The Art of Manliness - Manvotionals: Timeless Wisdom and Advice on Living the 7 Manly Virtues (35 page)

Hrothgar answered and said, “Thou hast come as a defence to my land, Beowulf. I am filled with sorrow and shame. Grendel has robbed me of my warriors, and no one dare any more tarry in Heorot after the light of the sun departs. Thou art welcome, since thou hast come to meet the destroyer. Sit down on the benches of the hall, and join in our feasting before thou goest to encounter the enemy.”

A bench was cleared in the hall for Beowulf and for his companions, and they sat down and drank the bright ale which was poured out for them from the flagon. A bard raised his voice and sang with a clear voice, and all the warriors rejoiced together, and there was great gladness throughout the hall.

But Hunferth, the son of Ecglaf, who sat at the feet of King Hrothgar, was displeased. He was grieved that any hero should come to the land boasting that he could do what no one among the Danes could do. He said scornfully to Beowulf—

“Tell me, art thou the Beowulf whom Breca overcame in a swimming match? I heard the tale. You both ventured out like foolish men among the waves in the days of winter. For seven nights you swam together, but Breca was the stronger. Thou wilt have a worse defeat shouldst thou venture to meet Grendel in the darkness of the night.”

Beowulf answered and said, “Hunferth, my friend, thou hast drunken too much beer. Breca never overcame me in swimming, nor did any one. But if thou wouldst hear the tale, thou shalt have it. Breca and I were boys at the time, and we swam out on the wintry sea with naked swords in our hands to defend ourselves against the sea monsters. For five nights we were together upon the waves, and he could not pass me. The cold north wind blew, and there came a great storm upon the sea, and we were parted. In the darkness there came up from the bottom of the sea one of the monsters that dwell there, and it seized me and dragged me down into the deep waters. The coat of mail which I wore protected me, and I stabbed the wretch with my sword. But a great multitude of other sea monsters set upon me while I was at the bottom of the sea. I stabbed them all with my sword. When it became morning, and the sun rose, they were all washed ashore by the waves, and lay dead upon the sands. My sword had put them to sleep. Never afterwards did they hinder the sailors on their course. Afterwards I continued my journey although I was wearied, and at length the waves cast me upon the land of the Finns. I never heard that thou didst deeds such as these, Hunferth, nor Breca either. Thou didst slay thy own brothers, I know, for which thou shalt suffer the vengeance of Heaven. Hadst thou been such a hero as thou vauntest thyself, Grendel would not have laid waste the hall of thy Lord. But I, a Geat, will soon show what a brave man can do, and all men will sit down cheerfully to the mead-benches in this hall when they hear that Grendel is dead.”

In the morning … it was told to Hrothgar what had taken place, and he went into the hall. He lifted up his eyes towards the high golden roof, and behold, as a trophy of the fight, there hung the arm of Grendel.

The King was glad, and he said to Beowulf, “Thou hast done a deed which all the might and wisdom of man was not able to accomplish. The mother who bore thee may well be proud of thee, Beowulf. Best of men, I love thee as my son. Ask what thou wilt of me, and I will give it. There is nothing I am not willing to give thee.”

Beowulf replied, “Willingly have I served thee in this matter, O King. Would that I had been able to hinder Grendel from going away! But the wretch will not live much longer. Pain will hold him in its deadly grasp until he dies in his den. It is the doom which the pure Creator has appointed for him on account of his crimes.”

All looked with wonder upon the hand of Grendel aloft upon the roof. The nails on the fingers were hard as steel. Hunferth, the son of Ecglaf, was silent as he gazed on that hand.

F
ROM
W
E
W
HO ARE
A
LIVE AND
R
EMAIN:
U
NTOLD
S
TORIES
F
ROM THE
B
AND OF
B
ROTHERS
, 2009
By Marcus Brotherton

Today I often speak to students in schools. The number-one question I get asked is, “Did you kill anyone?” My answer is, “Yes, it was war, and I know I did. But there’s more to the story that you need to know.”

Were we heroes? There’s no such thing as a live hero. Damn good soldiers, yes, but heroes, no. You do your job and everybody does it with you.

Our heroes are over there where the white crosses are. We’re survivors over here. None of us are heroes. I don’t think you’ll talk to a man who says we are. You figure a hero is someone who does above and beyond the call of duty, and when you give your life that’s as above and beyond as you can get.

People come up to you and say you’re a hero. I can’t claim to that. “I was just an ordinary soldier with a bunch of good guys.” That’s all I can say about that.

Being a hero? I don’t even care for the word. I’m an individual that had a job to do. I don’t feel that I’m any kind of hero. I’m just an ordinary guy like I’m supposed to be. To me, the work had to be done. I was asked to do it. So I did. When I lecture kids I tell them the same thing: don’t brag that you’re anything more than you are.

When I was a teenager I took freedom for granted until I got through the army and saw what the Nazis had done in Germany. Then I realized that freedom isn’t automatic; it has a price.

World War II was a justified and necessary war. Last year I met five survivors of Auschwitz concentration camp. The things that happened to those people should never have happened to any human being.

Do I think my actions in the war were heroic? No, I don’t. I’m even uncomfortable with the word. I was part of a generation of young men who did what had to be done.

F
ROM
H
ÁVAMÁL
Translated by W.H. Auden and P.B. Taylor

H
ONOR:
A
N
A
DDRESS TO THE
C
ADETS OF
N
ORWICH
U
NIVERSITY
,
AT
N
ORTHFIELD
, V
ERMONT ON THE
C
OMMENCEMENT
D
AY
, J
ULY
13, 1871
By Malcolm Douglass

I do not use the word Honor here in its very common sense of high reputation, or power; for men are sometimes
honored
by their fellow men, for their riches, or success, or station, or influence, who know very little of what true honor is. I do not mean that honor which one lad may obtain amongst his fellows by his superior strength, or his talents, his memory, his wit, his symmetry, or his agility. He may obtain a
kind
of honor for these things, and yet be a mean-spirited fellow after all. These accomplishments and gifts I have no fault to find with; they are good and most desirable in themselves; they are not to be despised if they are not obtained by unworthy means, and employed upon unworthy objects They may justly procure approbation for their possessor; they may often worthily attract the admiration of others; they may excite remark and criticism; they may call forth sentiments of esteem and respect from the generous, and of envy from the base. Nevertheless, the honorable notice which they bring does not necessarily secure their possessor from a great lack of true nobility of spirit. We sometimes find both gifts and a noble spirit in the same person, but the presence of the one does not guaranty the presence of the other.

This Honor, then, the honor of circumstance, of position, of power, is not that of which I would now speak. There is another species of honor, within reach of all—a higher grade; the honor of self-respect; the inner spirit and soul of honor; the honor of
thinking
good and noble thoughts; the honor of
acting
upon just, wise, and healthy principles; the honor of
living
amongst your fellows with kind and just and true and reverent regards and sympathies. The honor which frees you from meanness, vulgarity, baseness, and ignoble conceits and plans.
This
is the honor which I would now and always commend to you. It is not always popular. I do not care, or wish you to care, whether it is popular or not. I would present it for
its own
sake, and in its own simple and severe majesty. … this honor of which I speak, and which I commend, may be sought for and gained by every one of you. This
spirit
of honor, this
self-respect
, which aims to secure, not so much the approbation of others—though it
will
secure it in a measure—as the respect and approbation of your own better nature, your own true, honest, unprejudiced,
self
.

Having said thus much, let me remind you of some of the prominent
characteristics
of this Honor.

The first characteristic which I would mention is Truth. By this I would be understood to mean both the sentiment of Truth, implanted in your nature and growing with your growth, and also its outward demonstrations; as truth of purpose, which you call Ingenuousness—truth of action, which you call Honesty—truth of speech, which you call Veracity—truth of manners, which you call Candor—truth of life, which you call Integrity—truth of principle, which you call Uprightness.

Be true then to your word; be true to your promises; be true to your instructors; be true to your fellow students; be true to
yourselves;
and be true to your God.

There is another important characteristic of true Honor, which I would next place before you. It is Fidelity. Fidelity to the trusts committed to you. I ask you to notice that old English word, Trust-worthy, i.e. worthy of confidence. It is used to point out anyone who can be depended upon to keep that securely which has been committed to him, or to discharge to the best of his ability
that
which it is his
duty
to do. Fidelity is the
soul
of trustworthiness. It is loyalty to that position in which God has placed you, and to the various trusts which are committed to you. It is a most noble characteristic.