# Philosophical Works of the Late James Frederick Ferrier/Lectures on Greek Philosophy (1888)/Thales

Lectures on Greek Philosophy, Philosophical Works of the Late James Frederick Ferrier (1888 ed., Vol. 2). (E. L. Lushington, & A. Grant, Eds.) Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons. pp. 34-47.
IONIC SCHOOL.
THALES.
1. I now proceed to consider the philosophy of Thales, if indeed the term philosophy may be applied to so meagre and barren a system. Thales and the other inquirers of the Ionic school appear at first sight naturalists (physici rather than philosophers). When these systems are looked at in their letter they seem to be entirely physical; it is only when their spirit is attended to that they can be pronounced to some extent philosophical. First, then, What did Thales regard as the ultimately real, the absolutely true? For, as was formerly said, this is what philosophy undertakes; or at least endeavours, to ascertain. The determination of this question is identical with the search for unity amid multiplicity; in other words, is identical with an agency after some common principle, which is the groundwork of all things, and which remains unchanged amid all the changes of the universe. What, then, according to Thales, is the ultimately real, the one in the many, the ​permanent principle of the universe, the principle to which all intelligence must yield assent?
2. Thales answers, that this principle is water; that water is ultimately real—the groundwork and origin of all that is. It is probable that by the term water he did not mean the element under the ordinary and palpable form in which it is presented to our senses, but under some more subtle or occult form of moisture or fluidity.
3. That water plays a most important part in the economy of nature is a truth too obvious to be overlooked. All the functions of animal and vegetable life depend on the presence of this agent, and it is scarcely possible to conceive the world subsisting without it. If any one element may be regarded as the parent of all that lives, as the condition on which the beauty and magnificence of nature depend, water has probably the best claim to be regarded as that element. Without moisture the universe would be a heap of ashes: add moisture, and the desert blossoms like the rose These are reflections which could scarcely fail to present themselves to the earliest observers of nature; and, accordingly, we find that Thales gave expression to these reflections in the doctrine which announced that water was the principle and origin of all things.
4. Aristotle, commenting on the doctrine of Thales, ​confirms these remarks. In his Metaphysics (B. i. ch. 3) Aristotle says, that Thales was probably led to the opinion that water is the universal principle "from observing that all nourishment is moist, that heat is generated from moisture, and that life is sustained by heat. He observed that the seeds of all things were in their nature moist—this moisture they must derive from water; and hence Thales," continues Aristotle, "held that water was the principle from which all things proceeded."
5. Aristotle then goes on to consider how far this doctrine of Thales may have been traditional. "There are some," says he, "who think that our very remote ancestors entertained theological speculations of the same character concerning nature. For they made Oceanus and Tethys the parents of generation; and water, under the poetical name of Styx, this they made the oath of the gods; for that which is the most ancient is the most respected; but the oath is the most highly respected of all things." The meaning of this is, that the gods swear by Styx, that is, by water; but the gods swear by what they respect most, but what they respect most is the most ancient and the most permanent of all things, in other words, is the ultimately real and true; and, therefore, water being that which they swear by must be the ultimately real and true. Thus, you observe that Aristotle traces the opinion of Thales up to a theological tradition respecting the ​oath of the gods. There is an old dogma, he says, that the gods swear by water; but what the gods swear by must be the most ancient, the most sure and steadfast—must be the ground of everything—the very kernel, as we may say, of the universe. Therefore, water must be the ground or kernel of everything. Thales translated into philosophy this old mythological tradition.
6. Here it naturally occurs to one to ask how Thales derived the various objects of the universe from the single principle of water? The only explanation offered is, that these diversified objects are formed by means of a process of thickening or of thinning, which water undergoes. Aristotle's words in reference to this process, although it is somewhat doubtful whether he is speaking of Thales when he uses them, are πυκνότης καὶ μανότης, i.e., a thickening and a thinning, a close consistency and a loose consistency. Water, when its consistency is loose, becomes vapour or air, when its consistency is still looser it becomes a fiery ether; in the same way thickened water becomes slime, and slime, when further condensed, becomes earth. In other words, the rarefaction of the watery principle yields air and fire; the condensation of the watery principle yields slime and earth, and out of the earth all things are produced. Water is thus a very Proteus, which presents itself to us under manifold forms in all the objects we behold. What we call water is only one ​of these forms. Perhaps we may understand this by considering that it is really impossible to say what the proper form or peculiar nature of water is. Water fluid is water commonly so called; water solid is ice; water rarefied is vapour or steam, and no man can say that the one of these is more water than the other. We assume fluidity as the normal state of water, and reckon ice and steam deviations from this; but it would be just as correct to assume ice or steam as the normal state.
7. If we further ask how the machinery of the universe is originally set in motion—how this condensation and rarefaction of water is brought about? the only answer we obtain is, in the words of Diogenes Laertius (Lib. i. § 27), who says that, according to Thales, the world is animated and full of gods: or, in the words of Plutarch (De Placitis Phil. i. 7), who says that Thales has proclaimed God as the intelligent principle (νοῦς) of the world: or, in the words of Cicero (De Nat. Deor. i. 10), who says, "Thales Milesius . . . aquam dixit esse initium rerum, Deum autem eam mentem quæ ex aqua cuncta fingeret;" i.e., Thales the Milesian asserted that water is the origin of all things, and that God is the presiding or quickening mind who formed all things out of water.
8. That Thales contended for some sort of universal soul or life in nature is in the highest degree ​probable; but that this soul was conceived by him as an intelligent principle, or that he inculcated the natural theology which Plutarch and Cicero give him credit for, is disproved by the assertion of Aristotle, who says expressly that Anaxagoras, a philosopher considerably subsequent to Thales, was the first who held that intelligence was the principle of the universe. Thales, therefore, cannot be held to have propounded a scheme of natural theology.
9. The philosophy of Thales reduces itself to the following five points: first, he contemplates the universe from a physical point of view; secondly, he seeks for a principle of unity, he inquires after the common element, the primary and permanent essence of all things; thirdly, he finds this in something sensible and material, namely, in water or moisture; fourthly, he accounts for the various appearances of nature, for the different objects which the universe presents to us, by means of a thickening or a thinning of the original element, water—water is the substance, the essential, and these are merely its phenomena; fifthly, he ascribes to the universe a power of motion and of life by which the various changes that take place, and the various objects it contains, are produced. These five heads embrace, I think, the whole philosophy of Thales, in so far as it is known to us.
10. The results of this system, when regarded as ​facts, are, it must be confessed, unsatisfactory enough. They are, indeed, utterly worthless. Considered as a statement of facts, the system has no interest whatever, either physical or philosophical. The facts are not true, and the explanations explain nothing; but even though the facts were true, and the explanations explanatory, they would be of no speculative value, for they are merely a description of the universe according to sense, and not according to reason.
11. To see any merit in this early system we must turn away from it in its dogmatic form; we must let it go as a statement of fact, and must look merely to its general spirit and tendency. When we look to this, we are able to rate at a higher value these inefficient essays in philosophy. The very conception of reducing the diversified exuberance, the infinite plenitude, of nature to the unity of one principle, showed a speculative boldness which proved that a new intellectual era was dawning on mankind. To perceive that truth was to be found in the one, and not in the many, was no insignificant discovery. To be convinced that a thread of simplicity ran through all the complex phenomena of the universe was the inauguration of a new epoch—was a great step taken in advance of all that had gone before—was, in fact, the very first movement which gave birth to science among men. This incipient generalisation, or tendency to generalise, as we see it put forth in these old philosophies, is the earliest attempt made by the ​mind of man to reduce to comprehension nature's infinite details; and as such it stands opposed, first, to the mythological spirit of those ancient times; secondly, to the ascendancy of the senses; and, thirdly, it proves that the cogency of necessary truth was now beginning, although obscurely, to be appreciated.
12. I shall say a few words on each of these points separately. First, the spirit of generalisation, or the tendency to carry up the phenomena of nature to the unity of one principle, or to the simplicity of a few principles; this tendency is directly opposed to those old poetical dreams respecting nature, which gave birth to the Greek mythology. Mythology ran riot in a plurality or multitude of powers which it invoked, and to which it assigned the government of the universe; but philosophy, on the contrary, aimed at a unity of agency or causation in all things. In the old Greek mythology the number of divine agents (or celestial powers, greater and lesser) was infinite. While there was one general patron-god for woods and forests, each grove had, moreover, its presiding divinity; even each particular tree had its tutelar protector. There was one patron-god who presided over seas, rivers, and fountains; but each river and fountain had also its particular nymph, and I believe that I speak within the limits of the mythological spirit when I say that each individual wave floated its tiny god. The same may be said of every mountain and cave, and of every other natural object. ​Even the cloud-compelling Jove himself, even he owed his supremacy as the general father of gods and men, and as the general ruler of the universe, rather to the elevated region in which he was supposed to dwell, the summit of cloud-capped Olympus, than to the notion of any universal presidency which he exercised over all created things.
Now, to these poetical fancies the philosophy of Thales, crude as it is, stands opposed. The mythological disposition aims, we may say, at finding the manifold in the manifold. It is satisfied with the infinitude of nature, and makes no attempt to reduce her phenomena to finitude and unity. If it is animated by the desire to reach the ultimately real, it is directed in this pursuit, not by the reason, but solely by feeling and imagination. Philosophy, on the other hand, aims at finding the one in the manifold. It attempts, by means of some principle, to reduce to unity the innumerable phenomena which press upon us from every side. Its researches are guided, not by the imagination, but by the reason. Even the philosophy of Thales evinces this tendency. It indicates a disposition of mind antagonistic to the mythological disposition, and therefore, meagre though it be, it is entitled to be regarded as the fountainhead of the great river of science which is now flowing through the world.
Secondly, another point of interest to be found ​in the philosophy of Thales, when we look away from the letter of the system, and regard rather its general scope, is that it stands opposed to the authoritative deliverances of the senses. That the mind of man should throw back and away from it the rich fulness and the diversified forms of sensible existence, and should strive to reduce them all to one primitive element, this was a bold and a novel procedure. It showed that the mind, in its pursuit of the ultimately real, was beginning to emancipate itself from the ascendancy which the senses had hitherto exercised in determining its decisions. It showed that the senses were beginning to lose their authority as the criterion of ultimate truth, and that a tendency to appeal to a different tribunal, the tribunal, not of sense, but of thought or reason, was beginning to declare itself. It was not truth for some, truth acquired through the particular faculty, that was now aimed at, it was rather truth for all; truth to which every mind could and must respond, whether it had senses such as ours or not; truth, in short, for the universal faculty in our nature. This emancipation of the philosophic mind was carried, indeed, to no great length in the school of Thales and the other Ionic speculators. Sense, in fact, still remained the criterion of truth; all that can be affirmed is, that there was a tendency to rise to a different standard, the standard of thought and reason, in the settlement of philosophical questions—the tendency to find something which should ​be true for all intellect, and not merely for our intellect; and this tendency showed itself unmistakably in the reduction of all sensible phenomena to one sensible principle—to wit, water, or moisture.
But, thirdly, another important feature in the philosophy of Thales, when we look to its general spirit, is its recognition of the necessities of thought. It is founded on necessary thinking. There is, indeed, no necessity for our thinking that water is the unity, the common principle in all things; but there is a necessity for our thinking that there is some unity, some common principle in all things. This is what we cannot help thinking. It is a necessity of reason that we should think some central principle in all that is. There must be an element of agreement in all things. Because, to suppose two things absolutely and in all respects different from each other, would involve the supposition that one of them was a thing and that the other was not a thing at all. But the supposition is that both of them are things, therefore they cannot differ absolutely, but must agree in some respect; and that respect in which they agree is their unity, their common quality, or, as we frequently express it, their universal. That there is a universal, then, a point of unity or agreement in all things, this is a necessary truth of reason. This truth is the basis of all intelligence, and the recognition of it is the basis of all philosophy. What the universal ​in all things is, is a very different question, and one not easily settled, as the whole history of philosophy shows. It certainly is not water, as Thales maintains. But that there is a universal, some common ground, in all things, this is a truth which forces itself upon us whether we will or not. It is no opinion, no arbitrary excogitation, but a thought which we cannot help thinking, a law or category binding on all intelligence. And the chief merit or value of the philosophy of Thales consists in its having recognised implicitly, for I cannot say that it did so explicitly, the necessity of this truth or law.
13. In estimating, then, the philosophy of Thales according to its general scope, we find the following points to be approved of as philosophical. First, this system inquires after the ultimately real. Secondly, it is a substitution, to some extent, of philosophic thought in the room of the creations of fancy, inasmuch as it is antagonistic to the mythological manner of viewing things. Thirdly, it is a rejection, to some extent, of the authority of the senses as the criterion of truth, and it is the establishment, to some extent, of a new criterion; and, fourthly, it is founded implicitly, though not explicitly, on the recognition of necessary truth, inasmuch as it proceeds on the idea that unity, or a universal, is the ultimately real in all things. These four points contain, I think, all that can be called philosophical in the system of Thales; and these points are gathered; not directly from the ​system itself, but are obtained by considering its general scope and tendency.
14. When we look to the system itself, when we try it by its letter and not by its spirit, in other words, when we regard it as a dogmatic statement of facts, it is seen at once to be exceedingly imperfect; to be destitute, indeed, of all philosophical value. There is no rational proof given, no sufficient evidence adduced, to show that water is the principle of all things. Still less is any rational explanation afforded as to how the various forms of actual existence are evolved by means of a thickening and a thinning of water; and the system leaves us completely in the dark in regard to the active or formative energy by which things are produced. But, setting these imperfections aside, the two objections most fatal to the system are these: first, that the universal which it sets forth is a mere sensible universal; and, secondly, being such, it is not a true universal, not a universal at all. The consideration of these two points will conclude what I have to say on the philosophy of Thales, and will open the way for the system of his successor Anaximander, in which an attempt is made to obviate the objections referred to. You will thus perceive how the system of Anaximander is affiliated to that of Thales. This connection, this genesis of one system out of another, is in fact the most important matter to be attended to and kept in view in studying the history of philosophy.
​The first objection is, that the universal which the system of Thales sets forth is a mere sensible universal. This is obvious from the consideration that, let us form what conception of water we may, we still think of it under some form of sensible representation. It is originally made known by the senses; and however delicate and subtle the form may be in which we endeavour to construe moisture to our minds, it still retains, in our conception, to a greater or less degree, the form under which we originally apprehended it. In other words, water or moisture is, in the first instance, an object of sense, a sensible presentation; and when we imagine it, or construe it to our minds, in the second instance, it is always a sensible representation.
In regard to the second ground of objection, I shall merely remark that water, the universal principle of all things according to Thales, being a sensible universal, is consequently not a necessary truth, not a truth for all intelligence, but only for those who are endowed with senses similar to ours. And consequently this system must be set aside as insufficient, inasmuch as it does not meet the requisitions of philosophy, philosophy being, according to our definition, that science which aims at the attainment of absolute truth, that is, of truth as it exists, not for some, but for all intelligence.