Lectures · Lecture 9

9.1

When a certain exile was lamenting his exile, this, more or less, is how he consoled him. Exile, he said, how could anyone but a fool find it burdensome? It in no way cuts us off from water, earth, and air, nor indeed from the sun and the other stars, nor even from association with human beings, for everywhere and in every place we have a share of these things. And if we are deprived of some portion of the earth and of the company of certain people, what is dreadful about that? For even when we were at home we did not make use of the whole earth, nor were we in the company of all people. Yet even now we could still be with our friends—the true ones, at least, those of whom it is fitting to take some account—for these would never betray us nor abandon us. But if there are some who are counterfeit and not true friends, it is better to be rid of them than to be with them. And besides, is not the universe the common fatherland of all human beings, as Socrates held? So that, in truth, one must not regard oneself as exiled from one's fatherland if one departs from the place where one was born and raised, but only as deprived of a particular city—especially if one claims to be a reasonable person. For such a man neither honors nor dishonors any place as though it were the cause of happiness or misery; rather, he places the whole matter in himself, and considers himself a citizen of the city of Zeus, which is composed of human beings and gods. In agreement with these things Euripides too speaks, when he says: "All the air is a path for the eagle, and all the earth is fatherland to a noble man." Just as, then, someone who, while in his own fatherland but living in a house other than the one in which he was born, should suffer grievously on that account and lament, would be foolish and ridiculous, so too whoever, living in another city than the one in which he happened to be born, considers this a misfortune, such a man would reasonably be thought senseless and foolish. And indeed, with respect to care for oneself and to the acquisition of virtue, how could exile stand in the way? Since a person is barred by exile neither from learning what he ought nor from training in what he ought. How could exile fail even to assist toward such an end, providing as it does leisure and the opportunity to learn what is noble and to practice it more than before, seeing that we are neither dragged about by our supposed fatherland into political services nor troubled by supposed friends or kinsmen, who are apt to hinder us and drag us away from our impulse toward the better things? Indeed, for some, exile has proved entirely advantageous, as it did for Diogenes, who from a private citizen became a philosopher through exile; and instead of sitting idle in Sinope, he spent his time in Greece, and in the training that leads to virtue he surpassed the philosophers.

9.2

For others, whose bodies were in poor condition through softness and luxury, exile has given strength, since they were compelled to live in a more manly fashion; and we know of some who were freed from chronic diseases in exile, as, for instance, that Spartan of Lacedaemon, who for a long time had a diseased side and on account of it was often ill because of his luxurious living, but once he ceased living luxuriously he ceased also to be sick. And others among those who lived softly, they say, were freed from gout, though before they had been severely afflicted by that ailment; and exile, by accustoming them to live more austerely, prepared them by that very means to become healthy. Thus, then, with respect to bringing them into a better condition of both body and soul, exile works with people rather than against them. But it is by no means the case that those in exile must lack the necessities of life. For those who are idle and helpless and incapable of acting like men, these for the most part lack resources and are helpless even when they are in their own fatherland; but those who are noble and industrious and intelligent, wherever they happen to go, find abundant resources and pass their lives without want. For indeed we do not even need much, unless we wish to live in luxury; since "What do mortals need but two things only, the grain of Demeter and a drink of water, which are at hand and are naturally suited to nourish us?" And I say that men worthy of consideration would easily obtain not only the most necessary things for life when they are away from their own land, but often would also acquire much wealth. Odysseus, at any rate, though he was in a condition more wretched, one might say, than any exile—being alone and naked and shipwrecked—nevertheless, when he came to men who were strangers to him, the Phaeacians, was able to obtain wealth in abundance. And Themistocles, when he was in exile from his home, coming not merely among those who were not his friends, but even among enemies and barbarians, the Persians, received three cities as a gift, Myus and Magnesia and Lampsacus, so as to live off them. And Dion of Syracuse, though he had been deprived of his entire property by Dionysius the tyrant when he was driven out of his fatherland, so abounded in wealth during his exile that he even maintained a foreign army, with which he came against Sicily and freed it from the tyrant.

9.3

Who, then, being of sound mind, looking to these examples, would still suppose that exile is a cause of poverty for all who are exiled? But neither is it at all necessary that those in exile fall into disrepute on account of their exile, since it is known to everyone that many suits are decided badly, and many are driven from their fatherland unjustly, and that already certain men who were good have been driven out by their fellow citizens—as Aristides the Just was from Athens, and Hermodorus from Ephesus, for whose exile Heraclitus even bade the Ephesians hang themselves, every man of them who had come of age. And indeed some who were most illustrious came to be so as exiles, such as Diogenes of Sinope and Clearchus the Lacedaemonian, who campaigned with Cyrus against Artaxerxes; and one could, if one wished, name many others as well. And yet how could that be a cause of disrepute in which some have become more highly regarded than they were before? But, one might say, Euripides declares that exiles are deprived of freedom, since they are also deprived of freedom of speech. For he represents Jocasta asking her son Polynices what is hard about being an exile; and he answers that there is one thing greatest of all: he does not have freedom of speech; and she in turn says to him, "This that you describe is a slave's lot, not to say what one thinks." But I would say to Euripides: Euripides, in this you judge rightly, that it belongs to a slave not to say what he thinks, at least when it is necessary to say it—for we should not always and everywhere and to anyone at all say what we think. But this other thing you do not seem to me to have said well, that freedom of speech does not belong to those in exile—if by freedom of speech you mean not keeping silent about what one happens to think. For it is not those in exile who shrink from saying what they think, but those who fear that from speaking there may come to them hardship or death or punishment or something else of the sort. And this fear, by Zeus, is not produced by exile. For it belongs to many even of those who are in their own fatherland—indeed to most of them—to fear what seem to be dreadful things. But the courageous man, being an exile no less than at home, has confidence in the face of all such things, and therefore he says what he thinks with confidence no less when he happens to be an exile than when he is not an exile. This is what one might say to Euripides. But you, tell me, my friend: when Diogenes was an exile at Athens, or when, having been sold by pirates, he came to Corinth, did anyone at that time display more freedom of speech than Diogenes, whether Athenian or Corinthian? And what of this—was anyone else among the men of that time more free than Diogenes?

9.4

He, indeed—when Xeniades had bought him—ruled over the man who had purchased him as a master rules over a slave. But why should one speak of old examples? Do I not seem to you to be an exile? Have I then been deprived of freedom of speech? Have I been robbed of the liberty to say what I think? Have you ever seen me, or has anyone else, cowering before someone because I am in exile? Or thinking my affairs to be in a worse state now than before? On the contrary, by Zeus, you could not say that you had seen me grieved or downhearted on account of my exile. For even if a man has been deprived of his fatherland, he has not been deprived of the ability to bear exile. The reasonings which I employ toward myself, so as not to be burdened by exile, these I would also state to you. It seems to me that exile does not by any means deprive a person even of those goods which most people consider goods, as I was just now showing. But even if it should deprive him of some or all of these, at any rate it does not deprive him of the goods that are truly good. For the exile is not prevented, by the fact that he is in exile, from possessing courage or justice, nor self-control or practical wisdom, nor again any other virtue whatever—the very things which, when present, naturally adorn and benefit a person and render him praiseworthy and of good repute, and which, when absent, harm and disgrace him, rendering him bad and of ill repute. This being so, if you are a good man and possess the virtues, exile would not harm you nor bring you low, since there are present in you the things most able to benefit and elevate you. But if you happen to be bad, it is your badness that harms you, and not exile; and it is your badness that brings grief upon you, not exile. Therefore you ought to hasten to be freed from this rather than from exile. This I have always said to myself, and I say it to you now. And you, if you are of sound mind, will not consider exile to be dreadful—which others bear easily—but rather badness, for by its presence everyone who has it is wretched. For indeed one of two things must be the case: either you are exiled unjustly or justly. If justly, then how could it ever be right or fitting to be burdened by what is just? But if unjustly, this would be an evil belonging to those who drove you out, not to us—if indeed, by Zeus, to do wrong is a thing most hated by the gods, which is what has befallen them; whereas to be wronged, which is what has befallen us, is held, both among the gods and among decent human beings, to be worthy of assistance, and not of hatred.