No name

Chapter One
The Ring of Power
THE BARN SMELLED of stale hay, chicken droppings, and cabbage. Lorelei, the white hen, cackled. With a swift glance over her shoulder, Janna took the broom and chased the bird off her nest. Sure enough, there was an egg. Janna slid it into her apron pocket. The barn door creaked as Frau Kopp came in, towering over Janna, a mountain of authority.
"Kill me a couple of chickens, Janna, quick," she said. "I’ve unexpected company." Janna looked around in dismay. What she saw were not chickens but Lorelei and Ilsebill, the leghorns; Wilhelm, the rooster; Fritz and Franz, the cockerels; Lieschen, Gretchen, and all the other cackling, scratching friends she knew by name. How could you kill something that had a name? But what could you do against a grownup? Janna began to sweep vigorously.
"Johanna," repeated Frau Kopp, "did you hear me?"
Janna looked up, shaking the hair out of her eyes. "I can’t," she said, trembling at her own audacity.
"You can," Frau Kopp insisted. "I showed you. You wring their necks, like that . . . it’s easy. What a fool they have sent me—and the other one so good, so willing! Why did she have to leave?"
"I’m on duty," said Janna desperately. "We have a Youth meeting."
"But it isn’t Wednesday," protested Frau Kopp. "I know
"I know, I know," Frau Kopp interrupted, "you’ve told me before. Isn’t it early for you to go? Your meetings are always later."
"Not this one," said Janna.
Frau Kopp looked at her suspiciously, opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. It was not wise to tangle with the Youth groups; she’d heard stories. . . . on Wednesdays you have your Heim Abend and have to leave early. But today is Tuesday and you can help in the kitchen, can’t you?"
"It’s a special meeting," said Janna, noticing the frustrated expression on Frau Kopp’s face. No one was allowed to interfere with the Hitler Youth meetings: not the church, or the school, parents or employers.
"A special meeting, a special meeting," grumbled Frau Kopp. "You are always having these special meetings and I think it’s just to escape work. What’s this meeting for, then?"
Janna’s face lit up. "It’s a rehearsal," she said. "We’re going to do a play our group leader has written. And imagine . . . they’ve chosen me to be Brunhilde!"
"And who is Brunhilde?" asked Frau Kopp sourly.
"Don’t you know? She is Siegfried’s bride. He gives her the magic ring, which was stolen from the Rhine maidens. But there is a curse on it. Siegfried drinks an evil potion, forgets Brunhilde, and marries someone else. Brunhilde is furious and causes him to die, but she is sorry afterward, and when she lights his funeral pyre she jumps on it herself, and as they burn all the gods burn with them."
Frau Kopp had listened open-mouthed. "Where do you get all that heathenish nonsense?"
"Oh, it isn’t nonsense," said Janna. "It’s all in Wagner’s operas."
"It’s heathenish anyway," sputtered Frau Kopp. "And for that they keep you from honest work!"
"Learning a part is work too. My parents have to do it all the time. They’re famous actors, their pictures are often in the papers, and Hitler has praised them. It’s in an article . . . I’ll show it to you. . . . He says they are an outstanding example of true Aryan culture."
Adjusting her black shawl, she shrugged her shoulders. "All right, go if you must and leave me with all the work." She bent and made a grab at the unsuspecting Lieschen. Janna lifted her coat from a nail and fled.
It was the last half of February. The thick blanket of snow was raveled and torn, showing patches of earth and yellow vegetation. Streams rushed singing down the hills, sweeping mud and pebbles along. The mountains, wrapped in fog, loomed like ghosts. Janna’s boots picked up the sticky snow as she clumped along. A stiff wind tore at her hair and slapped her cheeks. She passed Frau Kopp’s farmhouse with its steep, overhanging roof, half himself on his chain trying to get to her. She patted his straw, half shingle. Bruno, the mongrel dog, almost choked shaggy head, climbed a fence, and stood on the road, where puddles gleamed between ridges of mud. In the distance the church steeple lifted a warning finger at a flock of crows that seemed to be weaving swastikas against the sky.
Janna took a deep breath. She had managed to evade the cruel task Frau Kopp had laid on her because she was a Hitler Youth. Frau Kopp was afraid of Hitler. All grownups were.
"Oh, it isn’t nonsense," said Janna. "It’s all in Wagner’s operas."
"It’s heathenish anyway," sputtered Frau Kopp. "And for that they keep you from honest work!"
"Learning a part is work too. My parents have to do it all the time. They’re famous actors, their pictures are often in the papers, and Hitler has praised them. It’s in an article . . . I’ll show it to you. . . . He says they are an outstanding example of true Aryan culture."
Adjusting her black shawl, she shrugged her shoulders. "All right, go if you must and leave me with all the work." She bent and made a grab at the unsuspecting Lieschen. Janna lifted her coat from a nail and fled.
It was the last half of February. The thick blanket of snow was raveled and torn, showing patches of earth and yellow vegetation. Streams rushed singing down the hills, sweeping mud and pebbles along. The mountains, wrapped in fog, loomed like ghosts. Janna’s boots picked up the sticky snow as she clumped along. A stiff wind tore at her hair and slapped her cheeks. She passed Frau Kopp’s farmhouse with its steep, overhanging roof, half himself on his chain trying to get to her. She patted his straw, half shingle. Bruno, the mongrel dog, almost choked shaggy head, climbed a fence, and stood on the road, where puddles gleamed between ridges of mud. In the distance the church steeple lifted a warning finger at a flock of crows that seemed to be weaving swastikas against the sky.
Janna took a deep breath. She had managed to evade the cruel task Frau Kopp had laid on her because she was a Hitler Youth. Frau Kopp was afraid of Hitler. All grownups were. hero who had fearlessly slain a dragon yet trembled at the sight of Brunhilde’s beauty. And that was another problem: Janna knew she was no beauty. Well, maybe they could do things with stage lights.
What would it be like to have a magic ring that gave you power over everybody? thought Janna. And why hadn’t Brunhilde used it to save Siegfried and conquer her enemies? Why had she given it back to the Rhine maidens? They had hidden the ring and now no one could get it, though some people said it had been given to Hitler and that that was why he had conquered all those countries.
A girl hailed Janna from a neighboring farm. She came running across the fields, darting around rocks and shrubs, her long braids dancing on her back. It was Greta, a classmate.
"Wait for me, Janna!"
"You got away early too," said Janna.
"I said we had a Youth meeting."
"So did I!" The girls burst into laughter.
"They’ll think it’s funny when we have our rehearsal on Friday. They’ll say we have too many special meetings!"
"They can’t do anything," said Greta. "We’re allowed as many meetings as we like."
"As long as our group leader doesn’t tell on us."
"She won’t. Hildegarde is nice. The other group leader we had, Hannelore, was awful, really strict. She used to make us march with heavy packs and take cold baths in freezing weather because she said we should be as tough as the boys. We were going to be the mothers of future German soldiers and she wasn’t having any weaklings."
"Did you bag anything today?" asked Janna.
"Not much. I think Frau Hahn is noticing. But if she says anything, I’ll tell on her. I’ll tell she slaughtered a pig illegally."
"Did she?" asked Janna.
"Of course. They’re always doing it, those farmers. They don’t care if our soldiers starve. I got some onions anyway. They’re good in soup."
"I got an egg," said Janna.
"An egg? But they count those!" exclaimed Greta.
"I got it before it was counted." They walked for a moment in silence, listening to a robin chirping on a bare branch.
The old mailman, his brown leather bag over his shoulder, was bicycling past. He was bent over the handlebars against the wind, treading down the pedals heavily with his big boots. Slush sprayed up and the girls jumped back.
"Gr�ss Gott!" said the mailman, nodding at them.
"Heil Hitler!" answered the girls, arms outstretched. Janna thoughtfully picked her way among the puddles.
"Did you ever see Hitler?" she asked.
"Yes, once," said Greta, "at that Youth rally we went to."
"There were too many people, I couldn’t see a thing."
"I climbed a tree," said Greta, enjoying Janna’s look of admiration. "But I didn’t see much," she confessed. "Only the back of his head and his raised arm. And do you know, he didn’t raise it high enough, not even as high as his shoulder!" Hildegarde made the girls raise their arms well above their heads, and no matter how long the occasion lasted, you were never allowed to rest your arm on the girl in front.
But of course Hitler didn’t have to raise his arm at all; the greeting was to him. Besides, laws were for other people, not for Hitler.
"Why did you want to go home early today?" Janna asked.
"Because of the test tomorrow," said Greta, looking worried. "They keep us working so late, I’m too tired to do my homework. I did badly all this term. Race science is our most important subject and I want to do as well as I can, but I can’t memorize all that stuff. Those terribly long words!"
"I know, like ‘brachycephalic,’ " said Janna. "That’s a kind of skull. There are round, square, and long ones, and it’s very important which kind you have. The Aryan ones are the best."
"Why?"
"It has something to do with room for your brains. Monkeys don’t have much. Aryans have the most. We’re Aryans, the only true race. We’re supposed to become supermen."
"What other races are there?"
"Oh, Slavs and Mongolians and Semites . . . that’s the Jews. When you don’t know the answer to a question, just say something bad about the Jews and they’ll give you a good mark. They’ll forget what they asked."
"Really?"
"Sure, I tried it. It sometimes works with Slavs too, they’re almost as bad as the Jews . . . that’s the Russians, you know. But the Jews are the worst. They made us lose the First World War. We were winning the war, the soldiers were winning it—and Hitler was a soldier then so he knows—but the Jews in Berlin made us sign the Treaty of Versailles and that made us lose the war. We lost a lot of territory so we hadn’t enough Lebensraum and we had to pay so much money to our enemies that we became poor. We even used our paper money in the toilets!"
"Why?" asked Greta.
"Because it was worth less than toilet paper. No one had work and people fell dead in the streets with hunger, but the democratic government did nothing. When Hitler came, he got back our lost territories and everyone had work. We had an army again and enough food. That’s why we have to thank Hitler before and after meals."
"But what has that got to do with race?"
"Don’t you see, Greta? It’s race that makes the Jews so bad. They’ve got the wrong blood. We were pure Aryans before the Jews came and we must become pure Aryans again. That’s why our boys have written on their daggers: ‘Blood and honor.’ It’s shameful to let your race deteriorate by mixing it with inferior races. In the ancient days of Atlantis the Aryans had magic powers. The swastika is a magic Aryan sign, you know. But the Jews have weakened us and we’ve lost those powers. Hitler wants to give them back to us, but he can do it only if we stamp out the evil influence of the Jews."
"Did you ever see a Jew?" asked Greta.
"No, only in pictures."
"A Jew used to visit our village before you came," said Greta. "Every Friday he stood in the marketplace, selling a pig. He had a big yellow star on his coat. But there was always something wrong with the pig. We were glad when he didn’t come any more."
"I think they’re like the Nibelungen dwarfs in our play . . . sly and dangerous," said Janna. "It’s the Jews in England and America that are Wghting us. All the Aryan people would like to belong to us. And the Jews gave us Christianity, which is making us weak. Christians have to love their enemies, do good to those who hate them, and give more to those who steal from them. If you believe that, how can you be a strong nation and conquer the world? Hitler says it’s impossible to be a good German and a Christian at the same time."
"Do you believe that?" asked Greta.
"Hitler says so," said Janna.
"And why are the Slavs bad?"
"They’re Communists; the Jews gave them Communism. They say that everyone is equal, and that’s a lie. There’s a master race, that’s us, and inferior races. The inferior races must serve the master race."
"You make it sound so simple, Janna. I wonder how you do it . . . all those long chapters in Mein Kampf . . ."
"I suppose it’s because of my parents," said Janna. "They’re famous, you know. Hitler said . . ."
"Yes, you told me," Greta broke in. The only thing she disliked about Janna was the way she boasted about her parents. "Here’s my road. See you tomorrow."
Greta lived in a hut in the mountains, while Janna’s home was in the village with her nurse Erna and Erna’s mother. The celebrated Mechtild and Otto Oster, Janna’s parents, had been traveling about for over two years, entertaining troops in foreign countries. They kept writing Janna that they would get a house soon and send for her, but so far it hadn’t happened. Janna consoled herself by writing them long letters and talking about them to anyone who would listen. They were always present to her, an admiring audience for all she did.
Erna took great interest in Janna’s Youth meetings, but the old mother, who mumbled away her last days in a rocking chair beside the huge blue porcelain stove, a rosary in perpetual motion between her fingers, disapproved of the Youth movement. She said it was wicked to hold meetings on Sunday mornings so that Janna could not go to church. She warned Janna not to listen to the pagan things she was being taught. She would go on to mutter threats against a mysterious being called Antichrist and predict all manner of evil for Germany, till Erna made her be quiet.
"Don’t mind her," Erna would say contemptuously. "The old one is crazy."
Janna loved her Youth group. It was the only pleasant thing in her life. All the rest was grim. School from eight to twelve, much of the time taken up preparing bandages or doing other work for the soldiers, as well as writing letters to them. Then midday dinner, which consisted of potatoes with a flavor of meat. Then farm work in the afternoons. When there was no Youth meeting, Janna often had to work late, so that her homework suffered. The farmers forgot how young their helpers were and they piled on the work. If it had not been for the Hitler Youth, Janna didn’t think she could have stood it.
The Youth meetings were delightful—except for readings from Mein Kampf or lectures on early Germanic tribes, which were dull. But the girls also learned handicrafts, practiced on musical instruments, played games, acted in plays, held songfests, and went on hikes. In the summer there were camping trips and excursions to Youth rallies. Those were the high points. When Janna was on a camping trip with her group, she felt confident, strong, and alive. The fresh air, the lovely woods and mountains, the comradeship of the other girls: it was glorious. They all felt they mattered, their country needed them—and what a beautiful, beautiful country it was!
In the evenings, tired out, they would gather around a leaping bonfire. Then Hildegarde would tell stories: old tales grown from the soil they sat on. They heard of the great Norse gods and their fiery matings, of curses and spells, of heroes with magic powers and of their malicious foes . . . till their eyelids pricked and the fire dwindled to a few glimmering worms. Then the night wind would blow them into their tents to dream of blond gods.
Janna loved it all. She sang enthusiastically with the rest:
"Today we own Germany,
Tomorrow the world."
She was nearing the village and looked forward to Erna’s face when she saw the egg. Erna would tell her to thank Frau Kopp. Janna grinned. Frau Kopp would as soon part with her false teeth as with her eggs!
She had passed the first pastel-colored village houses with their wooden latticework, smoke curling from their chimneys. Usually Hans, the shoemaker, sat in front of his window, nodding at her, but today the window was empty. A bit farther on lived the clockmaker. His shop was full of interesting, carved wooden clocks, ticking and wheezing away, but Janna did not linger to look. She saw an ambulance standing before the little hotel. Frau Bauer, the hotelkeeper’s wife, was opening the door for two men, who were carrying out Frau Bauer’s old aunt on a stretcher. She was covered with a blanket and her face looked pale and anxious as she clutched the blanket with emaciated fingers.
"Now remember, Aunt Hedwig, it’s for your own good. They are going to make you better," said Frau Bauer.
"I know . . ." quavered Aunt Hedwig. "They have this new treatment . . . but . . ."
"You don’t want to go on having those pains," said Frau Bauer.
"But it’s so far . . ." complained Aunt Hedwig. "You won’t be able to visit me!"
"I wouldn’t be able to anyway. The hotel . . ."
"I know, I know . . ." Aunt Hedwig’s voice trailed off.
A group of villagers had gathered around the ambulance. The men carrying the stretcher had no expression on their faces. They did not talk to Aunt Hedwig or to Frau Bauer. They waited till the goodbyes were over; then they pushed the stretcher into the ambulance and slammed the doors shut. They climbed into the front seat. A stink came from the exhaust pipe as the ambulance sputtered into action, its wheels spraying slush, and growled off. The villagers watched it getting smaller and smaller till it disappeared down the hill. Frau Bauer sobbed and hurried into the hotel, her handkerchief pressed against her face.
"If she had to have new treatment, why not send her to the hospital in Freiburg? Why to Hademan? It’s so far away," said a woman.
"I think that’s decided by the government," another voice remarked.
"Hademan is for the aged and for incurables and feebleminded," said Hans, the shoemaker. "It’s a special place."
"That’s true," the postmistress chipped in. "My sister’s boy wasn’t right in the head and they took him there, but he died soon after. They said it was pneumonia."
"Grandpa went there with a sore foot, and he died of pneumonia too," said a messenger boy. "It must be drafty in that place."
"He was old; perhaps the change was too much for him."
"Maybe," said the postmistress grimly. "But has any of you ever heard of anyone who came back from Hademan alive?" There was a silence. Somewhere a radio blared:
"Adolf Hitler’s favorite flower
Is the simple edelweiss."
Janna shivered. Was something wrong? Was something dreadful going to happen to Aunt Hedwig? Gentle Aunt Hedwig, always lying on her long chair in front of the window and welcoming children with a box of homemade candy. She had been like a grandmother to Janna, telling her stories of long ago, when women wore long skirts and men had whiskers. Together they had pored over albums with stiff pages full of dried ferns and faded brown snapshots. If Aunt Hedwig had been in pain she had never shown it.
The tall youth standing beside Janna saw her distress. He belonged to the Jung Volk the older boys’ group. His name was Kurt Engel.
"Don’t listen to those gossips," he said, putting his hand on Janna’s shoulder as he walked beside her. That was a great honor.
"Do you think she’ll be all right?" asked Janna timidly, gazing up at him. Kurt looked away into the distance. The main street was sloping down steeply now, and they could see the misted valley with row upon row of snowcapped mountains melting into a haze of purple.
"Does it matter?" he asked. "Aunt Hedwig is a useless old woman of no further value to our nation. Why worry about her? Don’t you realize what is happening to our young people, our soldiers in Russia? Have you seen the list of the dead? Why don’t you worry about them?" He was gazing at the sky where the last rays of the sun slanted down like spears from a gap in the clouds.
"We’re in a crisis," he said. "Only four times in history was there a similar crisis in Europe: when the Greeks warded off the Persians, when Charles Martel defended France against Islam, when Vienna held out against the Turks, and when the Teutonic knights stopped the hordes of Genghis Khan at Liegnitz. Now, once again Europe is threatened by barbarians from the East and we Germans are called to save it." Kurt’s closely cropped head, lifted against the sky, looked stern and noble, thought Janna.
"There is a prophecy," Kurt went on, "that after the gods were killed, the horn of Heimdall, the guardian of the border line between gods and men, would sound one day to awaken the Germanic race. I think it has happened: Hitler is that horn. He has special powers and is sent to lead us to a great victory, which will be spoken of for centuries to come. We must trust him and follow him, even unto death."
"Oh, I hope not death," cried Janna.
Kurt looked down at her as if he had just discovered her. His smile lit up his face. "You’re all right, Janna," he said. "Don’t worry. Hitler is invincible, a man of destiny. With him we can do anything. See you Friday. I suppose you know I’m playing Siegfried . . ." Nodding affably at her, he strode off, tall and handsome in his leather jacket. Janna stared after him. So he was to be Siegfried! What a stunning Siegfried he would make! She began to think about her costume: a flowing white dress with silver breastplates, a girdle studded with jewels, and a helmet on her head. She also needed silver sandals and a spear. She wondered where she’d get all that, but Hildegarde would help, she always did. Janna was almost home before she remembered the egg.
"See what I’ve got for you, Erna!" she cried, bursting into the kitchen. Erna looked around. She was holding a letter.
"Janna!" she exclaimed, scarcely noticing the egg. "I’m so glad you are early! We just got this special-delivery letter. Your father and mother have found a house in Amsterdam. They want you to join them as soon as possible. You’ll be traveling with a Frau Mueller, an officer’s wife who is visiting her husband. So much to do, I don’t know where to start! But . . . what’s the matter? Don’t you want to go to your parents?"

r,..,..,.. ~ '.. CONTENTS SECTION I GENERAL MORAL PAGE INTRODUCTION I I. God's Will the End of Life I 2. God's Will the Basis of Morality 2 3. Catholic Moral Science 3 CHAPTER I. Conditions of Morality A. FREE WILL I. Nature of Free Will 5 2. Free Will in the Light of Faith and Reason. 6 l 3. Hindrances to Free Will 8 I B. LAW ! I. The Natural Law 10 i 2. The Positive Divine Law 12 3. Human Positive Laws 15 C. CONSCIENCE 17 D. COLLISION OF RIGHTS AND DuTIEs... 21 CHAPTER II. Moral Good I. Elements of a Moral Act 25 2. Virtue, or Moral Good as a Habit 27 3- The Moral Virtues 28 4. Christian Perfection : 30 5. The Evangelical Counsels 32 6. The Religious State 35 CHAPTER III. Moral Evil I. The Nature of Sin 40 2. Kinds of Sin 42 3. Temptation and the Occasions of Sjn 44 4- Sin and Punishment 47 SECTION n SPECIAL MORAL INTRODUCTION 50 CHAPTER I. Our Duties to God A. THE THRI;;E THEOLOGICAL VIRTUES 53 ix l ~ ~ x CONTENTS PAGE I. Faith: a) Nature, Properties, and Duties of Faith. " 53 b) Sins Against Faith 55 c) Dangers to the Faith 58 2. Hope. 59 3. Chan.ty, or Love of God , 61 B. THE VIRTUE OF RELIGION , 63 I. Direct Acts of Religion: a) Prayer. , ...66 b) Liturgical Prayer and Sacrifice. The Lord's Day. 72 c) Oaths and Vows 75 d) Sins Against the Virtue of Religion. 77 e) Christian Science and Spiritism 79 2. Indirect Acts of Religion: or the Veneration of the Saints: a) Veneration of the Saints 82 b) Invocation of the Saints 84 c) Special Veneration of the Mother of God. 86 d) The Veneration of Images 88 e) The Veneration of Relics 89 CHAPTER II. Duties Towards Ourselves I. Duties in Regard to the Intellect and the Will. 98 2. The Dignity of the Human Body 99 A. Positive Duties Towards the Body: a) Food and Clothing 100 b) Recreation and Amusement 103 B. Negative Duties Towards the Body: a) Suicide. 104 b) Indirect Suicide and Risking One's Life 105 c) Cremation 106 3. Chastity and Its Violation 107 4. Duties Concerning Material Goods : a) The Right of Private Property 112 b) Capitalism and Socialism 115 CHAPTER III. Our Duties Towards Our Neighbor I. Nature and Properties of Christian Charity. 122 2. Well-Ordered Charity 123 3. Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy. 126 4. Love Your Enemies 129 5. Violations of Charity 131 6. Thou Shalt Not Kill 133 7. Thou Shalt Not Steal 136 8. The Duty of Truthfulness and Fidelity. 138 9 Our Neighbor's Reputation 140 CONTENTS xi PAGE CHAPTER IV. Our Duties as Members of the Family, the State, and the Church I. The Christian Family ; 147 2. Masters and Servants; Workmen and Employers 150 3. The Rights and Duties of Citizens 151 4. Sancta Mater Ecclesia 153 5. The Christian Ideal 155 INDEX " , , 161 ! I. -, .c SECTION I GENERAL MORAL --- Introdu~tion I. GoD'S WILL THE END OF LIFE What Is the Meaning and Purpose of Life?-This is the all- important question for every human being; for what will ~ll the world beside profit us if we miss the whole purpose of our existence, if we fail to attain our true destiny ? I. Both reason and revelation tell us that God is the author and the last end of our life. Being creatures of God, the work of His hands, we belong to him absolutely. "In Him we live and move and are" (Acts 17,28). The last end of man can be nothing else but God from whom he came, "for of Him, and by Him, and in Him are all things (Rom. 11,36). Hence the pur- pose of our life is to do the will of God, as it is written in indelible characters in every human heart, as it was proclaimed on Sinai and on the Mount of the Beatitudes, as it is manifested in the duties of our state and calling, and as it is made known to us by those who share in God's authority here on earth in the family, the State and the Church. But our submission to God's holy will must not be founded on servile fear; it must be a voluntary, loving and generous self- surrender to His will. Our service must be the service of a soldier who unhesitatingly carries out the commands of his general; but also the service of a child that sees in God his loving Father and his greatest benefactor . 2. This ideal of perfect harmony between the human will and the divine will is realized in the life of the God-M an J esus Christ. He came on earth, as He Himself tells us, simply to glorify His Father and to do His will. He speaks of His Father's will as His food and drink, as the atmosphere He breathes, as His unfailing consolation. His whole life from the Crib to the Cross was one act of obedience to His heavenly Father. In His life and death He fulfilled most perfectly what the Angels I -~- ~;:r~_'r"i SECTION I GENERAL MORAL Introduc;tion I. GoD.S WILL THE END OF LIFE What 18 the Meaning and Purpo8e of Life?-This is the all- important question for every human being; for what will all the world beside profit us if we miss the whole purpose 0'� our existence, if we fail to attain our true destiny ? I. Both reason and revelation tell us that God is the author and the last end of our life. Being creatures of God, the work of His hands, we belong to him absolutely. "In Him we live and move and are" (Acts 17,28). The last end of man can be nothing else but God �rom whom he came, "�or of Him, and by Him, and in Him are all things (Rom. 11,36). Hence the pur- pose of our life is to do the will of God, as it is written in indelible characters in every human heart, as it was proclaimed on Sinai and on the Mount of the Beatitudes, as it is manifested in the duties of our state and calling, and as it is made known to us by those who share in God's authority here on earth in the �amily, the State and the Church. But our submission to God's holy will must not be �ounded on servile �ear; it must be a voluntary, loving and generous sel�- surrender to His will. Our service must be the service of a soldier who unhesitatingly carries out the commands of his general; but also the service of a child that sees in God his loving Father and his greatest bene�actor . 2. This ideal of perfect harmony between the human will and the divine will is realized in the li�e of the God-M an J esus Christ. He came on earth, as He Himself tells us, simply to glori�y His Father and to do His will. He speaks of His Father's will as His food and drink, as the atmosphere He breathes, as His unfailing consolation. His whole life from the Crib to the Cross was one act of obedience to His heavenly Father. In His li�e and death He fulfilled most perfectly what the Angels I ~ ~i;~ - 2 GENERAL MORAL proclaimed in their Christmas message: "Glory to God in the highest." Hence He could say on the eve of His Passion: "I have glorified Thee on the earth, I have finished My work Thou gavest me to do; and now glorify Thou Me, O Father, with Thyself" (John 17,4). Christ is, therefore, the bright and shining example for all who seek to attain their life's purpose in its "height and breadth and depth", and thus to lay the foundation of their own perfect happiness; for true happiness can be found only in seeking God's honor and glory by doing His will. "God asks no service from us," says a wise and holy man, "which does not promote our highest welfare, and no glory in which we, His creatures, do not share. God seeks His glory in our happiness." Hence the simple words which we find on the first page of the little Catechism express the highest wisdom: "We are in this world to do the will of God and thereby to gain everlasting happiness in H eaven." 2. GOD'S WILL THE BASIS OF MORALITY I. To give glory to God by doing His holy will: this is the end, the purpose of human life. All our actions should be directed to this end. Every action that brings us nearer to this end is a i good action; every action, on the other hand, that leads us away [ from this end, is a bad action. Because "only one is good, God" , (Mark 10,18), all morality, all moral goodness is based on Him; only that is good which corresponds to His holy will. But God is also the Creator, the Lord of heaven and earth, and therefore He alone can impose His will on mankind, from Him alone comes all moral obligation. 2. That our actions are morally good or morally bad according as they agree or disagree with the divine will, is clearly taught in Scripture. "N ot everyone that saith to Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, but he that doth the will of My Father who is in Heaven, he shall enter into the Kingdom of Heaven" (Matt. 7,21 ) ."If thou wilt enter into life," Christ said to the rich young man, "keep the commandments" (Matt. 19,17). For the Son of God Himself the will of God is the rule of life and action. "Did you not know that I must be about My I. Father's business ?" he said to His Mother, who had gently up- i braided Him for remaining behind in the temple. -~~ INTRODUCTION 3 3. For the Apostles, too, the �ulfillment of the divine will is the only rule of action. "Be not con�ormed to this world," St. Paul tells the Romans, "but be ye trans�ormed by the renewing of your mind, so that ye may find out what is the will of. Go~, what is good, well-pleasing and per�ect" (Rom. 1;2,2) .It IS his earnest and unceasing prayer that his converts "may be filled with the knowledge of the will of God, that they may walk worthy of God in all things" (Col. I,9-1O). St. John calls those liars who say they know God, but do not keep Hi& commandments. "But he that keepeth His word, in him in very deed the love of God is perfected" (I John 2,5). THE CALL OF CHRIST "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me." (Matt. 16, 24) 3. CATHOLIC MORAL SCIENCE That part of the science of religion which teaches us how to direct our actions to God, our last end, is called Catholic Ethics or Catlwlic M oral Science. It is based on Christian principles and draws its conclusions �rom divine revelation. As a part of the Christian doctrine-the doctrine of the things we must do, doctrina faciendorwn-it is confided to the keeping of the Catholic Church. Hence the Catholic Church can, in virtue of the divine assistance granted to her, in�allibly define what is good and what is bad, what is permitted and what is �orbidden. k -~~ ;,~,,?:-:::c~~~~~ 4 GENERAL MORAL The general principles of morality are common to all men; but Christian moral differs essentially from purely natural moral : a) Christian moral directs man to a supernatural end, which can be at- tained only by supernatural means, based upon faith and grace ; b) It holds out motives for right conduct of which unaided reason is either totally ignorant or has only an imperfect knowledge ; c) It establishes most of its conclusions on divine revelation, while natural moral derives its principles from the native power of reason alone ; d) It offers means of which natural moral knows nothing. Hence Catholic moral is incomparably more sublime, far-reaching, certain, and effectual than merely natural morality. The history of mankind shows that "morality lives by faith and dies by infidelity." "What Greek culture did for the intellect, Christ did for morality: the human race owes its moral power to Him" (CHAMB~IN). Catholic Moral is divided into "General" and "Special". General Moral treats of the conditions of morality and of moral good and moral evil; Special Moral applies the general principles of morality to the various circumstances of individual and social life. The conditions of morality are freedom of will, law, and conscience: fr?edom is the basis, law is the external, and conscience the internal norm of morality. SUGGES I. What is the purpose of our life ? Briefly explain your answer. How does the Our Father answer this question ? 2. What kind of submission to God's will should we cultivate ? Are we children or slaves of God? 3. Was ever a human will in perfect harmony with the divine will ? Would not such a Person be a perfect model for us ? Show how the God-Man Jesus Christ is such a model. + When are our actions good ? When are they bad ? Prove your answers from Holy Scripture. S. Wha,t is the science called which teaches us how to direct our actions to God? 6. How is CiN"istian Moral divided ? What does each division treat of ? 7. What are the conditions of morality ? If you had no free will, could you perform a moral act; that is, an act for which you could be held responsible ? 8. Reading: I mitation of Christ, Bk. III, ch. 9, "That all things must be referred to God as the final end."

CONTENTS PAGE IINTRODUCTION: The Nature and Value of Apologetics A. Knowledge and the Sources of Knowledge. , xi B.FaithandltsJustification xii C. Nature and Division of Apologetics xiv D. The Value of Apologetics xiv SECTION I REASONABLENESS OF OUR BELIEF IN GOD CHAPTER I. The Exist~nce of God A. The Arguments for the Existence of God in General. I B. The Teleological Argument, or the Reign of Law in the Universe 4 C. The Cosmological Argument, or God and the Origin of the Universe 10 D. The Moral Argument, or God in Conscience. !4 E. The Historical Argument, or Man's Need of God. 17 F. The Nature and Attributes of God 19 CHAPTER ". Man and His Place in the Universe A. The Immortality of the Soul 25 I. The Possibility of Immortality 26 2. The Fact of Immortality 28 3. Objections to the Belief in Immortality 3! B. Man and the Lower Animals 32 C. Prehistoric Man 35 D. The Age of Man 37 SECTION n REASONABLENESS OF OUR BELIEF IK CHRIST CHAPTER 1. Revelation and the Signs of Revelation. 47 CHAPTER ". Sourees of Our Knowledge of Christ and His Teaching A. Non-Christian Sources 53 B. Christian Sources 55 I. The Epistles of St. Paul and the Other Apostles. 55 2. The Four Gospels 5; a) The Gospels are Genuine 58 b) The Gospels are Intact 62 c) The Gospels are Truthfnl 65 3. TheActsoftheApostles 68 ix x CONTENTS ! CHAPTER III. The Claims of Jesus A. JesusClaimedtobetheMessias.,..., , ",.,...,"" 71 B.Jesus Claimed to be the SonofGod ",..., , 7] C. Some Difficulties Solved ,...,..,.,.."..."..., , 75 CHAPTER IV. Jesus Justified His Claim!; A. The Perfect Holiness of Jcsus , ,. 82 B. The Superhuman Wisdom of Jesus , ,. R3 C. The Miracles of J esus , 86 SECTION In REASONABLENESS OF OUR BELIEF IN THE CHURCH CHAPTER I. The Founding of the Church, , ..., , , , , 93 CHAPTER II. The Constitution of the Church. ., , , ., ., .., , .99 CHAPTER III. The Primacy of St. Peter. , ., , 1O3 CHAPTER IV. The Primacy of the Roman Pontiff. , .., .., 1o9 CHAPTER V. The Infallibility of the Church and the Pope A. The Church of Christ Must Be Infallible , 115 B. The Infallibility of the Pope 117 C. Some Objections Answered , " 118 CHAPTER VI. Outside the Church There Is No Salvation. 123 INDEX ,', , 131 r ! Introduction THE NATURE J\ND V ALUE OF ApOLOGETICS A. Knolvledgc (uld the ,~ources 01 Knolvledge I. We possess all our knowledge in the form of judgments. -We know something only when '\'e state, at least mentally, that two ideas or concepts, one of which is called the subject, the other the predicate, agree with each other, or do not agree with each other, I f I say: "Shakespeare is a dramatist," I assert the agree- ment of the two concepts "Shakespeare" and "dramatist." I f I say: "Men are not angels," I assert the disagreement of the t\VO concepts "men" and "angels." 2. If our judgment is in harmony with reality, it is a true judgment, as "Heat expands iron" ; if it is not in harmony with reality, it is a false judgment, as " A circle is not round," I four judgments are uttered without fear of error, they are cerfain; if they are uttered with fear of error, they are ftnccrfain, and therefore mere opinions. "Twice two is four," is a certain judg- ment; "Tomorrow will be rainy," is nothing but an opinion. 3. Before making a judgment we must have a reason for doing so.-We get our reasons for forming our judgments from what are cal!ed the sources of knO'ltIledgc. There are of various kinds : a) Some truths are in themselves so evident as to be clearly understood by al! who have the use of reason, as soon as they are put in words. Such truths are cal!ed sclf-evident, because they require no demonstration. For example, when once we understand the meaning of the terms, we cannot fail to grasp that "the whole is greater than its part," or that "the radii of a circle are equal," or that "everything which begins to exist must have been brought into existence by something distinct from itself," or that "what is, is, and cannot at the same time not be." b) From these self-evident and necessary truths another class of truths is drawn by a process of reasoning, that is, not by com- paring two concepts directly ,vith each other, but by comparing each with a third, on the principle that two things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other. xiii -:T- INTl{ODUCTION c) Other things we know to be true from the evidence of our se1JSes. We can trust our senses unhesitatingly if the sense we are using, e.g., sight or hearing, is in a normal condition and properly applied to the object. d) Lastly, there, are many things which we do not know of our- selves, but which we accept on the authority of otl1er people. If our belief rests on the testimony of man, who can err, it is human faith; i f it rests on the testimony of God, who cannot err, it is Divine Faith.. B. Faith and Its Justification I. To have Divine Faith means to hold firmly and without doubting, all that Go<.! has revealed and, through His Church, pro- poses for our belief. The truths of revelation are the Object of Faith; the authority of God, implying infallibility in knowledge, and truth in utterance, is the M olive of faith, the reason 'It,hy we believe what God has revealed. The Church is the ordinary and infallible means by which we know the truths revealed by God. Our reason left to itself gives assent only to such judgments as are evidently true. Hence, since the Articles of Faith are not evident, the u.j/l plays a very important part in the making of an Act of Faith. O11ly he can belil"lle '(('ho is '(t.illillg to believe. The will gives assent to the word of God because it sees in God its highest good. With Simon Peter it says: "Thou hast the words of eternal life" (John 6,69). In giving its assent, the will is ele- vated and strengthened by the grace of G od. By grace, our Faith becomes supernatural; by the assent of the will, it becomes a free , moral, and, therefore, meritorious act. 2. Our Faith is not an affair of sentiment, a leap in the dark, or an "abdication of our reason" ; on the contrary, it is a "seeing faith," a "reasonable service." Every intelligent Catholic should be in a position to justify his Faith at the bar of his reason and his conscience. He must, in other words, be able to form the fol- lowing judgments : a) I tI~ay and can believe these truths proposed for my belief, because God has revealed them ; b) I must believe these truths, because God is my supreme Lord and my only salvation. The first of these judgments, which is called the judgment of ~- INTRODUCTION xv "Lord to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the words of , eternal life." (John 6, 69) crcdibility (judiciun� credibilitatis) rests on three other judg- ments: I. There is a God who can neither deceive nor be deceived. 2. This God has revealed Himself to tIS in the Old Testament through the Patriarchs and the Prophets, in the New Testament through Christ and the Apostles. 3. Christ fo�mdcd a ChurcJ~ which He endowed with infallibil- ity for the safeguarding and propagation of Divine Revelation. These three judgments are called motives of credibility ( 7notiva rrcdibilitatis) .The first is philosophical, the other two are histori- cal. In the case of the second, viz., that God has revealed Himself to us, it is sufficient to prove that J esus Chrlsl ir Ike S(71t (7/ C(7tt' ond //w rn.rJ'rUntC;1tJ' (7/ .D"VI:'t"" ..R """/al'..0,,,,- He guarantees for us the revelations =ade ir7 the Old Testarnent j and by His teaching and the sending of the Holy Ghost on the Apostles, He also guar- antees the revelations made through the Apostles. 3. The Mysteries of our Faith cannot be proved from reason INTRODUCTION xv "Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the words of eternal life." (John 6, 69) credibility (judiciunt credibilitatis) rests on three other j udg- ments: I. There is a God who can neither deceive nor be deceived. 2. This God has re'"llealed Himself to us in the Old Testament through the Patriarchs and the Prophets, in the New Testament through Christ and the Apostles. 3. Christ fotmded a Church which He endowed with infallibil- ity for the safeguarding and propagation of Divine Revelation. These three judgments are called motives of credibility ( 1notiva credibilitatis) .The first is philosophical, the other two are histori- cal. In the case of the second, viz., that God has revealed Himsel f to us, it is sufficient to prove that lest's Christ is the Son of God and tlze instruntent of Divine Revelation. He guarantees for us the revelations made in the Old Testament; and by His teaching and the sending of the Holy Ghost on the Apostles, He also guar- antees the revelations made through the Apostles. 3. The Mysteries of our Faith cannot be proved from reason xvi INTRODUCTION and history, because they are beyond reason and therefore incom- prehensible. "The divine mysteries," says the Council of the Vatican, "by their own nature so far transcend the. created intelligence that, even when delivered by Revelation and received by Faith, they remain covered with a veil of Faith itself, and shrouded in a certain degree of darkness, so long as \ve are pilgrims in this mortal life, not yet with God."* In regard to these mysteries we must content ourselves \vith proving that they are not contrary to reason and that they possess an ine~timable value for our souls. It is different with the three truths on which the reasonableness of our Faith rests. The exist- ence of God, the Divinity of Christ, and the divine institution of the Church can be proved by philosophical and historical arguments. c. Nature and Division 01 Apologetics The science which proves the reasonableness of the Catholic Faith is called Apologc.tics, from the Greek word apologia, "de- fense," "justification." "Be ready always," says St. Peter, "to .I"atisfy everyone that asketh you a reason of that hope which is in yOlI" (I Pet. 3,15). I. Apologetics answers three questions.- I. ~Vhy 1nust we worship God? 2. rv.h.v m/.tst 'l{'e be Christians? 3. ~Vhy mJ.tst 'l('e be Caiholics? 2. In our defense of our Faith we have three classes of opponents to deal with.- I. .4thcists, Pantheists, and .L11aterialists, who deny the exist- ence of a Living, Personal God; i.e. of a Being endowed with intelligence and free will, the First Cause of all things distinct from Jlimself. 2. J e'lt'S, M ohammedans, Deists ( Rationalists) , and lndiffer- ('ntists, who deny the divine origin of the Christian Religion. 3. If eretics of various kinds, \V ho deny one or more articles of the Catholic Faith. D. The "alue 01 Apologetics I. Apologetics cannot produce supernatural Faith.-Faith is a gift of God. In Baptism God even "gives us the eyes with which to see Him." Besides, Apologetics appeals entirely to the *Vatican Council I (1870) is referred to here. -Editor (1990). - INTRODUCTION xvii THE HARMONY OF FAITH AND REASON intellect, whereas Faith is a matter both of the intellect and th~ will. "Faith," says St. Thomas, "is an act of the ltnderstanding adhering to Divine Truth by command of the will moved by the grace of God." 2. Apologetics does not claim to be able to prove the foon- dations of Faith with mathematical certainty.- The proposi- tion "The whole is greater than its part" forces conviction on us because the contrary proposition is unthinkable. But the proposi- tion "Jesus of"Nazareth arose from the dead" is not evident in the same way. It is an historical statement, the contrary of which is not impossibIe or unthinkable. The highest kil1d of certainty We can have in regard to it is that Jvhich t';rclttdcs a!! reasonab!r doubt. Our proofs are conclusive, but not coercive. They carry convictiol1 to those who consider them with open minds, but not to those who are blinded by Passion or preJudIce. "lIlathematical propositions," says the French philosopher Malebranche ,re ~ot attacked sim?ly because the human passions are not interested i; ~cki?g t?em. But If the Pythagorean proposition imposed any moral !Igatlon, It would certainly be attacked If Some AcademfS. t h S..Yo Clence re o set up. t. e Ixth and Seventh Commandments as scientific propo- D~S. the valIdIty of these propositions would immediately be called in stlon by all the adulterers and thieves in the world." -- INTRODUCTION xvii THE HARMONY OF FAITH AND REASON intellect, whereas Faith is a matter both of the intellect and th- will. "Faith," says St. Thomas, "is an act of the Itnderstandin9 adhering to Divine Truth by command of the will moved by the grace of God." 2. Apologetics does not claim to be able to prove the foun- dations of Faith with mathematical certainty.-The proposi- tion "The whole is greater than its part" forces conviction on us because the contrary proposition is unthinkable. But the proposi- tion "Jesus of"Nazareth arose from the dead" is not evident in the same way. It is an historical statement, the contrary of which is not impossible or unthinkable. The highest kind of certainty we can have in regard to it is that \vhich e.rclude.1' allreasonabll' doubt. Our proofs are conclusive, but not coercive. They carry conviction to those who consider them with open minds, but not to those who are blinded by passion or prejudice. "Mathematical propositions," says the French philosopher Malebranche, "are not attacked simply because the human passions are not interested in attacking them. But if the Pythagorean proposition imposed any moral obligation, it would certainly be attacked. If some Academy of Science were to set up the Sixth and Seventh Commandments as scientific propo- sitions, the validity of these propositions would immediately be called in question by all the adulterers and thieves in the world." c I a xviii INTRODUCTION 3. The real function of Apologetics is twofold.-(a) to sat- isfy the intellect of the honest inquirer, and, with the aid of grace, to awaken in him the pius credulitatis affectus-the pious longing for the Faith; ( b) to strengthen in the believer the resolve never to barter his holy Faith for the shallow theories of a false philos- ophyor the mess of pottage of a false morality. In a letter dated January 6, 1815, Volta, the famous scientist, declares: "I have always believed and still believe the holy Catholic Faith to be the one true and infallible religion. In this Faith I recognize a pure gift of God, a supernatural grace. But I have not neglected those human means which confirm belief and overthrow such doubts as may arise to tempt me. I have given attentive study to the �oundations of my Faith. I have read in the works both of defenders and assailants of the Faith arguments �or and against it, and have derived thence arguments in its �avor which render it most acceptable even to the purely natural reason and prove it to be such that any mind unperverted by sin and passion, any healthy and generous mind, carnlot but accept and love it" (Kneller, Christianity and the Repre- sentatives of Moder,~ Science, St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., p. 116). 4. In order to profit by the study of Apologetics, we must approach it in the right spirit-the sfririt of h~tmility; for if there is a God, the attitude of ollr soul towards Him must necessarily be the humble petition: "Lord, that I may see." And we must purge our hearts from the dominion of the passions, for only the pure of heart shall see God-in this life as well as in the next. 5. The student of Apologetics should heed the admonition of St. Augustine : "We must not want to solve all the difficulties against the Faith before \\.e believe, in order that our life may not come to an end without faith. Simple faith gives us an ever deeper understanding of the things of faith. By faith we subject ourselves to God. If we subject ourselves to God, we shall live right; if we live right, our heart becomes pure; and if Ollr heart is pure, we shall see the truth of what we believe." Supplementary Reading Faith Is a Gift of God Faith is a gift of God, and not a mere act of our own, which we are free to exert when we will. It is quite distinct from an exercise of reason. though it follows, upon it. I may �eel the force of an argument for the divine origin of the Church; I may see that I ought to believe; and yet I may be unable to believe. ...Faith is not a mere conviction in reason, it is a firm assent, it is a clear certainty greater than any other certainty; INTRODUCTION xix and this is wrought in the mind by the grace of God, and by it alone. As then men may be convinced, and not act according to their conviction, so may they be convinced, and not believe according to their conviction. ... In a word, the arguments fQr religion dQ not compel anyone to believe, just as arguments for good conduct do not compel anyone to obey. Obedience is the consequence of willing to obey, and faith is the consequence of willing to believe; we may see what is right, whether in matters of faith or obedience, of ourselves, but we cannot will what is right without the grace of God. -NEWMAN, Discourses to Mired Congregations, p. 224. The Study of the Science of Apologetics N ecessary Especially in Our Dajl Though the existence of God is a truth koowable, and easily knowable, \y the light of reason, there are many that call that truth in question. Professed Agnostics are perhaps more numerous now than they have ever been before. How to account for this increase in Agnosticism, who can tell ? The advances made in physical science can give no clue to it. ... But whatever the reason may be, Agnosticism is apparently on the increase. It is difficult to avoid contact with Agnostics. They are to be met with in every rank of life. Some of them are aggressive and wish to meet us in discussion. Others profess a wish to believe, and invite us to remove their difficulties. If we ought to be prepared to justify the faith that is i~ us, much more ought we to be prepared to justify that conviction of God's existence, which is presupposed by all our faith. We ought to be able to defend this conviction against any that might choose to assail it; and still more ought we to be able to extend a helping hand to such as might come tD us in the spirit of honest inquiry. We say in a spirit of honest inquiry, for it may very well be that one who has through no fault of his lost belief in God, is no\V honestly endeavoring to find his way back to the truth. -GILDEA, Introduction to HAMMERSTEIN, Foundations of Faith, St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., p. ix. SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY AND REVIEW I. In what form do we possess all our knowledge ? 2. When are our judgments true ? false ? certain ? uncertain ? 3. What is meant by the sources of knowledge ? 4. What is meant by self-evident truths ? Give examples. S. How do we acquire knowledge of truths which are not self-evident ? 6. When are our senses infallible sources of truth ? 7. What is the difference between human and divine faith ? 8. Define divine faith. VlThat is its motive ? its object ? 9. What part does the will play in the act of faith ? 10. Is faith an abdication of reason ? Why not ? 11. What is meant by the judgment of credibility ? On what other judgments does it rest ? What are these called ? - xx INTRODUCTION 12. What is our position in regard to mysteries ? 13. Define Apologetics. What three questions does it answer ? 14. Who are the opponents of the Catholic Apologist ? 15. What kind of certainty can we attain in regard to the foundations of our faith ? 16. What is the real function of Apologetics ? 17. Why should we study Apologetics in the spirit of humility ? 18. Write a brief paragraph on each of the following : Agnostic, St. Tholnas Aq..inas, Vatican Council, J.falebranche, Volta, Sf. Augusfine. (Consult the New Catholic Dictionary or the Catholic Encyclopedia.)

I.

THIS is the story of Odysseus, the most renowned of all the heroes the Greek poets have told us of -of Odysseus, his wars and his wanderings. And this story of Odysseus begins with his son, the youth who was called Telemachus.

It was when Telemachus was a child of a month old that a messenger came from Agamemnon, the Great King, bidding Odysseus betake himself to the war against Troy that the Kings and Princes of Greece were about to wage. The wise Odysseus, foreseeing the disasters that would befall all that entered that war, was loth to go. And so when Agamemnon's messenger came to the island of Ithaka where he was King, Odysseus pretended to be mad. And that the messenger, Palamedes, might believe he was mad indeed, he did a thing that no man ever saw being done before-he took an ass and an ox and yoked them together to the same plough and began to plough a field. And when he had ploughed a furrow he sowed it, not with seeds that would grow, but with salt. When Palamedes saw him doing this he was nearly persuaded that Odysseus was mad. But to test him he took the child Telemachus and laid him down in the field in the way of the plough. Odysseus, when he came near to where the child lay, turned the plough aside and thereby showed that he was not a mad man. Then had he to take King Agamemnon's summons. And Agamemnon's word was that Odysseus should go to Aulis where the ships of the Kings and Princes of Greece were being gathered. But first he was to go into another country to seek the hero Achilles and persuade him also to enter the war against Troy.

And so Odysseus bade good-bye to his infant son, Telemachus, and to his young wife, Penelope, and to his father, old Laertes. And he bade good-bye to his house and his lands and to the island of Ithaka where he was King. He summoned a council of the chief men of Ithaka and commended to their care his wife and his child and all his household, and thereafter he took his sailors and his fighting men with him and he sailed away. The years went by and Odysseus did not return. After ten years the City was taken by the Kings and Princes of Greece and the thread of war was wound up. But still Odysseus did not return. And now minstrels came to Ithaka with word of the deaths or the homecomings of the heroes who had fought in the war against Troy. But no minstrel brought any word of Odysseus, of his death or of his appearance in any land known to men. Ten years more went by. And now that infant son whom he had left behind, Telemachus, had grown up and was a young man of strength and purpose.

II

ONE day, as he sat sad and disconsolate in the house of his father, the youth Telemachus saw a stranger come to the outer gate. There were many in the court outside, but no one went to receive the newcomer. Then, because he would never let a stranger stand at the gate without hurrying out to welcome him, and because, too, he had hopes that some day such a one would bring him tidings of his father, Telemachus rose up from where he was sitting and went down the hall and through the court and to the gate at which the stranger stood.

'Welcome to the house of Odysseus,' said Telemachus giving him his hand. The stranger clasped it with a friendly clasp. 'I thank you, Telemachus,' he said, 'for your welcome, and glad I am to enter the house of your father, the renowned Odysseus.'

The stranger looked like one who would be a captain amongst soldiers. His eyes were grey and clear and shone wonderfully. In his hand he carried a great bronze spear. He and Telemachus went together through the court and into the hall. And when the stranger left his spear within the spearstand Telemachus took him to a high chair and put a footstool under his feet. He had brought him to a place in the hall where the crowd would not come. There were many in the court outside and Telemachus would not have his guest disturbed by questions or clamours. A handmaid brought water for the washing of his hands, and poured it over them from a golden ewer into a silver basin. A polished table was left at his side. Then the house- dame brought wheaten bread and many dainties. Other servants set down dishes of meat with golden cups, and afterwards the maids came into the hall and filled up the cups with wine.

But the servants who waited on Telemachus and his guest were disturbed by the crowd of men who now came into the hall. They seated themselves at tables and shouted out their orders. Great dishes of meat were brought to them and bowls of wine, and the men ate and drank and talked loudly to each other and did not refrain even from staring at the stranger who sat with Telemachus.

'Is there a wedding-feast in the house?' the stranger asked, 'or do the men of your clan meet here to drink with each other ?'

A flush of shame came to the face of Telemachus. ' There is no wedding-feast here,' he said, 'nor do the men of our clan meet here to drink with each other. Listen to me, my guest. Because you look so wise and because you seem so friendly to my father's name I will tell you who these men are and why they trouble this house.'

THEREUPON Telemachus told the stranger how his father had not returned from the war of Troy although it was now ten years since the City was taken by those with whom he went. ' Alas,' Telemachus said, 'he must have died on his way back to us, and I must think that his bones lie under some nameless strait or channelof the ocean. Would he had died in the fight at Troy! Then the Kings and Princes would have made him a burial-mound worthy of his name and his deeds. His memory would have been reverenced amongst men, and I, his son, would have a name, and would not be imposed upon by such men as you see here - men who are feasting and giving orders in my father's house and wasting the substance that he gathered.'

'How come they to be here?' asked the stranger.

Telemachus told him about this also. When seven years had gone by from the fall of Troy and still Odysseus did not return there were those who thought he was dead and would never be seen more in the land of Ithaka. Then many of the young lords of the land wanted Penelope, Telemachus' mother, to marry one of them. They came to the house to woo her for marriage. But she, mourning for the absence of Odysseus and ever hoping that he would return, would give no answer to them. For three years now they were coming to the house of Odysseus to woo the wife whom he had left behind him. ' They want to put my lady-mother between two dread difficulties,' said Telemachus, , either to promise to wed one of them or to see the substance of our house wasted by them. Here they come and eat the bread of our fields, and slay the beasts of our flocks and herds, and drink the wine that in the old days my father laid up, and weary our servants with their orders.'

When he had told him all this Telemachus raised his head and looked at the stranger: ' O my guest,' he said, 'wisdom and power shine out of your eyes. Speak now to me and tell me what I should do to save the house of Odysseus from ruin. And tell me too if you think it possible that my father should still be in life.'

The stranger looked at him with his grey, clear, wonderfully- shining eyes. ' Art thou verily the son of Odysseus ? ' said he.

'Verily, I am the son of Odysseus,' said Telemachus.

'As I look at you,' said the stranger, 'I mark your head and eyes, and I know they are such a head and such eyes as Odysseus had. Well, being the son of such a man, and of such a woman as the lady Penelope, your spirit surely shall find a way of destroying those wooers who would destroy your house.'

' Already,' said Telemachus, , your gaze and your speech make me feel equal to the task of dealing with them.'

'I think,' said the stranger, 'that Odysseus, your father, has not perished from the earth. He may yet win home through labors and perils. But you should seek for tidings of him. Harken to me now and I shall tell you what to do.

' To-morrow summon a council of all the chief men of the land of Ithaka, and stand up in that council and declare that the time has come for the wooers who waste your substance to scatter, each man to his own home. And after the council has been held I would have you voyage to find out tidings of your father, whether he still lives and where he might be. Go to Pylos first, to the home of Nestor, that old King who was with your father in the war of Troy. Beg Nestor to give you whatever tidings he has of Odysseus. And from Pylos go to Sparta, to the home of Menelaus and Helen, and beg tidings of your father from them too. And if you get news of his being alive, return: It will be easy for you then to endure for another year the wasting of your substance by those wooers. But if you learn that your father, the renowned Odysseus, is indeed dead and gone, then come back, and in your own country raise a great funeral mound to his memory, and over it pay all funeral rites. Then let your mother choose a good man to be her husband and let her marry him, knowing for a certainty that Odysseus will never come back to his own house. After that something will remain for you to do: You will have to punish those wooers who destroy the goods your father gathered and who insult his house by their presence. And when all these things have been done, you, Telemachus, will be free to seek out your own fortune: you will rise to fame, for I mark that you are handsome and strong and most likely to be a wise and valiant man. But now I must fare on my journey .'

The stranger rose up from where he sat and went with Telemachus from the hall and through the court and to the outer gate. Telemachus said: 'What you have told me I shall not forget. I know you have spoken out of a wise and a friendly heart, and as a father to his son.'

The stranger clasped his hands and went through the gate. And then, as he looked after him Telemachus saw the stranger change in his form. He became first as a woman, tall, with fair hair and a spear of bronze in her hand. And then the form of a woman changed too. It changed into a great sea-eagle that on wide wings rose up and flew high through the air. Telemachus knew then that his visitor was an immortal and no other than the goddess Athene who had been his father's friend.