King Matthias and the Beggar Boy

by báró Miklós Jósika

After all, as he reflected, the king was right: it was the thought of making a soldier's name for himself which had led him to run into such obvious danger. And yet he had a reason to give for what he had done—a good reason too, he had thought; for he had considered that his life belonged to the king, who had given him his career and all that made his life of any importance. And so he had resolved with himself never to trouble his head about risk and danger, when he had an opportunity of proving his fidelity to the king.

But now, as he turned over in his mind the advice which the king had given him, he began to see things a little differently.

"My life belongs to the king, it is true," thought he, "and I must be ready to sacrifice it whenever there is any reason to do so; but just because my life is the king's, I have no right to throw it away."

From that time Tornay tried to make himself more and more useful to the king, by learning all that he could of his profession.

The courage of a private was not enough—it was not what was wanted of him, now that he was an officer in command; and he felt that the courage which made a man strive to acquire the knowledge necessary to those in his own position—generals and commanders, that is to say—was courage of a higher, nobler sort than that which led to deeds of mere daring. Of course the courage of the private was also needful—quite indispensable, indeed, in every soldier, officer or not, who must always be ready to sacrifice his life if need be; but he strove to acquire besides the cool courage which does not let itself be carried away by excitement, which can listen to the sound of the trumpets and the din of battle without being intoxicated, which remains calm and collected, retains its presence of mind, and is capable of seeing and hearing, and, above all, of thinking for others, even when the issue looks most doubtful.

For a general has to remember that he is not merely an individual; he is that, of course, but he is a great deal more—he is the head of a body which depends upon him for guidance. He must not play only his own game, or be thinking only or chiefly of the bold, brave deeds he can do on his own account; he must practise the most stern self-restraint. And he must not think of gratifying his own vanity or desire of distinguishing himself; he must think of those under his command—he must be unselfish.

Hitherto, Michael's one thought when he went into battle had been the enemy, and how much damage he could do him. He had eyes for nothing else, and he was eager to give proof of his own personal valour; but now he began to accustom himself to resist this consuming thirst for action, and to restrain his longing to rush madly into the fight, for he was learning that he must not think only of himself.

When the army was drawn up in battle array, fronting the enemy and all ready for action, the young soldier would begin to ask himself what he should do if the king were presently to give orders, as he might some day, that he, Michael, was to take the chief command and lead the army to battle.

And then his blood would boil, his eyes would flash, and he felt an almost irresistible longing to dash forward and do some valiant deed. But now he controlled and recovered himself, and repeating to himself the king's words, would say, "Now, Mihály, how could you do such a thing? what reason could you give for it?"

He began to scrutinize the ranks of the enemy in a much more scientific way, reminding himself that he was not now a private, or even a subaltern officer, in the Black Legion, but a general, whose duty it was to think, not of bold ventures, but of sober plans. This gave quite another turn to his mind, and he felt how much higher and fairer a thing it was to think of others and direct others, and to keep one's presence of mind intact and one's blood cool, when youthful zeal made others lose their heads.