Hume, Holiness, and Unintelligibility
HUME, HOLINESS, AND UNINTELLIGIBILITY
An Abstract
In 1740 Hume published in London Book 3 (“Of Morals”) of his Treatise, and in the very same year the Italian Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto published in Amsterdam his Mesillat Yesharim (The Path of the Just). The focus of each of the two books, as well as of Hume’s Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals (of 1751) is on ethics. Hume’s goal is to give us both an account of the general principles underlying the ethical views that, as a matter of fact, we happen to hold, and a fully naturalized account of the foundations of these views, i.e., an account that seeks to locate their source within human nature. Luzzatto’s goal is to spell out the details of the way to perfection for a human being, where perfection consists in one’s performance of the mitzvoth, the divinely ordained commandments, and in one’s withdrawal from the world, so as to draw as near as possible to G-d.
It is difficult to imagine two thinkers who would have less to say to each other than Hume and Luzzatto. Many of the topics about which they write, however, are oddly similar. Each is preoccupied with the virtues: what they are and what it is that makes them count as virtues. Each dwells upon the source of our moral misjudgments—an excessive concern with the self and one’s own relatively small circle, for Hume, and the momentary triumph of the yetzer ha-ra—the evil inclination—for Luzzatto. Each proposes a strategy for rectifying this problem, and each strategy involves adopting a perspective other than one’s original perspective. For Hume it is the perspective of the disinterested spectator, and for Luzzatto it is the perspective of a servant in the presence of a feared, revered, and beloved master. For each the role of pride, whether as a passion, a virtue, or a flaw, is crucial. For each it is shame, rather than guilt, that—when things go awry in our moral life--plays the key role.
My concern is to show how difficult it is to determine whether Hume would find intelligible the way of life, and the virtues embodied in the way of life, that Luzzatto extols.
Hume, Holiness, and Unintelligibility
“In fine, Holiness consists in one’s clinging so closely to his G-d that in any deed he might perform he does not depart or move from the Blessed One, until the physical objects of which he makes use become more elevated because of his having used them…” (Rabbi Moshe Chayim Luzzatto, The Path of the Just, p. 333.)
“Those, who ridicule superstitions, and expose the folly of particular regards to meats, days, places, postures, apparel, have an easy task; while they consider all the qualities and relations of the objects, and discover no adequate cause for that affection or antipathy, veneration or horror, which have so mighty an influence over a considerable part of mankind.” (David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, pp. 30-31, emphasis mine.)
Hume is kind to natural religion, less kind to revealed religion, and unkind to whatever he deems superstition. At the outset of his Treatise, he includes natural religion with mathematics and natural philosophy as one of the sciences that, for its full realization, is dependent upon “the science of man”. [i] At the end of his first Enquiry, he concludes his chapter “Of Miracles” with the view that reason fails to support the belief in a revealed religion (e.g. Christianity): whereas this belief depends on a prior belief in the miracles that are cited on the religion’s behalf, belief in miracles is without rational foundation[ii]:
Mere reason is insufficient to convince us of its [i.e., Christianity’s] veracity: And whoever is moved by Faith to assent to it, is conscious of a continued miracle in his own person, which subverts all the principles of his understanding, and gives him a determination to believe what is most contrary to custom and experience.
Hume then concludes his chapter “Of a Particular Providence and of a Future State” with the suggestion that belief in G-d is without rational foundation. His theory of causality precludes the very possibility of using a causal argument to infer the existence of a creator G-d from the existence of the natural universe:[iii]
… I much doubt whether it be possible for a cause [i.e., a creator G-d] to be known only by its effect [i.e., the natural universe] … or to be of so singular and particular a nature as to have no parallel and no similarity with any other cause or object, that has ever fallen under our observation. It is only when two species of objects are found to be constantly conjoined, that we can infer the one from the other… I leave it to your own reflection to pursue the consequences of this principle.
To be sure, one might well interpret these remarks as suggesting that where reason and experience end, faith properly begins: thus Hume writes: “Our most holy religion is founded on Faith, not on reason…”[iv] Whether this explicit fideism of Hume’s is genuine or ironic, it is difficult to square it with his theory of language and his epistemology. If words stand for ideas, and if “all our ideas … are copies of our impressions”[v], then words that stand for ideas (whether simple or complex) that are copies of no conceivable impressions must be meaningless. Strictly speaking, therefore, Hume should—even though he never does—deem meaningless words like “G-d” and “soul”.
Hume’s attitude towards what he deems superstition is unambiguous:[vi]
Celibacy, fasting, penance, mortification, self-denial, humility, silence, solitude, and the whole train of monkish virtues; for what reason are they everywhere rejected by men of sense, but because they serve to no manner of purpose; neither advance a man’s fortune in the world, nor render him a more valuable member of society; neither qualify him for the entertainment of company, nor increase his power of self-enjoyment? We observe, on the contrary, that they cross all these desirable ends; stupify the understanding and harden the heart, obscure the fancy and sour the temper. We justly, therefore, … place them in the catalogue of vices; nor has any superstition force sufficient among men of the world, to pervert entirely these natural sentiments. A gloomy, hair-brained enthusiast, after his death, may have a place in the calendar; but will scarcely ever be admitted, when alive, into intimacy and society, except by those who are as delirious and dismal as himself.
The virtues, in Hume’s view, consist of those human qualities that are either useful (to others or to ourselves) or immediately agreeable (to others or to ourselves). In as much as the “monkish virtues” are (in Hume’s view, once again) neither useful nor agreeable—indeed, they are quite the contrary—they merit our disapproval, if not our outright contempt.
What about religious virtues other than those of the monkish sort: how might Hume have responded to them? In the same year (1740) that Hume published in London Books 2 (“Of the Passions”) and 3 (“Of Morals”) of his Treatise, the Italian Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (1707 – 1746) published in Amsterdam his Mesillat Yesharim (The Path of the Just), a book that soon entered the canon of Jewish ethical writings. By the age of thirty he had acquired a prodigious grasp of rabbinic literature; had studied contemporary Italian literature; and had also studied, and taught, kabbalah (thereby incurring the disapproval of leading Italian rabbis, who compelled him to desist from such teaching). It is hard to imagine two more dissimilar thinkers than Hume and Luzzatto, and one wonders just what Hume would have made of Luzzatto’s book.
Hume’s focus is on ethics, in both the third book of his Treatise and in his Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals (of 1751). His goal is to give us a systematic account of the general principles underlying the ethical views that, as a matter of fact, we happen to hold, as well as a fully naturalized account of the foundations of these views, i.e., an account that seeks to locate their source within human nature. Luzzatto’s goal is to spell out the details of the way to perfection for a human being, where perfection consists in drawing as near as possible to G-d.
Many of the topics about which they write, however, are oddly similar. Each is preoccupied with the virtues: what they are and what it is that makes them count as virtues. Each dwells upon the source of our moral misjudgments—an excessive concern with the self and one’s own relatively small circle, for Hume, and the momentary triumph of the evil inclination within us, for Luzzatto. Each proposes a strategy for rectifying this problem, and each strategy involves adopting a perspective other than one’s original perspective. For Hume it is the perspective of the disinterested spectator, and for Luzzatto it is the perspective of a servant in the presence of a feared, revered, and beloved master. For each the role of pride, whether as a passion, a virtue, or a flaw, is crucial. For each it is shame, rather than guilt, that—when things go awry in our moral life—plays the key role.
My concern in this paper is to show that Hume would have found it impossible to find Luzzatto’s conception of life intelligible, and that the implications of this for our assessment of Hume’s views are significant.[vii] I shall begin by spelling out the details of the kind of life of which Luzzatto is writing. I shall then say just why I believe that Hume would find this life unintelligible. Finally I shall spell out the implications of this for Hume.
I. Luzzatto’s Path of the Just
Luzzatto’s intended reader is one who wishes to achieve the union with G-d wherein consists true perfection, i.e., perfection of one’s soul,[viii] and who must first acquire the trait of saintliness or piety (“chasidus”).[ix] Luzzatto’s goal is to remind us of truths that, in his view, we once knew but that we have forgotten:[x] truths pertaining to the various stages through which we must pass in order to achieve union with G-d. Luzzatto views knowledge of these truths as necessary for saintliness; thus he quotes from the Talmud: “‘An ignoramus cannot be a saint’ (for he who does not know cannot do)”.[xi] He also seems to view such knowledge as sufficient for saintliness; again he quotes from the Talmud: “ ‘Great is learning, for it leads to doing.’”[xii] He cites Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair who, in “Avodah Zarah”, a tractate of the Babylonian Talmud, makes explicit the truths whose nature Luzzatto will explicate:[xiii]
Torah leads to Watchfulness; Watchfulness leads to Zeal; Zeal leads to Cleanliness; Cleanliness leads to Separation; Separation leads to Purity; Purity leads to Saintliness; Saintliness leads to Humility; Humility leads to Fear of Sin; Fear of Sin leads to Holiness; Holiness leads to the Holy Spirit; and the Holy Spirit leads to the Revival of the Dead.
The study of Torah leads to watchfulness (or heedfulness): it compels one “to deliberate and watch over his actions and his accustomed ways [and his character traits[xiv]] to determine whether or not they good, so as not to abandon his soul to the danger of destruction”.[xv] “First he must consider what constitutes the true good that [he] should choose and the true evil that he should flee from; and second, he must consider his actions, to discover whether they appertain to the category of good or to that of evil.”[xvi] It is the yetzer ha-ra, the evil inclination within us, that keeps one from such self-reflection and that keeps him thereby from acknowledging his sins and repenting of them.[xvii] On the one hand the evil inclination clouds one’s moral vision so that he fails “to see the stumbling blocks in the ways of the world”; on the other hand, it causes one to “see evil as though it were goodness itself, and good as if it were evil”.[xviii]
Watchfulness leads to zeal (or diligence): whereas the former pertains to the negative commandments, the latter pertains to the positive. It involves “alacrity in [their] pursuit and fulfillment”.[xix] Zeal leads to cleanliness, the state of being “completely clean of bad traits and of sins”.[xx] The desire for theft, for example, and the desire for illicit relations, are especially strong.[xxi] “The man who is entirely free of this affliction [of the desire for illicit relations] and clean of any trace of evil which lust leaves behind it will come to possess perfectly clean vision and pure discrimination, and will not be swayed in any direction by desire, but will recognize as evil, and withdraw from, every sin that he had committed…”[xxii]
The difference between watchfulness and cleanliness is that one who exhibits the latter has extirpated his physical desires—thanks to “the strengthening within him of the longing for G-d”,[xxiii] whereas the former has subdued, but has not yet extirpated, these desires.[xxiv] With the extirpation of one’s desires comes clarity of moral vision; without it, one is prone to being deceived by the world and to deceiving oneself:[xxv] “For sin dulls a man’s heart in that it causes to depart from him true knowledge and the spirit of wisdom that [G-d] gives to the Saints … and he remains beastly and earthy, immersed in the grossness of this world.”[xxvi] Pride, for example, causes one to forget G-d,[xxvii] e.g., insofar as one imagines oneself to be exempt from a particular Biblical or Rabbinic law.
Cleanliness leads to separation. Watchfulness, zeal, and cleanliness constitute the requirements for righteousness; separation and purity constitute the requirements for saintliness. Separation consists in “forbidding to oneself something which is permitted” to ensure that one keeps “oneself from that which is forbidden”,[xxviii] (or, as we might put it today, to ensure that one stays far from the slippery slope). Given that “all of the world’s contingencies are trials to a man”[xxix]—i.e., given that we are constantly being tempted by a broad array of worldly pleasures, and given that “there is no worldly pleasure upon whose heels some sin does not follow—it follow that one should strive to escape these contingencies by separating oneself from the world. The majority of people are able to become righteous; insofar as they are unable to adhere to such separation, however, they are unable to become saintly, and therefore, in Luzzatto’s view, the rabbis never instituted a requirement that they do so.[xxx]
There are two forms of separation: one desirable and one undesirable. The former consists in taking “from the world … only what his nature renders absolutely essential to him.”[xxxi] The latter consists in abstinence “not only from what is not essential … but also from that which is, punishing [one’s body] with strange forms of affliction that God has no desire for.”[xxxii] Not for Luzzatto are Hume’s “monkish virtues”. “The truth, then, is that a man should separate himself from anything which is not essential to him in relation to the affairs of the world; if he separates himself from anything which is essential to him, regardless of the reason for its being so, he is a sinner.”[xxxiii]
It is not only from worldly pleasures that one must strive to separate oneself. One must also strive to separate oneself from lenient interpretations of Halakha (religious law) and from society. A propos of the former, Luzzatto writes, that one must withdraw oneself “from what is repulsive, from what is similar to it, and from what is similar to what is similar to it.”[xxxiv] A propos of the latter, he recommends withdrawing from society “in order to turn his heart to Divine service and to [engage in] proper reflection upon it.” The underlying thought here is that one is to cultivate and retain his relationships with his fellow scholars, but only to the extent that doing so enhances his own study. At the same time one remains in society to the extent of supporting oneself. “The proper course to follow is to associate with reputable persons for as long as may be necessary in the interest of Torah study or of earning a livelihood and then to seclude oneself for the purpose of communing with G-d and attaining to ways of righteousness and to true Divine service.”[xxxv]
Luzzatto reveals his moral psychology in the course of discussing two means of achieving separation. The first means is wholly intellecualist. If one reflects upon the nature of worldly pleasures, one will come to see that they are transient and that either they are inherently evil or they lead to evil—and such evil far outweighs “the small amount of good which they offer”[xxxvi]; thus one will grasp, with one’s intelligence, that these are “false”[xxxvii] or “illusory”[xxxviii] pleasures. Once one grasps this, “he will naturally come to despise [these pleasures] and find it not at all difficult to spurn them.”[xxxix] The second, and non-intellectualist, means of achieving separation is solitude: by removing oneself from worldly temptations, one will come to lose the desire for the objects of those temptations. [xl]
Separation leads to purity, i.e., to the nature of the motive from which one acts. One is to rid himself of the evil inclination,[xli] i.e., of all base motives: one is to fulfill each of the commandments for neither honor nor praise nor reward (whether in this world or the next),[xlii] but rather and exclusively from a love for G-d that disposes one to do whatever pleases G-d.[xliii] Acting from love, one will not find burdensome—rather, one will rejoice in—the performance of each of the commandments.[xliv] Moreover, one is to perform whatever profane actions one must perform with the ultimate goal of being able thereby to devote himself to the service of G-d.[xlv]
Purity leads to saintliness. Luzzatto rejects view that the self-mortification that Hume associates with the “monkish virtues” constitutes the essence of saintliness: “the pseudo-saints … lead people to believe that Saintliness consists entirely in the reciting of many supplications, in lengthy confessions, in exaggerated wailings and bowings, and in esoteric flagellations (such as immersion in ice and snow, and the like) by which a person mortifies himself.” At the same time, Luzzatto does not entirely reject Hume’s “monkish virtues”: while saintliness requires none of the self-mortifying practices, it is compatible with, and may be enhanced by, some of them. [xlvi] Discriminating between those practices in which one should engage and those in which he should not, is difficult and requires wisdom: Luzzatto repeats the Talmudic passage that he has already cited, “‘An ignoramus cannot be a saint.’”[xlvii]
Saintliness is a form of supererogation: it consists in inferring from G-d’s explicit commandments what would give Him pleasure, and then—out of love for G-d— tailoring one’s conduct accordingly. Saintliness is identical to separation in this respect; they differ in that saintliness focuses on the positive commandments, and separation, on the negative.[xlviii]
There are three species of saintliness, focusing on one’s deeds, the manner of their performance, and the intentions with which one performs them. Some deeds concern the relationship between an individual and G-d, and some concern the relationship between an individual and “his neighbor”. Of the latter relationship, Luzzatto writes that saintliness[xlix]
consists in the doing of good in abundance, in one’s always benefiting his fellow creatures and never injuring them. This applies to the body, belongings and soul of one’s neighbor.
[Where the body is concerned, one] must seek to help all men in any way he can, and lighten their burdens. … If he can prevent some bodily harm from coming to his neighbor or remove that which threatens such harm, he must exert himself to do so.
[Where belongings are concerned, one] must assist his neighbor as far as his resources allow and guard his belongings against damage in every way he can.
[Where the soul is concerned, one] must strive to give his neighbor as much pleasure as he can… It goes without saying that he must not cause his neighbor any pain whatsoever in any manner whatsoever.
Lovingkindness (chesed) is essential to saintliness (chasidus) and is easily confused with charity. “Lovingkindness is greater than charity in three ways: Charity is performed with one’s wealth, and lovingkindness with one’s body; charity is given to the poor, and lovingkindness to rich and poor alike; charity is given only to the living, and lovingkindness to the living and the dead alike.”[l] By the latter, presumably Luzzatto has in mind acts of piety towards one’s deceased parents, such as the giving of charity in their memory, as well as the display of forgiveness towards those among the dead who had wronged one. It includes the display of mercy and the overlooking of injustices committed against oneself. It extends to the our treatment of animals: “Included in this category of Saintliness is not causing pain to any creature—even animals—and showing mercy and pity towards them.”[li]
Each deed that manifests saintliness must manifest both the fear and the love of G-d. The object of the fear of G-d is G-d’s “exalted nature”. To display this fear one must display humility towards G-d, feel shame in engaging in Divine service (because of the imperfections that arise from one’s corporeal nature), and accord honor to G-d and to His commandments[lii] (e.g., by honoring the Sabbath).[liii] The fear of G-d entails honoring G-d, which in turn leads to the love of G-d.[liv] The fear of punishment plays no role in this sort of fear.[lv]
The love of G-d “consists in a person’s desiring and actually lusting for the nearness of the Blessed One and pursuing His holiness as one pursues anything which he strongly desires.”[lvi] The basis for this love is not self-interest; i.e., “one should love the Creator … not because He is good to him and grants him wealth and success, but because he is naturally impelled to do so, in the same manner that a son is naturally impelled to love his father.”[lvii] The communion with G-d, for which one strives, “is a state in which one’s heart clings so closely to the Blessed One that he does not strive for and is not concerned with anything outside of H-m…”[lviii] To experience the Shekhinah (the Divine Presence) one must serve G-d with joy. [lix] One must also display the right motive. The saint does not serve G-d from self-interest—not even from the “enlightened” self-interest that seeks the pleasure of being in the divine presence:[lx]
It cannot be said that one who is motivated in his Divine service by a desire to purify his soul before his Creator so that he can come to sit in His presence together with the just and the Saintly, to see the pleasantness of G-d, to dwell within His Sanctuary and to receive the reward of the World to Come—it cannot be said that such a person is badly motivated. On the other hand, we cannot say that his motivation is a very good one either. For as long as a person is concerned with his own good, his Divine service is also performed for his own good. The true motivation, which is common to Saints, … is to serve solely for the purpose of magnifying and extending [G-d’s] honor…
The right motive requires, furthermore, that the saint be concerned with the “the good of the generation”, i.e., with the good of the Jewish people.[lxi]
The saint is a consequentialist of sorts: he “weighs” his prospective actions “in relation to their results and in relation to all of the circumstances surrounding their performance…” The decisive question that he must raise with respect to each action is whether its performance would serve to sanctify G-d’s name and give pleasure to G-d more so than its non-performance.[lxii] To answer this question correctly, he must have a pure intention (i.e., to give pleasure to G-d); he must subject both the performance and the non-performance of the prospective action to great scrutiny; and he must have complete trust in G-d.[lxiii]
Saintliness leads to humility. “The essence of humility [consists] in a person’s not attaching importance to himself for any reason whatsoever.”[lxiv] This holds true of even the saint, “for every virtue that he attains represents nothing more than G-d’s lovingkindness to him … in spite of the fact in point of his nature and his earthiness he is extremely lowly and shameful.”[lxv] The humble individual “is little concerned with worldly affairs and is not moved to envy by its vanities.”[lxvi] By way of contrast, it is precisely his attachment to worldly affairs—and the wealth that success therein brings—that fuels the pride of the proud individual.[lxvii] “It is to be observed,” Luzzatto notes, “that pride is most prevalent among the more ignorant”,[lxviii] i.e., among those who are ignorant of the worthlessness of this world. Because of the humble individual’s lack of envy, inter alia, his company is very pleasant and he gives pleasure to his fellow men.”[lxix]
Humility leads to the fear of sin. The sort of fear that Luzzatto has in mind is a function not of the fear of punishment, but rather of the “reflection upon the majesty of [G-d] and the lowliness of man.”[lxx] “It consists in a person’s constantly fearing and worrying that some trace of sin might have intruded itself into his actions or that they contain something … which is inconsonant with the grandeur of [G-d’s] honor and with the majesty of His Name.”[lxxi] Only through “uninterrupted study of the Torah and its ways”—whereby one learns that G-d is present everywhere—is one likely to acquire the fear of sin.[lxxii]
The fear of sin leads to holiness: one strives to sanctify oneself—by separating oneself from one’s corporeal nature and clinging to G-d—and then G-d brings one’s efforts to completion by sanctifying him.[lxxiii] Holiness differs markedly from purity. Actions that manifest purity “are necessary ones, and [the corresponding individual] is motivated by necessity alone… One who is Holy, however, and clings constantly to his G-d, his soul traveling in channels of truth, amidst the love and fear of his Creator—such a person is as one walking before G-d in the Land of the Living [i.e., in the World to Come], here in this world. Such a person is himself considered a tabernacle, a sanctuary, an altar.”[lxxiv] “The Divine Presence dwells with the Holy as it dwelt in the Temple.”[lxxv] Just as the offerings that were sacrificed upon the Temple altar were “greatly elevated” because of their having been sacrificed, so “the food and drink of the Holy man is elevated and is considered as if it had actually been sacrificed upon the altar.”[lxxvi] Indeed, “anything at all which is made use of by [holy individuals] in some way is elevated and enhanced…”[lxxvii] Thus the essence of holiness “consists in one’s clinging so closely to
his G-d” that his deeds serve to transform and to elevate the status of the physical objects upon which he is acting.[lxxviii]
As for the holy individual himself,
if, after having undergone all these preparations, he steadfastly pursues with strong love and great fear, the contemplation of the greatness of the Blessed One and the might of His majesty, he will separate himself little by little from earthy considerations and in all his actions and movements will direct his heart to the intimacies of true communion until there is conferred upon him a spirit from on high and the Blessed One causes His Name to dwell with him as He does with all of His holy ones. He will then be in actuality like an angel of G-d, and all of his actions, even the lowly physical ones, will be accounted as sacrifices and Divine service.”[lxxix]
Holiness is not the highest of the attainable stages. “From this level one proceeds to an even higher one, that of The Holy Spirit, his understanding coming to transcend the bounds of human nature. It is possible for one to reach such a high degree of communion with G-d as to be given the key to the revival of the dead, as it was given to Elijah and Elisha. It is this gift which reveals the strength of one’s union with the Blessed One, for since He is the source of life, … then one who is perfectly united with the Blessed One will be able to draw even life from Him…”[lxxx]
II. The Intelligibility Question
There are many details of Luzzatto’s conception with which Hume could sympathize—and which, therefore, he most certainly would find intelligible.
Hume could recognize the lovingkindness that characterizes the saint as an extreme version of benevolence. He could recognize the joy that the saint derives from communion with G-d as a version (albeit an eccentric version) of a quality that is immediately agreeable to its possessor. When Luzzatto writes about the separation of the saint from society, he is quick to distinguish the desirable from the undesirable forms of separation, and in any case he qualifies the nature of the separation to such an extent that it turns out to be a metaphorical, and not a literal, separation: one remains a member of one’s society at the same time that one’s orientation is elsewhere. As a consequence it would be more than a bit glib to say that Hume would simply find Luzzatto’s conception of the virtues unintelligible.
In any event, Luzzatto’s virtues are not in the same camp as Hume’s “monkish virtues”. Whereas the latter, in Hume’s view, “stupify the understanding and harden the heart, obscure the fancy and sour the temper”,[lxxxi] the manifestation of each of Luzzatto’s virtues is attended with joy: a joy that expresses the devotion that one feels in communing with G-d.
At the same time one wants to say that it is not the details of Luzzatto’s views that matter in this regard. Obviously one could sift through his views and accept some and reject others—but that would be to miss the big picture. Hume’s virtues are designed to render us ideal members of our society—just and courageous, to be sure, but also witty and charming and good-natured—and there is no larger framework beyond the society. Luzzatto’s virtues arise within a framework that lies beyond the framework of society: it is, obviously, a metaphysical framework, and because of that framework, the mundane acquires a significance that it would not otherwise possess. Hume’s world is not dramatic; that it to say, it is not essentially dramatic: whatever drama that it may contain is wholly contingent. As such, it will be personal or social or political. Luzzatto’s world is just the opposite: it is essentially charged with drama, and the drama is wholly metaphysical. Life itself is a trial. Our antagonist—the yetzer ha-ra (the evil inclination)—lies within each of us. Our goal is to become worthy of the World to Come by acknowledging that our present world is of no value and by thereby overcoming the yetzer ha-ra. Few of us shall succeed.
It seems to me that the acid test for determining whether one finds a particular way of life (or even, for that matter, a particular view) unintelligible, is to see whether, on the one hand, one presents arguments against that way of life (or view), or whether, on the other hand, one tries to explain it away. To charge a way of life with superstition is to say that we are not about to advance an argument against it—either because it strikes us as unnecessary to advance such an argument or because we haven’t the faintest idea how we would even begin to advance an argument.
Those, who ridicule superstitions, and expose the folly of particular regards to meats, days, places, postures, apparel, have an easy task; while they consider all the qualities and relations of the objects, and discover no adequate cause for that affection or antipathy, veneration or horror, which have so mighty an influence over a considerable part of mankind. A Syrian would have starved rather than taste pigeon; an Egyptian would not have approached bacon: But if these species of food be examined by the senses of sight, smell, or taste, or srutinized by the sciences of chymistry, medicine, or physics; no difference is ever found between them and any other species, nor can that precise circumstance be pitched on, which may afford a just foundation for the religious passion.[lxxxii]
It is clear that Hume deems it unnecessary to advance an argument against such “superstitions”—and it is clear why. His theory of knowledge guarantees that the qualities that objects possess are exclusively empirical: to suggest that bacon possesses a quality that renders it unclean to a Muslim (an Egyptian) implies that the quality must be discernible by the empirical sciences, “the sciences of chymistry, medicine, or physics”. As there is no such discernible quality, it follows that there is no quality: worse yet, never having had an impression of sense of any such quality, we have no idea of any such quality—and therefore have no idea of what we are ostensibly talking about should we find ourselves talking about such a quality.
Luzzatto, of course, is in the same camp as Hume’s Egyptian. Like the latter, Luzzatto would view bacon as unclean. On one level, of course, Hume might appear to miss the boat here: neither the Egyptian nor Luzzatto would cite the presence of a particular quality in the bacon that renders it unfit to eat. Rather, each would cite G-d’s will, as expressed through His prohibition, whether of the Koran or the Torah, against the eating of certain foods. Hume, of course, would not stop here. If the prohibition is based on the presence of an inherent quality of the food, then the quality (once again) must be empirical. If the prohibition is not based on the presence of an inherent quality, then one is at a loss to know just what its basis is. It is difficult to imagine Hume and Luzzatto engaging in joint speculation as to G-d’s intentions.
At this point Hume might argue against the meaningfulness of the sort of discourse about G-d in which Luzzatto (or the Egyptian) engages. It would be a bit awkward for him to do so, however, especially in light of the sort of comment that he makes at the end of his chapter, “Of the Immateriality of the Soul”, in the Treatise: “If my philosophy, therefore, makes no addition to the arguments for religion, I have at least the satisfaction to think it takes nothing from them, but that every thing remains precisely as before.”[lxxxiii]
I presume that what Hume says about Roman Catholicism he would write, mutatis mutandis, about Luzzatto:[lxxxiv]
A fowl on Thursday is lawful food; on Friday abominable: Eggs in this house, and in this diocese, are permitted during Lent; a hundred paces farther, to eat them is a damnable sin. This earth or building, yesterday was profane; today, by the muttering of certain words, it has become holy and sacred. Such reflections as these, in the mouth of a philosopher, one may safely say, are too obvious to have any influence; because they must always, to every man, occur at first sight; and where they prevail not of themselves, they are surely obstructed by education, prejudice, and passion, not by ignorance or mistake.
What is interesting about this passage is the final sentence: Hume views it as unnecessary to argue against these practices (and the views that underlie them) because their absurdity is simply too obvious to require an argument! He concludes by trying to explain them away: one could only have acquired such views “by education, prejudice, and passion”. Indeed, they are so manifestly false that one could not even have acquired them “by ignorance or mistake”.
In the final analysis, Hume’s argument against the reasonableness of embracing the sort of view of life that Luzzatto embraces must rest on his, Hume’s, theory of knowledge. It is a bit odd that Hume and Luzzatto could not engage one another as moral thinkers, but rather only as epistemologists who would have to begin their dialogue by focusing on the question whether all simple ideas are indeed copies of simple impressions.
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[i] David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 4.
[ii] David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding, (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1993), p. 90.
[iii] Ibid., pp. 101-102. Of the three italicized expressions, the italics of the first and third are mine.
[iv] Ibid., p. 89.
[v] Ibid., p. 11.
[vi] David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1983), pp. 73-74.
[vii] Plato, by way of contrast, might have found Luzzatto’s conception of life intelligible—radically mistaken, to be sure, in its basic religious commitment, but intelligible nonetheless. The influence of Plato (or, at the very least, of Neoplatonism) on Luzzatto’s thinking is striking.
[viii] Ibid., p. 109.
[ix] Moshe Chayim Luzzatto, The Path of the Just. (Jerusalem/New York: Feldheim Publishers, 1980),
p. 19.
[x] Ibid., p. 3.
[xi] Ibid., p. 177. The quotation is from Pirkei Avos 2.5.
[xii] Ibid., p. 177. The quotation is from Kiddushin 40b.
[xiii] Luzzatto, Op. Cit., p. 13. An alternative translation of the same passage is as follows:
[The study of] Torah brings [one] to heedfulness; heedfulness brings [one] to diligence; diligence brings [one] to [moral] cleanliness; cleanliness brings [one] to asceticism; asceticism brings [one] to purity; purity brings [one] to piety; piety brings [one] to humility; humility brings [one] to fear of sin; fear of sin brings [one] to holiness; holiness brings one to [divine] inspiration; divine inspiration brings [one] to resurrection of the dead. (Talmud Bavli/Tractate Avodah Zarah Vol. I. [Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, Ltd., {The Artscroll Series/ Schottenstein Edition}, 2003], 20b.)
[xiv] Ibid., p. 37.
[xv] Ibid., p. 29.
[xvi] Ibid., p. 35.
[xvii] Ibid., p. 31.
[xviii] Ibid., p. 39.
[xix] Ibid., p. 75.
[xx] Ibid., p. 107.
[xxi] Ibid., p. 113. Luzzatto construes the notion of theft very broadly: it includes, inter alia, an employee’s utilizing his working hours for his personal benefit (pp. 115-117).
[xxii] Ibid, p. 107.
[xxiii] Ibid., p. 109.
[xxiv] One is reminded here of Plato’s view in Republic VI that “when someone’s desires flow towards learning and everything of that sort, he’d be concerned, I suppose, with the pleasures of the soul itself by itself, and he’d abandon those pleasures that come through the body—if indeed he is a true philosopher and not merely a counterfeit one.” G.M.A. Grube , trans., Plato: Republic (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1992), 485d. Both Plato and Luzzatto employ the so-called hydraulic model of the soul, whereby, as Plato puts it, “when someone’s desires incline strongly for one thing, they are thereby weakened for others, just like a stream that has been partly diverted into another channel.” (485d)
[xxv] Ibid., pp. 109-111.
[xxvi] Ibid., pp. 131-133.
[xxvii] Ibid., p. 155.
[xxviii] Ibid., p. 179.
[xxix] Ibid., p. 183.
[xxx] Ibid., p. 189.
[xxxi] Ibid., p. 187.
[xxxii] Ibid., p. 189.
[xxxiii] Ibid., p. 191.
[xxxiv] Ibid., p. 193.
[xxxv] Ibid., p. 195.
[xxxvi] Ibid., p. 199.
[xxxvii] Ibid. ,p. 197.
[xxxviii] Ibid., p. 199.
[xxxix] Ibid. p. 197.
[xl] Ibid., p. 201.
[xli] Ibid., p. 203.
[xlii] Ibid., p. 205.
[xliii] Luzzatto likens prayer to Temple sacrifice: “And just as it is not permissible to offer up upon the earthly altar any but the cleanest flour, sifted through thirteen sieves … and therefore entirely free of any impurity, so is it impossible to offer up [by way of Divine service] upon the Heavenly altar … any but the choicest of actions, entirely free of imperfections.” (p. 207.)
[xliv] Ibid., p. 209.
[xlv] Ibid., p. 209. It is true that Luzzatto speaks of the “fear of G-d” (p. 203), but it becomes clear that what he understands by this is something akin to awe or reverence.
[xlvi] Ibid., p. 215. Luzzatto allows that “some of these things are required for those who engage in repentance and some are appropriate for those who practice Separation” (p. 215).
[xlvii]Ibid., p. 217.
[xlviii] Ibid., p. 219.
[xlix] Ibid., p. 221 – 223.
[l] Ibid., p. 229.
[li] Ibid., p. 229.
[lii] Ibid., pp. 231 – 235.
[liii] Ibid., p. 239.
[liv] Ibid. ,p. 241.
[lv] Ibid., p. 241.
[lvi] Ibid., p. 245.
[lvii] Ibid., p. 247.
[lviii] Ibid., p. 249.
[lix] Ibid., p. 253.
[lx] Ibid., pp. 257 – 259.
[lxi] Ibid., p. 263.
[lxii] Ibid., p. 273.
[lxiii] Ibid., p. 267.
[lxiv] Ibid., p. 283.
[lxv] Ibid., p. 289.
[lxvi] Ibid., p. 299.
[lxvii] Ibid., p. 305.
[lxviii] Ibid., p. 307.
[lxix] Ibid., p. 299.
[lxx] Ibid., p. 313.
[lxxi] Ibid., p. 313.
[lxxii] Ibid., p. 325.
[lxxiii] Ibid., p. 327.
[lxxiv] Ibid., p. 329.
[lxxv] Ibid., p. 331.
[lxxvi] Ibid., p. 331.
[lxxvii] Ibid., p. 331.
[lxxviii] Ibid., p. 333.
[lxxix] Ibid., p. 333.
[lxxx] Ibid., p.335.
[lxxxi] David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, p. 30, emphasis mine.
[lxxxii] David Hume, Treatise, p. 164.
[lxxxiii] David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, pp. 30 – 31, emphasis mine.
[lxxxiv] Ibid., p. 74.
Hume, Holiness, and Unintelligibility
Nelson P. Lande
Philosophy Department
University of Massachusetts at Boston
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