History of Zionism, 1600-1918, Vol. 1 (of 2)

CHAPTER V.
MANASSEH’S NISHMATH CHAYYIM

The most important of his Hebrew writings—Quotations from Gebirol, Bedersi, R. Kalonymus, R. Zerahiah Ha’levi, and others—Plato, Aristotle and Philo—Cabbalistic ideas—R. Isaac Luria—Miracles and Christian Saints—Manasseh’s Jewish Nationalism—“The Jewish Soul”—The Zohar—R. Jehudah Ha’levi—The holiness of the Land of Israel—R. David Carcassone, the messenger from Constantinople.

The most important of Manasseh’s Hebrew writings, though it is only alluded to incidentally, or dismissed with derisive criticism in some biographies, was his Nishmath Chayyim...,¹ Amsterdam, 1651 (Appendix xi). Sarcastic observations have been made with regard to the legends and superstitions with which this book abounds. It is true that the book contains many legends and superstitious beliefs; but that is just why, from a literary point of view, it contributes far more to a real knowledge of Manasseh than the writings in which he advocated certain causes as apologist or translator. In this book we get Manasseh himself, a national Jew, preaching to his brethren in the national language. A careful study of the book in the original, with its peculiar style, its wide range of allusion, and its distinctive spirit, gives us a clear idea of Manasseh’s religious views, his Jewish national self-consciousness, or—to use the modern term—his Zionism.

The book is a careful compilation, skilfully put together and well chosen in every part. Though somewhat florid in certain portions, it is on the whole excellently written. Its style reminds one of that of Abrabanel, with a touch of R. Isaac (1402?–1494) ben Moses Arama. The author often quotes poetical sentences of Solomon (1021?–1058) ben Judah Ibn Gabirol [Abu Ayyub Sulaiman Ibn Yahya Ibn Jabirul], known as Avicebron: R. Jedaiah (1270?–1340?) ben Abraham Bedersi [Bedaresi].¹ Kalonymos (1286–post 1328) ben Kalonymos ben Meir [Maestro Calo]; Zerahiah (1131?–1186?) ben Isaac Ha’levi Gerondi, and others, and thus shows himself well versed not only in the ancient texts, but also in the beauties of comparatively recent Hebrew poetry.

Manasseh’s argument aims at proving that the immortality of the soul is an old Biblical as well as a Talmudical, Rabbinical and Cabbalistic principle. He defines the Nefesh (Soul) as the internal ultimate principle by which man thinks, feels and wills. The term Ruach (Mind) denotes this principle as the subject of man’s conscious state, while Nefesh denotes it as the source of man’s physical activities as well. The question of the reality of the soul and its separate existence apart from the body is for him one of the most important problems of religion, for with it is bound up the doctrine of a future life. He knows Plato (427?–347? b.c.e.), Aristotle (384 –322 b.c.e.) and Philo (20? b.c.e.–post 40 c.e.). It is well known that Mysticism shares to a great extent the ideas of the system of Plato, e.g. in his theory of the world of ideas, of the origin of the world-soul and the human soul. The two standpoints, the cosmological and the epistemological, are found combined in Plato. In the Phædo the chief argument for the immortality of the soul is based on the nature of intellectual knowledge interpreted by the theory of memory; this of course implies the pre-existence of the soul. This doctrine developed into an extreme Transcendentalism. Aristotle, on the other hand, emphasized the intimacy of the union of body and soul. The difficulty in his theory is to determine what degree of distinctness or separateness from the matter of the body is to be conceded to the human soul. He fully recognizes the spiritual element in thought, and describes the “active intellect” as separate, but the precise relation of this “active intellect” to the individual mind was an obscure point in his theory. Philo combined the Platonic theory with the data of the Bible, and taught that every man, by freeing himself from matter and receiving illumination from God, may reach the mystic, ecstatic or prophetic state, where he is absorbed in the Divinity. The Stoics taught that all existence is material, and described the soul as a breath pervading the body. They also called it Divine, a particle of God. Manasseh’s system is a syncretism of the ideas of Plato, Philo and the Stoics, while he rejects the Aristotelian ideas. He endeavours to prove that Moses Maimonides (1135–1204) did not follow the great Peripatetic, and opposes the commentator of Maimonides’ Moreh-Nebuchim Moses (fl. 14th cent.) ben Joshua Narboni [Mestre Vidal], in a somewhat forced dialectical manner.

Accepting on these grounds the pre-existence of the soul, the continuance of the soul in the world to come, and reincarnation, he comes to the Cabbalah, quotes the Zohar, and declares himself a disciple of R. Isaac Luria. According to the Zohar, man is composed of three things: Life, or Nefesh, Spirit, which is Ruach, and Soul, which is Neshamah. By this man becomes a Ruach Chajah (Living Spirit).¹ Manasseh’s doctrine may be summarized as follows:—

(1) The human soul is endowed with special gifts fitting it for an intimate union with the Divinity—the Stoic “particle of God,” corresponding to the Hebrew “Chelek Eloha Mimaal”;

(2) The gifts or graces through which every man is equipped for his perfection form his Life, Spirit and Soul into an organized whole, whose parts are knit together;

(3) Through contemplation and piety the human soul enters into that higher heavenly soul, into the mystical cosmos whose parts are united in divine eternity. This is, to his mind, the meaning of the Biblical teaching that man is made in the image and likeness of God.

The Cabbalistic ideas once accepted, Manasseh accepts also the transmigration of souls, physical resurrection, expelling of demons, and so on. He indulges in theosophical visions and metaphysical speculations. All these seem strange from a modern point of view, but he should be considered in the light of his time. He believed in miracles. Did not the Fathers of the Christian Church believe in them? Origen (185?–253(4)) says that he has seen examples of demons expelled.¹ St. Athanasius (293–373) writes in the Life of St. Anthony (251(2)–356(7)) from what he himself saw and heard from one who had long been in attendance on the saint. Justin Martyr (100?–163–7), in his second apology to the Roman Senate appeals to miracles wrought in Rome and well attested. Tertullian (155?–222?) challenges the heathen magistrates to work the miracles which the Christians perform²; St. Augustine (354–430) gives a long list of extraordinary miracles wrought before his own eyes, mentioning names and particulars. And even in the time of the Reformation, did not Johann von Reuchlin (1455–1522) adhere to Cabbalistic mysticism in his De arte cabalistias and De verbo mirifico? Paradoxical as it may seem at first sight, Manasseh even in his metaphysical beliefs was somewhat of a rationalist, in the sense that he accepted only evidence of trustworthy authority. The Safed authorities, who were supposed to have witnessed the miracles of Luria, of course impressed him in the same way as Montezinos’ reports, because they were in harmony with his theory. At any rate, it is characteristic of his way of thinking that he was anxious to build upon facts and evidence.

We have had to wander to some extent into a domain outside our province in order to appreciate fully Manasseh’s general ideas. His Jewish nationalism, which is for us the principal point, can be understood only in connection with his whole system of ideas. This nationalism is outspoken in the Nishmath Chayyim. What we, in modern language, call race, national (from natus—natio) individuality, i.e. what the Jew is by himself, by the fact of being born a Jew, is termed by Manasseh “the Jewish soul.” His system is rooted in his faith in the excellency of the Jewish soul, which is a profound act of homage to the race; that is the point of view from which he regards Jewish history. History, he thinks—and in this point again he is guided by the evidence of historical facts—bears witness to the beneficial influence that the soul of Israel, or—more precisely—the Israelitish soul, has exerted on the intellectual life of mankind.

On this point he is even carried away by his imagination to make exaggerated statements of the following kind, again backed up by authorities: “It is a truth confirmed by innumerable writers, that all the learning of the Greeks and Egyptians was derived from the Jews: Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria (150?–213?) and Theodoret (386?–247) assert that all the best philosophers and poets owe their learning to the Holy Scriptures, for which reason they call Plato the ‘Attic Moses’; the ‘Athenian Moses.’ Clearchus the Peripatetic (320 b.c.e.) writes that Aristotle gained most of his learning from a Jew with whom he had much conversation; Ambrose (340?–397) writes that Pythagoras (fl. 540–510 b.c.e.) was by origin a Jew, and like a pilferer robbed them of many things; Cornelius Alexander Polyhistor (80 b.c.e.) writes that he was a disciple of the prophet Ezekiel (fl. 3332 a.m.). Lastly, it is certain that Orpheus (14th or 13th cent. b.c.e.), Plato, Anaxagoras (500–428 b.c.e.) Pythagoras, the Milesian Thales (640–546 b.c.e.), Homer (fl. 962–927 b.c.e.) and many other very learned men, derived their knowledge from the wide ocean of the knowledge of Moses (2368–2488 a.m.) and the Sages and professors of his most Holy Law; for, according to the Psalmist,