But we must specify more particularly their character and point of view. The Greeks have a starting-point in history as truly as they have arisen from out of themselves: this starting-point, comprehended in thought, is the oriental substantiality of the natural unity between the spiritual and the natural. To start from the self, to live in the self, is the other extreme of abstract subjectivity, when it is still empty, or rather has made itself to be empty; such is pure formalism, the abstract principle of the modern world. The Greeks stand between both these extremes in the happy medium; this therefore is the medium of beauty, seeing that it is both natural and spiritual, but yet that the spiritual still remains the governing, determining subject. Mind immersed in nature is in substantial unity with it, and in so far as it is consciousness, it is essentially sensuous perception: as subjective consciousness it is certainly form-giving though it is devoid of measure. For the Greeks, the substantial unity of nature and spirit was a fundamental principle, and thus being in the possession and knowledge of this, yet not being overwhelmed in it, but having retired into themselves, they have avoided the extreme of formal subjectivity, and are still in unity with themselves. Thus it is a free subject which still possesses that original unity in content, essence and substratum, and fashions its object into beauty. The stage reached by Greek consciousness is the stage of beauty. For beauty is the ideal; it is the thought which is derived from Mind, but in such a way that the spiritual individuality is not yet explicit as abstract subjectivity that has then in itself to perfect its existence into a world of thought. What is natural and sensuous still pertains to this subjectivity, but yet the natural form has not equal dignity and rank with the other, nor is it predominant as is the case in the East. The principle of the spiritual now stands first in rank, and natural existence has no further value for itself, in its existent forms, being the mere expression of the Mind shining through, and having been reduced to be the vehicle and form of its existence. Mind, however, has not yet got itself as a medium whereby it can represent itself in itself, and from which it can form its world.
Thus free morality could and necessarily did find a place in Greece, for the spiritual substance of freedom was here the principle of morals, laws and constitutions. Because the natural element is, however, still contained in it, the form taken by the morality of the state is still affected by what is natural; the states are small individuals in their natural condition, which could not unite themselves into one whole. Since the universal does not exist in independent freedom, that which is spiritual still is limited. In the Greek world what is potentially and actually eternal is realized and brought to consciousness through Thought; but in such a way that subjectivity confronts it in a determination which is still accidental, because it is still essentially related to what is natural; and in this we find the reason as promised above, for the fact that in Greece the few alone are free.
The measureless quality of substance in the East is brought, by means of the Greek mind, into what is measurable and limited; it is clearness, aim, limitation of forms, the reduction of what is measureless, and of infinite splendour and riches, to determinateness and individuality. The riches of the Greek world consist only of an infinite quantity of beautiful, lovely and pleasing individualities in the serenity which pervades all existence; those who are greatest amongst the Greeks are the individualities, the connoisseurs in art, poetry, song, science, integrity and virtue. If the serenity of the Greeks, their beautiful gods, statues, and temples, as well as their serious work, their institutions and acts, may seem—compared to the splendour and sublimity, the colossal forms of oriental imagination, the Egyptian buildings of Eastern kingdoms—to be like child’s play, this is the case yet more with the thought that comes into existence here. Such thought puts a limit on this wealth of individualities as on the oriental greatness, and reduces it into its one simple soul, which, however, is in itself the first source of the opulence of a higher ideal world, of the world of Thought.
“From out of thy passions, oh, man,” exclaimed an ancient, “thou hast derived the materials for thy gods,” just as the Easterns, and especially the Indians, did from the elements, powers and forms of Nature. One may add, “out of Thought thou takest the element and material for God.” Thus Thought is the ground from which God comes forth, but it is not Thought in its commencement that constitutes the first principle from which all culture must be grasped. It is quite the other way. In the beginning, thought comes forth as altogether poor, abstract, and of a content which is meagre in comparison to that given to his subject by the oriental; for as immediate, the beginning is just in the form of nature, and this it shares with what is oriental. Because it thus reduces the content of the East to determinations which are altogether poor, these thoughts are scarcely worth observation on our part, since they are not yet proper thoughts, neither being in the form of, or determined as thought, but belonging really to Nature. Thus Thought is the Absolute, though not as Thought. That is, we have always two things to distinguish, the universal or the Notion, and the reality of this universal, for the question here arises as to whether the reality is itself Thought or Nature. We find in the fact that reality at first has still the immediate form and is only Thought potentially, the reason for commencing with the Greeks and from the natural philosophy of the Ionic school.
As regards the external and historical condition of Greece at this time, Greek philosophy commences in the sixth century before Christ in the time of Cyrus, and in the period of decline in the Ionic republics in Asia Minor. Just because this world of beauty which raised itself into a higher kind of culture went to pieces, Philosophy arose. Crœsus and the Lydians first brought Ionic freedom into jeopardy; later on the Persians were those who destroyed it altogether, so that the greater part of the inhabitants sought other spots and created colonies, more particularly in the West. At the time of the decline in Ionic towns, the other Greece ceased to be under its ancient lines of kings; the Pelopideans and the other, and for the most part foreign, princely races had passed away. Greece had in many ways come into touch with the outside world and the Greek inhabitants likewise sought within themselves for a bond of fellowship. The patriarchal life was past, and in many states it came to be a necessity that they should constitute themselves as free, organized and regulated by law. Many individuals come into prominence who were no more rulers of their fellow-citizens by descent, but who were by means of talent, power of imagination and scientific knowledge, marked out and reverenced, and such individuals came into many different relations with their fellows. Part of them became advisers, but their advice was frequently not followed; part of them were hated and despised by their fellow-citizens, and they drew back from public affairs; others became violent, if not fierce governors of the other citizens, and others again finally became the administrators of liberty.
[The Seven Sages.] Amongst these men just characterized, the seven sages—in modern times excluded from the history of Philosophy—take their place. In as far as they may be reckoned as milestones in the history of Philosophy, something about their character should, in the commencement of Philosophy, be shortly said. They came into prominence, partly as taking part in the battles of the Ionic towns, partly as expatriated, and partly as individuals of distinction in Greece. The names of the seven are given differently: usually, however, as Thales, Solon, Periander, Cleobulus, Chilon, Bias, Pittacus. Hermippus in Diogenes Laertius (1, 42) specifies seventeen, and, amongst these, various people pick out seven in various ways. According to Diogenes Laertius (1, 41) Dicæarchus, who came still earlier in history, only names four, and these are placed amongst the seven by all; they are Thales, Bias, Pittacus and Solon. Besides these, Myson, Anacharsis, Acusilaus, Epimenides, Pherecydes, &c., are mentioned. Dicæarchus in Diogenes (1, 40), says of them that they are neither wise men (σοφούς) nor philosophers, but men of understanding (συνετξύς) and law-givers; this judgment has become the universal one and is held to be just. They come in a period of transition amongst the Greeks—a transition from a patriarchal system of kings into one of law or force. The fame of the wisdom of these men depends, on the one hand, on the fact that they grasped the practical essence of consciousness, or the consciousness of universal morality as it is in and for itself, giving expression to it in the form of moral maxims and in part in civil laws, making these actual in the state; on the other hand it depends on their having, in theoretic form, expressed the same in witty sayings. Some of these sayings could not merely be regarded as thoughtful or good reflections, but in so far, as philosophic and speculative; they have a comprehensive, universal significance ascribed to them, which, however, does not explain them. These men have not really made science and Philosophy their aim; it is expressly said of Thales that it was in the latter part of his life that he first took to Philosophy. What had relation to politics appeared most frequently; they were practical men, men of affairs, but not in our sense of the word; with us practical activity devotes itself to a special line of administration or to a particular business, or to economics, &c. They lived in democratic states and thus shared the responsibilities of the general administration and rule. They were not statesmen like the great Greek personalities, like Miltiades, Themistocles, Pericles and Demosthenes, but they were statesmen in a time when safety, preservation and, indeed, the whole well-being, disposition and well nigh the very foundation of civic life were in question; and certainly when this was so with the foundations of legally established institutions.
Thales and Bias thus appear as the representatives of the Ionic towns. Herodotus (I. 169-171) speaks of both, and says of Thales that he advised even before the overthrow of the Ionians (apparently through Crœsus), that they should constitute a supreme council (ἓν βουλευτήριον) in Teos, in the centre of the Ionian people, and thus make a federal state with a capital and principal federal town, so that they might still remain separate nations (δῆμοι) as before. However, they did not follow this advice, and this isolated and weakened them, and the result was their conquest; it has always been a difficult thing for the Greeks to give up their individuality. Later on, when Harpagus, the general of Cyrus who accomplished their overthrow, pressed in upon them, the Ionians took no better the most excellent advice of Bias of Priene, given them at the decisive moment when they were assembled at Panionium, “to go in a common fleet to Sardinia, there to found an Ionic state. By so doing they would escape servitude, be happy, and, inhabiting the largest island, subdue the others. But if they remained in Ionia there was no hope of liberty to be seen for them.” Herodotus gives his corroboration to this advice—“If they had followed him they would have been the happiest of Greeks.” Such things take place, but through force and not voluntarily.
We find the other sages under similar conditions. Solon was an administrator in Athens, and thereby became famous; few men have attained the honourable position of being a law-giver. Solon shares it with Moses, Lycurgus, Zaleucus, Numa, &c., alone. No individuals can be found amongst Teutonic peoples who possess the distinction of being the law-givers of their people. Nowadays there can be law-givers no longer; legal institutions and regulations are in modern times always ready to hand, and the little that can still be done by means of the law-giver and by law-making assemblies is simply the further modification of details or making very insignificant additions. What is dealt with is the compilation, wording and perfecting of the particular only; and yet neither Solon and Lycurgus did more than respectively bring the Ionic mind and the Doric character—being that which had been given them and which was implicitly present—into the form of consciousness, and obviate the temporary inconvenience of disorder through effective laws. Solon was thus not a perfect statesman; this is manifest from the sequel of his history. A constitution which allowed Pisistratus in Solon’s own time to raise himself into the Tyranny, showing itself to be so destitute of strength and organization that it could not prevent its own overthrow, (and by what a power!) manifests some inward want. This may seem strange, for a constitution must be able to afford resistance to such an attack. But let us see what Pisistratus did.
What the so-called tyrants really were, is most clearly shown by the relation borne by Solon to Pisistratus. When orderly institutions and laws were necessary to the Greeks, we find law-givers and regents of states appearing, who laid down laws, and ruled accordingly. The law, as universal, seemed and still seems now to the individual to be force, inasmuch as he does not have regard to or comprehend the law: it applies first to all the people, and then only, to the individual; it is essential first of all to use constraint until the individual attains discernment, and law to him becomes his law, and ceases to be something foreign. Most of the law-givers and administrators of states undertook themselves to constrain the people and to be their tyrants. In states where they did not undertake it, it had to be done by other individuals, for it was essential. According to Diogenes Laertius’ account (I. 48-50), we find Solon—whom his friends advised to secure the mastery for himself since the people held to him (προσεῖχον), and would have liked to see him become tyrant—repulse them, and try to prevent any such occurrence, when he became suspicious of Pisistratus’ intentions. What he did when he remarked upon the attitude of Pisistratus, was to come into the assembly of the people, and tell them the design of Pisistratus, accoutred in armour and shield; this was then unusual, for Thucydides (1, 6) makes it a distinguishing feature between Greeks and Barbarians, that the former, and pre-eminently the Athenians, put aside their arms in time of peace. He said, “Men of Athens, I am wiser than some and braver than others: I am wiser than those who do not see the deceit of Pisistratus, braver than those who certainly see it, but say nothing from fear.” As he could not do anything, he left Athens. Pisistratus is said to have then written a most honourable letter to Solon in his absence, which Diogenes (I. 53, 54) has preserved for us, inviting him to return to Athens, and live with him as a free citizen. “Not only am I not the only one of the Greeks to have seized the tyranny, but I have not taken anything which was not my due, for I am of the race of Codrus. I have only taken back to myself what the Athenians swore they would preserve to Codrus and his race, and yet took from them. Moreover I am doing no evil toward gods and men, but as thou hast given laws to the Athenians, I take care (ἐπιτροπῶ) that in civil life they shall carry them out (πολιτεύειν.) His son Hippias did the same. And these relations are carried out better than they would be in a democracy, for I allow nobody to do evil (ὑβρίζειν), and as Tyrant, I lay claim to no more (πλεῖόν τι φέρομαι) than such consideration and respect and specified gifts (τὰ ῥητὰ γέρα) as would have been offered to the kings in earlier times. Every Athenian gives the tenth part of his revenue, not to me, but towards the cost of the public offering, and besides for the commonwealth, and for use in case of war. I am not angry that thou hast disclosed my project. For thou didst it more out of love to the people than hate against me, and because thou didst not know how I would conduct my rule. For if thou hadst known this, thou wouldst have submitted to it willingly, and wouldst not have taken flight;” and so he goes on. Solon, in the answer given by Diogenes, (I. 66, 67) says, that he “has not a personal grudge against Pisistratus, and he must call him the best of tyrants; but to turn back does not befit him. For he made equality of rights essential in the Athenian constitution, and himself refused the tyranny. By his return he would condone what was done by Pisistratus.” The rule of Pisistratus accustomed the Athenians to the laws of Solon, and brought them into usage, so that after this usage came to be general, supremacy was superfluous; his sons were hence driven out of Athens, and for the first time the constitution of Solon upheld itself. Solon undoubtedly gave the laws, but it is another thing to make such regulations effectual in the manners, habits and life of a people. What was separate in Solon and Pisistratus, we find united in Periander in Corinth, and Pittacus in Mitilene.