A Fleece of Gold
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A Fleece of Gold
Five Lessons from the Fable of Jason and the Golden Fleece
by
Charles Stewart Given
1905
Second Edition Revised
To my sons
Kingsley and Gordon
"Jason and his men seized the favorable moment of the rebound, plied
their oars with vigor, and passed through in safety."
Contents
Introduction
I. The Ruling Element, "Jason and his men."
II. The Golden Quality, "They passed through."
III. The Messenger of Fate, "They seized the favourable moment."
IV. The Active Hand, "They plied their oars with vigor."
V. Ethics of Activity
Foreword
Among the smaller forces which operate upon the mind and tend toward
strengthening and exalting the best ideals, are little books like this.
They are especially valuable when so much of the author's own experience
forms a thread upon which are suspended jewels of thought and illustration
serviceable to those who would see and know the best things.
I have found these characteristics in this small volume, and gladly
recommend it to all those who would become more familiar with what our
author calls "the key to that cabinet of character in which nature
conceals not only the motive power of every-day life, but those latent
talents and energies that, through a knowledge of self, we can bring to
bear upon our lives." This book will help many who have small
opportunities in the form of time and money to expend in the use of
larger volumes.
Charles Stewart Given
Introduction
The fable of Jason and the Golden Fleece is known to old and young the
world around. To the latter, perhaps, no other simple narrative in
Greek mythology is more fascinating, nor holds a more valuable lesson
if they will but seek to learn it. But especially to the boy or young
man of thoughtful mind does the glorious adventure appeal and make its
lessons obvious. By way of refreshing the memory of those who were once
familiar with the myth, but who, in the practical school of experience,
have lost the chord of their adventure-loving days; and also for those,
perchance, who are not acquainted with the tale, a brief sketch will
here serve our purpose.
In Thessaly dwell a king and a queen with their two children, a boy and a
girl. The holy alliance between the two royal members of the household
becomes disrupted, and Nephele, the good mother, appeals to Mercury, the
messenger of the gods, to assist her in secretly placing the children out
of reach of their father, the king. Mercury provides a ram with a golden
fleece, on which the boy and girl are placed. The shining creature springs
into the air, bearing its precious burden across the sea. Unfortunately,
the girl falls from the ram's back and is drowned, but the boy is landed
safely on the other shore in the kingdom of Colchis. Here he sacrifices
the ram to Jupiter and presents the golden fleece to the king, who places
it in a consecrated grove under the care of a sleepless dragon.
Now Jason is heir to the throne of Æson, ruler of another kingdom in
Thessaly, from whence the royal children started on their adventurous
journey. Years have passed, however, since this remarkable incident, and
Jason, being now a young man and having been told the dramatic tale of
the Golden Fleece, begins to think what a glorious adventure it would be
to go in quest of the royal prize. Forthwith he makes preparations for
the expedition, and with a band of other lusty young heroes starts on a
sea voyage toward the land of the Colchian king. It is not without
difficulty, however, that they accomplish the voyage, for at the entrance
of the Euxine Sea they encounter two floating islands, veritable
mountains of rock, huge and shaggy, which, in their tossings and
heavings, at intervals come together "crushing and grinding to atoms any
object that might be caught between them." But "_Jason and his men seized
the favorable moment of the rebound, plied their oars with vigor and
passed through in safety_."
Approaching the royal palace Jason makes known his mission, whereupon
the king promises to relinquish the valuable possession if Jason will
yoke to the plow two fire-breathing bulls and sow the teeth of the
dragon. Apprehending that by this means the king seeks to destroy him,
Jason pleads his cause to Medea, the king's daughter, who furnishes him
a charm by which he can safely encounter the fiery breath of the beasts
and the armed men that will spring up in the furrow where the dragon's
teeth are sown.
In his "Age of Fable," Bullfinch gives us a graphic picture of the scene:
"At the time appointed the people assembled at the grove of Mars, and the
king assumed his royal seat, while the multitude covered the hill-sides.
The brazen-footed bulls rushed in, breathing fire from their nostrils that
burned up the herbage as they passed. The sound was like the roar of a
furnace, and the smoke like that of water upon quick-lime. Jason advanced
boldly to meet them. His friends, the chosen heroes of Greece, trembled to
behold him. Regardless of the burning breath, he soothed their rage with
his voice, patted their necks with fearless hand, and adroitly slipped
over them the yoke, and compelled them to drag the plow. The Colchians
were amazed; the Greeks shouted for joy. Jason next proceeded to sow the
dragon's teeth and plow them in. And soon the crop of armed men sprang up,
and, wonderful to relate! no sooner had they reached the surface than they
began to brandish their weapons and rush upon Jason. The Greeks trembled
for their hero, and even she who had provided him a way of safety and
taught him how to use it, Medea herself, grew pale with fear. Jason for a
time kept his assailants at bay with his sword and shield, till finding
their numbers overwhelming, he resorted to the charm which Medea had
taught him, seized a stone and threw it in the midst of his foes. They
immediately turned their arms against one another, and soon there was not
one of the dragon's brood left alive."
Having complied with all the conditions set forth by the king, the victor
now turns with eager step toward the grove of Mars, and seizing the golden
prize makes his way back to Thessaly, rejoicing in his glorious success.
I
The Ruling Element
"Jason and His Men."
What constitutes a state?
Not high-raised battlements or labored mound,
Thick wall or moated gate;
Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned;
Not bays and broad armed ports,
Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred and spangled courts,
Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride.
No! men--high-minded men--
With powers as far above dull brutes endued,
In forest, brake, or den,
As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude.
--Sir William Jones.
The Young Man
Jason has just stepped over the threshold into the glory of a rich young
manhood. And he is careful to select for his expedition some of the
choicest heroes of Greece--young, brave, and strong. It has ever been
thus. Youth has always been synonymous with adventure. It is a condition
which seems inherent; nature instilling into the blood of her sons the
very spirit of discontent--of longing to push out from the commonplace
scenes of childhood into broader domains of experience.
The very books which most fascinate the boy are those which deal in
thrilling tales of adventure. The wily and unscrupulous traffickers in
cheap literature have ever been awake to this fact, and their
highly-colored productions have been flung from the vicious presses like
lava from Pelée to pollute the minds of the young. Why is it that
"Robinson Crusoe" and stories of this character hold such a charm for
young people, lingering in their minds long after books of a profounder
type have been forgotten? It is the love of adventure. To what boy at
school does not the doleful history lesson assume a more brilliant aspect
when the adventures of Columbus are taken up? His interest is awakened,
his imagination inspired, and he is delighted, all because again that
chord in his nature has been struck--the love of adventure.
Perhaps no other single painting in the art galleries at the World's Fair
of 1893 attracted the attention of a greater number of people, nor
awakened in so many human breasts a feeling of such intense pathos as
Thomas Hovenden's painting on "Breaking Home Ties." Here we have it once
more, adventure--Jason setting off on his journey in search for the golden
fleece of fame and fortune. The narrow path that so long has led him out
into the silent acres--the fields that so many years have responded to
his toil--he has forsaken. The dull routine has ceased to inspire, the
home circle has become too narrow for his expanding soul. He has caught a
glimpse of the glories of a new kingdom, and now he is going out to
realize them.
The young man has always been the _ruling element_ in every new departure.
He has been the rock upon which the ages have been founded. In the words
of another: "When the roll-call which men have written is read, it will be
found that the young men have ruled the world. The oldest literatures have
this record. The patriarchs unfolded the careers of boys into the conquest
of old age. Kingdom and empire rode upon the shoulders of young men, and
their voices of enthusiasm and hope have sounded through many a
black-breasted midnight and trumpeted the dawn through skies of thickest
darkness. To causes that drooped they have come and added the raptures of
hope; to enterprises that were sickening and faint they have brought the
bounding power of new enthusiasm. To the dead they have brought life.
Everything from the foundation of the world has been crying for 'young
blood,' and the armies of the advance have gained the day at the arrival
of 'recruits,' whose hope and earnestness have never been defeated. Age
and experience put themselves upon dying pillows made by young hands; into
young palms and upon young ears falls the meaning of all the past; and
thus God has written the natural dignity of the young man's life in the
eternal statute book of the universe." [Footnote: From "Young Men of
History," by Dr. F.W. Gunsaulus.]
We have but to turn our gaze back over the centuries to find that it has
always been the young man who has embarked in the world's great
enterprises. If we turn the pages of religious history we shall find that
he has been potent there. For when the stream of Hebrew destiny was to be
turned, a young man, Joseph, who had been sold as a slave into Egypt, was
selected to accomplish it. And later young Saul of Kish while roaming
through his father's fields was summoned to a throne. It was the young
shepherd boy--David--that was chosen "to keep the banner of Israel in the
sky while the shadows hung black above the hills of Judah." When the
gospel was to be borne to the Gentiles the divine finger fell upon a young
tent-maker of Tarsus. Fourteen centuries later a miner's son, Martin
Luther, won Germany for the Reformation, and John Wesley "while yet a
student in college" started his mighty world-famous movement. At fifteen
John de Medici was a cardinal, and Bossuet was known by his eloquence; at
sixteen Pascal wrote a great work. Ignatius Loyola before he was thirty
began his pilgrimage, and soon afterward wrote his most famous books. At
twenty-two Savonarola was rousing the consciences of the Florentines, and
at twenty-five John Huss was an enthusiastic champion of truth.
But we see the young man standing before the footlights on the stage of
secular history, too. At twelve Remenyi was making his violin tremulous
with melody, and Cæsar delivered an oration at Rome; at thirteen Henry M.
Stanley was a teacher; at fourteen Demosthenes was known as an orator; at
fifteen Robert Burns was a great poet, Rossini composed an opera, and
Liszt was a wizard in music. At the age of sixteen Victor Hugo was known
throughout France; at seventeen Mozart had made a name in Germany, and
Michael Angelo was a rising star in Italy. At eighteen Marcus Aurelius was
made a consul; at nineteen Byron was the "amazing genius" of his time; at
twenty Raphael had finished some of his most famous paintings, Faraday was
attracting the attention of his country, and two years later was admitted
to the Royal Institution of Great Britain. At twenty-one Alexander the
Great conquered the Persians, Beethoven was entrancing the world with his
music, and William Wilberforce was in Parliament. At twenty-two William
Pitt had entered Parliament, while William of Orange had received from
Charles V command of an army. At twenty-three William E. Gladstone had
denounced the Reform Bill at Oxford, and two years afterward became First
Junior Lord of the Treasury, and Livingstone was exploring the continent.
At twenty-four Sir Humphrey Davy was Professor of Chemistry in the Royal
Institution, Dante, Ruskin, and Browning had become famous writers. At
twenty-five Hume had written his treatise on Human Nature, Galileo was
lecturer of science at the University of Pisa, and Mark Antony was the
"hero of Rome." At twenty-six Sir Isaac Newton had made his greatest
discoveries; at twenty-seven Don John of Austria had won Lepanto, and
Napoleon was commander-in-chief of the army of Italy. At twenty-eight
Æschylus was the peer of Greek tragedy, at twenty-nine Maurice of Saxony
the greatest statesman of the age, and at thirty Frederick the Great was
the most conspicuous character of his day. At the same age Richelieu was
Secretary of State, and Cortez little older when he gazed on the "golden
Cupolas" of Mexico. These are a few of the splendid names that illumine
the pages of history across the sea.
But the young man has been no less potent in the affairs of our own
Nation, which has always been conspicuous for its production of truly
great men. The story is told that when one of England's great men was
visiting Henry Clay, and the two were riding over the country, the
distinguished guest inquired of his host, "What do you raise on these
hills and in these beautiful valleys?" "Men," was Clay's reply; and the
English patriot declared that this was the greatest crop to enrich a
country. We boast that we have given the world a full quota of really
great young men, some of them like Jason embarking on the sea of adventure
while the dew of extreme youth is still on their brow. If we wend our way
back through the grand procession of events of but a single century we
will find extreme youth marking out the lines of progress and directing
the course of the nation in politics, in literature and religion.
We would see William Prescott, a boy of twelve, diligently at work in the
Boston Athenaeum, or Jonathan Edwards at thirteen entering Yale College,
and while yet of a tender age shining in the horizon of American
literature; while the same age finds H. W. Longfellow writing for the
Portland _Gazette_. At fourteen John Quincy Adams was private secretary to
Francis H. Dana, American Minister to Russia; at fifteen Benjamin Franklin
was writing for the _New England Courant_, and at an early age became a
noted journalist. Benjamin West at sixteen had painted "The Death of
Socrates," at seventeen George Bancroft had won a degree in history,
Washington Irving had gained distinction as a writer. At eighteen
Alexander Hamilton was famous as an orator, and one year later became a
lieutenant-colonel under Washington. At nineteen Washington himself was a
major, Nathan Hale had distinguished himself in the Revolution, Bryant had
written "Thanatopsis," and Bayard Taylor was engaged in writing his first
book, "Views Afoot." At twenty Richard Henry Stoddard had found a place in
the leading periodicals of his day, John Jacob Astor was in business in
New York, and Jay Gould was president and general manager of a railroad.
At twenty-one Edward Everett was professor of Greek Literature at Harvard,
and James Russell Lowell had published a whole volume of his poems; at
twenty-two Charles Sumner had attracted the attention of some of the
famous men of his day, William H. Seward had entered upon a brilliant
political career, while Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry D. Thoreau occupied
a conspicuous place in literature. At twenty-three James Monroe was a
member of the Executive Council, and one year later was elected to
Congress; at twenty-four Thomas A. Edison and Richard Jordan Gatling were
inventors. At twenty-five John C. Calhoun made the famous speech that gave
him a seat in the Legislature, George William Curtis had traversed Italy,
Germany, and the Orient and soon after became known by his books of
travel. At twenty-six Thomas Jefferson occupied a seat in the House of
Burgesses, John Quincy Adams was minister to The Hague; at twenty-seven
Patrick Henry was known as the "Orator of Nature," and Robert Y. Hayne was
speaker in the Legislature of South Carolina. At twenty-eight Edward
Everett Hale had found a place in the hearts and minds of the people, and
at twenty-nine John Jay, youngest member of the Continental Congress, was
chosen to draw up the address to the British Nation.
These illustrious ones, who before their thirtieth year had written their
names on the immortal banner of their country, are only a few which adorn
the pages of our early history. Others of like purport might be added
indefinitely both from the early and the later life of our country. And
there has been no time when the young man played so important a rôle in
human affairs as he does to-day in the dawn of the twentieth century,
when the heart and the mind, philanthropy and literature, virtue and
truth, science and art, capital and labor are the principal factors in the
world's progress. To refer to but a single instance in this period of our
national life, there is no greater statesman and patriot than our beloved
President, Theodore Roosevelt,--a young man to whom we are proud to point
as a true type of American greatness and American manhood. Assuming
control of the Nation at such a critical moment in her history, when so
many dangerous rocks lay in her course, tremendous, indeed, was the
responsibility thrust upon him. But by his inherent principle of rule, his
unquenchable patriotism, his indomitable purpose, and the imperiousness of
his will, founded on a rich scholarship and a broad policy, he has spelled
triumph out of difficulty, and his name will go down in twentieth-century
history an example of illustrious young manhood.
The young man is emphatically the _ruling element_ in politics to-day. It
is estimated that a sufficient number of young men come of age every four
years to control the issue of the Presidential election. Constituting
about one-half of the present voting population, they hold far more than
the balance of political power. It was Goethe who said that the destiny of
any nation at any given time depends on the opinions of the young men who
are under twenty-five years of age. And William E. Gladstone affirmed that
the sum of the characters of this element constitute the character and
strength of any country.
And when we consider the young man in his relation to all the aspects of
life--civic, commercial, industrial, and social--we must recognize him as
the _ruling element_. Like Jason, the young man of to-day is the hero to
invade the empire of thought and action in quest of the Fleece of Gold.
"Lives of great men all remind us,
We can make our lives sublime;
And departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time."
II
The Golden Quality
"They Passed Through."
To live content with small means:
To seek elegance rather than luxury, and
Refinement rather than fashion;
To be worthy, not respectable,
Wealthy, not rich;
To study hard, think quietly,
Talk gently, act frankly;
To listen to stars and birds, to
Babes and sages, with open heart;
To bear all cheerfully, do all bravely,
Await occasions, hurry never,--
In a word, to let the spiritual,
Unbidden and unconscious,
Grow up through the common--
This is to be my symphony.
--Channing.
Success
In every land and in every age since the curtain first rose on the world's
great drama men have been in quest of the Fleece of Gold. The onward
progress of the race since our rude forefathers from the leaves of the
tree formed their clothes, and in the somber depths of the primeval forest
constructed their habitation, is due to an insatiable desire to possess
the coveted prize. Hanging before man's gaze in the consecrated borders of
his existence, it has inspired him to greater usefulness. He has built
ships and traversed the seas, invented machines, reared cities, and
established laws. In science and art and literature he has vied with his
fellow-man and given a mighty impulse to civilization, all for the Fleece
of Gold--success.
The world worships at the shrine of success. It regards it as man's
greatest attribute. And whether we find it in secular affairs,
substantiated by material grandeur, or in the mysterious realms of the
inner life characterized by the serene consciousness of truth, it must
ever be the goal of human aspiration.
It is the thought of some day having their efforts crowned that causes men
hotly to pursue the phantom or the reality of their lives. This aspiration
keeps the torch of hope ablaze in the midnight darkness, and the spirits
buoyed under the noon-day glare, while men forge on to the goal. The
surging throngs of a great city, the active hands and brains in the
bee-hives of industry and the many places of business, the vast army of
seekers after knowledge in the schools and colleges throughout the land,
the men of fame in the halls of Congress molding the affairs of the
Nation, the countless army tilling the fields under the open sky, the
legions in the dark caves of earth searching for treasure--all are seeking
to enter the golden gate of success.
Said Mr. A. B. Farquhar in a baccalaureate address to the students of
McDonough College: "Success colors everything. It is the essence of all
excellencies, the latent power which compels the favor of fortune and
subjugates fate. The world worships success regardless of how acquired;
makes it a standard for judging men, an indispensable credential for all
approval. If a man succeeds he is held to be wise, even though mediocre;
if he fails, whatever his learning and intrinsic merit, little regard is
paid to him. Success gilds and glorifies a multitude of blunders and
littlenesses, and people are thought merely to exist who do not keep
themselves on the road leading to it. In view of all this, it is no wonder
that we see all humanity looking earnestly toward success and moving with
eager step in search of it.
"Success is essentially the accomplishment of one's desires and purposes,
the realization of one's ideals. But this definition does not necessarily
imply a high state of being. As I sit by my window writing, the hoarse
cry of a rag-man and the mournful strains of a hand-organ come to my ears.
That able-bodied Greek, who is so lavish with his 'music,' and the
rag-man, who is buying what the other is distributing freely, both are in
quest of the same thing--'success.'"
Alas! the world too often measures success by false standards--worships
the Golden Fleece, forgetting the high purpose it might be made to serve;
so dazzled by means that ends become oblivious. The spirit of the age is
to pay homage to great riches. The finely attired custodian of a money bag
too often is regarded as an exponent of success. On this point we should
guard ourselves, first ascertaining if the gorgeous equipage is the
"genuine fleece," or only a sham intended to deceive. A mansion on a
valuable corner lot does not constitute the "golden quality," nor does a
million dollars in bank epitomize its character. Its language is not
spoken in the dialect of Wall Street or of wheat pits. Gold, grain,
stocks, and bonds and estates too often mean the perversion of those
qualities most valuable to human life. Realty is not the prime issue of
life, but _reality_. If that which a man gets in his pay envelope, however
lucrative that may be, constituted his only reward, his effort would be
miserably compensated.
The man who has spent his life like a scaraboid beetle rolling up money,
without due regard for the common virtues of life, has not left
"footprints on the sands of time," but only a zigzag trail along the
highway over which he has journeyed. He has not achieved success in that
he has accumulated riches without a corresponding accumulation of
"wealth." To seek a purely selfish and material success is to defeat the
very purpose of one's existence--"life, liberty, and the pursuit of
happiness." In the very conquest for this baser type a man blights his
sensibilities, minifies his present enjoyment, and destroys his prospect
for a full measure of happiness by and by. With but one interest his
happiness is insecure; for when that fails or ceases to satisfy he has
nothing on which to rely. Midas craves for gold, and when he gets it his
senses become as metallic as the object of his affection. Therefore, if we
are of this type, simply seeking the Golden Fleece for what it will net us
in dollars and cents, we are not on the road leading to success. For
success does not consist in the acquisition of the material, so much as in
a mental discipline that seeks objectively to subordinate intrinsic value.