The Moral Instruction of Children - Felix Adler (new ebook reader .txt) 📗

She lies outstretched upon the floor of her chamber overcome with grief (iv, 910). Telemachus, however, has gone forth in search of his sire. He finds a friend in Pisistratus, the son of Nestor, and the two youths join company on the journey. They come to the court of Menelaus, King of Sparta. There, as everywhere, Telemachus hears men speak of his great father in terms of the highest admiration and praise, and the desire mounts in his soul to do deeds worthy of such a parent. What better stimulation can we offer to growing children than this recital of Telemachus's development from boyhood into manhood? His reception at the court of Menelaus affords an opportunity to dwell again upon the generous and delicate hospitality of the ancient Greeks. First, the guest is received at the gates; then conducted to the bath and anointed; then, when he is seated on a silver or perchance a golden throne, a handmaiden advances with a silver ewer and a golden jug to pour water on his hands; then a noble banquet is set out for his delectation; and only then, after all these rites of hospitality have been completed, is inquiry made as to his name and his errand. "The stranger and the poor are sent from Jove." The stranger and the poor were welcome in the Grecian house. Telemachus returns to Ithaca, escapes the ambush which the murderous suitors had set for him, and arrives just in time to help his father in his last desperate struggle. It is he, Telemachus, who conveys the weapons from the hall, he who pinions the treacherous Melantheus and renders him harmless. He quits himself like a man—discreet, able to keep his counsel, and brave and quick in the moment of decisive action.

The third element which attracts our attention is the resourceful intelligence of Ulysses, or his presence of mind amid danger. This is exhibited on many occasions; for instance, in the cave of Polyphemus; where he saves his companions by concealing them in the fleece of the giant's flock, and at the time of the great shipwreck, before he reaches Phæacia. His raft is shattered, and he is plunged into the sea. He clings to one of the fragments of the wreck, but from this too is dislodged. For two days and nights he struggles in the black, stormy waters. At last he approaches the shore, but is nearly dashed to pieces on the rocks. He swims again out to sea, until, finding himself opposite the mouth of a river, he strikes out for this and lands in safety. Pallas Athene has guided him. But Pallas Athene is only another name for his own courage and presence of mind. In the same connection may be related the story of Ulysses's escape from the Sirens and from the twin perils of Scylla and Charybdis. The Sirens, with their bewitching songs, seek to lure him and his companions to destruction. But he stops the ears of his companions with wax so that they can not hear, and causes himself to be bound with stout cords to the mast, so that, though he may hear, he can not follow. There is an obvious lesson contained in this allegory. When about to be exposed to temptation, if you know that you are weak, do not even listen to the seductive voices. But no matter how strong you believe yourself to be, at least give such pledges and place yourself in such conditions that you may be prevented from yielding. From the monster Charybdis, too, Ulysses escapes by extraordinary presence of mind and courage. He leaps upward to catch the fig-tree in the moment when his ship disappears beneath him in the whirlpool; then, when it is cast up again, lets go his hold and is swept out into safe waters.

The fourth ethical element which we select from the poem is the veneration shown to grandparents. I have already remarked, in a former lecture, that if parents wish to retain the reverence of their children they can not do better than in their turn to show themselves reverent toward their own aged and enfeebled parents. Of such conduct the Odyssey offers us a number of choice examples. Thus Achilles, meeting Ulysses in the realm of shades, says that the hardest part of his lot is to think of his poor old father, who has no one now to defend him, and who, being weak, is likely to be neglected and despised. If only he, the strong son, could return to the light of day, how he would protect his aged parent and insure him the respect due to his gray hairs! Penelope is advised to send to Laertes, Telemachus's grandfather, to secure his aid against the suitors. But with delicate consideration she keeps the bad news from him, saying: "He has enough grief to bear on account of the loss of his son Ulysses; let me not add to his burden." Again, how beautiful is the account of the meeting of Laertes and Ulysses after the return and triumph of the latter. On the farm, at some distance from the town, Ulysses seeks his aged father. Laertes is busy digging. He, a king, wears a peasant's rustic garb and lives a life of austere self-denial, grieving night and day for his absent son. When Ulysses mentions his name, Laertes at first does not believe. Then the hero approaches the bent and decrepit old man, and becomes for the moment a child again. He brings up recollections of his earliest boyhood; he reminds his father of the garden-patch which he set aside for him long, long ago; of the trees and vines which he gave him to plant; and then the father realizes that the mighty man before him is indeed his son.

The structural lines of the Odyssey are clearly marked, and can easily be followed. First, we are shown the house of Ulysses bereft of its master. The noisy crowd of suitors are carousing in the hall; the despairing Penelope weaves her web in an upper chamber; the resolve to do and dare for his father's sake awakens in Telemachus's heart. Next Ulysses on the way home, dismissed by Calypso, arrives at Phæacia, from which port without further misadventures he reaches Ithaca. The stay in the palace of the Phæacian king gives an opportunity for a rehearsal of the previous sufferings and adventures of the hero. Then follow the preparations for the conflict with the suitors; the appearance of Ulysses in his own palace in the guise of a beggar; the insults and blows which he receives at the hands of his rivals and their menials; the bloody fight, etc. In relating the story I should follow the course of the poem, laying stress upon the ethical elements enumerated above. The fight which took place in the palace halls with closed doors should be merely mentioned, its bloody details omitted. The hanging of the maidens, the trick of Vulcan related in a previous book, and other minor episodes, which the teacher will distinguish without difficulty, should likewise be passed over. The recognition scenes are managed with wonderful skill. The successive recognitions seem to take place inversely in the order of previous connection and intimacy with Ulysses. The son, who was a mere babe when his father left and did not know him at all, recognizes him first. This, moreover, is necessary in order that his aid may be secured for the coming struggle. Next comes Argus, the dog.