[1. Thales.]

With Thales we, properly speaking, first begin the history of Philosophy. The life of Thales occurred at the time when the Ionic towns were under the dominion of Crœsus. Through his overthrow (Ol. 58, 1; 548 B.C.), an appearance of freedom was produced, yet the most of these towns were conquered by the Persians, and Thales survived the catastrophe only a few years. He was born at Miletus; his family is, by Diogenes (I. 22, 37), stated to be the Phœnician one of Thelides, and the date of his birth, according to the best calculation, is placed in the first year of the 35th Olympiad (640 B.C.), but according to Meiners it was a couple of Olympiads later (38th Olympiad, 629 B.C.). Thales lived as a statesman partly with Crœsus and partly in Miletus. Herodotus quotes him several times, and tells (I. 75) that, according to the narratives of the Greeks, when Crœsus went to battle against Cyrus and had difficulty in passing over the river Halys, Thales, who accompanied the army, diverted the river by a trench, which he made in the form of a crescent behind the camp, so that it could then be forded. Diogenes (I. 25) says further of him as regards his relations to his country, that he restrained the men of Miletus from allying themselves with Crœsus when he went against Cyrus, and that hence, after the conquest of Crœsus, when the other Ionic States were subdued by the Persians, the inhabitants of Miletus alone remained undisturbed. Diogenes records, moreover (I. 23), that he soon withdrew his attention from the affairs of the State and devoted himself entirely to science.

Voyages to Phœnicia are recorded of him, which, however, rest on vague tradition; but that he was in Egypt in his old age seems undoubted.[19] There he was said to have learned geometry, but this would appear not to have been much, judging from the anecdote, which Diogenes (I. 24, 27) retails from a certain Hieronymus. It was to the effect that Thales taught the Egyptians to measure the height of their pyramids by shadow—by taking the relation borne by the height of a man to his shadow. The terms of the proportion are: as the shadow of a man is to the height of a man, so is the shadow of a pyramid to its height. If this were something new to the Egyptians, they must have been very far back in the theory of geometry. Herodotus tells (I. 74), moreover, that Thales foretold an eclipse of the sun that happened exactly on the day of the battle between the Medians and Lydians, and that he ascribed the rising of the Nile to the contrary Etesian winds, which drove back the waters.[20] We have some further isolated instances of, and anecdotes about his astronomical knowledge and works.[21] “In gazing at and making observations on the stars, he fell into a ditch, and the people mocked him as one who had knowledge of heavenly objects and yet could not see what lay at his own feet.” The people laugh at such things, and boast that philosophers cannot tell them about such matters; but they do not understand that philosophers laugh at them, for they do not fall into a ditch just because they lie in one for all time, and because they cannot see what exists above them. He also showed, according to Diogenes (I. 26), that a wise man, if he wishes, can easily acquire riches. It is more important that he fixed that the year, as solar year, should have 365 days. The anecdote of the golden tripod to be given to the wisest man, is recorded by Diogenes (I. 27-33); and it carries with it considerable weight, because he combines all the different versions of the story. The tripod was given to Thales or to Bias; Thales gave it to some one else, and thus it went through a circle until it again came to Thales; the latter, or else Solon, decided that Apollo was wisest, and sent it to Didyma or to Delphi. Thales died, according to Diogenes (I. 38), aged seventy-eight or ninety, in the 58th Olympiad; according to Tennemann (vol. i. p. 414), it was in Olympiad 59, 2 (543 B.C.), when Pythagoras came to Crotona. Diogenes relates that he died at one of the games, overcome by heat and thirst.

We have no writings by Thales, and we do not know whether he was in the habit of writing. Diogenes Laertius (I. 23, 34, 35) speaks of two hundred verses on astronomy, and some maxims, such as “It is not the many words that have most meaning.”

As to his philosophy, he is universally recognized as the first natural philosopher, but all one knows of him is little, and yet we seem to know the most of what there is. For since we find that the further philosophic progress of which his speculative idea was capable, and the understanding of his propositions, which they alone could have, make their first appearance and form particular epochs with the philosophers succeeding him, who may be recognized thereby, this development ascribed to Thales never took place with him at all. Thus if it is the case that a number of his other reflections have been lost, they cannot have had any particular speculative value; and his philosophy does not show itself to be an imperfect system from want of information about it, but because the first philosophy cannot be a system.

We must listen to Aristotle as regards these ancient philosophers, for he speaks most sympathetically of them. In the passage of most importance (Metaph. I. 3), he says: “Since it is clear that we must acquire the science of first causes (ἐξ ἀρχῆς αἰτίν), seeing that we say that a person knows a thing when he becomes acquainted with its cause, there are, we must recollect, four causes—Being and Form first (for the ‘why’ is finally led back to the Notion, but yet the first ‘why’ is a cause and principle); matter and substratum, second; the cause whence comes the beginning of movement, third; and fourth the cause which is opposed to this, the aim in view and the good (for that is the end of every origination). Hence we would make mention of those who have undertaken the investigation of Being before us, and have speculated regarding the Truth, for they openly advance certain principles and first causes. If we take them under our consideration, it will be of this advantage, so far as our present investigation goes, that we shall either find other kinds of causes or be enabled to have so much the more confidence in those just named. Most of the earliest philosophers have placed the principles of everything in something in the form of matter (ἐν ὕλης εἴδει), for, that from which everything existent comes, and out of which it takes its origin as its first source, and into which it finally sinks, as substance (οὐσία), ever remains the same and only changes in its particular qualities (πάθεσι); and this is called the element (στοιχεῖον) and this the principle of all that exists” (the absolute prius). “On this account they maintain that nothing arises or passes away, because the same nature always remains. For instance, we say that, absolutely speaking, Socrates neither originates if he becomes beautiful or musical, nor does he pass away if he loses these qualities, because the subject (τὸ ὑποκείμενον), Socrates, remains the same. And so it is with all else. For there must be one nature, or more than one, from which all else arises, because it maintains its existence” (σωζομένης ἐκείνης), that means that in its change there is no reality or truth. “All do not coincide as to the number of this principle or as to its description (εἶδος); Thales, the founder of this philosophy,” (which recognizes something material as the principle and substance of all that is), “says that it is water. Hence he likewise asserts the earth to be founded on water.” Water is thus the ὑποκείμενον, the first ground, and, according to Seneca’s statement (Quæst. Nat. vi. 6), it seems to him to be not so much the inside of the earth, as what encloses it which is the universal existence; for “Thales considered that the whole earth has water as its support (subjecto humore), and that it swims thereon.”

We might first of all expect some explanation of the application of these principles, as, for example, how it is to be proved that water is the universal substance, and in what way particular forms are deduced from it. But as to this we must say that of Thales in particular, we know nothing more than his principle, which is that water is the god over all. No more do we know anything further of Anaximander, Anaximenes and Diogenes than their principles. Aristotle brings forward a conjecture as to how Thales derived everything directly out of water, “Perhaps (ἴσως) the conclusions of Thales have been brought about from the reflection that it was evident that all nourishment is moist, and warmth itself comes out of moisture and thereby life continues. But that from which anything generates is the principle of all things. This was one reason for holding this theory, and another reason is contained in the fact that all germs are moist in character, and water is the principle of what is moist.” It is necessary to remark that the circumstances introduced by Aristotle with a “perhaps” which are supposed to have brought about the conclusions of Thales, making water the absolute essence of everything, are not adduced as the grounds acknowledged by Thales. And furthermore, they can hardly be called grounds, for what Aristotle does is rather to establish, as we would say from actuality, that the latter corresponds to the universal idea of water. His successors, as for instance Pseudo-Plutarch (De plac. phil. I. 3), have taken Thales’ assertion as positive and not hypothetical; Tiedmann (Geist der spec. Phil. vol. I. p. 36) remarks with great reason that Plutarch omits the “perhaps.” For Plutarch says, “Thales suggests (στοχάζεται) that everything takes its origin from water and resolves itself into the same, because as the germs of all that live have moisture as the principle of life, all else might likewise (εἰκός) take its principle from moisture; for all plants draw their nourishment, and thus bear fruit, from water, and if they are without it, fade away; and even the fires of sun, and stars and world are fed through the evaporation of water.” Aristotle is contented with simply showing in regard to moisture that, at least, it is everywhere to be found. Since Plutarch gives more definite grounds for holding that water is the simple essence of things, we must see whether things, in so far as they are simple essence, are water, (α) The germ of the animal, of moist nature, is undoubtedly the animal as the simple actual, or as the essence of its actuality, or undeveloped actuality. (β) If, with plants, water may be regarded as for their nourishment, nourishment is still only the being of a thing as formless substance that first becomes individualized by individuality, and thus succeeds in obtaining form. (γ) To make sun, moon and the whole world arise through evaporation, like the food of plants, certainly approximates to the idea of the ancients, who did not allow the sun and moon to have obtained independence as we do.

“There are also some,” continues Aristotle, “who hold that all the ancients who, at the first and long before the present generation, made theology their study, understood Nature thus. They made Oceanus and Tethys the producers of all origination (τῆς γενέσεως), and water, which by the poets is called Styx, the oath of the gods. For what is most ancient is most revered, and the oath is that most held in reverence.” This old tradition has within it speculative significance. If anything cannot be proved or is devoid of objective form, such as we have in respect of payment in a discharge, or in witnesses who have seen the transaction, the oath, the confirmation of myself as object, expresses the fact that my assurance is absolute truth. Now since, by way of confirmation, men swear by what is best, by what is absolutely certain, and the gods swore by the subterranean water, it follows that the essence of pure thought, the inmost being, the reality in which consciousness finds its truth, is water; I, so to speak, express this clear certainty of myself as object, as God.

1. The closer consideration of this principle in its bearings would have no interest. For since the whole philosophy of Thales lies in the fact that water is this principle, the only point of interest can be to ask how far that principle is important and speculative. Thales comprehends essence as devoid of form. While the sensuous certitude of each thing in its individuality is not questioned, this objective actuality is now to be raised into the Notion that reflects itself into itself and is itself to be set forth as Notion; in commencement this is seen in the world’s being manifested as water, or as a simple universal. Fluid is, in its Notion, life, and hence it is water itself, spiritually expressed; in the so-called grounds or reasons, on the contrary, water has the form of existent universal. We certainly grant this universal activity of water, and for that reason call it an element, a physical universal power; but while we find it thus to be the universal of activity, we also find it to be this actual, not everywhere, but in proximity to other elements—earth, air and fire. Water thus has not got a sensuous universality, but a speculative one merely; to be speculative universality, however, would necessitate its being Notion and having what is sensuous removed. Here we have the strife between sensuous universality and universality of the Notion. The real essence of nature has to be defined, that is, nature has to be expressed as the simple essence of thought. Now simple essence, the Notion of the universal, is that which is devoid of form, but this water as it is, comes into the determination of form, and is thus, in relation to others, a particular existence just like everything that is natural. Yet as regards the other elements, water is determined as formless and simple, while the earth is that which has points, air is the element of all change, and fire evidently changes into itself. Now if the need of unity impels us to recognize for separate things a universal, water, although it has the drawback of being a particular thing, can easily be utilized as the One, both on account of its neutrality, and because it is more material than air.