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SOLOMON 3.IAIMON.*

IT is certainly, as Dr. Clark Murray himself observes, a very strange thing that this fascinating piece of autobiography, which has been in existence something like ninety years, should never have been translated into English till now. George Eliot had seen Solomon lifaimores Lebensgeschichte, and Dean Milman seems to have come upon extracts from it ; but it has evidently been a rare book, not frequently met with by the English students of German literature, and Dr. Clark Murray has had the rare good fortune of first presenting this singularly vivid book in an English translation as pure and lively as if it were an original, and an original by a classic English writer. When we call Solomon Maimon's autobiography fascinating, we do not mean to say that the hero of it had in any respect an ideal character. 'A sceptical Rabbi, a great Talmudist who despised the Talmud, an omni- vorous reader of all such science as in the last century a Polish Jew (with no language but Hebrew at his command till he was nearly middle-aged) could get hold of, a genuine idler in literature who, though he could dash off a considerable spell of work in a short time, had no method in him, and always preferred slipshod effort to steady industry, a man whom want and misery had seduced into spasmodic fits of in- temperance, which rather grew upon him towards the end, Solomon Maimon could no more pretend to a high character than our own Steele or Savage. Indeed, he made acquaintance with a deeper shade of degradation, in the conventional sense of the word, than any of the Bohemians of our English litera- ture, for Maimon spent nearly half a year of his life as a beggar of the most miserable class, being taught by his companion,— a professional beggar,—to give at least the impression that he cursed all who refused him alms, and not having made, apparently, during that time, the smallest effort to distinguish himself in either occupation or aim from the poor mendicant with whom he associated. It is plain that he was tolerably well accustomed to the lowest forms of physical wretchedness, and that he was more or less impatient of the habits and manners of gentlemen, which kept him under a restraint that was sometimes irksome to him. None the less he was a man of remarkable acquirements, being a learned Talmudist, for those times at least a not inconsiderable mathematician, and having in middle life mastered Latin, German, French, and English, besides the various Eastern dialects of which his Hebrew know- ledge was the foundation. He had evidently a very great turn for physics, as well as for mathematics, and a wonderful capacity for the acquisition of languages without the slightest communication with those who could speak them, so that he Iniew a language fairly well of which he could not properly pronounce a single sentence. In character, too, Maimon was a Bohemian. He was candid, grateful, and generous, and full

• Solomon Maimon : an Autobiography. Translated from the German, with Additions and Notes by J. Clerk Murray. LL.D.. Professor of Mental and Moral Philesopby, F.R.S.A., Worn College. Montreal. Paisley and London: Alexander Gardner.

of kindly feelings. But he was conceited, irreverent, pas- sionate, intolerant of the influence of others, and never really at ease among the class for which his knowledge fitted him. The study of the Talmud, too, which he began so early, thoroughly unfitted him for feeling the least respect for the element of authority in religion. The enormous mass of worthless refinements which it was the great merit of a. learned Talmudist to invent, and the importance attached to purelynominal distinctions, soon turned him into an assailant of religious authority and dogma, which he did his best throughout his life to overthrow. While, therefore, he had some of the outward habits of a great Talmudist, his whole nature received from his Talmudic studies the sceptical bent by which his opinions throughout life were marked.

What makes the autobiography so interesting is its singular candour and simplicity. Married at the age of eleven, when he was already "a full Rabbi," and a father at fourteen,. Solomon Maimon lived fast. He was even more a child than_ a bridegroom when his bride outwitted him, and when he out- witted his mother-in-law, as he thus naively tells us :—

" Here I must mention a little anecdote. I had read in a Hebrew book of an approved plan for a husband to secure lordship over his better half for life. He was to tread on her foot at the marriage ceremony ; and if both hit on the stratagem, the first to succeed would retain the upper hand. Accordingly, when my bride and I were placed side by side at the ceremony this trick occurred to me, and I said to myself, Now you must not let the opportunity pass of securing for your whole lifetime lordship over your wife. I was just going to tread on her foot, but a certain lens sais quoi, whether fear, shame, or love, held me back. While I was in this irresolute state, all at once I felt the slipper of my wife on my foot with such an impression that I should almost have screamed aloud if I had not been checked by shame. I took this for a bad omen and said to myself, Providence has destined you to be the slave of your wife, you must not try to slip out of her fetters. From my faint- heartedness and the heroic mettle of my wife, the reader may easily conceive why this prophecy had to be actually realised. I stood, however, not only under the slipper of my wife, but—what was very much worse—under the lash of my mother-in-law. Nothing of all that she had promised was fulfilled. Her house,. which she had settled on her daughter as a dowry, was burdened with debt. Of the six years' board which she had promised me, r enjoyed scarcely half a year's, and this amid constant brawls and squabbles. She even, trusting to my youth and want of spirit,. ventured now and then to lay hands on me, but this I repaid not infrequently with compound interest. Scarcely a meal passed during which we did not fling at each other's head, bowls, plates, spoons, and similar articles. Once I came home from the academy extremely hungry. As my mother-in-law and wife were occupied. with the business of the public-house, I went myself into the room where the milk was kept ; and as I found a dish of curds and cream, I fell upon it, and began to oat. My mother-in-law came as I was thus occupied, and screamed in rage, You are not going to devour the milk with the cream !' The more cream the better, thought I, and went on eating, without disturbing myself by her cry. She was going to wrest the dish forcibly from my hands, beat me with her fists, and let me feel all her ill-will. Exasperated by such treatment, I pushed her from me, seized the dish, and smashed it on her head. That was a sight ! The curds ran down. all over her. She seized in rage a piece of wood, and if I had not cleared out in all haste, she would certainly have beat me to death. Scenes like this occurred very often. At such skirmishes of course my wife had to remain neutral, and whichever party gained the upper hand, it came home to her very closely. 'Oh!' she often complained, if only the one or the other of you had a little more patience !' Tired of a ceaseless open war I once hit upon a. stratagem, which had a good effect for a short time at least. I rose about midnight, took a large vessel of earthenware, crept with it under my mother-in-law's bed, and began to speak aloud into the vessel after the following fashion 0 Rissia, Rissia, you ungodly woman, why do you treat my beloved son so ill P If you do not mend your ways, your end is near, and you will be damned to all eternity.' Then I crept out again, and began to pinch her cruelly; and after a while I slipped silently back to bed. The fol- lowing morning she got up in consternation, and told my wife,. that my mother had appeared to her in a dream, and had threatened and pinched her on my account. In confirmation she showed the blue marks on her arm. When I came from the synagogue, I did not find my mother-in-law at home, but found my wife in tears. I asked the reason, but she would tell me nothing. My mother-in- law returned with dejected look, and eyes red with weeping. She had gone, as I afterwards learned, to the Jewish place of burial, thrown herself on my mother's grave, and begged for forgiveness of her fault. She then had the burial place measured, and ordered a wax-light as long as its circumference, for burning in the syna- gogue. She also fasted the whole day, and towards me showed herself extremely amiable. I knew, of course, what was the cause of all this, but acted as if I did not observe it, and rejoiced in secret over the success of my stratagem. In this manner I had peace for

some time, but unfortunately it did not last long. The whole was soon forgotten again, and on the slightest occasion the dance went on as before."

Maim on had always a great contempt for the conventions of the world, whether those of the Rabbinical caste or those of the social world in which he lived. But he had too much of

the spirit of philosophy in him not to detect in himself the same weaknesses which he ridiculed in others, and he relates with great freshness and force the manner in which he ex- horted himself and his friend Lapidoth not to let themselves be taken in by self-love when they instituted comparisons between their own manner of life and that of other people :—

" Once when we were taking a walk on the wall round the town I said to Lapidoth, Friend, let us be fair, and pass our censure on ourselves, as well as on others. Is not the contem- plative life which we lead, and which is by no means adapted to our circumstances, to be regarded as a result of our indolence and inclination to idleness, which we seek to defend by reflections on the vanity of all things ? We are content with our present cir- cumstances; why ? Because we cannot alter them without first fighting against our inclination to idleness. With all our pretence of contempt for everything outside of us, we cannot avoid the secret wish to be able to enjoy better food and clothing than at - present. We reproach our friends as vain men addicted to the pleasures of sense, because they have abandoned our mode of life, and undertaken occupations adapted to their powers. But wherein consists our superiority over them, when we merely follow our inclination as they follow theirs ? Let us seek to find this superiority merely in the feet, that we at least confess this truth to ourselves, while they profess as the motive of their actions, not the satisfaction of their own particular desires, but the impulse to general utility.' Lapidoth, on whom my words produced a power- ful impression, answered with some warmth, 'Friend, you are perfectly right. If we cannot now mend our faults, we will not deceive ourselves about them, but at least keep the way open for amendment.' " It is curious to observe how, when Maimon had thrown off his faith in Judaism, and found that he could not,—con- sistently with his own habits of thought and convictions,— make his living as a Rabbi, he proposed to himself to become a Christian without professing to believe Christian dogma, on the ground that, as the end of all religion is action, and as Christianity is a much greater power in action than Judaism,

he might reasonably join the Christian Church for the sake of the practical advantage it would give him in acting upon men, even though he could not believe Christian dogma in any sense except that of symbol and allegory :—

"It occurred to me, therefore, that for me there was no alterna- tive left, but to embrace the Christian religion, and get myself baptised in Hamburg. Accordingly, I resolved to go to the first clergyman I should come upon, and inform him of my resolution, as well as of my motives for it, without any hypocrisy, in a truth- ful and honest fashion. But as I could not express myself well orally, I put my thoughts into writing in German with Hebrew characters, went to a schoolmaster, and got him to copy it in German characters. The purport of my letter was, in brief, as follows I am a native of Poland, belonging to the Jewish nation, destined by my education and studies to be a rabbi ; but in the thickest darkness I have perceived some light. This in- duced me to search further after light and truth, and to free myself completely from the darkness of superstition and ignorance. In order to this end, which could not be attained in my native place, I came to Berlin, where by the support of some enlightened men of our nation I studied for some years,—not indeed after any plan, but merely to satisfy my thirst for knowledge. But as our nation is unable to use, not only such planless studies, but even those conducted on the moat perfect plan, it cannot be blamed for becoming tired of them, and pronouncing their encouragement to be useless. I have therefore resolved, in order to secure tem- poral as well as eternal happiness, which depends on the attain- ment of perfection, and in order to become useful to myself as well as others, to embrace the Christian religion. The Jewish religion, it is true, comes, in its articles of faith, nearer to reason than Christianity. But in practical use the latter has an advan- tage over the former ; and since morality, which consists not in opinions but in actions, is the aim of all religion in general, clearly the latter comes nearer than the former to this aim. Moreover, I hold the mysteries of the Christian religion for that which they are, that is, allegorical representations of the truths that are most important for man. By this means I make my faith in them har- monise with reason, but I cannot believe them according to their common meaning. I beg therefore most respectfully an answer to the question, whether after this confession I am worthy of the Christian religion or not. In the former case I am ready to carry my proposal into effect ; but in the latter, I must give up all claim to a religion which enjoins me to lie, that is, to deliver a confession of faith which contradicts my reason.' The schoolmaster, to whom I dictated this, fell into astonishment at my audacity ; never before had he listened to such a confession of faith. He shook his head with much concern, interrupted the writing several times, and became doubtful, whether the mere copying was not itself a sin. With great reluctance he copied it out, merely to get rid of the thing. I went then to a prominent clergyman, delivered my letter, and begged for a reply. He read it with great attention, fell like- wise into astonishment, and on finishing entered into conversation with me. So,' he said, I see your intention is to embrace the Christian religion, merely in order to improve your temporal cir- cumstances.'—' Excuse me, Herr Pastor,' I replied, I think I have made it clear enough in my letter, that my object is the attain- ment of perfection. To this, it is true, the removal of all hindrances and the improvement of my external circumstances form an indispensable condition. But this condition is not the chief end.'—' But,' said the pastor, do you not feel any inclination of the soul to the Christian religion without reference to any external motives ?'—' I should be telling a lie, if I were to give you an affirmative answer.'—' You are too much of a philosopher,' replied the pastor, to be able to become a Christian. Reason has taken the upper hand with you, and faith must accommodate itself to reason. You hold the mysteries of the Christian religion to be mere fables, and its commands to be mere laws of reason. For the present I cannot be satisfied with your confession of faith. You should therefore pray to God, that He may enlighten you with His graze, and endow you with the spirit of true Christianity ; and then come to me again.'—' If that is the case,' I said, then I must confess, Herr Pastor, that I am not qualified for Christianity. Whatever light I may receive, I shall always nmke it luminous with the light of reason. I shall never believe that I have fallen upon new truths, if it is impossible to see their connection with the truths already known to me. I must therefore remain what I am,—a stiffnecked Jew. My religion enjoins me to believe nothing, but to think the truth and to practise goodness. If I find any hindrance in this from external circumstances, it is not my fault. I do all that lies in my power.' With this I bade the pastor good-bye."

That reads quite like the suggestion of a modern sceptic that he is willing to sign any number of articles or creeds presented to him, on condition that he may take these acts of subscription as meaning no more than this, that he accepts the creeds subscribed as embodying generally a great practical system which he wishes to see adapted to the exigencies of modern needs and modern assumptions. Maimon would have subscribed the Thirty-nine Articles as cheerfully as any Oxford luminary during those days, not so long passed, when that requisition was the accepted mode of compelling a great heresiarch either to break with Oxford or to give a nominal assent to what he certainly did not believe. But Maimon, unlike some Oxford luminaries, was quite determined to explain exactly how little in his case the nominal act of assent really meant. Whatever else he did, he never condescended to subterfuge. He had a great intellectual pride of his own, in spite of all his Bohemianism and reck- lessness of life.

Maimon, though he took the most sceptical view of Kant's philosophy, accepting both Kant's and Hume's principles, and, in fact, holding Hume's vie, as it were, behind Kant's view,— by which we mean that while he accepted Kant's account of our a priori conceptions, he accepted it as describing a purely subjective habit of thought which had no root in the reality of things,—earned the highest possible praise from Kant by the acuteness of his criticism on the .Pure Reason of the German metaphysician. "None of my opponents," said Kant, speaking of Maimon's criticism, "had understood me and the main problem so well." Indeed, Kant added, "very few could claim so much penetration as Herr Maimon in pro- found inquiries of this sort." This was a great testimonial for Maimon, and, indeed, his mind seems to have been exactly adapted to enter into the transcendental philosophy with the view of showing it to have been a grand subjective illusion. But ill-regulated as was Maimon's mind and whole habit of life, there was something noble and generous in him to the end, and the pathetic account given by a Protestant pastor, Herr Tscheggey, of the last conversation he held with him in 1800, a few hours before his death, will fitly close our account of this learned intellectual vagabond, with his noble but wasted faculties and his vagrant aspirations :— " I am sorry to find you so ill to-day, dear Maimon,' said the pastor.—' There will perhaps be some improvement yet,' replied Maimon.—' You look so ill,' his friend proceeded, 'that I am doubtful about your recovery.'—' What matters it after all ?' said Daimon. When I am dead, I am gone.'—' Can you say that, dear friend?' rejoined the clergyman, with deep emotion. 'How ? Your mind, which amid the most unfavourable circumstances ever soared to higher attainments, which bore such fair flowers and fruits—shall it be trodden in the dust along with the poor covering in which it has been clothed ? Do you not feel at this moment that there is something in you which is not body, not matter, not subject to the conditions of space and time ?'—' Ah !' replied Maimon, these are beautiful dreams and hopes—'--' Which will surely be fulfilled,' his friend broke in ; and then, after a short pause, added, Yon maintained not long ago that here we cannot reach further than to mere legality. Let this be admitted; and now perhaps you are about to pass over soon into a condition in which you will rise to the stage of morality, since you and all of us have a natural capacity for it. Why ? Should you not wish now to come into the society of one whom you honoured se much as Mendelssohn ?'—The zealous pastor says he gave the conversation this turn on purpose, in order to touch this side of the philosopher's heart. After a while the dying man exclaimed, Ay me ! I have been a foolish man, the most foolish among the most foolish—and how earnestly I wished it otherwise

utterance,' observed the pastor, is also a proof that you are not

.yet in complete accord with your unbelief. No,' he added, taking Dialmon by the hand, you will not all die ; your spirit will surely live on.'—` So far as mere faith and hope are concerned, I can go a good way ; but what does that help us?' was Maimon's reply.— ' It helps us at least to peace,' urged the pastor.—' I am at peace (Ida bin rithig); said the dying man, completely exhausted.—Here Tscheggey broke off the conversation, as the sufferer was evidently unable to continue it. When he rose to leave, Maimon begged him to stay, or at least to come back again soon. He came back the following morning, but found the patient unconscious. At 10 o'clock on the same evening—it was the 22nd of November, 1800 —this strangely tossed life had reached its haven."

Such was the end of the learned Talmudist who, with a taste for natural science and for transcendental metaphysics, never got any good out of the system in which he was born and bred except, indeed, the manifold brotherly kindness of which Jews are so lavish to their poorer brethren. The one charming aspect of this autobiography is the generosity which -Maim on so often experienced at the hands of his richer Jewish acquaintances and friends, a generosity which he repaid by the most frank and cordial gratitude. Otherwise, this most vivid picture of a wasted life is one of almost unrelieved gloom.