Read Roger Lancelyn Green with your Children

An Excerpt on Virtue and Vice

There is woefully little children’s literature being published today that is worth your time. Fortunately for us there are many great classic works of children’s literature. I have praised G. A. Henty in the past, but today I want to highlight Roger Lancelyn Green. An inkling and good friend of C. S. Lewis, Green made his mark most notably in the retelling of tales worth telling again. He wrote his own version of Robin Hood, as well as of stories King Arthur and his knights of the round table, Tales of the Norseman, Tales of Ancient Egypt, Tales of the Greek Heroes, and more. He has an engaging style, he is faithful to the old stories in his retelling, and he uses them to draw young reader’s interest toward the classics. One of my favorite sections from the body of his work comes from Tales of the Greek Heroes and I want to share it with you today. I think you’ll instantly see the value of reading R. L. Green with your children. Enjoy!

While Heracles was guarding the cattle of Amphitryon on the lonely slopes of Mount Cithaeron, and still ignorant of his high destiny, a strange thing befell him. As he sat alone on the hillside one day, wondering if he was fated to be a cow-herd all his life, or whether it would not be better to become a wild robber of the mountains, he saw two lovely maidens coming towards him. One of them was dressed in simply white, and had modest, down-cast eyes and a calm, gentle face from which seemed to shine both goodness and wisdom; but the other wore bright colours, and came striding along glancing glancing boldly about her – now admiring herself, and now looking to others for admiration. She was decked with rich jewels, and her face was artfully touched with powder.

As they drew near to Heracles, the second, as if anxious to forestall her companion, pushed eagerly ahead and spoke to him: ‘Dear Heracles,’ she said, ‘I see that you have reached the age when you must choose what kind of life yours is to be. So I have come to urge you to take me as your friend and let me guide you on your way. I promise that if you do I will lead you by the easiest and most delightful paths. You shall taste every pleasure, and no troubles of toils shall come near you. Your life shall be passed in the pursuit and enjoyment of pleasant things, with no labour, of body or mind, except to please yourself without any thought for the cares of others.’ She paused, and Heracles asked: ‘Lady, tell me your name.” Then she answered softly: ‘Heracles, those who love me call me Happiness, but my enemies, it is true, have another name which I do not care to mention.’

Meanwhile the modest maiden had come up, and now she spoke: ‘I too, noble Heracles, am come to offer you a way of life. I know of what a worthy line you come, that you are descended from Perseus the Gorgon-slayer, and are yourself the son of Zeus. I know how well you have learnt all the accomplishments necessary for the path which I trust that you will take, in my company. Follow me, and you will do great deeds and leave a name which will never be forgotten. But you cannot win what is glorious and excellent in the world without care and labour: the gods give no real good, no true happiness to men on earth on any other terms. If you would bring happiness to others and be remembered in Greece, you must strive for the service of Greece – as you well may with your strength and your skill, if you do but use them rightly. As for my companion, who is called Vice and Folly and other such names, do not be misled by her: there is no pleasure and no happiness like those which you earn by strife and labour and with the sweat of your brow.’

‘Do not believe this foolish girl, who is called Virtue!’ interrupted Vice hastily. ‘My way is short and pleasant; hers is hard, and long, and the end is doubtful.’ 

‘Come, Heracles,’ said Virtue quietly, ‘choose which of us you will follow. Her path leads through easy, worthless pleasures that grow stale and horrible and yet are craved after more and more. But follow me through toil and suffering to the great heritage which Zeus has planned for you.’

‘Lady!’ cried Heracles, ‘I choose your path! Tell me how to set my foot on it, and I will not turn back however hard it prove, and whatever I have to endure on the way.’

‘You have chosen worthily,’ she said in her calm, gentle voice. ‘And for the beginning – look yonder! What is it that disturbs your cattle so?’

Heracles looked across the valley, and saw a great yellow lion leaping down the slope with open jaws towards the cows, who fled this way and that, lowing piteously in terror. With a shout of fury Heracles sprang to his feet and went charging down the valley and up the other side. But by the time he got there, the lion had gone, and one of the cows lay dead. ‘I’ll kill that lion, or perish in the attempt!’ cried Heracles angrily, and he turned back towards the two maidens – but there was no one to be seen.¹

After I posted the above I ended up writing an Encomium for R. L. Green. If you’d like to read a bit more.

1.  Roger Lancelyn Green, Alan Langford, and Rick Riordan, Tales of the Greek Heroes (London: Puffin, 2015), 116-118.