The Art of Manliness - Manvotionals: Timeless Wisdom and Advice on Living the 7 Manly Virtues (19 page)
Authors: Brett McKay
F
ROM
R
HYMES OF
A R
OLLING
S
TONE
, 1912
By Robert Service
When you’re lost in the Wild, and you’re scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you’re sore as a boil, it’s according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and … die.
But the Code of a Man says: “Fight all you can,”
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it’s easy to blow …
It’s the hell-served-for-breakfast that’s hard.
“You’re sick of the game!” Well, now, that’s a shame.
You’re young and you’re brave and you’re bright.
“You’ve had a raw deal!” I know—but don’t squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It’s the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don’t be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it’s so easy to quit:
It’s the keeping-your-chin-up that’s hard.
It’s easy to cry that you’re beaten—and die;
It’s easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope’s out of sight—
Why, that’s the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each grueling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try—it’s dead easy to die,
It’s the keeping-on-living that’s hard.
“And having thus chosen our course, without guile and with pure purpose, let us renew our trust in God and go forward without fear and with manly hearts.” —Abraham Lincoln
T
HE FINAL
L
ETTER OF
R
OBERT
F
ALCON
S
COTT TO
H
IS
W
IFE
F
ROM THE
S
OUTH
P
OLE
, 1912
In January of 1912, Englishman Robert Falcon Scott, along with a team of four others, began the last leg of their quest to become the first men to reach the South Pole. The hopes of these intrepid explorers were dashed when they neared their destination only to find that Roald Amundsen had gotten there before them. Incredibly dejected, the men now faced a wearisome eight-hundred-mile return journey.
The men trudged forward day after day, through the snow and ice, battling 70-degrees-below-zero temperatures and blinding blizzards. Dwindling rations and frostbite sapped the men’s strength and spirit. One of the five men, Edgar Evans, collapsed and died. Another, Lawrence “Titus” Oates, could no longer go on, but the team refused to leave him behind. Choosing to sacrifice himself to improve the other men’s chances of survival, he simply left his tent and walked away, telling the others, “I am just going outside and may be some time.” He was never seen again. Scott wrote, “We knew that poor Oates was walking to his death, but though we tried to dissuade him, we knew it was the act of a brave man and an English gentleman.”
Stuck in a blizzard with dwindling supplies, the men knew the end was nigh for them as well. No longer able to continue the march, the men hunkered down and prepared for death. Despite the bitter cold and incredible fatigue, Scott managed to write twelve letters to his family and friends, to the relatives of the other men on the team, and to his fellow countrymen. In a “Message to the Public,” Scott chalked the expedition’s failure up to unfortunate circumstances and ended by saying:
“But for my own sake I do not regret this journey, which has shown that Englishmen can endure hardships, help one another, and meet death with as great a fortitude as ever in the past. We took risks, we knew we took them; things have come out against us, and therefore we have no cause for complaint, but bow to the will of providence, determined still to do our best to the last. … Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale.”
The men died ten days later. They were found frozen in their sleeping bags. Although the explorers carried lethal doses of opium and morphine, which would have enabled them to end their suffering and take their own lives, these supplies remained untouched.
The following is the letter Scott wrote to Kathleen, his wife and the mother of their three-year-old son, Peter. She did not receive it until the doomed explorer’s body was found in 1913.
Note:
The punctuation and format of the letter has been slightly edited. Scott struggled to write the letter in subzero temperatures over the course of several days, scribbling his thoughts as best he could, filling several pages, and then writing across the backs of the paper. The letter ends abruptly and without a signature.
To My Widow
Dearest darling – We are in a very tight corner and I have doubts of pulling through – In one short lunch hour I take advantage of a very small measure of warmth to write letters preparatory to a possible end – The first is naturally to you on whom my thoughts mostly dwell waking or sleeping – If anything happens to me I shall like you to know how much you have meant to me and what pleasant recollections are with me as I depart –
I should like you to take what comfort you can from these facts also – I shall not have suffered any pain but leave the world fresh from harness & full of good health & vigour – this is decided already – when provisions come to an end we Simply stop unless we are within easy distance of another depot –Therefore you must not imagine a great tragedy – we are very anxious of course & have been for weeks but our splendid physical condition and our appetites compensate for all discomfort – The cold is trying & sometimes angering but here again the hot food which drives it forth is so wonderfully enjoyable that one would scarcely be without it.
We have gone down hill a good deal since I wrote the above – Poor Titus Oates has gone – he was in a bad state. The rest of us keep going and imagine we have a chance to get through but the cold weather doesn’t let up at all. We are now only 20 miles from a depot but we have very little food & fuel
Well dear heart I want you to take the whole thing very sensibly as I’m sure you will. The boy will be your comfort. I had looked forward to helping you to bring him up but it is a satisfaction to feel that he is safe with you. I think both he and you ought to be specially looked after by the country for which after all we have given our lives with something of spirit which makes for example – I am writing letters on this point in the end of this book after this. Will you send them to their various destinations? I must write a little letter for the boy if time can be found to be read when he grows up. The inherited vice from my side of the family is indolence – above all he must guard & you must guard him against that. Make him a strenuous man. I had to force myself into being strenuous, as you know – had always an inclination to be idle, my father was idle and it brought much trouble.
Dearest that you know I cherish no sentimental rubbish about re marriage – when the right man comes to help you in life you ought to be your happy self again – I wasn’t a very good husband but I hope I shall be a good memory – certainly the end is nothing for you to be ashamed of and I like to think that the boy will have a good start in parentage of which he may be proud.
Dear it is not easy to write because of the cold – 70 degrees below zero and nothing but the shelter of our tent – you know I have loved you, you know my thoughts must have constantly dwelt on you and oh dear me you must know that quite the worst aspect of this situation is the thought that I shall not see you again – The inevitable must be faced – you urged me to be leader of this party and I know you felt it would be dangerous – I’ve taken my place throughout, haven’t I? God bless you my own darling – I shall try and write more later – I go on across the back pages
Since writing the above we have got to within 11 miles of our depot with one hot meal and two days cold food and we should have got through but have been held for four days by a frightful storm – I think the best chance has gone. We have decided not to kill ourselves but to fight it to the last for that depot but in the fighting there is a painless end so don’t worry.
I have written letters on odd pages of this book – will you manage to get them sent? You see I am anxious for you and the boy’s future – make the boy interested in natural history if you can, it is better than games – they encourage it at some schools – I know you will keep him out in the open air – try and make him believe in a God, it is comforting.
Oh my dear my dear what dreams I have had of his future and yet oh my girl I know you will face it stoically – your portrait and the boy’s will be found in my breast and the one in the little red Morocco case given by Lady Baxter – There is a piece of the Union flag I put up at the South Pole in my private kit bag together with Amundsen’s black flag and other trifles – give a small piece of the Union flag to the King and a small piece to Queen Alexandra and keep the rest a poor trophy for you!
What lots and lots I could tell you of this journey. How much better it has been than lounging in too great comfort at home – what tales you would have for the boy but oh what a price to pay – to forfeit the sight of your dear dear face – Dear you will be good to the old mother. I write her a little line in this book. Also keep in with Ettie and the others –
oh but you’ll put on a strong face for the world
– only don’t be too proud to accept help for the boys sake – he ought to have a fine career and do something in the world. I haven’t time to write to Sir Clements – tell him I thought much of him and never regretted him putting me in command of the Discovery. – Give messages of farewell to Lady Baxter and Lady Sandhurst keep friends with them for both are dear women & to also both the Reginald Smiths
“Stand firm and immovable as an anvil when it is beaten upon.” —Saint Ignatius
F
ROM
B
ALLADS OF THE
H
EARTHSTONE
, 1901
By Henry H. Johnson
Give me the man with an iron will
And a purpose firm and strong;—
Who dares to stand by the right until
He has crushed to death the wrong;
Who treads where the path of duty leads,
Though the way be blocked by foes;—
Whose heart and hand a good cause speeds,
No matter who oppose.
Give me the man with an iron will,
Who knows no such word as fail;
Who will, if need, his heart’s blood spill
To make the
good
prevail;Who guards the right with his strong arm,
And dares to stand ’gainst might;
Who shields the poor and weak from harm,
And does right because
’tis
right.Give me the man with an iron will
And a heart as true as gold;—
Whose God-given mission he will fulfill,
Who cannot be bought nor sold.
Give me the man whom no power can bend
From a purpose grand and high;—
Whose all, for a righteous cause will spend,
For a righteous cause will die.
Prey Upon You
A L
ETTER FROM
A
BRAHAM
L
INCOLN TO
G
EORGE
L
ATHAM
, 1860
Abraham Lincoln wrote the following letter to George Latham, who was a close friend of Lincoln’s son Robert. Both young men hoped to attend Harvard. Robert passed the entrance exams; George did not. George’s father had died several years before, and Lincoln wrote to George with paternal concern and as a man who knew something about perseverance.
Springfield, Ills. July 22, 1860
My dear George
I have scarcely felt greater pain in my life than on learning yesterday from Bob’s letter, that you failed to enter Harvard University. And yet there is very little in it, if you will allow no feeling of
discouragement
to seize, and prey upon you. It is a
certain
truth, that you
can
enter, and graduate in, Harvard University; and having made the attempt, you
must
succeed in it.
“Must”
is the word.
