atory to an act of
will which will settle the problem. "He rose and went to the wood near
by; he crept under two bushes that grew from the same place, one the
wild and the other the tame olive." There in a heap of leaves--man's
first bed--he slept under the intertwined branches of the two
olives--nature's shelter against wind, rain, sun. He, with all his
cultivation is quite reduced to the condition of the primitive man.

One cannot help feeling a symbolic intention in these two olive trees,
one wild and one cultivated. They represent in a degree the two phases
of the man sleeping under them; they hint also the transition which he
is making from the untamed nature of Calypso's island to the more
civilized land of Phaeacia. The whole Book is indeed the movement to a
new life and a new country. We might carry out the symbolic hint much
further on these lines, and see a meaning in their interwoven branches
and the protection they are giving at present; but the poetic
suggestion flashing afar over poem backwards and forwards is the true
effect, and may be dimmed by too much explanation.

Such is this marvelous storm with its ship-wreck, probably the first in
literature, but often made use of since. The outer surges of the
tempest are indeed terrific; but the main interest is, that along with
this external description of the storm, we witness the corresponding
internal heaving and tossing of a human soul. Everywhere we notice that
Ulysses doubts at first, doubts Calypso, doubts Ino, doubts even his
final safety when on land. He is the skeptical man, he never fails to
call up the possibilities on the other side. Though a God give the
promise, he knows that there are other Gods who do not promise, or may
give a different promise to somebody else. It is the experience of
life, this touch of doubt at first; it always accompanies the thinking
man, who, like Ulysses, must be aware of a negative counterpart even to
truth. Not pleasant, but painful is this doubt shooting through the
soul, and keeping it in distress and often in lamentation. So even the
Hero breaks out into unmanly complaint, and reveals to the full his
finite nature.

Yet if Ulysses doubts, he always overcomes his doubt in the end; he
sees the positive element in the world to be deeper than the negative
one, after a little access of weakness. Under his doubt is the deeper
layer of faith, so he never gives up, but valiantly holds on and
conquers. The Gods come to