It is a common saying among men that to forget favours received is the
part of a bird or a beast: an ungrateful man will be ill spoken of by
all the world. And yet even birds and beasts will show gratitude; so
that a man who does not requite a favour is worse even than dumb brutes.
Is not this a disgrace?
Once upon a time, in a hut at a place called Namékata, in Hitachi, there
lived an old priest famous neither for learning nor wisdom, but bent
only on passing his days in prayer and meditation. He had not even a
child to wait upon him, but prepared his food with his own hands. Night
and morning he recited the prayer "Namu Amida Butsu,"[3] intent upon
that alone. Although the fame of his virtue did not reach far, yet his
neighbours respected and revered him, and often brought him food and
raiment; and when his roof or his walls fell out of repair, they would
mend them for him; so for the things of this world he took no thought.
One very cold night, when he little thought any one was outside, he
heard a voice calling, "Your reverence! your reverence!" So he rose and
went out to see who it was, and there he beheld an old badger standing.
Any ordinary man would have been greatly alarmed at the apparition; but
the priest, being such as he has been described above, showed no sign of
fear, but asked the creature its business. Upon this the badger
respectfully bent its knees and said:
"Hitherto, sir, my lair has been in the mountains, and of snow or frost
I have taken no heed; but now I am growing old, and this severe cold is
more than I can bear. I pray you to let me enter and warm myself at the
fire of your cottage, that I may live through this bitter night."
When the priest heard what a helpless state the beast was reduced to, he
was filled with pity and said:
"That's a very slight matter: make haste and come in and warm yourself."
The badger, delighted with so good a reception, went into the hut, and
squatting down by the fire began to warm itself; and the priest, with
renewed fervour, recited his prayers and struck his bell before the
image of Buddha, looking straight before him.
After two hours the badger took its leave, with profuse expressions of
thanks, and went out; and from that time forth it came every night to
the hut. As the badger would collect and bring with it dried branches
and dead leaves from the hills for firewood, the priest at last became
very friendly with it, and got used to its company; so that if ever, as
the night wore on, the badger did not arrive, he used to miss it, and
wonder why it did not come. When the winter was over, and the springtime
came at the end of the second month, the badger gave up its visits, and
was no more seen; but, on the return of the winter, the beast resumed
its old habit of coming to the hut. When this practice had gone on for
ten years, one day the badger said to the priest, "Through your
reverence's kindness for all these years, I have been able to pass the
winter nights in comfort. Your favours are such that during all my life,
and even after my death, I must remember them. What can I do to requite
them? If there is anything that you wish for, pray tell me."
The priest, smiling at this speech, answered: "Being such as I am, I
have no desire and no wishes. Glad as I am to hear your kind intentions,
there is nothing that I can ask you to do for me. You need feel no
anxiety on my account. As long as I live, when the winter comes, you
shall be welcome here." The badger, on hearing this, could not conceal
its admiration of the depth of the old man's benevolence; but having so
much to be grateful for, it felt hurt at not being able to requite it.
As this subject was often renewed between them, the priest at last,
touched by the goodness of the badger's heart, said: "Since I have
shaven my head, renounced the world, and forsaken the pleasures of this
life, I have no desire to gratify, yet I own I should like to possess
three riyos in gold. Food and raiment I receive by the favour of the
villagers, so I take no heed for those things. Were I to die to-morrow,
and attain my wish of being born again into the next world, the same
kind folk have promised to meet and bury my body. Thus, although I have
no other reason to wish for money, still if I had three riyos I would
offer them up at some holy shrine, that masses and prayers might be said
for me, whereby I might enter into salvation. Yet I would not get this
money by violent or unlawful means; I only think of what might be if I
had it. So you see, since you have expressed such kind feelings toward
me, I have told you what is on my mind." When the priest had done
speaking, the badger leant its head on one side with a puzzled and
anxious look, so much so that the old man was sorry he had expressed a
wish which seemed to give the beast trouble, and tried to retract what
he had said. "Posthumous honours, after all, are the wish of ordinary
men. I, who am a priest, ought not to entertain such thoughts, or to
want money; so pray pay no attention to what I have said;" and the
badger, feigning assent to what the priest had impressed upon it,
returned to the hills as usual.
From that time forth the badger came no more to the hut. The priest
thought this very strange, but imagined either that the badger stayed
away because it did not like to come without the money, or that it had
been killed in an attempt to steal it; and he blamed himself for having
added to his sins for no purpose, repenting when it was too late:
persuaded, however, that the badger must have been killed, he passed his
time in putting up prayers upon prayers for it.
After three years had gone by, one night the old man heard a voice near
his door calling out, "Your reverence! your reverence!"
As the voice was like that of the badger, he jumped up as soon as he
heard it, and ran to open the door; and there, sure enough, was the
badger. The priest, in great delight, cried out: "And so you are safe
and sound, after all! Why have you been so long without coming here? I
have been expecting you anxiously this long while."
So the badger came into the hut and said: "If the money which you
required had been for unlawful purposes, I could easily have procured as
much as ever you might have wanted; but when I heard that it was to be
offered to a temple for masses for your soul, I thought that, if I were
to steal the hidden treasure of some other man, you could not apply to a
sacred purpose money which had been obtained at the expense of his
sorrow. So I went to the island of Sado,[4] and gathering the sand and
earth which had been cast away as worthless by the miners, fused it
afresh in the fire; and at this work I spent months and days." As the
badger finished speaking, the priest looked at the money which it had
produced, and sure enough he saw that it was bright and new and clean;
so he took the money, and received it respectfully, raising it to his
head.
"And so you have had all this toil and labour on account of a foolish
speech of mine? I have obtained my heart's desire, and am truly
thankful."
As he was thanking the badger with great politeness and ceremony, the
beast said: "In doing this I have but fulfilled my own wish; still I
hope that you will tell this thing to no man."
"Indeed," replied the priest, "I cannot choose but tell this story. For
if I keep this money in my poor hut, it will be stolen by thieves: I
must either give it to some one to keep for me, or else at once offer it
up at the temple. And when I do this, when people see a poor old priest
with a sum of money quite unsuited to his station, they will think it
very suspicious, and I shall have to tell the tale as it occurred; but I
shall say that the badger that gave me the money has ceased coming to my
hut, you need not fear being waylaid, but can come, as of old, and
shelter yourself from the cold." To this the badger nodded assent; and
as long as the old priest lived, it came and spent the winter nights
with him.
From this story, it is plain that even beasts have a sense of gratitude:
in this quality dogs excel all other beasts. Is not the story of the dog
of Totoribé Yorodzu written in the Annals of Japan? I[5] have heard that
many anecdotes of this nature have been collected and printed in a book,
which I have not yet seen; but as the facts which I have recorded relate
to a badger, they appear to me to be passing strange.