rand discipline just for the present end,
which is to be the great deed of deliverance.

Moreover the place has a character of its own, a peculiar atmosphere in
sympathy with its purpose. Its strength we feel, its adamantine
fidelity to the House of Ulysses. It is a secluded spot in contrast to
the palace; its occupant is a slave in contrast to the kings who are
suitors; his business is to be the companion of swine in contrast to
the regal entertainment at court. The highest and the humblest of the
social order are here placed side by side; with what result? The
unswerving rock of loyalty is the hut and the heart of the swineherd;
upon it as the foundation the shattered institutional world of Ithaca
is to be rebuilt. The lowest class of society is, after all, the basis
of the edifice; if it remain sound, then the superstructure can be
erected again after the fiery purification. But if it be utterly
rotten, what then? Such, however, is not the case in Ithaca, as long as
there exists a man like the swineherd. From his rock, then, and, still
more, from his spirit, is to issue the energy which is to transform
that perverted land of Ithaca.

Still, here too Ulysses is the pivot, the central character; the hero
both in thought and action, for whom Eumaeus furnishes a spatial and
spiritual environment. The hut of the swineherd is but a phase, one
landing-place in the career of Ulysses. An idyllic spot and forever
beautiful; who but Homer has ever gotten so much poetry out of a
pig-sty? We witness the transfiguration of what is the very lowest of
human existence into what is the very highest, veritably the Godlike on
earth.

Ulysses, however, has to remain in disguise even to his most faithful
servant; not out of distrust we must think, but out of prudence.
Knowing his master, the swineherd would be a different person in the
presence of the Suitors; he has an open, sincere, transparent heart,
and he would probably let the secret be seen which lay therein. The
gift of disguise he possesses not, as Ulysses has clearly observed in
his conversation; in this respect he is the contrast to the Hero
himself. But Telemachus will get the secret, for he has craft, is the
true son of his father; has he not just shown the paternal trait in
cunningly thwarting the Suitors who are lying in wait for him, by the
help of Pallas, of course?

In these four Books, accordingly, we behold one stage of the great
preparation for the deed which is