Readers of Daniel Deronda may remember that, in his search among the Jews of London for some one who could throw light on the sad story of Mirah, the hero of the novel was attracted one day to a second-hand book-shop, where his eye fell on "that wonderful bit of autobiography—the life of the Polish Jew, Solomon Maimon." There are few men so remarkable as Maimon who have met with so little recognition in English literature. Milman, in his History of the Jews, refers once[1] to the autobiography as "a curious and rare book," but apparently he knew it only from some quotations in Franck's La Cabbale. Among English metaphysical writers the only one who seems to have studied the speculations of Maimon is Dr. Hodgson.[2] Even the new edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica gives no place to Maimon among its biographies. And yet he is a prominent figure among the metaphysicians of the Kantian period. Kuno Fischer, in his Geschichte der Neueren Philosophie,[3] devotes a whole chapter to the life of Maimon, while the contemporary critics of Kant are dismissed with little or no biographical notice. Fischer's sketch is just sufficient to whet curiosity for fuller details; but, amid the dearth of rare literature in Colonial libraries, I certainly never expected to come, in a Canadian town, upon "a curious and rare book" of last century, which was known even to the learned Milman only through some quotations from a French author. One day, however, in Toronto, in order to while away an unoccupied hour, I was glancing, like Daniel Deronda, over the shelves of a second-hand bookseller, when I was attracted by a small volume, in a good state of preservation, with "S. Maimon's Lebensgeschichte" on the back; and on taking it down I found it to be the veritable autobiography which I had been curious to see.
Some account of the work was given in an article in the British Quarterly Review for July, 1885; but I thought that a complete translation would probably be welcomed by a considerable circle of English readers. The book has many attractions. If the development of the inner life of man can ever be characterised as a romance, the biography of Maimon may, in the truest sense, be said to be one of the most romantic stories ever written. Perhaps no literature has preserved a more interesting record of a spirit imprisoned within almost insuperable barriers to culture, yet acquiring strength to burst all these, and even to become an appreciable power in directing the course of speculation. The book, however, is much more than a biography; it possesses historical interest. It opens up what, to many English readers, must be unknown efforts of human thought, unknown wanderings of the religious life. The light, which it throws upon Judaism especially, both in its speculative and in its practical aspects, is probably, in fact, unique. For the sketches, which the book contains, of Jewish speculation and life were made at a time when the author had severed all vital connection with his own people and their creed; and they are therefore drawn from a point of view outside of Jewish prejudices: but they are penned by one who had been brought up to believe the divine mission of his people, as well as the divine authority of their religion; and the criticism of his old faith is generally tempered by that kindly sympathy, with which the heart is apt to be warmed on lingering over the companionships and other associations of earlier years. Maimon's account of Jewish philosophy and theology acquires an additional value from the fact, that he was caught in the full tide of the Kantian movement, and he was thus in a position to point out unexpected affinities between many an old effort of speculative thought among the Jews and the philosophical tendencies of modern Christendom.
Since writing the above-mentioned article for the British Quarterly Review, I learnt that a volume of Maimoniana had been issued in 1813 by an old friend of our philosopher, Dr. Wolff[4]; and through the kindness of a friend in Leipsic, I was enabled, after some delay, to procure a copy. It is a small volume of 260 pages, and adds extremely little to our knowledge of Maimon. Nearly one third is simply a condensation of the autobiography; and the remainder shows the author with the opportunities indeed, but without the faculty, of a Boswell. He has preserved but few of the felicities of Maimon's conversation; and what he has preserved loses a good deal of its flavour from his want of the lively memory by which Boswell was able to reproduce the peculiar mannerisms of Johnson's talk. Still I have culled from the little volume a few notes for illustration of the autobiography, and I am indebted to it for most of the materials of the concluding chapter. All my additions are indicated by "Trans." appended.
The translation gives the whole of the biographical portion of the original. There are, however, ten chapters which I have omitted, as they are occupied entirely with a sketch of the great work of Maimonides,—the Moreh Nebhochim, or Guide of the Perplexed. Owing to their somewhat loose connection[5] with the rest, these chapters excite just the faintest suspicion of "padding;" and at all events there is no demand for such a sketch in English now, when our literature has been recently enriched by Dr. Friedländer's careful translation of the whole work.
In the performance of my task I have endeavoured to render the original as literally as was consistent with readable English. Only in one or two passages I have toned down the expression slightly to suit the tastes of our own time; but even in these I have not been unfaithful to the author's meaning.
In the spelling of Hebrew and other foreign words I have never, without some good reason, interfered with the original. But as Maimon is not always consistent with himself in this respect, I have felt myself at liberty to disregard his usage by adopting such forms as are more familiar, or more likely to be intelligible, to an English reader.