Arrival in Berlin—Acquaintances—Mendelssohn—Desperate Study of Metaphysics—Doubts—Lectures on Locke and Adelung.
As I came to Berlin this time by post, I did not require to remain outside the Rosenthaler Gate to be examined by the Jewish elders; I proceeded without any difficulty into the city, and was allowed to take up my quarters where I chose. To remain in the city, however, was a different thing. The Jewish police-officers—L. M. of those days was a terrible fellow,—went every day round all the hotels and other houses designed for the reception of strangers, made inquiry into the quality and occupation of newcomers, as well as the probable length of their stay, and allowed them no rest till they had either found some occupation in the city, or were out of it again, or—the alternative goes without saying. I had taken a lodging on the New Market with a Jew, who was accustomed to receive in his house poor travellers that had not much to spend, and who the following day received a visit of this sort.
The Jewish police-officer, L. M., came and examined me in the strictest manner. I told him that I wished to enter into service as a family-tutor in Berlin, and that therefore the length of my stay could not be exactly determined. I appeared to him suspicious; he believed he had seen me here before, and evidently looked on me as a comet, which comes nearer to the earth the second time than the first, and so makes the danger more threating. But when he saw by me a Milloth Higgayon or Hebrew Logic, drawn up by Maimonides, and annotated by Mendelssohn, he went into a perfect rage. "Yes! yes!" he exclaimed, "that's the sort of books for me!" and as he turned to me with a threatening look, "Pack," he said, "out of Berlin as quick as you can, if you don't wish to be led out with all the honours!" I trembled, and knew not what to do; but as I had learnt that there was a Polish Jew, a man of talent, residing in Berlin for the sake of study, and received with esteem in the best families, I paid him a visit.
He received me as a countryman in a very friendly manner, asked about my home in Poland, and what had brought me to Berlin. When I told him in reply, that from my childhood I had discovered an inclination to the sciences, had already made myself acquainted with this and that Hebrew work which touches upon these, and now had come to Berlin in order to be Maamik Bechochmah (to become absorbed in the sciences), he smiled at this quaint rabbinical phrase, but gave me his full approval; and after conversing with me for some time, he begged me to visit him often, which I very willingly promised to do, and went away rejoicing in spirit.
The very next day I visited my Polish friend again, and found with him some young people belonging to a prominent Jewish family, who visited him often, and conversed with him on scientific subjects. They entered into conversation with me, found much amusement in my jargon, as well as in my simplicity and open-heartedness; in particular they laughed heartily at the phrase, Maamik Bechochmah, of which they had heard already. All this gave me courage, and they assured me that I should not find myself mistaken in the expectation of being able to be Maamik Bechochmah in Berlin. And when I made known my fear about the above-mentioned police-officer, they made me pluck up courage by promising to obtain protection for me from their family, so that I might remain in Berlin as long as I chose.
They kept their word, and Herr D—— P——, a well-to-do man of excellent character, of many attainments and fine taste, who was an uncle of these young men, not only paid me much attention, but also procured for me a respectable lodging, and invited me to the Sabbath dinner. Others of the family also sent me meals at my room on fixed days. Among these was a brother of these young men, in other respects an honourable man, who was not without attainments. But as he was a zealous Talmudist, he inquired earnestly whether with my inclination towards the sciences I had not quite neglected the Talmud; and as soon as he learnt, that I was so Maamik Bechochmah as to neglect the study of the Talmud, he gave up sending me my meals.
As I now had permission to remain in Berlin, I thought of nothing but how to carry my purpose into effect. Accidentally one day I went into a butter-shop, and found the dealer in the act of anatomising a somewhat old book for use in his trade. I looked at it, and found, to my no small astonishment, that it was Wolff's Metaphysics, or the Doctrine of God, of the World, and of Man's Soul. I could not understand, how in a city so enlightened as Berlin such important works could be treated in this barbarous fashion. I turned therefore to the dealer, and asked him, if he would not sell the book. He was ready to part with it for two groschen. Without thinking long about it I gave the price at once, and went home delighted with my treasure.
At the very first reading I was in raptures with the book. Not only this sublime science in itself, but also the order and mathematical method of the celebrated author,—the precision of his explanations, the exactness of his reasoning, and the scientific arrangement of his exposition,—all this struck a new light in my mind.
With the Ontology, the Cosmology, and the Psychology all went well; but the Theology created many difficulties, inasmuch as I found its dogmas, not only not in harmony, but even in contradiction, with the preceding propositions. At the very beginning I could not assent to Wolff's argument a posteriori for the existence of God in accordance with the Principle of Sufficient Reason; and I raised the objection to it, that, inasmuch as, according to Wolff's own confession, the Principle of Sufficient Reason is abstracted from particular cases of experience, the only point which can be proved by it is, that every object of experience must have its sufficient reason in some other object of experience, but not in an object beyond all experience. I also compared these new metaphysical doctrines with those of Maimonides, or rather of Aristotle, which were already known to me; and I could not bring them into harmony at all.
I resolved therefore to set forth these doubts in the Hebrew language, and to send what I wrote to Herr Mendelssohn, of whom I had already heard so much. When he received my communication, he was not a little astonished at it, and replied to me at once, that in fact my doubts were well founded, that I should not however allow myself to be discouraged on their account, but should continue to study with the zeal with which I had begun.