In 1769, Johan Caspar Lavater issued a public challenge to Moses Mendelssohn. Lavater, a Swiss clergyman, dedicated his translation of Charles Bonnet’s Study of the Evidence for Christianity to Mendelssohn. This dedication was anything but a compliment. In it, Lavater called on Mendelssohn either to refute the book’s proofs of Christianity or to submit to baptism. Mendelssohn’s reply to Lavater is both a call for toleration and a powerful statement of Mendelssohn’s commitment to his faith. As you read, consider how Mendelssohn’s experiences as a Jew shaped his views on religious toleration.
Honorable friend of humanity!
You have deemed it proper to dedicate to me Mr. Bonnet’s Investigation of the Proofs for Christianity, which you have translated from the French. And in the dedication you have deemed it proper to implore me, before the eyes of the public and in the utmost solemn fashion, “to refute this work, provided that I do not find the essential arguments in support of the facts of Christianity to be correct, but if I find them to be correct, to do what prudence, love of truth, and honesty command me to do — what Socrates would have done if he had read this work and found it irrefutable.” That is, to forsake the religion of my fathers and embrace the one that Mr. Bonnet is defending. For surely, even if my thinking were otherwise servile enough to allow me to regard prudence as a counterweight to the love of truth and honesty, in this case I would nevertheless find all three in the same scale [of the balance].
I am completely convinced that your actions spring from a pure source, and I can attribute to you nothing but kindly, philanthropic intentions. I would not be worthy of the respect of any righteous man if I did not reply with a grateful heart to the friendly affection that you show me in your dedication. But I cannot deny that this step on your part has greatly surprised me. From a Lavater I would have expected anything but a public challenge.
Since you still remember the confidential discussion that I had the pleasure of having with you and your estimable friends in my parlor, you cannot have possibly forgotten how often I attempted to steer the conversation away from religious issues and toward neutral matters, or how much you and your friends had to press me before I dared to express my convictions on the subject that is so important to the heart. If I am not mistaken, assurances were offered in advance that no public mention should ever be made of the words that would emerge on this occasion. I prefer to be mistaken, however, than to blame you for breaking this promise. But seeing that I tried so carefully to avoid making a declaration while in my parlor among a small number of estimable men of whose good intentions I had reason to be assured, it was easy to realize that a public declaration would be extremely distasteful to me, and that I would feel embarrassment when the voice that challenges me to declare myself cannot possibly be contemptible to me. What, therefore, can have moved you to drag me out of the crowd and lead me into a public arena that I never wished to enter? And even if you attributed my reticence to mere timidity or shyness, does not such a weakness deserve the indulgence and forbearance of every kindly heart?
My hesitation to be drawn into religious controversies, however, has never stemmed from fear or bashfulness on my part. I did not begin investigating my religion only yesterday. I recognized quite early the duty to examine my opinions and actions, and if from my youth onward I have devoted my hours of rest and relaxation to philosophy and the belles-
If my decision after those many years of study has not come out completely in favor of my religion, then this decision would have necessarily been made known by means of a public act. I do not comprehend what could bind me to a religion that seems so strict and is so universally despised, if I were not convinced of its truth in my heart. Whatever the result of my investigations, as soon as I did not regard the religion of my fathers as the true one, I would have to abandon it. If in my heart I had been persuaded by another religion, it would have been the most depraved baseness not to want to confess the truth in spite of this inner conviction. And what could have tempted me to such baseness? I have already confessed that in this case prudence, love of truth, and honesty would lead me down the same path.
If I were indifferent to both religions and mentally derided or despised all revelations, then I would know quite well what prudence advises when the conscience is silent. What could restrain me? Fear of my coreligionists? Their worldly power is much too small for them to be able to frighten me. Stubbornness? Laziness? Attachment to habitual ideas? Since I have devoted most of my life to inquiry, one will credit me with enough thoughtfulness so as not to sacrifice the fruits of my investigations to such weakness.
You see, therefore, that in the absence of a sincere conviction regarding my religion, the outcome of my inquiry would have had to become evident in a public act. But since my inquiry has fortified my conviction about the religion of my fathers, I could go my way in silence without needing to give the world any account of my conviction. I shall not deny that I have observed in my religion human additions and abuses that, alas, tarnish its luster. Which friend of truth can boast of having found his religion to be free of harmful human additions? Insofar as we seek the truth about our religion, we all recognize the poisonous breath of hypocrisy and superstition, and wish to be able to wipe it away without causing any injury to what is true and good. I am as firmly and irrefutably convinced about what is essential to my religion as you or Mr. Bonnet can be about yours. And I herewith declare before the God of truth, which is your creator and preserver as well as mine, that I shall abide by my principles as long as my entire soul does not assume another nature. My remoteness from your religion, which was made known to you and your friends, has not decreased in the meantime. And my great respect for the moral character of its founder? Had you not been silent about the condition that I explicitly added, I would have been able to concede it now. Certain investigations must be brought to an end at some point in one’s life in order to proceed any further. I may say that with respect to religion this already happened to me some years ago. I read, compared, reflected, and took a side.
And yet for all I care, Judaism could have been razed to the ground in every polemical textbook and triumphed over in every scholastic exercise, without my ever having to be drawn into a dispute about it. Every expert or dabbler in rabbinical matters could have devised for himself and his readers, without the slightest opposition from me, the most ridiculous concept of Judaism by drawing on the worthless books that no reasonable Jew reads or knows. I would be able to refute the contemptuous opinion that one has of a Jew through virtue rather than through polemical writings. My religion, my philosophy, and my rank in civil life furnish me with the most important reasons for avoiding all religious disputes and for speaking in my public writings only of those truths that must be equally important to all religions.
According to the principles of my religion, I should attempt to convert no one who was not born under our law. The spirit of conversion, the origin of which some people would so gladly like to charge to the Jewish religion, is, however, diametrically opposed to it. All of our rabbis unanimously teach that the written and oral laws that make up our revealed religion are binding only on our nation. Moses charged us with the law; it is the inheritance of the congregation of Jacob [the Jews]. All of the other peoples of the earth, we believe, have been instructed by God to abide by the law of nature and the religion of the patriarchs. Those who regulate their conduct in accordance with the laws of this religion of nature and reason are called virtuous men of other nations, and they are children of eternal bliss.
Our rabbis are so unmoved by any passion for conversion that they even direct us to employ serious counterarguments to discourage any volunteer who has the intention to convert. We are supposed to point out to him that by this step he is unnecessarily taking on a very hard burden. That in his current circumstances he has only to observe the Noahide duties [religious laws] in order to attain salvation, but that as soon as he accepts the religion of the Israelites, he freely submits himself to all of the strict laws of this faith and then must either observe them or expect the punishment that the Lawgiver has attached to their transgression. Finally, we are also supposed to present him with a faithful picture of the misery, oppression, and contempt in which the nation currently lives, in order to keep him from taking what may possibly be an overhasty step that he could subsequently regret.
The religion of my fathers, therefore, does not wish to be disseminated. We are not supposed to send missions to either of the Indies or to Greenland in order to preach our religion to those distant peoples. Alas, the latter in particular observe the law of nature better than we do according to the descriptions that we have of them. According to our religious doctrines, they are an enviable people. Whoever is not born under our law may not also live under our law. We take only ourselves to be obliged to observe these laws, and this cannot offend our fellow men. Do our opinions seem absurd? It is not necessary to dispute the matter. We act in accordance with our convictions, and others may call into question the validity of laws that, by our own admission, place them under no obligation. We can leave to their own consciences whether or not they act justly, tolerantly, and philanthropically when they ridicule our laws and customs to such a degree. As long as we do not intend to convince others of our opinions, arguing is useless.
If a Confucius or a Solon [wise men] lived among my contemporaries, I could, in accordance with the principles of my religion, love and admire the great man, without hitting on the ridiculous idea of wanting to convert a Confucius or a Solon. Convert him? For what reason? Since he does not belong to the congregation of Jacob, my religious laws do not bind him, and we would soon come to an agreement about doctrinal matters. Because I believed that he could attain salvation? Oh, it seems to me that whoever guides people to virtue in this life cannot be damned in the next one, and I need not fear that any venerable collegium might take me to task for holding this opinion, as the Sorbonne did the honest Marmontel [a French writer condemned for his writing on paganism].
I am lucky to be friends with many an excellent man who is not of my faith. We sincerely love one another, even though we suspect and suppose that we are of entirely different opinions in matters of faith. I enjoy the pleasure of their company, which improves and delights me. Never did my heart secretly call out to me: Too bad about their beautiful souls! Whoever believes that no salvation is to be found outside of his church must quite often feel such a sigh rising in his breast.
It is indeed a natural obligation for every mortal man to spread knowledge and virtue among his fellow men and to blot out their prejudices and errors as much as is within his power. Given this way of thinking, one might believe that everyone is obliged to publically dispute the religious opinions that he takes to be erroneous. But not all prejudices are equally harmful, and therefore the prejudices that we believe we perceive among our fellow men must not all be handled in the same fashion. Some are in direct conflict with the felicity of the human race; their influence on men’s morals is obviously pernicious, and one ought not to expect even an accidental benefit to come from them. Every friend of humanity must forthrightly attack them. The direct way of attacking them is indisputably the best way, and any delay by taking roundabout paths is irresponsible. To this sort belong all of people’s errors and prejudices that disturb their own or their fellow men’s peace and contentment, and kill every seed of what is true and good in people before it can sprout. On the one hand, there is fanaticism, misanthropy, and the spirit of persecution; on the other hand, there is thoughtlessness, voluptuousness, and immoral freethinking.
Now and then, however, the opinions of my fellow men that I take to be errors belong among those higher theoretical principles that are too far removed from practical matters to be immediately harmful. But precisely because of their generality they constitute the foundation on which a people who cherishes them has built up its system of ethics and social life, and so they have accidentally become of great importance to this portion of the human race. Publically disputing such precepts because they seem to us to be prejudices means digging up the foundation in order to investigate whether or not it is firm and secure, without shoring up the building. Whoever cares more for the welfare of mankind than for his own renown will keep a rein on his opinions concerning prejudices of this sort, and he will guard against attacking them forthrightly and without the greatest care, in order not to overturn what he deems a suspicious ethical principle before his fellow men have accepted the true one he wants to put in its place.
Therefore, I can readily believe that I recognize the national prejudices and erroneous religious opinions of my fellow citizens, and yet am obliged to remain silent if these errors do not directly lead to the destruction of either natural religion or natural law but rather are accidentally connected to the promotion of the good. It is true that the morality of our actions hardly deserves this name if it is founded on error, and the promotion of the good will always be supported much better and more securely by the truth than by prejudice, provided that it is recognized. But as long as the truth is not recognized, as long as it has not become national, so as to be able to influence the great mass of the people as powerfully as a deeply rooted prejudice, such prejudice must be nearly holy to every friend of virtue.
Such modestly is all the more obligatory if the nation that in my opinion cherishes such errors has also made itself worthy of admiration through virtue and wisdom and contains a number of great men who deserve to be called benefactors of the human race. Such a noble part of humanity must even be shown respect and excused when it makes mistakes. Who would dare to overlook the excellent qualities of such a sublime nation and to attack it where he thinks he has noticed a weakness?
These are the motives that my religion and my philosophy furnish me for carefully avoiding religious disputes. If you add the domestic circumstances in which I live among my fellow men, then you will completely excuse me. I am a member of an oppressed people who must beg for protection by appealing to the benevolence of the dominant nation, protection we do not receive everywhere and that we do not receive anywhere without certain restrictions. My coreligionists gladly renounce freedoms that are granted to every other human being, and they are content if they are tolerated and protected. They must rate it no small kindness for a nation to accept them under tolerable conditions, since in many a state even residence is denied them. Is it not the case, given the laws of your native town, that your circumcised friend is not even allowed to visit you in Zurich? What gratitude do my fellow believers thus not owe to the dominant nation that includes them within its universal love of mankind and allows them, without any impediment, to pray to the Almighty in accordance with the ways of their fathers! They enjoy the most respectable freedom in the state in which I live. Should their members not shrink from challenging their protectors in the flank that for virtuous people must be the most sensitive one?
I decided always to act in accordance with these principles, and because of them I decided to avoid religious disputes with the utmost care if no extraordinary cause should force me to change my mind. I have been bold enough to pass over in silence the private challenges of estimable men, and I thought that I might scorn the entreaties of the small minds who have thought that they could publically attack me on account of my religion. But the solemn appeal of a Lavater forces me at least to reveal my convictions publically, so that no one will take an inordinate silence for contempt or confession.
I have attentively read the book by Bonnet that you have translated. Given what I explained a moment ago, the question is no longer whether or not I found myself convinced. I must confess, however, that even when it was regarded in its own way as a defense of the Christian religion, it did not seem to me to possess the merit that you find in it. I know from his other works that Mr. Bonnet is an excellent writer, but I have read many a defense of the same religion not by Englishmen, but by our German countrymen, that seemed to me to be much more accomplished and more philosophical than this one by Bonnet, which you recommend to me for the purpose of converting me. If I am not mistaken, most of this writer’s hypotheses were grown on German soil, and the author of the Essai de psychologie, which Mr. Bonnet follows so faithfully, has German philosophers to thank for nearly everything. When it is a matter of philosophical principles, the German rarely needs to borrow from his neighbors.
Moreover, in my opinion, the most accomplished part of this work consists of the general reflections with which Mr. Bonnet begins. For the application and use that he makes of them in defense of his religion seemed to me to be so impermissible and so arbitrary that I almost entirely failed to recognize a Bonnet in them. I find it disagreeable that my judgment must prove to be so different from yours. It seems to me as if Mr. Bonnet’s inner conviction and laudable zeal for his religion lent a weight to his arguments that another person cannot find herein. Most of his conclusions seem to me to follow so little from his premises that I would dare to defend any religion with the same reasons. Perhaps the author himself is not to be blamed for this; he can only have written for such readers who, like him, are convinced and read only to strengthen their faith. If writer and reader agree about the result, then they will soon come to an agreement about the reasons. But, sir, I rightly wonder at the fact that you consider this book sufficient for persuading a person who, given his principles, must be partial to an opposing view. You cannot possibly have put yourself in the mind of a person who does not bring along his conviction, but rather is first supposed to find it in this work. But if you did so and yet believe, as you give us to understand, that Socrates himself would have to find Mr. Bonnet’s arguments irrefutable, then one of us is certainly a remarkable example of the power that prejudice and upbringing have over even those who seek the truth with a sincere heart.
I have now indicated the reasons why I desire so much never to engage in disputes about religious issues. But I have also let you know that I am quite capable of saying something in opposition to the Bonnet book. If you insist, then I must ignore my doubts and resolve to publish Counter-
Source: Michah Gottlieb, ed., Moses Mendelssohn: Writings on Judaism, Christianity, and the Bible (Lebanon, N.H.: University Press of New England, 2011), pp. 6–
Questions to Consider