on us to think establishes the free scope of freedom in which free nature may abide. The originary nature of freedom keeps itself concealed in the calling by which it is given to mortal to think what is most thought-provoking. Freedom, therefore, is never something merely human, nor merely divine; still less is freedom the mere reflection of their belonging together.
As soon as the call calls on us to think, it has placed at our call what it calls for—thinking. What is called for now has a name, is called thus and so. What is that name which names what is called for? Surely the word "thinking."
However, this word "thinking," as it is sounded in speech, obviously belongs to one particular language. Thinking, however, is a matter common to all mankind. it is impossible to glean the nature of thinking from the mere signification of one solitary word in one particular language, and then to offer the result as binding. Surely not. The only thing we can glean that way is that something remains doubtful here. However: the same doubt affects the common, human, logical thinking—provided that henceforth we make up our minds no longer to ignore the fact that logic, all that belongs to logos, is also only a single word in the singular and particular language of the Greeks—and not just in its sound structure.
What does this word "thinking" say? Let us give close attention to what the words "thinking," "thought" have to tell. With these words something has entered language—not just of late, but long ago. But though it entered language, it did not get through. It has gone back into the unspoken, so that we cannot reach it without some further effort. In any event, if we are to give due attention to what has entered language with the words "thought" and "thinking," we must go back into the history of language. One of the ways that lead there is written history. By now it is a science, in our case the science of philology.
However, attention to what the words tell is here supposed