There was a city in a certain region. In a grove near by, a merchant was
having a temple built. Each day at the noon hour the foreman and workers
would go to the city for lunch.
Now one day a troop of monkeys came upon the half-built temple. There
lay a tremendous anjana log, which a mechanic had begun to split, a wedge
of acacia-wood being thrust in at the top.
There the monkeys began their playful frolics upon tree-top, lofty roof,
and woodpile. Then one of them, whose doom was near, thoughtlessly
bestrode the log, thinking: “Who stuck a wedge in this queer place?” So he
seized it with both hands and started to work it loose. Now what happened
when the wedge gave at the spot where his private parts entered the cleft,
that, sir, you know without being told.
“And that is why I say that meddling should be avoided by the
intelligent. And you know,” he continued, “that we two pick up a fair living
just from his leavings.”
“But,” said Victor, “how can you give first-rate service merely from a
desire for food with no desire for distinction? There is wisdom in the
saying:
In hurting foes and helping friends
The wise perceive the proper ends
Of serving kings. The belly’s call
To answer, is no job at all.
And again:
When many lives on one depend,
Then life is life indeed:
A crow, with beak equipped, can fill
His belly’s selfish need.
If loving kindness be not shown
To friends and souls in pain,
To teachers, servants, and one’s self,
What use in life, what gain?
A crow will live for many years
And eat the offered grain.
A dog is quite contented if
He gets a meatless bone,
A dirty thing with gristle-strings
And marrow-fat alone—
And not enough of it at that
To still his belly’s moan.
The lion scorns the jackal, though
Between his paws, to smite
The elephant. For everyone,
However sad his plight,
Demands the recompense that he
Esteems his native right.
Dogs wag their tails and fawn and roll,
Bare mouth and belly, at your feet:
Bull-elephants show self-esteem,
Demand much coaxing ere they eat.
A tiny rill
Is quick to fill,
And quick a mouse’s paws;
So seedy men
Are grateful, when
There is but little cause.
For if there be no mind
Debating good and ill,
And if religion send
No challenge to the will,
If only greed be there
For some material feast,
How draw a line between
The man-beast and the beast?
Or more accurately yet:
Since cattle draw the plow
Through rough and level soil,
And bend their patient necks
To heavy wagons’ toil,
Are kind, of sinless birth,
And find in grass a feast,
How can they be compared
With any human beast?”
“But at present,” said Cheek, “we two hold no job at court. So why
meddle?” “My dear fellow,” said Victor, “after a little the jobless man does
hold a job. As the saying goes:
The jobless man is hired
For careful serving;
The holder may be fired,
If undeserving.
No character moves up or down
At others’ smile or others’ frown;
But honor or contempt on earth
Will follow conduct’s inner worth.
And once more:
It costs an effort still
To carry stones uphill;
They tumble in a trice:
So virtue, and so vice.”
“Well,” said Cheek, “what do you wish to imply?” And Victor answered:
“You see, our master is frightened, his servants are frightened, and he does
not know what to do.” “How can you be sure of that?” asked Cheek, and
Victor said: “Isn’t it plain?
An ox can understand, of course,
The spoken word; a driven horse
Or elephant, exerts his force;
But men of wisdom can infer
Unuttered thought from features’ stir—
For wit rewards its worshiper.
And again:
From feature, gesture, gait,
From twitch, or word,
From change in eye or face
Is thought inferred.
So by virtue of native intelligence I intend to get him into my power this
very day.”
“Why,” said Cheek, “you do not know how to make yourself useful to a
superior. So tell me. How can you establish power over him?”
“And why, my good fellow, do I not know how to make myself useful?”
said Victor. “The saintly poet Vyasa has sung the entry of the Pandu princes
into Virata’s court. From his poem I learned the whole duty of a
functionary. You have heard the proverb:
No burden enervates the strong;
To enterprise no road is long;
The well-informed all countries range;
To flatterers no man is strange.”
But Cheek objected: “He might perhaps despise you for forcing yourself
into a position that does not belong to you.” “Yes,” said Victor, “there is
point in that. However, I am also a judge of occasions. And there are rules,
as follows:
The Lord of Learning, speaking to
A false occasion,
Will meet with hatred, and of course
Lack all persuasion.
And again:
The favorite’s business comes to be
A sudden source of king’s ennui,
When he is thoughtful, trying scents,
Retiring, or in conference.
And once again:
On hours of talk or squabbling rude,
Of physic, barber, flirting, food,
A gentleman does not intrude.
Let everyone be cautious
In palaces of kings;
And let not students rummage
In their professor’s things:
For naughty meddlers suffer
Destruction swift and sure,
Like evening candles, lighted
In houses of the poor.
Or put it this way:
On entering a palace,
Adjust a modest dress;
Go slowly, bowing lowly
In timely humbleness;
And sound the kingly temper,
And kingly whims no less.
Or this way:
Though ignorant and common,
Unworth the honoring,
Men win to royal favor
By standing near the king:
For kings and vines and maidens
To nearest neighbors cling.
And once again:
The servant in his master’s face
Discerns the signs of wrath and grace,
And though the master jerk and tack,
The servant slowly mounts his back.
And finally:
The brave, the learnѐd, he who wins
To bureaucratic power—
These three, alone of all mankind,
Can pluck earth’s golden flower.
“Now let me inform you how power is gained by dancing attendance on a
master.
Win the friendly counselors,
To the monarch dear,
Win persuasive speakers; so
Gain the royal ear.
On the undiscerning mob
‘Tis not wise to toil:
No man reaps a harvest by
Plowing barren soil.
Serve a king of merit, though
Friendless, destitute;
After some delay, you pluck
Long-enduring fruit.
Hate your master, and you fill
Servant’s meanest state:
Not discerning whom to serve,
‘Tis yourself you hate.
Treat the dowager, the queen,
And the king-to-be,
Chaplain, porter, counselor,
Most obsequiously.
One who seeks the van in fights,
In the palace clings,
In the city walks behind,
Is beloved of kings.
One who flatters when addressed,
Does the proper things,
Acts without expressing doubts,
Is beloved of kings.
One, the royal gifts of cash
Prudently who flings,
Wearing gifts of garments, he
Is beloved of kings.
One who never makes reply
That his master stings,
Never boisterously laughs,
Is beloved of kings.
One who never hearkens to
Queenly whisperings,
In the women’s quarters dumb,
Is beloved of kings.
One who, even in distress,
Never boasts and sings
Of his master’s favor, he
Is beloved of kings.
One who hates his master’s foe,
Loves his friend, and brings
Pain or joy to either one,
Is beloved of kings.
One who never disagrees,
Blames, or pulls the strings
Of intrigue with enemies,
Is beloved of kings.
One who finds in battle, peace
Free from questionings,
Thinks of exile as of home,
Is beloved of kings.
One who thinks of dice as death,
Wine as poison-stings,
Others’ wives as statues, he
Is beloved of kings.”
“Well,” said Cheek, “when you come into his presence, what do you
intend to say first? Please tell me that.” And Victor replied:
“Answers, after speech begins,
Further answers breed,
As a seed, with timely rain,
Ripens other seed.
And besides:
A clever servant shows his master
The gleam of triumph or disaster
From good or evil courses springing,
And shows him wit, decision-bringing.
The man possessing such a wit
Should magnify and foster it;
Thereby he earns a livelihood
And public honor from the good.
And there is a saying:
Let anyone who does not seek
His master’s fall, unbidden speak;
So act at least the excellent:
The other kind are different.”
“But,” said Cheek, “kings are hard to conciliate. There is a saying:
In sensuous coil
And heartless toil,
In sinuous course
And armored force,
In savage harms
That yield to charms—
In all these things
Are snakes like kings.
Uneven, rough,
And high enough—
Yet low folk roam
Their flanks as home,
And wild things haunt
Them, hungry, gaunt—
In all these things
Are hills like kings.
The things that claw, and the things that gore
Are unreliable things;
And so is a man with a sword in his hand,
And rivers, and women, and kings.”
“Quite true,” said Victor. “However:
The clever man soon penetrates
The subject’s mind, and captivates.
Cringe, and flatter him when angry;
Love his friend and hate his foe;
Duly advertise his presents—
Trust no magic—win him so.
And yet:
If a man excel in action
Learning, fluent word,
Make yourself his humble servant
While his power is stirred,
Quick to leave him at the moment
When he grows absurd.
Plant your words where profit lies:
Whiter cloth takes faster dyes.
Till you know his power and manhood,
Effort has no scope:
Moonlight’s glitter vainly rivals
Himalaya’s slope.”
And Cheek replied: “If you have made up your mind, then seek the feet
of the king. Blest be your journeyings. May your purpose be accomplished.
Be heedful in the presence of the king;
We also to your health and fortune cling.”
Then Victor bowed to his friend, and went to meet Rusty.
Now when Rusty saw Victor approaching, he said to the doorkeeper:
“Away with your reed of office! This is an old acquaintance, the counselor’s
son Victor. He has free entrance. Let him come in. He belongs to the second
circle.” So Victor entered, bowed to Rusty, and sat down on the seat
indicated to him.
Then Rusty extended a right paw adorned with claws as formidable as
thunderbolts, and said respectfully: “Do you enjoy health? Why has so long
a time passed since you were last visible?” And Victor replied: “Even
though my royal master has no present need of me, still I ought to report at
the proper time. For there is nothing that may not render service to a king.
As the saying goes:
To clean a tooth or scratch an ear
A straw may serve a king:
A man, with speech and action, is
A higher kind of thing.
“Besides, we who are ancestral servants of our royal master, follow him
even in disasters. For us there is no other course. Now the proverb says:
Set in fit position each
Gem or serving-man;
No tiaras on the toes,
Just because you can.
Servants leave the kings who their
Qualities ignore,
Even kings of lofty line,
Wealthy, served of yore.
Lacking honor from their equals
Jobless, déclassé,
Servants give their master notice
That they will not stay.
And again:
If set in tin, a gem that would
Adorn a golden frame,
Will never scream nor fail to gleam
Yet tells its wearer’s shame.
The king who reads a servant’s mind—
Dull, faithless, faithful, wise—
May servants find of every kind
For every enterprise.
“And as for my master’s remark: ‘It is long since you were last visible,’
pray hear the reason of that:
Where just distinction is not drawn
Between the left and right,
The self-respecting, if they can,
Will quickly take to flight.
If masters no distinction make
Among their servants, then
They lose the zealous offices
Of energetic men.
And in a market where it seems
That no distinctions hold
Between red-eye and ruby, how
Can precious gems be sold?
There must be bonds of union
In all their dealings, since
No prince can lack his servants
Nor servants lack a prince.
“Yet the nature of the servant also depends on the master’s quality. As the
saying goes:
In case of horse or book or sword,
Of woman, man or lute or word,
The use or uselessness depends
On qualities the user lends.
“And another point. You do wrong to despise me because I am a jackal.
For
Silk comes from worms, and gold from stone;
From cow’s hair sacred grass is grown;
The water-lily springs from mud;
From cow-dung sprouts the lotus-bud;
The moon its rise from ocean takes;
And gems proceed from hoods of snakes;
From cows’ bile yellow dyestuffs come;
And fire in wood is quite at home:
The worthy, by display of worth,
Attain distinction, not by birth.
And again:
Kill, although domestic born,
Any hurtful mouse:
Bribe an alien cat who will
Help to clean the house.
And once again:
How use the faithful, lacking power?
Or strong, who evil do?
But me, O King, you should not scorn,
For I am strong and true.
Scorn not the wise who penetrate
Truth’s universal law;
They are not men to be restrained
By money’s petty straw:
When beauty glistens on their cheeks
By trickling ichor lent,
Bull-elephants feel lotus-chains
As no impediment.”
“Oh,” said Rusty, “you must not say such things. You are our counselor’s
son, an old retainer.” “O King,” said Victor, “there is something that should
be said.” And the king replied: “My good fellow, reveal what is in your
heart.”
Then Victor began: “My master set out to take water. Why did he turn
back and camp here?” And Rusty, concealing his inner feelings, said:
“Victor, it just happened so.” “O King,” said the jackal, “if it is not a thing
to disclose, then let it be.
Some things a man should tell his wife,
Some things to friend and some to son;
All these are trusted. He should not
Tell everything to everyone.”
Hereupon Rusty reflected: “He seems trustworthy. I will tell him what I
have in mind. For the proverb says:
You find repose, in sore disaster,
By telling things to powerful master,
To honest servant, faithful friend,
Or wife who loves you till the end.
Friend Victor, did you hear a great voice in the distance?” “Yes, master, I
did,” said Victor. “What of it?”
And Rusty continued: “My good fellow, I intend to leave this forest.”
“Why?” said Victor. “Because,” said Rusty, “there has come into our forest
some prodigious creature, from whom we hear this great voice. His nature
must correspond to his voice, and his power to his nature.”
“What!” said Victor. “Is our master frightened by a mere voice? You
know the proverb:
Water undermines the dikes;
Love dissolves when malice strikes;
Secrets melt when babblings start;
Simple words melt dastard hearts.
So it would be improper if our master abruptly left the forest which was
won by his ancestors and has been so long in the family. For they say:
Wisely move one foot; the other
Should its vantage hold;
Till assured of some new dwelling,
Do not leave the old.
“Besides, many kinds of sounds are heard here. Yet they are nothing but
noises, not a warning of danger. For example, we hear the sounds made by
thunder, wind among the reeds, lutes, drums, tambourines, conch-shells,
bells, wagons, banging doors, machines, and other things. They are nothing
to be afraid of. As the verse says:
If a king be brave, however
Fierce the foe and grim,
Sorrows of humiliation
Do not wait for him.
And again:
Bravest bosoms do not falter,
Fearing heaven’s threat:
Summer dries the pools; the Indus
Rises, greater yet.
And once again:
Mothers bear on rare occasions
To the world a chief,
Glad in luck and brave in battle,
Undepressed in grief.
And yet again:
Do not act as does the grass-blade,
Lacking honest pride,
Drooping low in feeble meanness,
Lightly brushed aside.
My master must take this point of view and reinforce his resolution, not
fear a mere sound. As the saying goes:
I thought at first that it was full
Of fat; I crept within
And there I did not find a thing
Except some wood and skin.”
“How was that?” asked Rusty. And Victor told the story of
THE JACKAL AND THE WAR-DRUM