He settled in Old Cairo (Fostat), and
with his brother David engaged in the jewel trade. His father died soon after, and later his brother met an untimely death
when the ship on which he was a passenger on one of his business trips was wrecked in the Indian Ocean. Thereafter
Maimonides gave up the jewel business and began to practice medicine, which at first did not offer him more than the
barest necessities. But in the course of time his fame spread and he was appointed physician to Saladin's grand visier
Alfadhil. He was also made spiritual head[C] of the Jews of Egypt, and what with his official duties as court physician,
leader of the Jewish community, practicing physician among the people, and his literary activities, Jewish and secular,
Rabbinical and scientific, he was a busy man indeed; so much so that he dissuades Samuel Ibn Tibbon, the translator of
the "Guide," from paying him a visit on the ground that he would scarcely have time to spare to see him, much less to
enter into scientific discussions with him.[249] Maimonides died on Monday, December 13 (20 Tebeth), 1204.
The philosophy of Maimonides is contained in the "Guide of the Perplexed," his last great work, which was published in
Arabic in 1190.[250] Some philosophic and ethical material is also found in the introductory chapters of his commentary
on the Mishnaic treatise "Abot" (the so-called "Eight Chapters"—"Shemonah Perakim"),[251] in the introduction to the
eleventh chapter (Helek) of the Talmudic treatise "Sanhedrin," and in the introductory sections of the Code ("Hilkot
Yesode ha-Torah" and "Hilkot Deot"). Here, however, the treatment is popular and elementary, and is intended for
popular consumption. He lays down results in their simplest form without discussing their origin or the arguments pro and
con. The "Guide of the Perplexed," on the other hand, is intended for a special class of persons, for the sophisticated; for
those who are well trained in science and philosophy, not to speak of Bible and Talmud, and are as a result made
uneasy by the apparent disagreement of philosophical teaching with the ideas expressed in the Biblical and Rabbinic
writings. His purpose is deliberately apologetic and concordistic. The work is not a treatise of science or philosophy. The
latter are presupposed. He introduces philosophic principles, Aristotelian or Kalamistic, only with a view to their relation
to Jewish theology. And he either accepts them, provisionally or absolutely, if he regards them as proven, as true and
useful; or he refutes and rejects them if untenable. In the former case he shows by proper interpretation that similar
principles are taught in Bible and Talmud; in the latter he contents himself by proving that Aristotle or the Mutakallimun,
as the case may be, did not prove their point.
His method, in general, of quieting the doubts of the "perplexed" is the old one—as old as Philo and beyond—of
regarding Biblical phrases as metaphors and allegories, containing an esoteric meaning beside or opposed to the literal.
Accordingly he lays the greatest stress on the explanation of Scriptural "homonyms," as he calls them, borrowing an
Aristotelian term. A homonym is a word which has more than one meaning; a word which denotes several things having
nothing in common. Thus when I apply the word dog to the domestic animal we know by that name, as well as to Sirius,
known as the dog-star, I use dog as a homonym. The star and the animal have nothing in common. So the word
"merciful," one of the attributes of God in the Bible, is a homonym. That is, we denote by the same word also a quality in
a human being; but this quality and that which is denoted by the same word when applied to God have nothing in
common. They are not merely different in degree but in kind. In fact, as Maimonides insists, there is really nothing in God
corresponding to the word merciful.
There are besides certain passages in the Bible which while having an acceptable meaning when taken literally, contain
besides a deeper signification which the practiced eye can detect. Thus in the description of the harlot in the seventh
chapter of Proverbs there is beside the plain meaning of the text, the doctrine of matter as the cause of corporeal
desires. The harlot, never faithful to one man, leaving one and taking up with another, represents matter which, as
Aristotle conceives it, never is without form and constantly changes one form for another.
There is really nothing new in this, and Philo apart, whom Maimonides did not know, Ibn Daud anticipated Maimonides
here also in making use of the term "homonym" as the basis of this method of interpretation.[252] But whereas Ibn Daud
relegates the chapter treating of this principle to a subordinate place, his interest being as he tells us primarily ethical—to
solve the problem of free will; Maimonides places it in the very centre of his system. The doctrine of attributes as leading
to a true conception of God,—of God as absolutely incorporeal and without any resemblance or relation whatsoever to
anything else—is the very keystone of Maimonides's philosophical structure. His purpose is to teach a spiritual
conception of God. Anything short of this is worse than idolatry. He cannot reconcile the Bible to such a view without this
"homonymic" tool. Hence the great importance of this in his system; and he actually devotes the greater part of the first
book of the "Guide" to a systematic and exhaustive survey of all terms in the Bible used as homonyms.[253] All this is
preparatory to his discussion of the divine attributes.
This consideration will account also for the fact that, systematic and logical thinker as he was, he perpetrates what might
appear at first sight as a logical blunder. Instead of first proving the existence of God and then discussing his nature and
attributes, as Saadia, Bahya, Ibn Daud and others did before him, he treats exhaustively of the divine attributes in the
first book, whereas the proof of the existence of God does not appear until the second book. This inversion of the logical
order is deliberate. Maimonides's method is directed ad hominem. The Jews for whom he wrote his "Guide" did not doubt
the existence of God. But a great many of them had an inadequate idea of his spiritual nature. And apparently the Bible
countenanced their anthropomorphism. Hence Maimonides cast logical considerations to the wind, and dealt first with
that which was nearest to his heart. The rest could wait, this could not.
I promised in my commentary on the Mishna, he tells us in the introduction to the "Guide," to explain the allegories and
"Midrashim" in two works to be entitled "The Book of Reconciliation" and "The Book of Prophecy." But after reflecting on
the matter a number of years I decided to desist from the attempt. The reasons are these. If I expressed my explanations
obscurely, I should have accomplished nothing by substituting one unintelligible statement for another. If, on the other
hand, I were really to make clear the matters that require explanation, the result would not be suitable for the masses, for
whom those treatises were intended. Besides, those Midrashim when read by an ignorant man are harmless because to
such a person nothing is impossible. And if they are read by a person who is learned and worthy, one of two things is
likely to happen. Either he will take them literally and suspect the author of ignorance, which is not a serious offence; or
he will regard the legendary statements as containing an esoteric meaning and think well of the author—which is a good
thing, whether he catch the meaning intended or not. Accordingly I gave up the idea of writing the books mentioned. In
this work I am addressing myself to those who have been philosophizing; who are believers in the Bible and at the same
time know science; and are perplexed in their ideas on account of the homonymous terms.
Having made clear Maimonides's chief interest and purpose in his masterpiece we need not follow his own method of
treatment, which often gives the impression of a studied attempt to conceal his innermost ideas from all but the initiated.
At least he is not willing that anyone who has not taken the trouble carefully to study and scrutinize every chapter and
compare it with what precedes and follows, should by a superficial browsing here and there arrive at an understanding of
the profound problems treated in the work. He believes that the mysterious doctrines passing by the name of "Maase
Bereshit" and "Maase Merkaba" in the Talmud ( cf. Introduction, p. xvi) denote respectively Physics and Metaphysics—
the very sciences of which he treats in the "Guide." Accordingly he tells us that following the instructions of the Rabbis he
must not be expected to give more than bare allusions. And even these are not arranged in order in the book, but
scattered and mixed up with other subjects which he desires to explain. For, as he says, "I do not want to oppose the
divine intention, which concealed the truths of his being from the masses."
"You must not suppose," he continues, "that these mysteries are known to anybody completely. By no means. But
sometimes the truth flashes upon us and it is day; and then again our natural constitution and habits shut them out, and
we are again in darkness. The relative proportion of light and darkness which a person enjoys in these matters, makes
the difference in the grade of perfection of great men and prophets. The greatest of the prophets had comparatively little
if any darkness. With those who never see light at all, namely the masses of the people, we have nothing to do in this
book."
Finally he adjures the reader not to explain to anyone else the novel ideas found in his work, which are not contained in
the writings of his predecessors. Heaven knows, he exclaims, I hesitated long before writing this book, because it
contains unknown matters, never before treated by any Jewish writer in the "Galut." But I relied on two Rabbinic
principles. One is that when it is a question of doing something for a great cause in a critical time, it is permitted to
transgress a law. The other is the consciousness that my motives are pure and unselfish. In short, he concludes, I am the
man who, when he finds himself in a critical position and cannot teach truth except by suiting one worthy person and
scandalizing ten thousand fools, chooses to say the truth for the benefit of the one without regard for the abuse of the
great majority.
As we are not bound by Maimonides's principle of esoterism and mystery, nor are we in fear of being an offence and a
stumbling block to the fools, we shall proceed more directly in our exposition of his philosophy; and shall begin with
Maimonides's general ideas on the need of science for intelligent faith and the relation thereto of Jewish history and
literature.
The highest subject of study is metaphysics or theology, the knowledge of God (cf. below, p. 285). This is not merely not
forbidden in the Bible, but it is directly commanded. When Moses says, "That I may know thee, to the end that I may find
grace in thy sight" (Exod. 33, 13), he intimates that only he finds favor with God who knows him, and not merely who
fasts and prays.[254] Besides, the commandment, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God," cannot be fulfilled without a study
and understanding of the whole of nature.[255] Thus, as we shall see, it is only by a study of physics that we come to
understand that affection is a defect and must therefore be removed from the conception of God. The same thing applies
to the ideas of potentiality and actuality. We should not know what they signify without a study of physics, nor should we
understand that potentiality is a defect and hence not to be found in God. It is therefore a duty to study both physics and
metaphysics for a true knowledge of God.[256] At the same time we must recognize that human reason has a limit and
that there are matters which are beyond its ken. Not to realize this and to deny what has not been proved impossible is
dangerous, and may lead a man astray after the imagination and the evil desires which quench the light of the intellect.
And it is this the Bible and the Rabbis had in mind in such passages as, "Hast thou found honey? eat so much as is
sufficient for thee; lest thou be filled therewith, and vomit it" (Prov. 25, 16); or in the following from the Mishna, "Whoever
pries into four things, had better not come into the world, viz., what is above and what is below, what was before and
what will be after" (Hagigah, ch. 2). The meaning is not, as some fools think, that the Rabbis forbid the use of the reason
entirely to reach what is in its power. It is abuse of the reason that they prohibit, and neglect of the truth that the human
reason has a limit.[257]
Accordingly while the study of metaphysics and the explanation of the allegories of Scripture are thus shown to be a
necessity of intelligent belief, it is not proper to begin with these difficult subjects. One must first be mature intellectually
and possessed of the preliminary sciences. Otherwise the study of metaphysics is likely not merely to confuse the mind
in its belief, but to destroy belief entirely. It is like feeding an infant on wheat bread and meat and wine. These are not
bad in themselves, but the infant is not prepared to digest them. That is why these matters are given in the Bible in the
form of allegories, because the Bible is intended for all—men, women and children—not because metaphysical ideas are
injurious in themselves, as some fools imagine, who believe they are wise men. For beginners it is sufficient that they
have the right view by tradition and know the existence of certain beings, without being able to prove the opinions they
hold, or to understand the essence of the being in the existence of which they believe. This they will acquire gradually if
they are capable.[258]
There are five causes preventing the study of metaphysics on the part of the general masses. First, the difficulty of the
subject itself. Second, the limitations of all people's minds at the beginning. Third, the great amount of preparatory
training that is necessary, and which everybody is not ready to undertake, however eager he may be to know the results.
And to study metaphysics without preliminary training is worse than not to study it at all. For there is nothing in existence
except God and his creation. To know God's existence and what is and is not proper to ascribe to him we must examine
his creation; and thus arithmetic, the nature of number, and the properties of geometrical figures help us a great deal in
determining what attributes are inapplicable to God. Even much more important for metaphysics is the study of spherical
astronomy and physics, which throw light on the relation of God to the world. Then there are some theoretical topics
which, while not directly of help in metaphysics, are useful in training the mind and enabling it to know what is true
demonstration. One who wishes therefore to undertake the study of metaphysics, must first study logic, then the
mathematical sciences in order, then physics, and not until he has mastered all these introductory branches should he
take up metaphysics. This is too much for most people, who would die in the midst of their preparatory studies, and if not
for tradition would never know whether there is a God or not, not to speak of knowing what attributes are applicable to
him and what are not.
The fourth cause which keeps people away from the study of metaphysics is their natural disposition. For it has been
shown that intellectual qualities are dependent upon moral; and the former cannot be perfect unless the latter are. Now
some persons are temperamentally incapable of right thinking by reason of their passionate nature; and it is foolish to
attempt to teach them, for it is not medicine or geometry, and not everybody is prepared for it. This is the reason, too,
why young men cannot study it, because of the passions which are still strong in them. Finally as a fifth reason, the
necessities of the body and its luxuries, too, stand in the way of a person's devoting enough time and attention to this
subject.[259]
Like many others before him, Christians as well as Jews, Maimonides also believed that in ancient times the Jews
diligently cultivated the sciences, which were gradually forgotten on account of foreign domination. Maimonides adds
another reason for their disappearance, namely, that they were not disseminated abroad. They were confined to a select
few and were not put down in writing but handed down by word of mouth. As a result only a few hints are found in the
Talmud and Midrashim, where the kernel is small and the husk large, so that people mistake the husk for the kernel.[260]
He then traces the history of philosophical thinking in Jewish mediæval literature from the time of the Geonim, and tells
us that the little that is found of the Kalam concerning the Unity of God and related topics in the works of some of the
Geonim and the Karaites in the East is borrowed from the Mutakallimun of the Mohammedans and constitutes a small
fraction of the writings of the latter on this subject. The first attempt in this direction among the Moslems was that of the
party known as the Muʿtazila, whom our people followed. Later came the party of the Ashariya with different opinions
which, however, were not adopted by any of our people. This was not due, he tells us, to a deliberate decision in favor of
the Muʿtazila, but solely to the historical accident of their chronological priority. On the other hand, the Spanish Jews of
Andalusia adopted the views of the philosophers, i. e., the Aristotelians, so far as they are not in conflict with our religion.
They do not follow the Mutakallimun, and hence what little of the subject is found in the works of the later writers of this
class resembles our own method and views.[261]
There seems no doubt that whatever other Spanish writers Maimonides had in mind, whose works are not extant, his
characterization fits admirably the "Emunah Ramah" of Abraham Ibn Daud (cf. above, p. 217), and in a less degree it is
also true of Ibn Gabirol, Bahya, Judah Halevi, Moses and Abraham Ibn Ezra. Bahya as we saw above (p. 86) still retains
a good deal of Kalamistic material and so does Ibn Zaddik (p. 126). As for Mukammas, Saadia and the two Karaites Al
Basir and Jeshua ben Judah, we have seen (pp. 17, 24, 48, 56) that they move wholly in the ideas of the Mutakallimun. It
becomes of great interest for us therefore to see what Maimonides thinks of these Islamic theologians, of their origins, of
their methods and of their philosophical value. Maimonides's exposition and criticism of the principles of the Mutakallimun
is of especial interest, too, because up to recent times his sketch of the tenets of this school was the only extensive
account known; and it has not lost its value even yet. We shall, however, be obliged to abridge his detailed exposition in
order not to enlarge our volume beyond due limits. Besides, there is no occasion for repeating what we have already
said of the Kalam in our Introduction (p. xxi ff.); though the account there given was not taken from Maimonides and does
not follow his order.
Maimonides is aware that the Arabs are indebted to the