Category Archives: Era

by | May 14, 2015 · 8:05 pm

THE HIPPOCRATIC CORPUS
(c. 450-c. 350 B.C.)

The Hippocratic Oath
from About Maidens

 

Probably edited later at Alexandria, the body of medical works that has come to be known as the Hippocratic Corpus includes about 70 works, all originally in the Ionic dialect, of differing rhetorical and teaching styles, most likely stemming from a variety of different authors during the last decades of the 5th century B.C. and the first half of the 4th century B.C.. By tradition, they are attributed to the most renowned physician of the classical era, Hippocrates of Cos. These works established medicine as a discipline with its own methods and practices (particularly observation and experimentation) that were distinct from religion and philosophy. Hippocratic medicine saw illness as a natural process, an imbalance of the four “humors” or fluids of the body—blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile—and recognized that factors like diet, weather, and stress could influence health. In a famous passage in The Art, medicine is defined “in general terms” as “to do away with the sufferings of the sick, to lessen the violence of their diseases, and to refuse to treat those who are overmastered by their diseases, realizing that in such cases medicine is powerless.”

Very little is known about Hippocrates. Now revered as the “Father of Medicine,” he was born around 460 B.C. and lived on the Aegean island of Cos (Kos). By the time of Plato’s Phaedrus, written in the early 4th century B.C., Hippocrates’ fame had been established as a model physician: he was said to have been learned, humane, calm, pure of mind, grave, and reticent. The remains of the school and clinic attributed to Hippocrates are still visible on Cos. However, although he has at times been credited with authorship of most or all of the treatises forming the Corpus, none have been proven to be his. He is almost certainly not the author of the oath still bearing his name or of the short treatise on maidens.

In its original form, presented here, the “Hippocratic Oath” invokes the gods of healing, specifies the duties of the pupil toward his teacher and his teacher’s family, and makes explicit the pupil’s obligations in transmitting and using medical knowledge. It asserts a central principle: the physician shall come “for the benefit of the sick,” that is, for the sake of the patient rather than to serve the interests of other parties. This and the companion principle “do no harm” are still understood as the normative core of the Oath, which also articulates a variety of specific rules concerning medical practice: it mandates the use of dietetic measures only (or what would now be called drug therapy); it prohibits the use of surgery (reserved for another profession); it prohibits abortion; and, central to the issue of suicide, it prohibits supplying lethal drugs to one’s patients or to others.

Twentieth-century scholars like Ludwig Edelstein and Danielle Gourevitch have argued that the stringent ethics of this document do not accurately reflect the practice of medicine in 5th-century Greece, and are more likely a result of a later inclusion of differing philosophical ideals, principally Pythagorean religion. According to Edelstein (though not all scholars accept this view), at the time Hippocrates was writing, elective death, including both voluntary active euthanasia and physician-assisted suicide, was widely accepted and practiced in Greek society as an option for those diagnosed as terminally ill. Taking poison was the most usual means of ending life in these circumstances. It was thought to be the responsibility of the physician, who was typically his own apothecary, to supply an appropriate and effective poison to a patient whose prognosis was irremediably dim; it is said that hemlock was developed for this purpose. Such a step involved consultation between the patient and the physician, or between the patient’s family or friends and the physician; if the case was found to be hopeless, the physician might directly or indirectly suggest suicide. Whether to act upon such a suggestion, however, was left to the discretion of the patient. Thus the supplying of lethal poisons to patients upon request was not generally considered a violation of medical ethics; the Hippocratic Oath’s prohibition of this practice represents, in Edelstein’s view, the distinctive influence of Pythagoreanism.

“About Maidens” (peri parthenion), one of several gynecological treatises in the Hippocratic Corpus and a diatribe against marginal religious healers, is an early attempt to formulate a physiological explanation of suicide. It also represents an early medical attempt to identify risk groups. The text is based on the clinical observation that women strangle (or hang) themselves more often than men if faced with the “sacred disease” (epilepsy) or paranoid forms of mental illness, a fact attributed to feminine cowardice (“the female nature is more fainthearted”). It focuses particularly on disturbances in the parthenos or “maiden” who is childless and unmarried but at the age for marriage, not long after menarche; the symptoms described in this text would now be called premenstrual dysphoric disorder. The Hippocratic writer offers a therapeutic recommendation: quick intercourse and pregnancy (rather than offerings to Artemis, called “The Strangled,” the eternally virginal goddess). In this largely physiological explanation of suicide put forward in “About Maidens,” however, there is little exploration of psychosocial factors associated with the social conditions of sequestration under which girls in ancient Greece lived.

The “Hippocratic Oath” itself has had an erratic history. Although it was apparently used during ancient times, it was preserved primarily by Arabic scholars and not rediscovered in the West until translations of the Hippocratic Corpus appeared in the 11th century. Revised versions of the Oath are now administered in most U.S. medical schools (though fewer Canadian and British schools) upon the conferring of a medical degree. With very few exceptions, contemporary versions of the Oath taken by graduate physicians do not contain the original Greek version’s explicit prohibitions of taking fees for teaching, abortion, providing lethal drugs to dying patients, or surgery, though provisions concerning justice, social responsibility, and respect for life have often been introduced instead.

Sources

“The Hippocratic Oath,”  ed. and tr. Ludwig Edelstein, in Ancient Medicine: Selected Papers of Ludwig Edelstein,  eds.  Owsei and C. Lilian Temkin, tr. C. Lilian Temkin, Baltimore, MD:  Johns Hopkins Press, 1967, p. 6. “About Maidens” (peri parthenion),  text 8.466-70 Littre, tr. Nancy Demand (Greek deleted), in Nancy Demand, Birth, Death, and Motherhood in Classical Greece. Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1994, pp.  95-97. Quotation in introductory passage from “The Art,” III.3-10 in W.H.S. Jones, ed. and tr., Hippocrates. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1952, p. 193. Also see Danielle Gourevitch, “Suicide Among the Sick in Classical Antiquity,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 43(1969):501-518. Material concerning “About Maidens” in introductory passage also from Helen King, “Bound to Bleed: Artemis and Greek Women,” in Averil Cameron and Amélie Kuhrt, eds., Images of Women in Antiquity (London and Canberra: Croon Helm,  1983), pp. 109-127.

 

THE HIPPOCRATIC OATH

I swear by Apollo Physician and· Asclepius and Hygieia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfil according to my ability and judgment this .oath and this covenant:

To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him a share of mine, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage and to teach them this art – if they desire to learn it-without fee and covenant; to give a share of precepts and oral instruction and all the other learning to my sons and to the sons of him who has instructed me and to pupils who have signed the covenant and have taken an oath according to the medical law, but to no one else.

I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice.

I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody if asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect. Similarly I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy. In purity and holiness I will guard my life and my art.

I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work.

Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves.

What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself holding such things shameful to be spoken about.

If I fulfill this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.

 

from ABOUT MAIDENS

The beginning of medicine in my opinion is the constitution of the ever-existing. For it is not possible to know the nature of diseases, which indeed it is [the aim] of the art to discover, if you do not know the beginning in the undivided from which it is divided out.

First about the so-called sacred disease, and about those who are stricken, and about terrors, all that men fear exceedingly so as to be out of their minds and to seem to have seen certain daimons hostile to them, either in the night or in the day or at both times. For from such a vision many already are strangled more women than men; for the female nature is more fainthearted and lesser. But [maidens] for whom it is the time of marriage, remaining unmarried, suffer this more at the time of the going down of the menses. Earlier they do not suffer these distresses, for it is later that the blood is collected in the womb so as to flow away. Whenever then the mouth of the exit is not opened for it, and more blood flows in because of nourishment and the growth of the body, at this time the blood, not having an outlet, bursts forth by reason of its magnitude into the kardia [heart] and phrenes [diaphragm]. Whenever these are filled, the kardia becomes sluggish then from sluggishness comes torpor; then from torpor, madness. It is just as when someone sits for a long time, the blood from the hips and thighs, pressed out to the lower legs and feet, causes torpor, and from the torpor the feet become powerless for walking until the blood runs back to its own place; and it runs back quickest whenever, standing in cold water, you moisten the part up to the ankles. This torpor is not serious, for the blood quickly runs back on account of the straightness of the veins, and the part of the body is not critical. But from the kardia and the phrenes it runs back slowly, for the veins are at an angle, and the part is critical and disposed for derangement and mania. And whenever these parts are filled, shivering with fever starts up quickly; they call these fevers wandering. But when these things are thus, she is driven mad by the violent inflammation, and she is made murderous by the putrefaction, and she is fearful and anxious by reason of the gloom, and strangulations result from the pressure around the kardia and the spirit, distraught and anguished by reason of the badness of the blood, is drawn toward evil. And another thing, she addresses by name fearful things, and they order her to jump about and to fall down into wells and to be strangled, as if it were better and had every sort of advantage. And whenever they are without visions, there is a kind of pleasure that makes her desire death as if it were some sort of good. But when the woman returns to reason, women dedicate both many other things and the most expensive feminine clothing to Artemis, being utterly deceived, the soothsayers ordering it. Her deliverance [is] whenever nothing hinders the outflow of blood. But I myself bid parthenoi, whenever they suffer such things, to cohabit with men as quickly as possible, for if they conceive they become healthy. But if not, either immediately in the prime of youth, or a little later, she will be seized  [by this illness], if not by some other illness. And of married women, those who are sterile suffer this more often.

Comments Off on THE HIPPOCRATIC CORPUS
(c. 450-c. 350 B.C.)

The Hippocratic Oath
from About Maidens

Filed under Ancient History, Europe, Hippocrates, Selections

by | · 7:58 pm

EURIPIDES
(c. 484-406 B.C.)

from Suppliant Women: The Suicide of    Evadne, Watched by her Father

 

Euripides, the Greek dramatist, had a profound influence on the development of later Western drama. According to legend, he was born on the island of Salamis on September 23, 480 B.C., the day of the great naval battle in which the Greeks defeated the Persians; historians set his birthdate in 484. Euripides’ family soon fled to Athens, where he received a comprehensive education before beginning military service at age 20. His first play was produced in 455, when he competed in the Festival of Dionysus, a competition Sophocles had won only 13 years prior to Euripides’ initial entry. Euripides’ first of four victories in the Festival came in 442. Euripides also showed talent and interest in other areas of study, particularly natural science and philosophy. Although he is believed to have written many dramatic works, only 17 tragedies and one satyr play survive today, among them Alcestis (438), Medea (431), Hippolytus (428), and The Trojan Women (415). Throughout his dramatic career, Euripides was both praised and criticized for his unique and unconventional style, particularly the natural, realistic language of his heroes and his independence from traditional religious conventions; he is credited with bringing drama closer to the experience of the ordinary citizen. Aristotle called Euripides the most tragic of the Greek poets; he is sometimes called the philosopher of the stage. Euripides eventually became disaffected with life in Athens and moved to Macedonia, where he died in 406—according to legend, attacked and killed by the king’s hunting dogs.

In Suppliant Women (date uncertain), Euripides depicts the tragic aftermath of a war known as the “Seven Against Thebes.” In the drama, Evadne, whose husband Capaneus has died, commits suicide by throwing herself from a cliff onto his funeral pyre. Her elderly father Iphis witnesses her death and laments the torments of old age. Two cruxes in the text are often rendered in disparate ways in different translations: Iphis’ vow to starve himself and destroy his body, apophthero [“utterly ruin, destroy”], and his further insistence that the aged should not attempt to prolong their lives with various medical regimens but should leave and die, and “get out of the way of the young.” Suicide in old age or to lessen burdens on younger generations is not, however, to be confused with that of younger people with more emotional reasons, and the chorus of Greek women in Suppliant Women do not approve of Evadne’s suicide, saying “Alas, woman, it is a dread deed you have accomplished.”

SOURCE
Euripides, Suppliant Women, lines 980-1113, ed. and tr. David Kovacs. Cambridge, MA, and London: Harvard University Press, 1998, odd-numbered pp. 110-125, some punctuation deleted.

 

from SUPPLIANT WOMEN: THE SUICIDE OF EVADNE, WATCHED BY HER FATHER

 Chorus Leader

Look, I see the resting place and consecrated tomb of Capaneus here and gifts from the temple Theseus has dedicated to the dead. I also see near at hand Evadne, the glorious wife of lightning-slain Capaneus and the daughter of King Iphis. Why does she take this path and stand on the high cliff that towers over this temple?

Evadne

What light, what gleam
did the sun on its chariot shine forth,
and likewise the moon, astride her steed,
swiftly accompanying my bridal celebration
through the dark night with her swift-moving torches?
On that day with songs sweet-resounding
in honor of my marriage the city of Argos
raised tower-high my happiness
and that of my bridegroom,
Capaneus of the bronze panoply.
And now it is to him I have come, running
crazed from my house
to enter upon the same
pyre blaze and burial,
to bring my toilsome life and its labors
to a toilless end in Hades.
The most pleasurable death, you know,
is to die with one’s dearest as he dies,
if fate so ordains.

Chorus Leader

You see this pyre, above which you stand, the storehouse of Zeus, where lies your husband, bested by the blaze of the thunderbolt.

Evadne

I see that my journey’s end
is here where I stand (for fortune
is stepping along with me),
and it is here that to win glory
I shall launch myself from this cliff.
After leaping into the fire,
joining my body in the glowing flame
with my dear husband,
and laying my flesh near his.
I shall come to the marriage chamber of Persephone!
Never, where my life is concerned,
shall I abandon you lying dead beneath the earth!
Light the bridal torch, begin the marriage! May good luck
attend you, all lawful marriages
that may come to my children
in Argos! And may the wedded bridegroom,
as goodness ordains, dwell
fused in love to the pure impulse
of his noble wife!

Enter Iphis

Chorus Leader

But look, here your father himself, aged Iphis, draws near to receive new and unwelcome tidings, tidings he did not know before and which will grieve him when he hears them.

Iphis

O unhappy women, unhappy old man that I am I have come with a double burden of grief for my kin: I want to transport my son Eteoclus, killed by the spears of the Cadmeans, back to his native land by ship and to find my daughter, Capaneus’ wife, who sprang up and left her house, longing to die with her husband. Previously she was guarded closely in the house. But because of our present misfortunes I relaxed the watch, and she went off. But we think she is most likely to be here. Tell me if you have seen her.

Evadne

Why do you ask them? Here I am upon the cliff like a bird, perched high in my grief, father.

Iphis

My child, what impulse, what errand is this? Why have you stolen from home and come to this land?

Evadne

To learn my plans would make you angry, father. I do not want you to hear them.

Iphis

But is it not right for your father to know?

Evadne

You would be a foolish judge of my intent.

Iphis

But why have you adorned yourself with this finery?

Evadne

These clothes have a glorious aim, father.

Iphis

You do not look like a woman in mourning for her husband.

Evadne

No: it is for a new purpose that I am decked out.

Iphis

And yet you show yourself near his pyre and tomb?

Evadne

Yes: I have come here in glorious victory.

Iphis

What victory? I want to learn from your lips.

Evadne

Over all women the sun looks on.

Iphis

In the works of Athena or in prudence of thought?

Evadne

In goodness: I shall lie next to my husband in death.

Iphis

What do you mean? What is this diseased riddle you are telling?

Evadne

I shall leap upon the pyre of dead Capaneus here.

Iphis

My daughter, hush! Do not say this before the crowd.

Evadne

But this is the very thing I want, that all the Argives should know it.

Iphis

But I will not consent to your doing this.

Evadne

That makes no difference. You will not be able to seize me in your grasp. See, my body is sped: this is unkind to you but kind to me and to the husband with whom I share the pyre.

Evadne leaps

 Chorus

Alas,
woman, it is a dread deed you have accomplished!

Iphis

My miserable life is at an end, Argive women!

Chorus

Ah, ah!
Cruel are the griefs you have suffered!
Can you bear, poor man, to look on this deed of utmost
daring?

Iphis

You will never find another more hapless than me!

Chorus

Poor man!
You have taken a share, old sir, in the fortunes of Oedipus,
both you and my luckless city!

Iphis

Ah me! Why is it not possible for mortals to be twice young and twice old? If something is amiss at home, with our second thoughts we put it to rights, but we cannot do this with our lives. If we were twice young and old, when anyone made a mistake we could correct it when we had received our life’s second portion.

I, for example, saw others begetting children and longed for them, and this longing was my undoing. If I had known this and had experienced what a thing it is for a father to lose his children, I would never have come to my present pitch of misery. I begot and fathered a brave young man and now I am deprived of him.

Well, then, what am I to do in my misery? Return home? And then am I to look at the deep desolation of my house and the emptiness of my life? Or should I go to the house of Capaneus here? I loved to do so before when I had my daughter. But she is gone, she who always used to draw my cheek to her lips and hold my head in her hands. Nothing is sweeter to an aged father than a daughter. Sons are more spirited but not as endearing. Servants, take me swiftly home and hide me in the dark! There I shall starve my aged body and end my life! What good will it do me to touch the bones of my son?

Old age, so hard to wrestle with, how I detest you! I detest also those who wish to prolong their lives, using meat and drink and magic potions to turn aside the stream and avoid death. Since they do the earth no good, they should vanish and die and get out of the way of the young!

Exit Iphis

Comments Off on EURIPIDES
(c. 484-406 B.C.)

from Suppliant Women: The Suicide of    Evadne, Watched by her Father

Filed under Ancient History, Euripides, Europe, Selections

by | · 7:47 pm

SOPHOCLES
(c. 496-406 B.C.)

from Ajax
from Oedipus at Colonus

 

Sophocles was born in about 496 B.C., the son of a wealthy Athenian, an armor manufacturer, and played a distinguished part in the public life of Athens. Noted for his perfect craftsmanship as a playwright, Sophocles wrote some 123 plays and met with wide critical success; he took first place at between 18 and 24 tragedy competitions. Unfortunately, only seven of Sophocles’ plays have survived, none from the first 25 years of his creative life. Among those that do survive, the best known are Oedipus Rex and Antigone, but Ajax and Oedipus at Colonus, from which the selections here are taken, are of similar dramatic stature.

Sophocles’ view of life is a positive one, displayed in his skill as a tragic poet: he asserts the dignity, worth, and value of humankind, as well as the mysterious and divine power that ordains the laws of the universe. Sophocles lived to be about 90, and died shortly after the death of his contemporary Euripides [q.v.], just before the defeat of Athens in the Peloponnesian War.

Ajax is generally considered to be the earliest of Sophocles’ extant plays, written sometime between 450 and 440. The legendary events portrayed in this tragedy occurred between those covered in the Iliad and the Odyssey, during the period after the fall of Troy. Ajax and Odysseus have been contenders for the honor of receiving the arms of Achilles upon his death, but the arms have gone to Odysseus. In a frenzy of jealousy, Ajax has been driven temporarily insane; led by Athena into thinking they were the Greek generals who had insulted him, Ajax has tortured and slaughtered the army’s livestock. The play opens the following morning: “In the darkness of night madness has seized/Our glorious Ajax: he is ruined and lost.”

Now sane again, Ajax surveys what he has done, and the remainder of the first act follows his decision to kill himself, an act of shame and remorse. The heavily excerpted text here focuses on Ajax’s decision, his friends’ reflections on intervention in a suicide they see is coming, and the play’s overriding sense that suicide is the outcome of a curse originating with the gods. The second half of the play, not included here, concerns the rather different question of what to do with Ajax’s body after the suicide, and while there is extensive discussion of whether he merits a hero’s burial, the fact that he was a suicide is not at issue. In the end, Odysseus, once his “worst foe,” praises him as a brave man, among the noblest heroes, a friend.

The second, very brief selection is from Oedipus at Colonus, Sophocles’ last work and thought by many to be his greatest. It is the continuing tragedy of Oedipus’ discovery that, without knowing their identities, he has slain his father Laius and married the newly widowed queen Jocasta, who is in fact his mother. In remorse, he has blinded himself. This passage from the chorus underscores the tragic drama that is unfolding in the play: it makes the case for not living too long, but returning “with all speed” whence one came.

Source

Sophocles, “Ajax,” tr. R.C. Trevelyan, and “Oedipus at Colonus,” tr. R. C. Jebb, in The Complete Greek Drama, Vol. I, eds. Whitney J. Oates and Eugene O’Neill, Jr., New York: Random House, 1938, pp. 320, 324-327, 329-330, 333-334, 335-336, 338-342, 444, 654.

 

from AJAX

Athena

Seest thou, Odysseus, how great the strength of gods?
Whom couldst thou find more prudent than this man,
Or whom in act more valiant, when need called?

Odysseus

I know none nobler; and I pity him
In his misery, albeit he is my foe,
Since he is yoked fast to an evil doom.
My own lot I regard no less than his.
For I see well, nought else we but mere
Phantoms, all we that live, mere fleeting shadow.

Athena

Warned therefore by his fate, never do thou
Thyself utter proud words against the gods;
Nor swell with insolence, it thou shouldst vanquish
Some rival by main strength or by wealth’s power.
For a day can bring all mortal greatness low,
And a day can lift it up.  But the gods love
The wise of heart, the forward they abhor.

(ATHENA vanishes and ODYSSEUS departs.)

Tecmessa

Liegemen of Ajax, ship-companions,
Ye children of earth-sprung Erechthid race,
Lamentation is now our portion, to whom
Dear is the far-off house of Telamon,
Now that the stern and terrible Ajax
Lies whelmed by a storm
Of turbid wildering fury.

Tecmessa

Yonder man, while his spirit was diseased,
Himself had joy in his own evil plight,
Though to us, who were sane, he brought distress.
But now, since he has respite from his plague,
He with sore grief is utterly cast down,
And we likewise, no less than heretofore.
Are there not here two woes instead of one?

Leader

Yes truly.  And I fear, from some god came
This stroke; how else?  If, now his frenzy is ceased,
His mind has no more ease than when it raged.

Tecmessa

‘Tis even as I said, rest well assured

Leader

But how did this bane first alight upon him?
To us who share thy grief show that befell

Tecmessa

Thou shalt hear all, as though thou hadst been present.
In the middle of the night, when the evening braziers
No longer flared, he took a two-edged sword,
And fain would sally upon an empty quest.
But I rebuked him, saying: “What doest thou,
Ajax?  Why thus uncalled wouldst thou go forth?
No messenger has summoned thee, no trumpet
Roused thee.  Nay, the whole camp is sleeping still.”
But curtly he replied in well-worn phrase:
“Woman, silence is the grace of woman.”
Thus schooled, I yielded; and he rushed out alone.
What passed outside the tent, I cannot tell.
But in he came, driving lashed together
Bulls, and shepherd dogs, and fleecy prey.
Some he beheaded, the wrenched-back throats of some
He slit, or cleft their chines; others he bound
And tortured, as though men they were, not beasts.
Last, darting through the doors, as to some phantom
He tossed words, now against the Atreidae, now
Taunting Odysseus, piling up huge jeers
Of how he had gone and wreaked his scorn upon them.
Soon he rushed back within the tent, where slowly
And hardly to his reason he returned.
And gazing round on the room filled with havoc,
He struck his head and cried out; then amidst
The wrecks of slaughtered sheep a wreck he fell,
And sat clutching his hair with tight-clenched nails.
There first for a long while he crouched speechless;
Then did he threaten me with fearful threats,
If I revealed not all that had befallen him,
Asking what meant the plight wherein he lay.
And I, friends, terror-stricken, told him all
That had been done, so far as I had knowledge.
Forthwith he broke forth into bitter wailing,
Such as I ne’er had heard from him before
For always had he held that such laments
Befitted cowards only, and low-souled men:
But uttering no shrill cries, he would express
His grief in low groans, as of a moaning bull.
But now prostrate beneath so great a woe,
Not tasting food nor drink, he sits among
The sword-slain beasts, motionless where he sank
And plainly he meditates some baleful deed,
For so portend his words and lamentations.
But, O friends!—‘twas for this cause I came forth—
Enter and help, if help at all you can:
For by friends’ words men so bestead are won.

Leader

Child of Teleutas, fearful are thy tidings,
That our prince has been maddened by his griefs.

Ajax (within)

Alas!  Woe, woe!

Tecmessa

Soon, I fear, worse will follow.  Heard you not?
‘Twas Ajax.  Oh, how dreadful was that cry.

Ajax

Alas!  Woe, woe!

Leader

He seems either still frenzied, or else grieving
For his past frenzies, now he sees their work

Ajax

Alas!  My son, my son!

Tecmessa

Woe’s me!  Eurysaces, ‘tis for thee he calls.
What can he purpose?—Where art thou?—Ah, woe!

Ajax

Teucer, come!—Where is Teucer?  Will he never
Come back from cattle-raiding?—while I perish!

Leader

He seems in his right mind.  But open the doors.
Perhaps even the sight of me may sober him.

(She opens the doors of the tent.  AJAX is revealed sitting among the slain beasts.)

Tecmessa

See, I have opened.  You may now behold
What he has done, and in what plight he lies

Ajax (chanting)

Alas!
My shipmates and friends, you that alone to me
Loyal and true remain, of all friends alone,
Behold how great a billow lately rising from the storm of blood
Surging around engulphs me!

Leader

Ah me, too true, it seems, was thy report.
This sight reveals the work of no sane mind.

Ajax (chanting)

Alas!
My mates, skilled and tried in brave seamanship,
Ye who embarking drove the wave-cleaving oar,
In you, in you alone I see a help and refuge from despair.
Smite me, and spill my blood too.

Leader

Keep silence from dread words; nor curing ill
By ill, so swell the misery of this curse.

Ajax (chanting)

Behold now the bold, the man stout of heart,
Who ne’er shrank in fight agáinst fóes—behold
How I have spent my rage on beasts that feared no harm!
Ah me, the mockery!  To what shame am I brought low!

Tecmessa

Ajax, my master, I entreat thee, speak not so.

Ajax (chanting)

Away hence, I command thee!  Take thyself elsewhere
Aiai!  Aiai!

Ajax

Aiai!  Who ever would have thought my name
Would harmonize so aptly with my woes?
For now well may I wail that sound out twice,
Yea thrice; such woeful destinies are mine,
Whose father from this land of Ida won
Fame’s noblest guerdon over the whole host,
And crowned with praises only sailed back home;
But I, his son, who to the self-same Troy
Came after him, in might no less that he,
Nor rendering meaner service by my deeds,
Dishonoured by the Argives perish thus.
Yet this methinks I know for truth, were now
Achilles living and called on to adjudge
As the award of valour his own arms,
No man’s hand would have grasped them before mine.
But now the Atreidae to a scheming knave
Have dealt them, thrusting by my valiant deeds.
And if these eyes, these wits had not in frenzy
Swerved from my purpose, never would they thus
Pervert judgment against another man.
But the irresistible fierce-eyed goddess, even
As I was arming my right hand to slay them,
Foiled me, smiting me with a maddening plague,
So that I stained my hand butchering these cattle.
Thus my foes mock me, escaped beyond my reach,
Through no goodwill of mine: but if a god
Thwart vengeance, even the base may escape the nobler.
And what should I now do, who manifestly
To Heaven am hateful; whom the Greeks abhor,
Whom every Trojan hates, and this whole land?
Shall I desert the beached ships, and abandoning
The Atreidae, sail home o’er the Aegean Sea?
With what face shall I appear before my father
Telamon?  How will he find heart to look
On me, stripped of my championship in war,
That mighty crown of fame that once was his?
No, that I dare not.  Shall I then assault
Troy’s fortress, and alone against them all
Achieve some glorious exploit and then die?
No, I might gratify the Atreidae thus.
That must not be.  Some scheme let me devise
Which may prove to my aged sire that I,
His son, at least by nature am no coward.
For ‘tis base for a man to crave long life
Who endures never-varying misery.
What joy can be in day that follows day,
Bringing us close then snatching us from death?
As of no worth would I esteem that man
Who warms himself with unsubstantial hopes.
Nobly to live, or else nobly to die
Befits proud birth.  There is no more to say.

Leader

The word thou hast uttered, Ajax, none shall call
Bastard, but the true offspring of thy soul.
Yet pause.  Let those who love thee overrule
Thy resolution.  Put such thoughts aside.

Leader

I am fearful, listening to this eager mood.
The sharp edge of thy tongue, I like it not.

Tecmessa

O my lord Ajax, what are thou purposing?

Ajax

Question me not.  To be discreet is best.

Tecmessa

Ah me, heavy is my heart.  Now by thy child,
By the gods, I entreat, forsake us not.

Ajax

Vex me no further.  Know’st thou not that I
To the gods owe no duty any more?

Tecmessa

Utter no proud words.

Ajax

Speak to those who listen

Tecmessa

Wilt thou not heed?

Ajax

Too much thou hast spoken already.

Tecmessa

Yes, through my fears, O king.

Ajax

Close the doors quickly.

Tecmessa

For the gods’ love, relent.

Ajax

‘Tis a foolish hope,
If thou shouldst now propose to school mood

(AJAX enters, carrying a sword.  As he speaks, TECMESSA also enters.)

Ajax

All things the long and countless lapse of time
Brings forth, displays, then hides once more in gloom.
Nought is too strange to look for; but the event
May mock the sternest oath, the firmest will.
Thus I, who late so strong, so stubborn seemed
Like iron dipped, yet now grow soft with pity
Before this woman, whom I am loath to leave
Midst foes a widow with this orphaned child.
But I will seek the meadows by the shore:
There will I wash and purge these stains, if so
I may appease Athena’s heavy wrath.
Then will I find some lonely place, where I
May hide this sword, beyond all others cursed,
Buried where none may see it, deep in earth.
May night and Hades keep it there below.
For from that hour my hand accepted it,
The gift of Hector, deadliest of my foes,
Nought from the Greeks towards me hath sped well.
So now I find that ancient proverb true,
Foes’ gifts are no gifts: profit bring they none.
Therefore henceforth I study to obey
The Gods, and reverence the sons of Atreus.
Our rulers are they: we must yield.  How else?
For to authority yield all things most dread
And mighty.  Thus must Winter’s snowy feet
Give place to Summer with her wealth of fruits;
And from her weary round doth Night withdraw,
That Day’s white steeds may kindle heaven with light.
After fierce tempest calm will ever lull
The moaning sea; and Sleep, that masters all,
Binds life awhile, yet loosens soon the bond.
And who am I that I should not learn wisdom?
Of all men I, whom proof hath taught of late
How so far only should we hate our foes
As though we soon might love them, and so far
Do a friend service, as to one most like
Some day to prove our foe; since oftenest men
In friendship but a faithless haven find.
Thus well am I resolved.  (To TECMESSA) Thou, woman, pass
Within, and pray gods that all things so
May be accomplished as my heart desires.
And you, friends, heed my wishes as she doth;
And when he comes, bid Teucer he must guard
My rights at need, and withal stand your friend.
For now I go whither I needs must pass.
Do as I bid.  Soon haply you shall hear,
With me, for all this misery, ‘tis most well.

Leader

Well, he is gone.  To wisest purpose now
His mind is turned, to appease heaven’s wrath

Messenger

These words of thine are filled with utter folly,
If there was truth in Calchas’ prophecy.

Leader

What prophecy?  And what know you of this thing?

Messenger

Thus much I know, for by chance I was present.
Leaving the circle of consulting chiefs
Where sat the Atreidae, Calchas went aside,
And with kind purpose grasping Teucer’s hand
Enjoined him that by every artifice
He should restrain Ajax within his tents
This whole day, and not leave him to himself,
If he wished ever to behold him alive.
For on this day alone, such were his words,
Would the wrath of divine Athena vex him.
For the overweening and unprofitable
Fall crushed be heaven-sent calamities
(So the seer spoke), whene’er one born a man
Has conceived thoughts too high for man’s estate:
And this man, when he first set forth from home,
Showed himself foolish, when his father spoke to him
Wisely: “My son, seek victory by the spear;
But seek it always with the help of heaven.”
Then boastfully and witlessly he answered:
“Father, with heaven’s help a mere man of nought
Might win victory: but I, albeit without
Their aid, trust to achieve a victor’s glory.”
Such was his proud vaunt.  Then a second time
Answering divine Athena, when she urged him
To turn a slaughterous hand upon his foes,
He gave voice to this dire, blasphemous boast:
“Goddess, stand thou beside the other Greeks.
Where I am stationed, no foe shall break through.”
By such words and such thoughts too great for man
Did he provoke Athena’s pitiless wrath.
But if he lives through this one day, perchance,
Should heaven be willing, we may save him yet.
So spoke the seer; and Teucer from his seat
No sooner risen, sent me with this mandate
For you to observe.  But if we have been forestalled,
That man lives not, or Calchas in no prophet.

Leader (calling)

Woful Tecmessa, woman born to sorrow,
Come forth and hear this man who tells of a peril
That grazes us too close for our mind’s ease.

(TECMESSA enters from the tent.)

Tecmessa

Why alas do you break my rest again
After brief respite from relentless woes?

Leader

Give hearing to this messenger, who brings
Tidings that grieve me of how Ajax fares.

Tecmessa

Ah me, what sayest thou, man?  Are we undone?

Messenger

I know not of thy fortune; but for Ajax,
If he be gone abroad, my mind misgives.

Tecmessa

Yes, he is gone.  I am racked to know thy meaning.

Messenger

Teucer commands you to keep him within doors,
And not to let him leave his tent alone.

Tecmessa

And where is Teucer, and why speaks he thus?

Messenger

He has but now returned, and he forebodes
That this going-forth will prove fatal to Ajax.

Tecmessa

Woe’s me, alas!  From whom has he learned this?

Messenger

From the seer, Thestor’s son, this very day,
Which if fraught either with his death of life.

Tecmessa

Ah me, my friends, avert this threatening doom!
Speed some of you to hasten Teucer hither:
Others go search the bays, some west, some east,
And track my lord’s ill-omened going-forth.
Yes, now I know I have been deceived by him,
And from his former favour quite cast out.
Alas, child, what shall I do?  Sit still I must not:
But far as I have strength I too will go.
Let us start quickly ‘tis no time for loitering,
If we would save one who is in haste to die.

Leader

I am ready, as not words alone shall prove,
But speed of act and foot to make words good.

(The CHORUS, TECMESSA and MESSENGER go out.  The scene
changes to a lonely place by the sea-shore.  Bushes and
underbrush are in the background.  AJAX enters alone.)

Ajax

The slayer stands so that his edge may cleave
Most surely (if there be leisure for such thought),
Being the gift of Hector, of all friends
Most unloved, and most hateful to my sight.
Then it is planted in Troy’s hostile soil,
New-sharpened on the iron-biting whet.
And heedfully have I planted it, that so
With a swift death it prove to me most kind.
Thus have I made all ready.  Next be thou
The first, O Zeus, to aid me, as is right.
It is no mighty boon that I shall crave.
Send some announcer of the evil news
To Teucer, that he first may lift me up,
When I have fallen upon this reeking sword,
Lest ere he come some enemy should espy me
And cast me forth to dogs and birds a prey.
This, O Zeus, I entreat thee, and likewise call
On Hermes, guide to the underworld, to lay me
Asleep without a struggle, at one swift bound,
When I have thrust my heart through with this sword.
Next I call on those maidens ever-living
And ever watchful of all human miseries,
The dread swift-striding Erinyes, that they mark
How by the Atreidae I have been destroyed:
And these vile men by a vile doom utterly
May they cut off, even as they see me here.
Come, O ye swift avenging Erinyes,
Spare not, touch with affliction the whole host.
And thou, whose chariot mounts up the steep sky,
Thou Sun, when on the land where I wan born
Thou shalt look down, check thy gold-spangled rein,
And announce my disasters and my doom
To my aged sire and her who nurtured me.
She, woeful woman, when she hears these tidings
Will wail out a loud dirge through all the town.
But I waste labour with this idle moan.
The act must now be done, and that with speed.
O Death, Death, come now and look upon me.
No, ‘tis there I shall meet and speak to thee.
But thee, bright daylight which I now behold,
And Helios in his chariot I accost
For this last time of all, and then no more.
O sunlight!  O thou hallowed soil, my own
Salamis, stablished seat of my sire’s hearth,
And famous Athens, with thy kindred race,
And you, ye springs and streams, and Trojan plains,
Farewell, all ye who have sustained my life.
This is the last word Ajax speaks to you.
All else in Hades to the dread will I say.
(He falls on his sword)

Tecmessa

I am lost, destroyed, made desolate, my friends.

Leader

What is it?  Speak.

Tecmessa

Ajax, our master, newly slaughtered lies
Yonder, a hidden sword sheathed in his body.

Chorus (chanting)

Woe for my lost hopes of home!
Woe’s me, thou hast slain me, my king,
Me thy shipmate, hapless man!
Woeful-souled woman too!

Tecmessa

Since thus it is with him, ‘tis mine to wail.

Leader

By whose hand has he wrought this luckless deed?

Tecmessa

By his own hand, ‘tis evident.  This sword
Whereon he fell, planted in earth convicts him.

Chorus (chanting)

Woe for my blind folly!  Lone in thy blood thou liest, from friends’ help afar.
And I the wholly witless, the all unwary,
Forbore to watch thee.  Where, where
Lieth the fatally named, intractable Ajax?

Tecmessa

None must behold him.  I will shroud him wholly
In this enfolding mantle; for mo man
Who loved him could endure to see him thus
Through nostrils and through red gash spouting up
The darkened blood from his self-stricken wound.
Ah me, what shall I do?  What friend shall lift thee?
Where is Teucer?  Timely indeed would he now come,
To compose duly his slain brother’s corpse.
O hapless Ajax, who wast once so great,
Now even thy foes might dare to mourn thy fall.

Chorus (chanting)

‘Twas fate’s will, alas, ‘twas fate then for thou
Stubborn of soul at length to work out a dark
Doom of ineffable miseries.  Such the dire
Fury of passionate hate
I heard thee utter fierce of mood
Railing at Atreus’ sons
Night by night, day by day.
Verily then it was the sequence of woes
First began, when as the prize of worth
Fatally was proclaimed the golden panoply.

 

from OEDIPUS AT COLONUS

Chorus

strophe
Whoso craves the ampler length of life, not content to desire a modest span, him will I judge with no uncertain voice; he cleaves to folly.

For the long days lay up full many things nearer unto grief than joy; but as for thy delights, their place shall know them no more, when a man’s life hath lapsed beyond the fitting term; and the Deliverer comes at the last to all alike,—when the doom of Hades is suddenly revealed, without marriage-song, or lyre, or dance,—even Death at the last.

antistrophe
Not to be born is, past all prizing, best; but, when a man hath seen the light, this is next best by far, that with all speed he should go thither, whence he hath come.

For when he hath seen youth go by, with its light follies, what troublous affliction is strange to his lot, what suffering is not therein?—envy, factions, strife, battle and slaughters; and, last of all, age claims him for her own,—age, dispraised, infirm, unsociable, un-friended, with whom all woe of woe abides.

Comments Off on SOPHOCLES
(c. 496-406 B.C.)

from Ajax
from Oedipus at Colonus

Filed under Ancient History, Europe, Selections, Sophocles

by | · 7:38 pm

CONFUCIUS
(551-479 B.C.)

from The Analects
from The Book of Filial Piety

 

Confucius (Kongzi), often regarded as the greatest of the Chinese sages and as the most profound influence on Chinese civilization in general, was born in 551 B.C. in the state of Lu, in modern Shandong, where his descendants still live. The name Confucius is a Latinized form of the Chinese Kongfuzi, meaning “Master Kong,” drawn from his family name Kong. Much of what is believed about his life is legendary. Confucius is said to have been the youngest of 11 children in a family that was noble but fairly poor; his father died when he was about three. Confucius devoted himself to the study of ancient Chinese literature known as the Five Classics, including the Shu Jing, or Book of Documents, the Shi Jing, or Book of Odes, also called the Book of Songs, and the Yi Jing, or Book of Changes, a divination manual. According to traditional sources, he occupied various minor posts and was made minister of justice at about the age of 51 until his resignation c. 495 B.C. Confucius wandered from state to state for the next 13 years, teaching the Five Classics and attempting to persuade the state rulers he met of the need for social, political, and moral reforms. He spoke in favor of making education available to all, and promoted a view of education as dedicated to the advancement of character rather than vocational training. He was the first to advocate in any sustained way the notion of moral education through the rituals of the ancient dynasties and to insist that moral reform through such education could restore peace and harmony to society. His teachings are rooted in a deeply humanistic worldview, emphasizing the concept of ren, variously translated as “goodness,” “benevolence,” or “humaneness,” which he saw as the highest virtue. The man of ren who is capable of genuinely empathetic understanding that combines conscientiousness and altruism is the morally ideal person.

The work most directly associated with Confucius is The Analects, a collection of sayings attributed to Confucius and accounts of his deeds, together with his reflections on the Chinese classics. The Analects was probably put together by his pupils and their pupils, and finally consolidated by Han scholars some five or six centuries after Confucius’s death. The material is not systematic and is in some places historically inaccurate; it also includes some material that is clearly of much later date, as well as some that is alien or hostile. Nevertheless, The Analects is recognized as the most reliable source of Confucius’s thought. The Xiao Jing, or Book of Filial Piety, a collection circulating in part before Confucius but, by tradition, attributed to him, depicts conversations between Confucius and his disciple Zengzi, one of Confucius’s followers particularly renowned for the virtue of filial piety. The Book of Filial Piety was probably compiled by members of Master Zeng’s school and consolidated in later centuries. Both texts identify the duty of filial piety as a central ethical obligation: the obligation to love and care for one’s parents. The implications of this duty for the question of suicide are evident in both texts: one must not harm or destroy one’s body.

Analects 8.3 depicts Master Zeng, the disciple who is Confucius’s interlocutor in the Book of Filial Piety, as he is dying. Zengzi is asking his students to look at his hands and feet to ensure that he is still whole, and expresses satisfaction that he has preserved his body intact throughout his life—a duty central to filial piety. Thus Zengzi can expose his hands and feet, often at risk in early China, where amputation was a common punishment.

To injure or destroy one’s own body, or to allow it to be injured or destroyed, would be to violate one’s obligation to one’s parents; this obligation presumably precludes suicide. Consonant with this, the selection from the Book of Filial Piety, framed in the voice of Confucius, also describes the obligation to care for and preserve oneself, including one’s own body, as central to the obligation of filial piety.

Analects 8.13 and 14.12 both address willingness to give up one’s life, in 8.13 for the Dao or “Way,” and in 14.12 in times of danger as a characteristic of the “complete” or fully virtuous and cultured gentleman; it may also include a willingness to voluntarily sacrifice one’s life, not just risk the loss of it. The first three exemplary individuals mentioned in 14.12 are respected state officials; Ran Qiu was one of Confucius’s disciples.

Analects 14.16 and 14.17 refer to events that took place during the reign of Duke Huan, the official hegemon from 681–643 B.C. Duke Huan and his brother Prince Jiu were both exiles from their home state of Qi, which was ruled by their eldest brother. While in exile, Prince Jiu was served by his retainers Shao Hu and Guan Zhong. Upon their eldest brother’s death, Duke Huan, the youngest brother, returned to Qi to usurp power and ordered the death of his elder brother Prince Jiu and the return of his retainers Shao Hu and Guan Zhong. The expectation of the time was that retainers would commit suicide rather than serve another lord, and this is what Shao Hu did. However, Guan Zhong, on the other hand, willingly returned to serve Duke Huan and became his Prime Minister. It is not clear whether Confucius approves or disapproves of this serious breach of propriety; Confucius questions Guan Zhong’s ren, “benevolence” or “goodness,” the highest virtue for Confucius. Guan Zhong subsequently became a very famous political figure, and one of the most important political texts of the time, the Guanzi, was attributed to (and named after) him.

Analects 15.9 acknowledges that in some cases, morally ideal people will knowingly bring about their own destruction for virtuous ends. Although this passage is often translated as claiming that morally ideal people will sometimes “sacrifice” their lives in order to achieve goodness or ren, the Confucian text translated literally reads “kill themselves.” However, the focus seems to be on doing what is necessary to accord with ren, not on suicide per se. The extent to which Confucius distinguishes “suicide” from other forms of self-caused death is not entirely clear.

Over his lifetime, many gentleman-scholars and literati gathered around Confucius. Sima Qian’s [q.v.] Records of the Historian claims that by the time Confucius died, he had some 3,000 followers. Although, when at the age of 72 he was dying, Confucius is said to have felt that his life had not been a success, he has had incalculable effect on Chinese ethical and political thought. For centuries, as Edward Slingerland points out, in order to pass China’s civil service examinations, every educated Chinese person was required to memorize the Analects until the last nationwide exams in the early 20th century.

Sources

Confucius, The Analects, 8:3, 8:13, 14.12, 14:16, 14:17, 15:9, tr. Eirik Lang Harris. Some interpretive material from Confucius, The Analects, tr. Edward Slingerland, Indianapolis: Hackett, 2003; also from Eirik Lang Harris and Eric L. Hutton; Confucius, The Book of Filial Piety, tr. Eirik Lang Harris. Some interpretive material from The Sacred Books of the East: The Texts of Confucianism, Vol. III, Part I: The Shu King. The Religious Portions of the Shih King. The Hsiao King. tr. James Legge, Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1899, and from Eirik Lang Harris.

 

from THE ANALECTS

8.3

 Zengzi was dying and summoned his students, “Uncover my feet!  Uncover my hands! The Book of Odes says,

‘Trembling and cautious;
As if overlooking a deep abyss;
As if treading upon thin ice.’

But now, whatever may come, I know that I have escaped [mutilation], my young ones.”

8.13

The Master [Confucius] said, “Be earnestly trustworthy and love learning, and defend unto death the excellent Way. Do not enter an imperiled state; do not dwell within a disordered state.  If the empire possesses the Way, then allow yourself to be seen.  If it lacks the Way, then remain hidden.  If a state possesses the Way, then if one is poor and humble, this is shameful.  If a state lacks the Way, then if one is rich and honored, this is shameful.”

14.12

Zilu asked what was meant by a ‘complete person.’

The Master said, “One who is as wise as Zang Wuzhong, who is like Gongchuo in not being covetous, who is as brave as Zhangzi of Bian, who is as artistically talented as Ran Qiu, and who refines these traits by means of ritual and music, such a person could be called a ‘complete person.’”

He continued, “But in the present time, is it necessary that a ‘complete person’ have all of these attributes?   If, when one sees a chance for profit, one thinks about what is right, when one sees danger one is prepared to give up one’s life, when h e does not forget for his entire life a promise made long ago, then one may be called a ‘complete person.’”

14.16

Zilu said, “When Duke Huan killed [his brother] Prince Jiu, Prince Jiu’s advisor, Shao Hu, died for Prince Jiu, but his other advisor, Guan Zhong did not.”

He continued, “Is Guan Zhong not lacking in ren [goodness]?”

The Master replied, “The reason why Duke Huan was able on numerous occasions to unite the feudal lords without resorting to war chariots was because of Guan Zhong’s strength.  But in regards to his ren, in regards to his ren…”

14.17

Zigong said, “Guan Zhong was not ren, was he? When When Duke Huan killed [his brother] Prince Jiu, Guan Zhong was not able to die for Prince Jiu, and moreover served as Duke Huan’s Prime Minister.”

The Master said, “When Guan Zhong served as Duke Huan’s Prime Minister, the Duke made him hegemon over the feudal lords and united the empire.  Even today, people are still benefiting from this.  Were it not for Guan Zhong, we might all be wearing our hair loose and fastening the fronts of our garments on the left [as barbarians do].  How can we expect of him the petty sincerity of a common husband or wife, to hang himself in some ravine or ditch, with no one knowing of it?”

15.9

The Master said, “Among those who have [good] purpose and those who are ren, none will seek life at the expense of harming ren, and there are those who will cause death for their person in order to accomplish what is [or accords with] ren.”

from THE BOOK OF FILIAL PIETY

Once, when Confucius was resting at home, Zengzi was attending him. The Master said, “The Former Kings used the ultimate virtue and the crucial method in order to cause the empire to submit [to their authority]. Because of this the people were harmonious and peaceful, and that there was no resentment between superiors and subordinates. Do you know what it was?”

Zengzi rose from his mat respectfully and replied, “I am not perceptive; how could I be capable of knowing this?”

The Master said, “It was filial piety – the root of virtue and that from which all teaching stems.   Sit down again and I shall explain it to you. Our body, limbs, hair, and skin are received from our parents, and so we do not dare to injure or harm them. This is the beginning of filial piety. When we establish ourselves and practice the Way so as to make our name known to future generations and thereby bring glory to our parents, this is the consummation o f filial piety. Filial piety begins in service to our parents, continues in service to our lord, and is consummated in establishing our place in the world [ and therefore our parents’ reputations].

The ‘Daya’ section of the Book of Odes says,

‘Never forget your ancestors;
Cultivate your virtue.’”

Comments Off on CONFUCIUS
(551-479 B.C.)

from The Analects
from The Book of Filial Piety

Filed under Ancient History, Asia, Confucianism, Confucius, Selections

by | May 8, 2015 · 6:31 pm

THE JAIN TRADITION
(599-527 B.C. to 5th century A.D.)

Acaranga Sutra: The Seventh Lecture,    called Liberation
Upasaka-Dashah: Ten Chapters on Lay    Attenders: The Story of Ananda
Tattvartha Sutra: Passionless End is    Not Suicide

 

Although the origins of the Jain tradition are unknown, some have speculated that, like Buddhism, it developed within Hinduism. Mahavira, the figure recognized by the Jain tradition as the last of a chain of twenty-four omniscient teachers or Jinas, was roughly contemporaneous with the Buddha some two and a half millennia ago. According to traditional dates, Mahavira lived from 599 to 527 B.C.; however, scholars who accept a later date for the Buddha would adjust Mahavira’s dates accordingly, approximately 100 years after the earliest traditional dating. Mahavira and the Buddha lived and taught in the same region, though there is no record that they ever met. In their central departure from the brahmanical tradition, Mahavira and the Buddha did not accept the Vedas, primarily because they rejected the sorts of sacrifices associated with the Vedas but which violated the key principle of ahimsa or nonviolence.

The ethics of suicide are seen rather differently in the Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain traditions, even though these traditions spring from some of the same roots and although the difference may be as much a matter of emphasis as of normative view. The Hindus, especially the Brahman lawgivers, generally held that suicide was not permitted, except as a penalty for a great crime, or when an ascetic chooses to end his life, or when a figure of great spirituality walks toward the Himalayas in “the Great Departure,” the journey that ends in death. Buddhists permitted suicide only in exceptional cases, usually cases of self-sacrifice to relieve the suffering of another; in self-respecting cases, it held, rather, that a person should wait and bear suffering without seeking to escape. But Jains ­permitted—indeed, revered—sallekhana as the culmination of one’s present life and the transition of the soul into the next.

Sallekhana, also called santhara or santharo in the Shvetambara branch of Jain tradition, sometimes called “spiritual death through fasting,” is the central austerity that forms the ideal conclusion of a life of progressive stages of asceticism and withdrawal from the necessities of ordinary life. Jains are adamant that sallekhana is not suicide, and although it is the believer who knowingly and voluntarily takes the steps that lead to his or her death, this is not considered self-destruction. Rather, death in this way provides a measure of control of the transition from one life to the next, recognizing, as do all Indian religions, that the last moments of a person’s life are of utmost importance in determining the condition of one’s subsequent incarnation. It is “scratching out body to save soul.”

In Jain belief, there are certain conditions in which sallekhana can be performed, essentially those in which the purposes of life have been served and circumstances are such that one’s religious vows would be compromised. Most commonly, Jains ask for permission to undertake sallekhana in the case of terminal illness, when death is imminent. Other circumstances have been permissible for monks and nuns, namely in order to head off a catastrophe that would cause them to compromise their vows of total renunciation, such as blindness or the inability to walk and collect alms, or in the case of an unavoidable calamity, such as severe drought. It is said that Mahavira’s parents, who were followers of the 23rd Jina, named Parshvanatha, undertook sallekhana at the end of their lives.

Sallekhana is not to be conflated with suicide in any usual sense, and it is to be done without striving, without passion, and without emotional arousal or turmoil of any form. It must observe the central ethical principles in Jainism, nonviolence and the avoidance of spiritual contamination. Sallekhana is seen as a wise or holy death for which one should prepare for one’s entire life. In contrast, suicide, which in the Jain view arises from ignorance, despair, inadequacy, anger, agony, and the like, and which does violence to the body with methods like poisons or weapons, or hanging oneself or jumping from a cliff, is a “fool’s death.”

In Jain thought, an “impure” death by suicide involves an increase in the passions; a “pure” death, as in sallekhana, does not. This is an important distinction for Jain theology; passions are seen as a direct cause of the influx of karma impurities to the soul and they thus result in rebirth at a lower level, while a passionless state of mind leads to both the cessation of the accumulation of karma and the destruction of existing karma that is already attached to one’s soul. Thus, in Jain belief, by liberating oneself from the passions, one liberates the soul. Further, sallekhana is to be seen as the ultimate expression of the Jain doctrine of ahimsa or nonviolence, since by ceasing to eat, one stops both the intentional and unintentional destruction of all living beings.

In sallekhana, one gradually reduces one’s intake of food and liquids so that the body is “scoured out” (sallikita) of its negative elements; thus the mind can focus exclusively upon spiritual matters, without disrupting the inner peace within. Sallekhana is to be performed with a sacred formula on one’s lips, and only with the approval of one’s immediate (Jain) spiritual advisor. It must involve “pure means.” It is a peaceful, voluntary, planned religious death, to be undertaken with full joy and calmness of mind. A person may have taken a vow to perform sallekhana well in advance, not knowing when the appropriate time would arrive, but when it does arrive, one seeks leave to do so from one’s teacher or mentor, engages in confession, self-censure, and the ritual of forgiving and asking forgiveness, and enters upon a course of fasting and renunciation that will end in death. Sallekhana may be seen as the logical conclusion to a life dedicated to nonviolence and restraint. Death is not to be sought or wished for, nor may it be tainted by any overt desires concerning rebirth, but it is the expected and accepted outcome of these austerities. A request for leave to undertake sallekhana is not granted lightly; part of the teacher’s role is to determine whether a given individual has in fact attained the degree of spiritual development and discipline required for this sustained practice. Death is to occur while fully conscious, in a state of complete awareness, while in meditation. This is in accord with the “universal prayer” of the Jains:

      Cessation of sorrow,
      Cessation of karmas,
      Death while in meditation,
      The attainment of enlightenment;
      O holy Jina! Friend of the entire universe,
      Let these be mine,
      For I have taken refuge at your feet.

Although originally sallekhana may have been a practice of ascetics, it gradually extended to the laity, and hundreds of inscriptions all over India record and glorify the sallekhana of both male and female Jains, including husband-wife couples. The practice seems to have ceased to play even an ideal role  in lay spirituality by about the 12th century. However, modern Jain communities still sometimes see sallekhana deaths, like that of the great Digambara Jain teacher Shantisagara, who performed the ritual fasting until death in 1955. Somewhat in common with Western medical practices involving voluntary cessation of eating and drinking as a passive alternative to physician-assisted suicide or active euthanasia, sallekhana, also called santhara, is also practiced by some contemporary Jains in extreme old age or terminal illness. Recent legal challenges in contemporary India have raised the issue of whether “fasting to death” is constitutionally protected as a religious practice or is unconstitutional, a “social evil” analogous to the outlawed Hindu practice of sati [q.v. under Bana, Hindu widow, and elsewhere]. Opponents of santhara call it “cold-blooded murder”; proponents say that the Jains who do so “do it consciously to attain enlightenment” and that it is a “religious achievement”; they are emphatic that it not be spoken of as “suicide.” Several hundred Jains, especially in the state of Rajasthan, perform the ritual of sallekhana each year.

The Acaranga Sutra (c. 3rd–2nd centuries B.C.), the earliest known writing on the rules of conduct for mendicant monks and nuns in the Shvetambara tradition, is the first text, or limb, in the Shvetambara canon, which was transmitted orally for centuries. Tradition relates that the knowledge contained in these texts was transmitted by Mahavira directly to his chief mendicant disciples, who then systematized his teachings into the 12 Angas, and that a final redaction was made at the Council of Valabhi in the 5th century A.D. The first and third lessons are about the importance of non-harm (ahimsa) to all living beings and of adhering to vows that one has taken. They provide a context for understanding the lessons regarding how life may end. The third lesson refers literally to cold; in the fourth lesson, the reference to cold is interpreted in the authoritative tradition as reference to potential seduction by a woman. The fourth lesson appears to permit suicide by poison or other means for the mendicant who cannot keep his vows including “the influence of cold,” understood by the authoritative commentaries as being unwillingly seduced by a woman; however, such suicide only puts off the last struggle for nirvana, though it is better than breaking the vow. Ending one’s life by means such as this, however, was permissible for mendicants if they found themselves in circumstances where their vows of chastity would likely be compromised or if their mendicant community would be defamed. Under these conditions, these were not “fool’s deaths” and it would not preclude attaining an auspicious rebirth. A religious death, sallekhana or itvara (the latter consisting in starving oneself while keeping within a limited space), is usually permitted only to those who have undergone preparatory penance, chiefly protracted periods of fasting, over a period of 12 years.

The Upasaka-Dashah (“Ten Lectures on the Religious Profession of a Layman”) is the seventh text in the Shvetambara canon. One of the stories is about Ananda, a rich man who was a lay disciple of Mahavira. Ananda gradually withdraws from his wealth and, following precepts dictated to him by Mahavira, dies the religious death of sallekhana.

The Tattvartha Sutra, attributed to Umasvati/Umasvami (c. 2nd–5th centuries A.D.), insists that the passionless end that the householder seeks in sallekhana is not suicide. The opening line, “The householder courts voluntary death at the end of his life,” is the sutra itself; the remainder is commentary by the Digambara monk Pujyapada (6th century A.D.).

Sources

Acaranga Sutra, “Seventh Lecture, called Liberation,”  in Gaina Sutras, tr. Hermann Jacobi, in Sacred Books of the East, ed. F. Max Müller, Oxford University Press, 1884, Vol. 22, pp. 62-78, reprinted by Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, Delhi, 1989. (Traditionally this Seventh Lecture was considered lost, the lecture called “Liberation” is usually numbered Eight, but Jacobi did not follow this convention.) “Ten Chapters on Lay Attenders:  The Story of Ananda,” as “The Story of Ananda, a Lay Disciple of Mahavira”:  from Padmanabh S. Jaini, The Jaina Path of Purification, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers,  1979, 1988, pp. 233-240, text and translation Hoernle, 1888. Tattvartha Sutra 7:22, from Reality: English Translation of Srimat Pujyapadacarya’s Sarvarthasiddhi, tr. S. A. Jain, Madras: Jwalamalini Trust, 1992, pp. 205-206. Material in introduction from E. Washburn Hopkins, Ethics of India, New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1924, pp. 120-121; Padmanabh S. Jaini, The Jaina Path of Purification, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers,  1979, 1988,  pp.  1, 226-229, 231-232;  Paul Dundas, The Jains, The Library of Religious Beliefs and Practices, eds. John Hinnells and Ninian Smart, London and New York: Routledge, 1992, pp. 155-156, 161, 206-207, 227; S. Settar, Pursuing Death: Philosophy and Practice of Voluntary Termination of Life, Dharwad: Institute of Indian Art History, Karnatak University, 1990, pp. 256-257, Kristi L. Wiley, Historical Dictionary of Jainism, Lanham, MD, Toronto, Oxford, UK: The Scarecrow Press, 2004, pp. 181-182, and personal communications from Kristi L. Wiley and Kim Skoog. Material on court cases from Ammu Kannampilly, “Indian ‘fasting to death’ custom faces court test, AFP (Agence France-Presse), reported March 27, 2011.

 

from ACARANGA SUTRA

THE SEVENTH LECTURE, CALLED LIBERATION

First Lesson

I say: To friendly or hostile (heretics) one should not give food, drink, dainties and spices, clothes, alms-bowls, and brooms; nor exhort these persons to give (such things), nor do them service, always showing the highest respect.  Thus I say [1].  (i)

(A heretic may say): Know this for certain: having or not having received food, &c.  (down to) brooms, having or not having eaten (come to our house), even turning from your way or passing (other houses; we shall supply your wants). Confessing an individual creed, coming and going, he may give, or exhort to give, or do service (but one should not accept anything from him), showing not the slightest respect.  Thus I say.  (2)

Some here are not well instructed as regards the subject of conduct; for desirous of acts, they say: ‘Kill creatures;’ they themselves kill or consent to the killing of others; or they take what has not been given; or they pronounce opinions, e.g. the world exists, the world does not exist, the world is unchangeable, the world is ever changing; the world has a beginning, the world has no beginning; the world has an end, the world has no end; (or with regard to the self and actions): this is well done, this is badly done; this is merit, this is demerit; he is a good man, he is not a good man; there is beatitude, there is no beatitude; there is a hell, there is no hell.  When they thus differ (in their opinions) and profess their individual persuasion, know (that this is all) without reason [2].  Thus they are not well taught, not well instructed in the religion such as it has been declared by the Revered One, who knows and sees with quick discernment.  (One should either instruct the opponent in the true faith) or observe abstinence as regards speech. Thus I say.  (3)

Everywhere [3] sins are admitted; but to avoid them is called my distinction.  For ye who live in a village or in the forest, or not in a village and not in the forest, know the law as it has been declared.  ‘By the Brahman, the wise (Mahâvîra), three [4] vows have been enjoined.’  Noble and tranquil men who are enlightened and exert themselves in these (precepts), are called free from sinful acts.  (4)

Knowing (and renouncing) severally and singly the actions against living beings, in the regions above, below, and on the surface, everywhere and in all ways—a wise man neither gives pain to these bodies, nor orders others to do so, nor assents to their doing so.  Nay, we abhor those who give pain to these bodies.  Knowing this, a wise man should not cause this or any other pain (to any creatures).  Thus I say.  (5)

Second Lesson

A Mendicant may exert himself, or stand or sit or lie in a burying-place or in an empty house or in a mountain cave or in a potter’s workshop.  A householder may approach a mendicant who stays in any of these places, and say unto him: O long-lived Sramana!  I shall give you what I have bought or stolen or taken, though it was not to be taken, nor given, but was taken by force, viz. food, drink, dainties and spices, clothes, an alms-bowl, a plaid, a broom—by acting sinfully against all sorts of living beings; or I shall prepare you snug lodgings; eat (the offered food), dwell (in the prepared house [5]).  (i)

O long-lived Sramana!  A mendicant should thus refuse a householder of good sense and ripe age: O long-lived householder!  I do not approve of thy words, I do not accept thy words, that, for my sake, thou givest unto me what thou hast bought or stolen or taken, though it was not to be taken, nor given, but was taken by force, viz. food, drink, dainties and spices, clothes, an alms-bowl, a plaid, a broom—by acting sinfully against all sorts of living beings; or that thou preparest pleasant lodgings for me.  O long-lived householder!  I have given up this, because it is not to be done.(2) A mendicant may exert himself, &c.  (first sentence of § i): A householder, without betraying his intention, may approach him who stays in some one of the above-mentioned places, and give unto him what has been taken, &c.  (all as above, down to) or prepare  pleasant lodgings, and accommodate the mendicant with food (and lodging).  A mendicant should know it by his own innate intelligence, or through the instruction of the highest (i.e. the Tîrthakaras), forsooth, for my sake injures all sorts of living beings, to give me food, &c., clothes, &c., or to prepare pleasant lodgings.  A mendicant should well observe and understand this, that he may order (the house-holder) not to show such obsequiousness. Thus I say.  (3)

Those who having, with or without the mendicant’s knowledge, brought together fetters [6], become angry (on the monk’s refusal) and will strike him, saying: Beat, kill, cut, burn, roast, tear, rob, despatch, torture him!  But the hero, come to such a lot, will bravely bear it, or tell him the code of conduct, considering that he is of a different habit; or by guarding his speech he should in due order examine the subject, guarding himself.

This has been declared by the awakened ones: The faithful should not give to dissenters food, &c., clothes, &c., nor should they exhort them (to give), nor do them service, always showing the highest respect.  Thus I say.  (4)

Know the law declared by the wise Brâhmana: one should give to one of the same faith food, &c., clothes, &c.,. and one should exhort him (to give) or do him service, always showing the highest respect.  Thus I say.  (5)

Third Lesson

Some are awakened as middle-aged men and exert themselves well, having, as clever men, heard and received the word of the learned [7].  The noble ones have impartially preached the law.  Those who are awakened, should not wish for pleasure, nor do harm, nor desire (any forbidden things).  A person who is without desires and does no harm unto any living beings in the whole world, is called by me ‘unfettered.’  (1)

One free from passions understands perfectly the bright one [8], knowing birth in the upper and nether regions.

‘Bodies increase through nourishment, they are frail in hardships.’  See some whose organs are failing (give way to weakness).

A person who has no desires, cherishes pity.  He who understands the doctrine of sin, is a mendicant who knows the time, the strength, the measure, the occasion, the conduct, the religious precept; he disowns all things not requisite for religious purposes, in time exerts himself, is under no obligations; he proceeds securely (on the road to final liberation) after having cut off both (love and hate) [9].  (2)

A householder approaching a mendicant whose limbs tremble for cold may say:

O long-lived Sramana!  Are you not subject to the influences of your senses?

O long-lived householder!  I am not subject to the influences of my senses.  But I cannot sustain the feeling of cold. Yet it does not become me to kindle or light a fire [10], that I may warm or heat myself; nor (to procure that comfort) through the order of others.

Perhaps after the mendicant has spoken thus, the other kindles or lights a fire that he may warm or heat himself.  But the mendicant should well observe and understand this, that he may order him to show no such obsequiousness. Thus I say.  (3)

Fourth Lesson

A mendicant who is fitted out with three robes [11], and a bowl as fourth (article), will not think: I shall beg for a fourth robe.  He should beg for (clothes) which he wants, and which are permitted by the religious code [12]; he should wear the clothes in the same state in which they are given him; he should neither wash nor dye them, nor should he wear washed or dyed clothes, nor (should he) hide (his garments when passing) through other villages, being careless of dress.  This is the whole duty [13] of one who wears clothes. But know further, that, after winter is gone and the hot season has come, one should leave off the used-up (garment of the three), being clad with an upper and under garment, or with the undermost garment, or with one gown, or with no clothes—aspiring to freedom from bonds [14] Penance suits him.  Knowing what the Revered One has declared, one should thoroughly and in all respects conform to it.  (1)

When it occurs to a blessed [15] mendicant that he suffers pain, and cannot bear the influence of cold, he should not try to obviate these trials, but stand fast in his own self which is endowed with all knowledge [16].  ‘For it is better for an ascetic that he should take poison.’  Even thus he will in due time put an end to existence.  This (way to escape trials) has been adopted by many who were free from delusion; it is good, wholesome, proper, beatifying, meritorious. Thus I say.  (2)

Fifth Lesson

A mendicant who is fitted out with two robes, and a bowl as third (article), will not think: I shall beg for a third robe.  He should beg for robes which are allowed to be begged for; he should wear the clothes, &c. &c. [17]  This is the whole outfit of one who wears clothes.  But know further, that after the winter is gone and the hot season has come, one should leave off the used-up garments; having left off the used-up garments, (one should) be clad with the undermost garment, with a gown [18], or with no clothes at all—aspiring to freedom from bonds.  Penance suits him.  Knowing what the Revered One has declared, one should thoroughly and in all respects conform to it.  (1)

When the thought occurs to a mendicant that through illness he is too weak, and not able to beg from house to house—and on his thus complaining a householder brings food, &c., obtained (without injuring life [19]), and gives it him—then he should, after deliberation, say [20]: O long-lived householder!  It does not become me to eat or drink this food, &c., or (accept) anything else of the same kind.  (2)

A mendicant who has resolved, that he will, when sick, accept the assistance of fellow-ascetics [21] in good health, when they offer (assistance) without being asked, and that vice versa he, when in health, will give assistance to sick fellow-ascetics, offering it without being asked—(he should not deviate from his resolution though he die for want of help).  (3)

Taking the vow to beg (food, &c.) for another (who is sick), and to eat (when sick) what is brought by another; taking the vow to beg, &c., and not to eat what is brought; taking the vow not to beg, &c., but to eat what is brought; taking the vow neither to beg, &c., not to eat what is brought—(one should adhere to that vow).  Practising thus the law as it has been declared, one becomes tranquil, averted from sin, guarded against the allurements of the senses.  Even thus (though sick) he will in due time put an end to existence [22].  This (method) has been adopted by many who were free from delusion; it is good, wholesome, proper, beatifying, meritorious.  Thus I say.  (4)

Sixth Lesson

A mendicant who is fitted out with one robe, and a bowl as second (article), will not think: I shall beg for a second robe.  He should beg for such a robe only as is allowed to be begged for, and he should wear it in the same state as he receives it.  This is, &c. (see lesson 4, § 1).

But when the hot season has come, one should leave off the used-up clothes; one should be clad with one or no garment—aspiring to freedom from bonds.  Knowing what the Revered One, &c. (see lesson 5, § 1).

When the thought occurs to a mendicant; ‘I am myself, alone; I have nobody belonging to me, nor do I belong to anybody,’ then he should thoroughly know himself as standing alone—aspiring to freedom from bonds.  Penance suits him.  Knowing what the Revered One has declared, one should thoroughly and in all respects conform to it.  (1)

A male or female mendicant eating food &c. should not shift (the morsel) from the left jaw to the right jaw, nor from the right jaw to the left jaw, to get a fuller taste of it, not caring for the taste (of it)—aspiring to freedom from bonds. Penance suits him. Knowing what the Revered One has declared, one should thoroughly and in all respects conform to it.  (2)

If this thought occurs to a monk: ‘I am sick and not able, at this time, to regularly mortify the flesh,’ that monk should regularly reduce his food; regularly reducing his food, and diminishing his sins, ‘he should take proper care of his body, being immovable like a beam; exerting himself he dissolves his body [23].’  (3)

Entering a village, or a scot-free town, or a town with an earth-wall, or a town with a small wall, or an isolated town, or a large town, or a sea-town, or a mine, or a hermitage, or the halting-places of processions, or caravans, or a capital [24]—a monk should beg for straw; having begged for straw he should retire with it to a secluded spot.  After having repeatedly examined and cleaned the ground, where there are no eggs, nor living beings, nor seeds, nor sprouts, nor dew, nor water, nor ants, nor mildew, nor waterdrops, nor mud, nor cobwebs—he should spread the straw on it.  Then he should there and then effect (the religious death called) itvara [25].  (4)

This is the truth: speaking truth, free from passion, crossing (the samsâra), abating irresoluteness, knowing all truth and not being known, leaving this frail body, overcoming all sorts of pains and troubles through trust in this (religion), he accomplishes this fearful (religious death).  Even thus he will in due time put an end to existence.  This has been adopted by many who were free from delusion; it is good, wholesome, proper, beatifying, meritorious.  Thus I say.  (5)

Seventh Lesson

To a naked [26] monk the thought occurs: I can bear the pricking of grass, the influence of cold and heat, the stinging of flies and mosquitos; these and other various painful feelings I can sustain, but I cannot leave off the covering of the privities.  Then he may cover his privities with a piece of cloth [27].

A naked monk who perseveres in this conduct, sustains repeatedly these and other various painful feelings: the grass pricks him, heat and cold attack him, flies and mosquitos sting him.  A naked monk (should be) aspiring to freedom from bonds. Penance suits him.  Knowing what the Revered One has declared, one should thoroughly and in all respects conform to it.  (1)

A monk who has come to any of the following resolutions,—having collected food, &c., I shall give of it to other monks, and I shall eat (what they have) brought; (or) having collected food, &c., I shall give of it to other monks, but I shall not eat (what they have) brought; (or) having collected food, &c., I shall not give of it to other monks, but I shall eat (what they have) brought; (or) having collected food, &c., I shall not give of it to other monks, nor eat (what they have) brought; (2) (or) I shall assist a fellow-ascetic with the remnants of my dinner, which is acceptable [28] and remained in the same state in which it was received [29], and I shall accept the assistance of fellow-ascetics as regards the remnants of their dinner, which is acceptable and remained in the same state in which it was received;—(that monk should keep these vows even if he should run the risk of his life) (3)—aspiring to freedom from bonds.  Penance suits him.  Knowing what the Revered One has declared, one should thoroughly conform to it.  (4)

Thus I say.  (5)

Eighth Lesson

The wise ones who attain in due order [30] to one of the unerring states (in which suicide is prescribed), those who are rich in control and endowed with knowledge, knowing the incomparable (religious death, should continue their contemplation).  (1) Knowing the twofold (obstacles, i.e. bodily and mental), the wise ones, having thoroughly learned the law, perceiving in due order (that the time for their death has come), get rid of karman.  (2)

Subduing the passions and living on little food [31], he should endure (hardships).  If a mendicant falls sick, let him again take food.  (3)

He should not long for life, nor wish for death; he should yearn after neither, life or death.  (4)

He who is indifferent and wishes for the destruction of karman, should continue his contemplation.  Becoming unattached internally and externally, he should strive after absolute purity.  (5)

Whatever means one knows for calming one’s own life [32], that a wise man should learn (i.e. practise) in order to gain time (for continuing penance).  (6)

In a village or in a forest, examining the ground and recognising it as free from living beings, the sage should spread the straw [33].  (7)

Without food he should lie down and bear the pains which attack him.  He should not for too long time give way to worldly feelings which overcome him.  (8)

When crawling animals or such as live on high or below, feed on his flesh and blood, he should neither kill them nor rub (the wound).  (9)

Though these animals destroy the body, he should not stir from his position.  After the âsravas have ceased, he should bear (pains) as it he rejoiced in them.  (10)

When the bonds fall off, then he has accomplished his life.

(We shall now describe) a more exalted (method [34]) for a well-controlled and instructed monk.  (11)

This other law has been proclaimed by Gñâtriputra:

He should give up all motions except his own in the thrice-threefold way[35].  (12) He should not lie on sprouts of grass, but inspecting the bare ground he should lie on it.

Without any comfort and food, he should there bear pain.  (13)

When the sage becomes weak in his limbs, he should strive after calmness [36].

For he is blameless, who is well fixed and immovable (in his intention to die).  (14)

He should move to and fro (on his ground), contract and stretch (his limbs) for the benefit of the whole body; or (he should remain quiet as if he were) lifeless.  (15)

He should walk about, when tired of (lying), or stand with passive limbs; when tired of standing, he should sit down.  (16)

Intent on such an uncommon death, he should regulate the motions of his organs. Having attained a place swarming with insects, he should search for a clean spot.  (17)

He should not remain there whence sin would rise.  He should raise himself above (sinfulness), and bear all pains.  (18)

And this is a still more difficult method [37], when one lives according to it: not to stir from one’s place, while checking all motions of the body.  (19)

This is the highest law, exalted above the preceding method:

Having examined a spot of bare ground he should remain there; stay O Brâhmana!  (20)

Having attained a place free from living beings, he should there fix himself.

He should thoroughly mortify his flesh, thinking: There are no obstacles in my body.  (21)

Knowing as long as he lives the dangers and troubles, the wise and restrained (ascetic) should bear them as being instrumental to the dissolution of the body.  (22)

He should not be attached to the transitory pleasures, nor to the greater ones; he should not nourish desire and greed, looking only for eternal praise.  (23)

He should be enlightened with eternal objects [38], and not trust in the delusive power of the gods; A Brâhmana should know of this and cast off all inferiority.  (24)

Not devoted to any of the external objects he reaches the end of his life; thinking that patience is the highest good, he (should choose) one of (the described three) good methods of entering Nirvâna.  (25) Thus I say.

End of the Seventh Lecture, called Liberation.

NOTES:
  1. This and the following paragraph are extremely difficult to translate.  I have translated the words according to the scholiast, and supplied what he supplies; but his interpretation can scarcely be reconciled with the text.
  2. The Gaines do not espouse one of the alternative solutions of the metaphysical and ethical questions; but they are enabled by the syâdvâda to believe in the co-existence of contrary qualities in one and the same thing.
  3. In all other religious sects.
  4. Gâma = yâma.  These are, (I) to kill no living being, (2) to speak no untruth, (3) to abstain from forbidden things (theft and sexual pleasures).  Or the three ages of man are intended by gâma, which we have rendered vows.
  5. Later on in the commentary (beginning of the sixth lesson) this is called udgamotpâdanishanâ.
  6. The above-detailed benefactions.
  7. The scholiast says that there are three classes of the awakened: the Svayambuddha, the Pratyekabuddha, and the Buddhabodhita.  The last only is treated of in the text.
  8.  i.e. self control.
  9. The latter part of this paragraph is nearly identical with lecture 2, lesson 5, § 3, to which we refer the reader for the explanation of the dark phrases.
  10. The original has fire-body, which the faithful are enjoined not to injure; see lecture 2, lesson 4.
  11. The three robes allowed to a Gaina monk are two linen under garments (kshaumikakalpa) and one woolen upper garment (aurnikakalpa).  Besides these (kalpatraya), the monk possesses, 2. an alms-bowl (pâtra) with six things belonging to it, 3. a broom (ragoharana), 4. a veil for the mouth (mukhavastrikâ). The alms-bowl and the articles belonging to it are specialised in the following gâthâ: pattam pattâbamdho pâyatthavanamka pâyakesariyâ I padalâi rayattânamka gokkhao pâyaniggogo II
  12. Things, &c.: this is the meaning of the technical term ahesanigga yathaishanîya, allowed objects of begging.
  13. Literally, outfit.  Cf. II, 5, 2, § I.
  14. i.e. freedom from worldly cares and interest.
  15. Vasumam: rich (in control).
  16. But he should not in order to escape these trials, commit such suicide as is only permitted to ascetics who have reached the highest degree of perfection, when they are ripe for Nirvâna.  Suicide only puts off the last struggle for Nirvâna; but it is better than breaking the vow.
  17. See lesson 4, § I.
  18. The MSS.  Are at variance with each other in adapting the words of the former lesson to the present case.  As the commentaries are no check, and do not explain our passage, I have selected what seemed to me to be the most likely reading.
  19. Abhihada=abhyâhrita: it is a typical attribute of objectionable things.  The commentator explains it here by gîvopamardanivritta.
  20. The original has only âloeggâ, he should examine whether the food &c. is acceptable or not.  This is called the grahanaishanâ.
  21. Sâhammiya=sâdharmika, one who follows the same rule in cases where different rules are left to the option of the mendicants.  The word abhikamkha=abhikâṅkshya is not translated, the commentator makes it out to mean, wishing for freedom from sinful acts.
  22. As in the preceding lesson a man who cannot conquer his sensuality, is permitted to commit suicide (by hanging himself, &c.), in order to put an end to his trials and temptations, so in this lesson a man whose sickness prevents him from persevering in a life of austerities, is permitted to commit suicide by rejecting food and drink.  This is called bhaktapânapratyâkhyânamukti.  It seems therefore to have been regarded as leading to final liberation (mukti).
  23. There is no finite verb in this sentence, nor any word which could supply its place. The old Gaina authors were so accustomed to surround their meaning with exclusions and exceptions, and to fortify it with a maze of parentheses, that they sometimes apparently forgot to express the verb, especially when they made use of fragments of old verses, as in the present case.
  24. This is one of the most frequent gamas or identical passages which form a rather questionable ornament of the Sûtra style. The gamas are usually abbreviated, e.g. villages, &c., all down to capital, or eggs, &c., all down to cobwebs, which we shall presently meet with.
  25. Itvara or iṅgitamarana consists in starving oneself, while keeping within a limited space. A religious death is usually permitted only to those who have during twelve years undergone preparatory penance, consisting chiefly in protracted periods of fasting. The scholiast says that in our case the itvara is not enjoined for sick persons who can mo longer sustain austerities; but they should act as if they were to commit the itvara suicide, hoping that in five or six days the sickness would leave them in which case they are to return to their former life. But if they should not get better but die, it is all for the best.
  26. Akela.
  27. This is the katibandhana or kolapattaka; it should be four fingers broad and one hasta long.
  28. Ahesanigga: it had those qualities which are required of a thing the mendicant may accept.
  29. Ahâpariggahiya=ahâparigrihîta.
  30. The preceding lessons treated of suicide conceded to sick persons as a means of entering Nirvâna.  The eighth lesson, which is written in slokas, describes the different kinds of religious deaths which form the end of a twelve-years’ mortification of the flesh (samlekhanâ).  But the ascetic must ask and get the permission of his Guru, before he commits suicide.
  31. Compare lecture 7, lesson 6, § 3.
  32. i.e. for preserving the life, when too severe penance brings on sickness and the probability of instant death.
  33. Here commences the description of the bhaktapratyâkhyâ–namarana, suicide by rejecting food.
  34. Viz. the ingitamarana, which differs from the preceding one by the restriction of the motions of the candidate for suicide to a limited space.
  35. i.e. of body, speech, and mind; doing, or causing, or allowing to be done.
  36. He should not give way to melancholy thoughts.
  37. It is called pâovagamana, translated by the commentators pâdapopagamana, remaining motionless like a felled tree.  This etymology, which is generally adopted by the Gainas, is evidently wrong; for the Sanskrit prototype is the Brahmanical Prâyopagamana.
  38. This is the scholiast’s interpretation of nimamteggâ nimantrayet.

 

from THE UPSAKA-DASHAH

TEN CHAPTERS ON LAY ATTENDERS

The Story of Ānanda

During the time of Mahāvīra, in a city called Vāņijagrāma, capital of the Licchavi nation, there lived a householder called Ānanda.  He was a very prosperous man, with wealth unequalled by any person in that city.  He possessed forty million measures of gold buried in a safe place, another forty million put out at interest, a well-stocked estate of equivalent value, and forty thousand cattle divided into four herds.  Ānanda was consulted by numerous kings and merchants with regard to every sort of business.  He was the pillar of his family, ministering to them and guiding them in all matters.  His wife was called Śivānandā—a woman dear to her husband, devoted, attached, and loving.  The two of them lived together very happily as house holders.  Their respective families too, being large and well-established, lived in pleasure and contentment.

At that time the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra visited Vāņijagrāma and took up residence in a park outside the city. Large numbers of people, together with their king, went to pay their respects and listen to his sermons. The householder Ānanda, having heard this news, reflected thus: “Truly the venerable one is staying here on a visit.  This is a most auspicious event.  Let me go to pay my respects.”

Having made this decision he bathed, adorned himself with his finest clothing, and went out on foot, surrounded by a great retinue and protected by an umbrella held over his head.  Walking all the way through the city, he arrived at the park; there, Mahāvīra was residing in a caitya (temple) called Dvipalāsa. Approaching this spot, Ānanda circumambulated the sage three times and, having thus expressed his veneration, sat down to listen to the sermon. Then the venerable Mahāvīra expounded the law to the householder Ānanda, and to the large company of people present on that occasion.  When the congregation had departed, Ānanda, pleased and elated, spoke thus:

Venerable sir, I believe in the doctrine of the Niganthas; I am convinced of the Nigantha doctrine; I am delighted with it. It is so, sir, it is exactly so. It is true. It is what I accept. Indeed, sir, it is  really so, just as you have declared it. Venerable sir, although many  nobles, bankers, and merchants have, upon hearing your sermon, renounced the household life and entered the monastic state, I, sir, cannot do the same. But I will, in your presence, take upon myself the twelve-fold restraint of a householder, consisting of  the five anuvratas, three guņavratas, and the four śikşāvratas.  May it so please you, venerable sir, not to deny me this honor.

Then the householder Ānanda, in the presence of venerable ascetic Mahāvīra, renounced all gross forms of injury to living beings, saying: “As long as I live… [see Chapter VI, n. 35] I will not do it, nor cause it to be done, either in thought, word, or deed.”

Next he renounced all grossly lying speech and all gross taking of things not given; he also limited himself to contentment with his wife and restricted his possessions by pledging not to accumulate further wealth in any form. Similarly, he renounced the various kinds of activities dealt with by the other vratas. At this point the venerable Mahāvīra addressed Ānanda, saying: “Truly, Ānanda, you have now become a disciple of the ascetic [śramaņopāsaka]; you must now be aware of the transgressions pertaining to all twelve vratas, and must avoid them.”

Then the household Ānanda, having formally taken the vows administered to him, praised and worshiped the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra and solemnly spoke to him thus:

Truly, venerable sir, it does not befit me, from this day forward, to praise or worship any     man of a heterodox community, or any of the objects of reverence of a heterodox community.  Neither should I address nor converse with one of their teachers unless he first addresses me, nor give food or drink to such teachers, except if it be required by the king, or by the elders, or by the exigencies of life.  On the other hand, it behooves me, venerable sir, to devote myself to providing the ascetics of the Nigaņţha faith with pure and acceptable food and other provisions permitted to them: clothes, blankets, alms bowls, medicines, and the like.

Having thus promised and having engaged in religious discourse with his teacher, Ānanda respectfully took leave of the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra and returned from the park to his home.  Calling his wife to him, he said:

Truly, beloved of the gods, I have listened to the law in the presence of the venerable  ascetic Mahāvīra, and that dharma is what I desire, what I accept, what I am pleased by. So now, beloved of the gods, go and praise the venerable ascetic and listen to his sermon, and take upon thyself in his presence the twelve-fold restraint of the householder.

Then Śivānandā did as he said, receiving the same vratas in a similar manner as had her husband. After some time, the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra went away to a different part of the country.  Ānanda and Śivānandā, having become his disciples, devoted themselves to mindfully keeping their vows and honoring the Nigaņţha mendicants with due charity. Fourteen years passed thus, during which time the śramaņopāsaka Ānanda trained himself with constant exercise in the moral restraints imposed by his vows, as well as in those called for under the various seasonal abstentions. Then, during one night in the fifteenth year of his discipline, as he reflected upon his progress, it occurred to him:

Truly I am the support of numerous families in this city; I have many responsibilities. But because of this situation I have been hindered from living in complete conformity with the teachings and restraints received in the presence of the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra.  It is better, indeed, that after sunrise tomorrow I should place my eldest son in charge of my household; then I may repair to the fasting hall of my community and live there, leading a life in which I fully observe the vratas of a householder.

Accordingly, on the next morning he invited all his friends and relatives to his home and fed them abundantly.  The meal completed, he appointed his son the head of the family, and addressed them all, saying: “Do not thou, my beloved son, nor you, my dear friends, any of you, from this day onwards, ask me or consult me regarding any of the manifold affairs with which I was hitherto connected.  Nor should you cook or prepare any food for my sake.”  Then Ānanda took leave of his friends and kinsmen, went out of the house, and walked to a suburb of the city in which was located the fasting hall belonging to his own community.  He swept the grounds of hall, spread a bed of grass, and placed himself upon it.  He continued to live there, in accord with the rules, taking one after another of the eleven pratimās for a full period of five-and-a-half years; he persevered in the performance of ascetic practices (mainly fasting), and became extremely thin.  Then Ānanda reflected as follows:

Truly, though these ascetic exercises, I have become reduced to a skeleton.  While there  is still within me the vigor and energy of faith, therefore, I should, after sunrise tomorrow, devote myself to a determined sallekhanā that ends in death, renouncing all   food and drink and patiently awaiting my end.

Then the śramaņopāsaka Ānanda, by reason of his splendid transformation and the purity of his extraordinary resolution, gained a supernatural vision which enabled him to see, from where he sat, and area of five-hundred yojanas (a yojana is eight or nine miles) across the earth, as well as upwards to the first heaven and downwards to the first hell.

Now it happened that at that very time the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra again arrived in Vāņijagrāma for a visit, accompanied by his gaņadhara, the venerable Indrabhūti Gautama.  This Gautama was given to the habit of taking food only once every six days.  On one such day he went around the city with his begging bowl, moving from house to house collecting alms.  There he heard from various people of the great austerities of the householder Ānanda and about his vow of sallekhanā.  The venerable Gautama decided to go and see him, and so proceeded to the place where Ānanda was residing in seclusion.  When Ānanda saw the venerable Gautama approaching, his heart was filled with happiness and he spoke to him thus:

Truly, venerable sir, I have now become, through my vratas, reduced to a skeleton.  I am therefore unable to come forward into your presence in order to salute you and bow my head to your feet.  So please, venerable sir, graciously take the trouble to come near me so that I may do so.

And when the venerable Gautama had approached, Ānanda respectfully saluted him and asked: “is it so, venerable sir, that a householder, one who has not become a monk, can indeed win the power of supernatural sight?”

And Gautama answered, “Yes, it is so.”

Then Ānanda continued: “if that is so, venerable sir, I would like to inform you that I can see an area of five hundred yojanas across the earth, and upwards to the first heaven, and downwards to the first hell.”

Then the venerable Gautama said to Ānanda, the disciple of the ascetic: “I do maintain, Ānanda, that a householder can indeed possess supernatural sight, but not to such and extent as you claim. Therefore, Ānanda, it is only fitting that you should acknowledge your infraction in this matter [exaggeration, a violation of the satya-vrata] and perform a penance in expiation.”  Then the householder Ānanda answered: “Is it required by the law of Jina, sir, that one should take upon oneself a penance for speaking of things which are real and actual?”

Gautama replied, “No, it is not so required.”

And Ānanda said: “If, sir, what you have said is true, then you, venerable one, should indeed yourself acknowledge an infraction in this matter and undertake a penance in expiation thereof.”

Then the venerable Gautama, having been spoken to thus by Ānanda the householder, was unsettled and filled with doubt.  He departed from that place and returned to the Dvipalāsa caitya, where the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra was residing. Having reported the entire incident, he asked: “Venerable sir, tell me, is it for Ānanda, your lay disciple, to acknowledge his transgression in this matter and to take a penance upon himself, or is it for me to do so?”

Then the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra, turning to Gautama, said without hesitation: “Indeed Gautama, it is you who should acknowledge transgression in this matter and take a penance upon yourself. And you should forgive his rudeness in contradicting you.” The venerable Gautama, saying “so be it,” humbly accepted the decision of the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra.  Having done so, he acknowledged his transgression, took an expiation upon himself, and forgave Ānanda.

Mahāvīra and his gaņadharas then went away to live in another place. At that time the śramaņopāsaka Ānanda, having persevered for twenty years as a lay servant of the ascetic and having conscientiously observed the twelve vratas and eleven pratimās of a layman, undertook the course of sallekhanā, which ends in death, for a period of one month.  During this period he consumed only water. At the end of the month, having confessed his transgressions and begged forgiveness of all beings, he sank into deep meditation and thus attained his mortal end. He was reborn as a celestial being in the first heaven.

When the venerable Gautama came to know of this, he inquired of the venerable ascetic Mahāvīra: “Venerable sir, Ānanda the heavenly being, upon making his descent from the world of the gods, after the termination of his life in heaven, will be reborn in what realm?”

And Mahāvīra replied: “Gautama, he will take human form in the great Videha country, and there he will attain to arhatship.”

 

TATTVARTHA SUTRA

PASSIONLESS END IS NOT SUICIDE

The householder courts voluntary death at the end of his life.

The loss of the senses and the vitalities at the end of one’s duration of life acquired by one’s own dispositions is death. The end refers to the particular state of existence. That which has death as the end is maraņāntah. That which has death as its object is māraņāntikῑ. To make the body and the passions thin is salelkhanā.

Sallekhanā is making the physical body and the internal passions emaciated by abandoning their sources gradually at the approach of death. The householder observes sallekhanā at the end of his life. ‘Joşitā’ means observing it with pleasure. Hence sevitā, though clear in meaning, is not used. If there be no willingness, sallekhanā cannot be forced on one.  If there is liking for it one does it oneself.

It is argued that it is suicide, since there is voluntary severance of life etc. No, it is not suicide, as there is no passion.  njury consists in the destruction of life actuated by passion. Without attachment etc. there is no passion in this undertaking. A person, who kills himself by means of poison, weapons, etc., swayed by attachment, aversion or infatuation, commits suicide. But he who practises holy death is free from desire, anger and delusion.  Hence it is not suicide. “It has been taught by Lord Jina that the absence of attachment and the other passions is non-injury and that the rise of feelings of attachment and the other passions is injury.” For instance, a merchant collects commodities for sale and stores them. He does not welcome the destruction of his storehouse. The destruction of the storehouse is against his wishes. And, when some danger threatens the storehouse, he tries to safeguard it. But if he cannot avert the danger, he tries to save the commodities at least from ruin. Similarly, a householder is engaged in acquiring the commodity of vows and supplementary vows. And he does not desire the ruin of the receptacle of these virtues, namely the body. But when serious danger threatens the body, he tries to avert it in a righteous manner without violating his vows. In case it is not possible to avert danger to the body, he tries to safeguard his vows at least. How can such a procedure be called suicide?

Comments Off on THE JAIN TRADITION
(599-527 B.C. to 5th century A.D.)

Acaranga Sutra: The Seventh Lecture,    called Liberation
Upasaka-Dashah: Ten Chapters on Lay    Attenders: The Story of Ananda
Tattvartha Sutra: Passionless End is    Not Suicide

Filed under Ancient History, Asia, Jain Tradition, Selections

by | · 6:21 pm

DHARMASHASTRA
(c. 600 B.C.—c. 200 A.D.)

Gautama Sutra
Apastamba Sutra
Vasishtha Sutra
Laws of Manu
Vishnu Smriti

 

The shastras in Sanskrit Hindu literature are the textbooks of religious and legal duty. Shastra literally means “rule, command, code of laws, science,” and these works focus on many different subjects, including the three principal goals for human beings: dharma (law), artha (wealth, profit, business, or property), and kama (passion, desire, pleasure). The Dharmashastra concerns dharma, a concept that incorporates the nature of the world, eternal or cosmic law, and social law, applied to rituals and life-cycle rites, procedures for resolving disputes, and penalties for violations of these rules; the Arthashastra concerns economic affairs; and the Kamashastra concerns love generally and pleasure in particular. (The best known of its component works in the Western world is the Kama sutra, though contrary to popular belief, it is not a “sex book”). These texts are composed of books from individual schools of Vedic and Sanskrit commentary, each school often contributing a sutra named for the school. The Dharmashastra includes the following dharmasutras: Gautama, Baudhayana, Apastamba, Vasishtha, Vishnu, and Vikhanas, as well as the metrical Laws of Manu.

The shastras, including the Dharmashastra, are classified as smriti, a word indicating “what is remembered,” as distinct from the Vedas and the Upanishads [q.v.], which are shruti, “what is heard.” The Vedas and the Upanishads are considered to be divinely perceived—that is, the early seers were held to have perceived eternal truths—and the Dharmashastra, as well as other smriti texts, are the thoughts and explanations of Hindu scholars in response to the shruti books. Chronologically, the sutras of the Dharmahshastra follow sometime after the Vedic period, but these works have been notoriously difficult to date. Most scholars agree, however, that the first three sutras from which selections are included in this volume, Gautama, Apastamba, and Vasishtha, fall sometime between the 6th century B.C. and the 1st century B.C., while the Laws of Manu probably date from between about 200 B.C. to 200 A.D. From the time of their composition, the works of the Dharmashastra have played a significant role in influencing Hindu culture and law. In fact, the shastras were still being cited in cases of legal contracts as late as the mid-19th century in some regions of India.

The Gautama Dharmasutra, the oldest of the texts of the Dharmashastra, probably composed sometime between 600 and 400 B.C., concerns the sources of dharma, standards for both students and the uninitiated, the four stages of life, dietary rules, penance, rules concerning impurity, and many other regulations and rituals for Hindu life. The section presented here concerns impurity and holds that after the burial of a suicide victim who voluntarily sought death, purity (rather than impurity) follows for their relatives.

The Dharmasutra of Apastamba was most likely composed sometime between 450 and 350 B.C. It is an extensive work with many aphoristic verses and meticulously detailed rituals for daily life. Some of the prominent subject matter includes rules about marriage and married life, forbidden foods and dietary regulations, ritual purity, property laws, rebirth, and various penances. This sutra details various methods of self-destruction that will exculpate violators of certain Hindu laws—fornication with the wife of a religious teacher, drinking alcohol, theft, or murder of a high-caste man—and relieve them of their impurity. It also includes contrary rules, including a prohibition of self-killing.

The Vasishtha Dharmasutra was probably written sometime between 300 and 100 B.C. This sutra is known for its sections on adoption, but it also concerns justice, legal testimony, inheritance, interest rates, and other matters of social law. Several issues surrounding suicide are raised in the text, including penances for those who contemplate suicide or fail in an attempt at self-killing; these are unpermitted suicides. As in the Apastamba sutra, which it echoes, suicide can also be an act of expiation for unlawful behavior, restoring one to purity after death.

The Laws of Manu are perhaps the most famous part of the Dharmashastra, composed in the later part of the Epic Period and often given separate recognition because of their unique metrical style. The Laws of Manu articulate extensive regulations for many aspects of Hindu life, including rules governing religious offerings, purifications, rites, and many other religious and social practices. This code, like Hindu thought generally, distinguishes between unpermitted and permitted suicides. In Book V, suicides are grouped with heretics, those who fail to perform the appropriate religious rites, and those of mixed caste: libations may not be offered to them. In Book VI, the code compares the person who is alive to a servant awaiting payment from his master (an analogy also employed by Plato [q.v.], though yielding a differing conclusion), explaining that one should neither “desire to die“ nor “desire to live.” In many of their other passages, however, the Laws of Manu emphasize the value of leaving the body and becoming free of its pains and torment, as well as achieving full liberation from worldliness and desire. Books VI and XI address the means by which the Brahmana or renouncer should separate himself from his body. Based on the teaching of the four stages of life, developed in the text in detail, the Laws of Manu hold that, after one has become old and passed through the three previous stages of life—celibate religious discipleship, married householder status, and, after one’s grandchildren are born, retirement to the forest—one should simply walk in a northeasterly direction—in this version, without food or water—until one dies. It is in this stage that one becomes a sanyasin, achieving the highest level of spirituality. This journey that ends in death is often called “the Great Departure.”

Sources

Gautama Dharmasastra Ch. XIV, 9-12; Apastamba Dharmasastra I.9.25, 1-7, 11-12; I.10.28.15-17, tr. Georg Bühler. The Sacred Laws of the Aryas as Taught in the Schools of Apastamba, Gautama, Vasishtha, and Baudhayana. Part I: Apastamba and Gautama. From The Sacred Books of the East, ed. F. Max Müller, Vol. 2., Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1897, p. 250; pp. 82-83. Vasishtha Dharmasastra, ch. XX, 13-14, 41-42; ch. XXIII, 14-19. tr. Georg Bühler. The Sacred Laws of the Aryas as Taught in the Schools of Apastamba, Gautama, Vasishtha, and Baudhayana, Part II: Vasishtha and Baudhayana. From The Sacred Books of the East, ed. F. Max Müller, Vol. 14. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1882, pp. 104, 108, 119. The Laws of Manu, V (89), VI (29-32, 45, 76-79), XI (91-92), tr. Georg Bühler, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1967 (reprint of the 1886 edition). From The Sacred Books of the East, ed. F. Max Müller, Vol. 25. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1886, pp. 184, 203-204, 207, 212, 449. Online at Gautama and Apastamba; Vasishtha; Laws of Manu.

 

 

from DHARMASHASTRA

GAUTAMA SUTRA XIV

(The relatives) of those who are slain for the sake of cows and Brâhmanas (become pure) immediately after the burial . . .
And (those of men destroyed) by the anger of the king . . .
(Further, those of men killed) in battle . . .
Likewise (those) of men who voluntarily (die) by starving themselves to death, by weapons, fire, poison, or water, by hanging themselves, or by jumping (from a precipice).

 

APASTAMBA SUTRA I.9.25, I.10.28.17

He who has had connection with a Guru’s wife shall cut off his organ together with the testicles, take them into his joined hands and walk towards the south without stopping, until he falls down dead.

Or he may die embracing a heated metal image of a woman.

A drinker of spirituous liquor shall drink exceedingly hot liquor so that he dies.

A thief shall go to the king with flying hair, carrying a club on his shoulder, and tell him his deed. He (the king) shall give him a blow with that (club). If the thief dies, his sin is expiated.

If he is forgiven (by the king), the guilt falls upon him who forgives him,

Or he may throw himself into the fire, or perform repeatedly severe austerities,

Or he may kill himself by diminishing daily his portion of food…

(A man of any caste) excepting the first, who has slain a man of the first caste, shall go on a battle-field and place himself (between the two hostile armies). There they shall kill him (and thereby he becomes pure).

Or such a sinner may tear from his body and make the priest offer as a burnt-offering his hair, skin, flesh, and the rest, and then throw himself into the fire. . . .

. . . But the violator of a Guru’s bed shall enter a hollow iron image and, having caused a fire to be lit on both sides, he shall burn himself.

According to Hârita, this (last-mentioned penance must) not (be performed).

For he who takes his own or another’s life becomes an Abhisasta [outcaste].

 

VASISHTHA SUTRA XX, XXIII

He who violates a Guru’s bed shall cut off his organ, together with the testicles, take them into his joined hands and walk towards the south wherever he meets with an obstacle (to further progress), there he shall stand until he dies:

Or, having shaved all his hair and smeared his body with clarified butter, he shall embrace the heated (iron) image (of a woman). It is declared in the Veda that he is purified after death. . . .

If a man has stolen gold belonging to a Brâhmana, he shall run, with flying hair, to the king, (exclaiming) ‘Ho, I am a thief; sir, punish me!’ The king shall give him a weapon made of Udumbara wood; with that he shall kill himself. It is declared in the Veda that he becomes pure after death.

Or (such a thief) may shave off all his hair, anoint his body with clarified butter, and cause himself to be burnt from the feet upwards, in a fire of dry cowdung. It is declared in the Veda that he becomes pure after death. . . .

For him who committing suicide becomes An Abhisasta, his blood-relations (sapinda) shall not perform the funeral rites.

He is called a suicide who destroys himself by means of wood, water, clods of earth, stones, weapons, poison, or a rope.

Now they quote also (the following verse): ‘The twice-born man who out of affection performs the last rites for a suicide, shall perform a Kândrâyana penance together with a Taptakrikkhra.’

We shall describe the Kândrâyana below.

A fast of three days (must be performed) for resolving to die by one’s own hand.

‘He who attempts suicide, but remains alive, shall perform a Krikkhra penance during twelve days. (Afterwards) he shall fast for three (days and) nights, being dressed constantly in a garment smeared (with clarified butter), and suppressing his breath, he shall thrice recite the Aghamarshana.’

 

LAWS OF MANU V, VI

Libations of water shall not be offered to those who (neglect the prescribed rites and may be said to) have been born in vain, to those born in consequence of an illegal mixture of the castes, to those who are ascetics (of heretical sects), and to those who have committed suicide . . .

These and other observances must a Brahmana who dwells in the forest diligently practise, and in order to attain complete (union with) the (supreme) Soul, (he must study) the various sacred texts contained in the Upanishads,

(As well as those rites and texts) which have been practised and studied by the sages (Rishis), and by Brahmana householders, in order to increase their knowledge (of Brahman), and their austerity, and in order to sanctify their bodies;

Or let him walk, fully determined and going straight on, in a north-easterly direction, subsisting on water and air, until his body sinks to rest.

A Brahmana, having got rid of his body by one of those modes practised by the great sages, is exalted in the world of Brahman, free from sorrow and fear. . . .

Let him not desire to die, let him not desire to live; let him wait for (his appointed) time, as a servant (waits) for the payment of his wages. . . .

Let him quit this dwelling, composed of the five elements, where the bones are the beams, which is held together by tendons (instead of cords), where the flesh and the blood are the mortar, which is thatched with the skin, which is foul-smelling, filled with urine and ordure, infested by old age and sorrow, the seat of disease, harassed by pain, gloomy with passion, and perishable.

He who leaves this body, (be it by necessity) as a tree (that is torn from) the river-bank, or (freely) like a bird (that) quits a tree, is freed from the misery (of this world, dreadful like) a shark.

Making over (the merit of his own) good actions to his friends and (the guilt of) his evil deeds to his enemies, he attains the eternal Brahman by the practice of meditation.

 

VISHNU SMRITI XXV

Now the duties of a woman (are as follows)…After the death of her husband, to preserve her chastity, or to ascend the pile after him.

Comments Off on DHARMASHASTRA
(c. 600 B.C.—c. 200 A.D.)

Gautama Sutra
Apastamba Sutra
Vasishtha Sutra
Laws of Manu
Vishnu Smriti

Filed under Ancient History, Asia, Dharmashastra, Hinduism, Selections

by | · 6:00 pm

HOMER
(c. 8th century B.C.)

from The Iliad: The Deaths of Hector and Achilles

 

Homer is the traditional name given to the author(s) of the Iliad and the Odyssey, epic poems that were written down in a dialect known as Homeric Greek sometime around the 8th century B.C. No certain biographical information about Homer is known today. It is disputed whether Homer was one person, when he lived, and how the oral poems came into their current written form. The Iliad and the Odyssey represent the height of the ancient Greek oral tradition of epics and other poems that would have originally been circulated and performed by generations of rhapsodes.

The Iliad, from which this excerpt is drawn, chronicles the Trojan War, a ten-year war fought between the Greek city-states and Troy, traditionally thought to have occurred sometime around the 12th century B.C.. Homer’s poem concerns itself with the “wrath” of the great warrior Achilles, who as part of his quarrel with King Agamemnon chooses to abstain from battle and allow the Greek army to be temporarily defeated, with the help of the god Zeus, in the absence of his singular fighting abilities. For Achilles, abstention from battle also means the delay of his own death, prophesied to take place on the battlefield should he decide to fight at Troy. When Achilles does eventually re-enter the war, it is in order to kill the Trojan heir, Hector, in revenge for Hector’s slaughter of Achilles’ close friend Patroclus.

As they approach to fight one another, both Achilles and Hector are submitting to the form of death they regard as honorable: Hector to his most likely death at the hands of Achilles, and Achilles to his eventual death at Troy, which, he is told, will take place soon after he kills Hector. At the time portrayed in Book 9, Achilles had revealed his knowledge of the prophecy  and expressed his intention to leave Troy immediately, thereby avoiding its fulfillment; by the  time of Book 18, Achilles instead wishes to die because he could not save Patroclus, whom he  loved “as dearly” as his own life. Achilles is informed that his death is sure to occur should he  take his revenge on Hector. Meanwhile, in Book 22, Hector’s parents beg him not to sacrifice himself by fighting Achilles alone and instead return to the safety of the city. Hector’s concern  is with his own honor, however, and guilt for the men who were killed by Achilles on the first  night Achilles came for him. Thus, both warriors respectively choose courses of action they  know will result in their own deaths. When, with his dying breath, Hector again foretells Achilles’ death, Achilles replies that he will accept his fate “whensoever Zeus and the other gods see fit to send it.”

Source

Homer, The Iliad of Homer: rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the original, tr. Samuel Butler, London, New York, and Bombay: Longmans, Green and Co., 1898. Available online at Perseus Digital Library and Internet Archive. Troy is referred to as Ilius and Zeus as Jove in the original translation; other names have been changed from Roman to Greek and minor typographical errors have been repaired.

 

from THE ILIAD

Book 9

Achilles answered, “. . . My life means more to me than all the wealth of Ilion while it was yet at peace before the Achaeans went there, or than all the treasure that lies on the stone floor of Apollo’s temple beneath the cliffs of Pytho. Cattle and sheep are to be had for harrying, and a man can buy both tripods and horses if he wants them, but when his life has once left him it can neither be bought nor harried back again.

My mother Thetis tells me that there are two ways in which I may meet my end. If I stay here and fight, I shall lose my safe homecoming but I will have a glory that is unwilting: whereas if I go home my glory will die, but it will be a long time before the outcome of death shall take me. To the rest of you, then, I say, ‘Go home, for you will not take Ilion.’ Zeus has held his hand over her to protect her, and her people have taken heart. Go, therefore, as in duty bound, and tell the princes of the Achaeans the message that I have sent them; tell them to find some other plan for the saving of their ships and people, for so long as my displeasure lasts the one that they have now hit upon may not be. As for Phoenix, let him sleep here that he may sail with me in the morning. . . .”

 

Book 18

[Achilles’] mother went up to him as he lay groaning; she laid her hand upon his head and spoke piteously, saying, “My son, why are you thus weeping? What sorrow has now befallen you? Tell me; hide it not from me. Surely Zeus has granted you the prayer you made him, when you lifted up your hands and besought him that the Achaeans might all of them be pent up at their ships, and rue it bitterly in that you were no longer with them.”

Achilles groaned and answered, “Mother, Olympian Zeus has indeed vouchsafed me the fulfillment of my prayer, but what boon is it to me, seeing that my dear comrade Patroclus has fallen—he whom I valued more than all others, and loved as dearly as my own life? I have lost him; aye, and Hector when he had killed him stripped the wondrous armor, so glorious to behold, which the gods gave to Peleus when they laid you in the couch of a mortal man. Would that you were still dwelling among the immortal sea-nymphs, and that Peleus had taken to himself some mortal bride. For now you shall have grief infinite by reason of the death of that son whom you can never welcome home—nay, I will not live nor go about among humankind unless Hector fall by my spear, and thus pay me for having slain Patroclus son of Menoetius.”

Thetis wept and answered, “Then, my son, is your end near at hand—for your own death awaits you full soon after that of Hector.”

Then said Achilles in his great grief, “I would die here and now, in that I could not save my comrade. He has fallen far from home, and in his hour of need my hand was not there to help him. What is there for me? Return to my own land I shall not, and I have brought no saving neither to Patroclus nor to my other comrades of whom so many have been slain by mighty Hector; I stay here by my ships a bootless burden upon the earth, I, who in fight have no peer among the Achaeans, though in council there are better than I.

Therefore, perish strife both from among gods and men, and anger, wherein even a righteous man will harden his heart—which rises up in the soul of a man like smoke, and the taste thereof is sweeter than drops of honey. Even so has Agamemnon angered me. And yet—so be it, for it is over; I will force my soul into subjection as I needs must; I will go; I will pursue Hector who has slain him whom I loved so dearly, and will then abide my doom when it may please Zeus and the other gods to send it. Even Hercules, the best beloved of Zeus—even he could not escape the hand of death, but fate and Hera’s fierce anger laid him low, as I too shall lie when I am dead if a like doom awaits me. Till then I will win fame, and will bid Trojan and Dardanian women wring tears from their tender cheeks with both their hands in the grievousness of their great sorrow; thus shall they know that he who has held aloof so long will hold aloof no longer. Hold me not back, therefore, in the love you bear me, for you shall not move me.”

 

Book 22

Priam raised a cry and beat his head with his hands as he lifted them up and shouted out to his dear son, imploring him to return; but Hector still stayed before the gates, for his heart was set upon doing battle with Achilles. The old man reached out his arms towards him and bade him for pity’s sake come within the walls. “Hector,” he cried, “my son, stay not to face this man alone and unsupported, or you will meet death at the hands of the son of Peleus, for he is mightier than you. Monster that he is; would indeed that the gods loved him no better than I do, for so, dogs and vultures would soon devour him as he lay stretched on earth, and a load of grief would be lifted from my heart, for many a brave son has he reft from me, either by killing them or selling them away in the islands that are beyond the sea: even now I miss two sons from among the Trojans who have thronged within the city, Lycaon and Polydoros, whom Laothoe peerless among women bore me. Should they be still alive and in the hands of the Achaeans, we will ransom them with gold and bronze, of which we have store, for the old man Altes endowed his daughter richly; but if they are already dead and in the house of Hades, sorrow will it be to us two who were their parents; albeit the grief of others will be more short-lived unless you too perish at the hands of Achilles. Come, then, my son, within the city, to be the guardian of Trojan men and Trojan women, or you will both lose your own life and afford a mighty triumph to the son of Peleus. Have pity also on your unhappy father while life yet remains to him—on me, whom the son of Kronos will destroy by a terrible doom on the threshold of old age, after I have seen my sons slain and my daughters hauled away as captives, my bridal chambers pillaged, little children dashed to earth amid the rage of battle, and my sons’ wives dragged away by the cruel hands of the Achaeans; in the end fierce hounds will tear me in pieces at my own gates after some one has beaten the life out of my body with sword or spear-hounds that I myself reared and fed at my own table to guard my gates, but who will yet lap my blood and then lie all distraught at my doors. When a young man falls by the sword in battle, he may lie where he is and there is nothing unseemly; let what will be seen, all is honorable in death, but when an old man is slain there is nothing in this world more pitiable than that dogs should defile his gray hair and beard and all that men hide for shame.”

The old man tore his gray hair as he spoke, but he moved not the heart of Hector. His mother hard by wept and moaned aloud as she bared her bosom and pointed to the breast which had suckled him. “Hector,” she cried, weeping bitterly the while, “Hector, my son, spurn not this breast, but have pity upon me too: if I have ever given you comfort from my own bosom, think on it now, dear son, and come within the wall to protect us from this man; stand not without to meet him. Should the wretch kill you, neither I nor your richly dowered wife shall ever weep, dear offshoot of myself, over the bed on which you lie, for dogs will devour you at the ships of the Achaeans.”

Thus did the two with many tears implore their son, but they moved not the heart of Hector, and he stood his ground awaiting huge Achilles as he drew nearer towards him. As a serpent in its den upon the mountains, full fed with deadly poisons, waits for the approach of man—he is filled with fury and his eyes glare terribly as he goes writhing round his den—even so Hector leaned his shield against a tower that jutted out from the wall and stood where he was, undaunted.

“Alas,” said he to himself in the heaviness of his heart, “if I go within the gates, Polydamas will be the first to heap reproach upon me, for it was he that urged me to lead the Trojans back to the city on that awful night when Achilles again came forth against us. I would not listen, but it would have been indeed better if I had done so. Now that my folly has destroyed the host, I dare not look Trojan men and Trojan women in the face, lest a worse man should say, ‘Hector has ruined us by his self-confidence.’ Surely it would be better for me to return after having fought Achilles and slain him, or to die gloriously here before the city. What, again, if I were to lay down my shield and helmet, lean my spear against the wall and go straight up to noble Achilles? What if I were to promise to give up Helen, who was the fountainhead of all this war, and all the treasure that Alexandrus brought with him in his ships to Troy, aye, and to let the Achaeans divide the half of everything that the city contains among themselves? I might make the Trojans, by the mouths of their princes, take a solemn oath that they would hide nothing, but would divide into two shares all that is within the city—but why argue with myself in this way? Were I to go up to him he would show me no kind of mercy; he would kill me then and there as easily as though I were a woman, when I had off my armor. There is no parleying with him from some rock or oak tree as young men and maidens prattle with one another. Better fight him at once, and learn to which of us Zeus will vouchsafe victory.”. . .

. . . Then Hektor said, as the life-breath ebbed out of him, “I pray you by your life and knees, and by your parents, let not dogs devour me at the ships of the Achaeans, but accept the rich treasure of gold and bronze which my father and mother will offer you, and send my body home, that the Trojans and their wives may give me my dues of fire when I am dead.”

Achilles glared at him and answered, “Dog, talk not to me neither of knees nor parents; would that I could be as sure of being able to cut your flesh into pieces and eat it raw, for the ill have done me, as I am that nothing shall save you from the dogs—it shall not be, though they bring ten or twenty-fold ransom and weigh it out for me on the spot, with promise of yet more hereafter. Though Priam son of Dardanus should bid them offer me your weight in gold, even so your mother shall never lay you out and make lament over the son she bore, but dogs and vultures shall eat you utterly up.”

Hector with his dying breath then said, “I know you what you are, and was sure that I should not move you, for your heart is hard as iron; look to it that I bring not heaven’s anger upon you on the day when Paris and Phoebus Apollo, valiant though you be, shall slay you at the Scaean gates.”

When he had thus said the shrouds of death enfolded him, whereon his soul went out of him and flew down to the house of Hades, lamenting its sad fate that it should enjoy youth and strength no longer. But Achilles said, speaking to the dead body, “Die; for my part I will accept my fate whensoever Zeus and the other gods see fit to send it.”

Comments Off on HOMER
(c. 8th century B.C.)

from The Iliad: The Deaths of Hector and Achilles

Filed under Ancient History, Europe, Homer, Selections

by | · 5:38 pm

THE HEBREW BIBLE AND APOCRYPHA
(c. 12th-1st centuries B.C.)

Genesis: The Prohibition of Bloodshed
Exodus: The Ten Commandments
Judges: Samson and the Philistines
I Samuel-II Samuel: Saul and his    Armor-Bearer
Job: The Sufferings of Job
Daniel: Shadrach, Meschach, Abednego    and the Fiery Furnace
II Maccabees: The Suicide of Razis

 

The collection of texts originating among the Hebrews of the first millennium B.C., the Hebrew Bible, generally referred to as the Tanakh by Jews and as the Old Testament by Christians, is a compilation recognized as scriptural in both traditions. It is complex in textual history. Written in classical Hebrew (except for some brief portions in a cognate language, Aramaic), it includes material believed to have been transmitted orally, as well as in written form, spanning over a thousand years of history from the 12th through the 1st century B.C.. No original manuscripts from the earliest period have survived, though the Qumran manuscripts of some sections, known as the Dead Sea Scrolls, date from as early as the 1st century B.C. After the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 A.D., Jewish religious leaders compiled a comprehensive text from those manuscripts that survived the destruction; the earliest surviving manuscripts of this Bible date from the 9th century A.D..

The oldest sections of the Hebrew Bible, the “five books of Moses” or Pentateuch, comprising the Torah in the strict sense, are the five books from Genesis through Deuteronomy. These books, from which the first two selections here are taken, provide among other things the Hebrews’ origin accounts. The Deuteronomic histories (the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings), which chronicle Hebrew history, are the source of the second two selections. A selection is also included from the Book of Job, framed around a central poetic dialogue, probably written around the time of the Persian Conquest and the Jewish Exile of the 6th century B.C. Also included is a passage from one of the Apocrypha: II Maccabees. The Apocrypha are books and portions of books written in Hebrew or Greek in the second and first centuries B.C., ultimately rejected as canonical by later Jewish authorities but preserved in Christian textual collections and whose inclusion in the Old Testament canon was disputed by Christian thinkers. While II Maccabees is not recognized as part of the Hebrew Bible by Jews or as part of the Old Testament by Protestant Christians, it is recognized as scriptural and part of the Old Testament by Catholics and Orthodox Christians. 

Within the older material of the Hebrew Bible, or Old Testament, two kinds of text bear on the issue of suicide: statements or imperatives held to define the morality of suicide, and accounts of specific instances of suicide. Of the first kind are Genesis 9:5, “for your lifeblood I will demand satisfaction,” now often said to be the basis on which Judaism’s prohibition of suicide is grounded, and Exodus 20:13, “thou shalt not kill” (or, in the New English Bible translation used here, “Do not commit murder”), the principal basis of Christianity’s prohibition. Christian authors do not typically appeal to Genesis 9:5 as the basis of the prohibition, nor do Jewish authors typically appeal to Exodus 20:13, though both texts are scriptural for both traditions. Of the second kind are the six instances of suicide narrated in the Hebrew Bible proper, as well as two in the Apocrypha: Abimelech (Judges 9:54); Samson (Judges 16:23-32); Saul and his armor bearer (the story runs continuously from I Samuel 31:4 through II Samuel 1:6, and is also related in I Chronicles 10:4); Ahithophel (II Samuel 17:23); Zimri (I Kings 16:18); Razis (II Maccabees 14:41); and Ptolemy Macron (II Maccabees 10:13). These narratives neither moralize about suicide nor express any explicit prohibition of self-killing. Job provides a negative instance of suicide, in which it is not undertaken despite a strong wish for death and a wife’s urging, and the Book of Daniel’s account of Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednego as they are thrown into the fiery furnace has served in the Jewish tradition as a paradigm of martyrdom to avoid apostasy (generally distinguished from suicide).

These texts pose numerous interpretive challenges. The plain meaning of the selection from Genesis does not explicitly address suicide per se. The explanation of how it has come to serve as the basis of Judaism’s prohibition of suicide involves what Noam Zohar calls “creative midrashic interpretation—so grammatically fantastic (as is not unusual in midrash) as to hardly merit being called an ‘interpretation’ at all.” Daniel Greenwood, in contrast, disagrees that there is a syntactical problem. But both agree on the conceptual implications: Genesis 9:5 eloquently expresses a basic valuation of human life, easily extended to a new context. As Zohar says, its “proclaim[ation of] the sanctity of human life, created in God’s image, and the consequent view of its destruction as amounting to sacrilege . . . provides (far more clearly than a turn of phrase in verse 9:5) the basis for the later midrashic interpretation as prohibiting suicide. . . .” The later interpretation applying the verse to suicide is to be found in Genesis Rabbah [q.v.] and in subsequent texts, including Tosafot [q.v.].

The story of Samson in Judges 16, which may seem to have implications for contemporary discussions of tactical suicide in military and quasi-military situations for subject peoples, is notable for its reference to intention. Samson asks for (and apparently receives) God’s assistance in destroying over 3,000 people and killing himself in the process. As in other military cultures, it is unclear whether Samson’s own death, whether seen as revenge for his blinding or as self-sacrifice in the cause of military success, is to be classified as a form of suicide.

1 Samuel 31:3 and the beginning of II Samuel present a substantial textual challenge: the phrase rendered here describing Saul as “wounded severely” can also be translated, and perhaps more plausibly, as holding that Saul was “very afraid of the archers.” How the passage is translated and how the alternative versions are understood make substantial differences in whether Saul’s suicide, or request for euthanasia, the coup de grâce, is to be understood as preemptive, as the hastening of a dying process already underway, as an act of cowardice, or—as David appears to think—murder, indeed regicide.

In the Book of Job—its inquisition modeled, some commentators hold, on the Persian secret service of the post-Conquest period—God permits “the Adversary,” Satan, to test Job’s renowned piety by imposing hardships on him. Job has had an ample family, extensive property, and good fortune and repute; and so, Satan argues, faith may be easy. With the permission of God, Satan inflicts a series of calamities on Job: his family dies, he loses his property, and he suffers painful physical ailments. The text is excerpted here to highlight not so much Job’s remonstration with God, the usual focus of readings of the text, but the strength of Job’s wish for death. In later commentaries, Job stands as the preeminent scriptural figure of endurance: Despite his wish for death as a relief from his unbearable afflictions, and even in spite of his wife’s suggestion that he curse God and thereby bring about his own death, he does not kill himself.

The selection from the Book of Daniel relates the story of Chananyah, Mishael, and Azaryah, who have been given the foreign names Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; it describes how they are thrown into a fiery furnace for refusing to worship Nebuchadnezzar’s idol. Even though they are miraculously saved in the end, their willingness to die rather than commit apostasy serves as a paradigm of martyrdom for much of later Judaism.

The final selection, recounting the suicide of the Jewish patriot Razis, is taken from the Apocryphal text II Maccabees. This text, said to be an abridgment of a longer historical work by Jason of Cyrene written in Greek that is no longer extant, narrates resistance under the leadership of the priest Matthias and his son Judas Maccabaeus to Hellenization by the Seleucid rulers of Palestine, and the forced introduction of idols and other forms of worship to Judea in general and the Jerusalem temple in particular. The rebellion succeeded, culminating in the rededication of the Temple in 164 B.C.. Significant in this episode is Razis’s desire, as he faces capture by the enemy, to “die nobly” in otherwise humiliating circumstances, both echoing the legacy of Saul and showing the influence of Roman Stoicism.

Sources

Genesis 9:1-6; Exodus 20:1-22; Judges 15:9-16:31; I Samuel 31:1-II Samuel 1:16; Job 1:1-4:17, 5:6-5:9, 5:17-5:18, 6:1-7:21, 9:32-10:22, 27:1-6, 36:1-12, 37:14-16, 37:19-38:18, 42:1-6; II Maccabees 14:37, The Oxford Study Bible: Revised English Bible with the Apocrypha, eds. M. Jack Suggs, Katharine Doob Sakenfeld, and James R. Mueller,  New York: Oxford University Press, 1992, pp. 18, 82-83, 264-266; 310-311; 510-517, 519-520, 534, 543-546, 549-550, 1255-1256. The Book of Daniel, The New English Bible, with the Apocrypha, Oxford Study Edition, ed. Samuel Sandmel, New York:  Oxford University Press, 1976, pp. 945-950.  Quotations in introduction from Noam Zohar and Daniel J.H. Greenwood.

 

 from THE HEBREW BIBLE/THE OLD TESTAMENT

 

GENESIS

The Prohibition of Bloodshed

God blessed Noah and his sons; he said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in numbers, and fill the earth.  Fear and dread of you will come on all the animals on earth, on all the birds of the air, on everything that moves on the ground, and on all fish in the sea; they are made subject to you.  Every creature that lives and moves will be food for you; I give them all to you, as I have given you every green plant.  But you must never eat flesh with its life still in it, that is the blood.

And further, for your life-blood I shall demand satisfaction; from every animal I shall require it, and from human beings also I shall require satisfaction for the death of their fellows.

‘Anyone who sheds human blood,
for that human being his blood will be shed;
because in the image of God
has God made human beings.’

 

EXODUS

The Ten Commandments

God spoke all these words: I am the LORD your God who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.

You must have no other God besides me.

You must not make a carved image for yourself, not the likeness of anything in the heavens above, or on the earth below, or in the waters under the earth.

You must not bow down to them in worship; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sins of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who reject me. But I keep faith with thousands, those who love me and keep my commandments.

You must not make wrong use of the name of the LORD your God; the LORD will not leave unpunished anyone who misuses his name.

Remember to keep the Sabbath day holy.  You have six days to labour and do all your work; but the seventh day is a Sabbath of the LORD your God; that day you must not do any work, neither you, nor your son or your daughter, your slave or your slave-girl, your cattle, or the alien residing among you; for in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and on the seventh day he rested.  Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and declared it holy.

Honour your father and your mother, so that you may enjoy long life in the land which the LORD your God is giving you.

Do not commit murder.
Do not commit adultery.
Do not steal.
Do not give false evidence against your neighbour.
Do not covet your neighbour’s household: you must not covet you neighbour’s wife, his slave, his slave-girl, his ox, his donkey, or anything that belongs to him.

When all the people saw how it thundered and the lightning flashed, when they heard the trumpet sound and saw the mountain in smoke, they were afraid and trembled.  They stood at a distance and said to Moses, ‘Speak to us yourself and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us or we shall die.’

Moses answered, ‘Do not be afraid.  God has come only to test you, so that the fear of him may remain with you and preserve you from sinning.’  So the people kept their distance, while Moses approached the dark cloud where God was.

The LORD said to Moses, Say this to the Israelites: You know now that I have spoken from heaven to you.

 

JUDGES

Samson and the Philistines

. . . Samson fell in love with a woman named Delilah, who lived by the wadi of Sorek.  The lords of the Philistines went up to her and said, ‘Cajole him and find out what gives him his great strength, and how we can overpower and bind him and render him helpless.  We shall each give you eleven hundred pieces of silver.’

Delilah said to Samson, ‘Tell me, what gives you your great strength?  How could you be bound and made helpless?’  ‘If I were bound with seven fresh bowstrings not yet dry,’ replied Samson, ‘then I should become no stronger than any other man.’  The lords of the Philistines brought her seven fresh bowstrings not yet dry, and she bound him with them.  She had men concealed in the inner room, and she cried, ‘Samson, the Philistines are upon you!’  Thereupon he snapped the bowstrings as a strand of tow snaps at the touch of fire, and his strength was not impaired.

Delilah said to Samson, ‘You have made a fool of me and lied to me.  Now tell me this time how you can be bound.’  He said to her, ‘If I were tightly bound with new ropes that have never been used, then I should become no stronger than any other man.’

Delilah took new ropes and bound him with them.  Then, with men concealed in the inner room, she cried, ‘Samson, the Philistines are upon you!’  But he snapped the ropes off his arms like thread.

Delilah said to him, ‘You are still making a fool of me, still lying to me.  Tell me: how can you be bound?’  He said, ‘Take the seven loose locks of my hair, weave them into the warp, and drive them tight with the beater; then I shall become no stronger than any other man.’  So she lulled him to sleep, wove the seven loose locks of his hair into the warp, drove them tight with the beater, and cried, ‘Samson, the Philistines are upon you!’  He woke from sleep and pulled away the warp and the loom with it.

She said to him, ‘How can you say you love me when you do not confide in me?  This is the third time you have made a fool of me and have not told me what gives you your great strength.’  She so pestered him with these words day after day, pressing him hard and wearying him to death, that he told her the whole secret.  ‘No razor has touched my head,’ he said, ‘because I am a Nazirite, consecrated to God from the day of my birth.  If my head were shaved, then my strength would leave me, and I should become no stronger than any other man.’

Delilah realized that he had told her his secret, and she sent word to the lords of the Philistines: ‘Come up at once,’ she said; ‘he has told me his secret.’  The lords of the Philistines came, bringing the money with them.

She lulled Samson to sleep on her lap, and then summoned a man to shave the seven locks of his hair.  She was now making him helpless.  When his strength had left him, she cried, ‘Samson, the Philistines are upon you!’  He woke from his sleep and thought, ‘I will go out as usual and shake myself’; he did not know that the Lord had left him.  Then the Philistines seized him, gouged out his eyes, and brought him down toGaza. There they bound him with bronze fetters, and he was set to grinding grain in the prison.  But his hair, after it had been shaved, began to grow again.

The lords of the Philistines assembled to offer a great sacrifice to their god Dagon, and to rejoice and say, ‘Our god has delivered into our hands Samson our enemy.’

The people, when they saw him, praised their god, chanting: ‘Our god has delivered our enemy into our hands, the scourge of our land who piled it with our dead.’

When they grew merry, they said, ‘Call Samson, and let him entertain us.’  When Samson was summoned from prison, he was a source of entertainment to them.  They then stood him between the pillars, and Samson said to the boy who led him by the hand, ‘Put me where I can feel the pillars which support the temple, so that I may lean against them.’  The temple was full of men and women, and all the lords of the Philistines were there, and there were about three thousand men and women on the roof watching the entertainment.

Samson cried to the Lord and said, ‘Remember me, Lord God, remember me: for this one occasion, God, give me strength, and let me at one stroke be avenged on the Philistines for my two eyes.’  He put his arms round the two central pillars which supported the temple, his right arm round one and his left round the other and, bracing himself, he said, ‘Let me die with the Philistines.’  Then Samson leaned forward with all his might, and the temple crashed down on the lords and all the people who were in it.  So the dead whom he killed at his death were more than those he had killed in his life.

 

I SAMUEL—II SAMUEL

Saul and his Armor-Bearer

The Philistines engaged Israel in battle, and the Israelites were routed, leaving their dead on Mount Gilboa.  The Philistines closely pursued Saul and his sons, and Jonathan, Adinadab, and Malchishua, the sons of Saul, were killed.  The battle went hard for Saul, and when the archers caught up with him they wounded him severely.  He said to his armour-bearer, ‘Draw your sword and run me through, so that these uncircumcised brutes may not come and taunt me and make sport of me.’  But the armour-bearer refused; he dared not do it.  Thereupon Saul took his own sword and fell on it.  When the armour-bearer saw that Saul was dead, he too fell on his sword and died with him.  So they died together on that day, Saul, his three sons, and his armour-bearer, as well as all his men.  When the Israelites in the neighborhood of the valley and of the Jordan saw that the other Israelites had fled and that Saul and his sons had perished, they fled likewise, abandoning their towns; and the Philistines moved in and occupied them.

Next day, when the Philistines came to strip the slain, they found Saul and his three sons lying dead on Mount Gilboa.  They cut off his head and stripped him of his armour; then they sent messengers through the length and breadth of their land to carry the good news to idols and people alike.  They deposited his armour in the temple of Ashtorethand nailed his body on the wall of Beth-shan.  When the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead heard what the Philistines had done to Saul, all the warriors among them set out and journeyed through the night to recover the bodies of Saul and his sons from the wall of Beth-shan.  They brought them back to Jabesh and burned them; they took the bones and buried them under the tamarisk tree in Jabesh, and for seven days they fasted.

AFTER Saul’s death David returned from his victory over the Amalekites and spent two days in Ziklag.  On the third day a man came from Saul’s camp; his clothes were torn and there was dust on his head.  Coming into David’s presence he fell to the ground and did obeisance.  David asked him where he had come from, and he replied, ‘I have escaped from the Israelite camp.’  David said, ‘What is the news?  Tell me.’  ‘The army has been driven from the field,’ he answered, ‘many have fallen in battle, and Saul and Jonathan his son are dead.’  David said to the young man who brought the news, ‘How do you know that Saul and Jonathan are dead?’  He answered, ‘It so happened that I was onMountGilboaand saw Saul leaning on his spear with the chariots and horsemen closing in on him.  He turned and, seeing me, called to me.  I said, “What is it, sir?”  He asked me who I was, and I said, “An Amalekite.”  He said to me, “Come and stand over me and dispatch me.  I still live, but the throes of death have seized me.”  So I stood over him and dealt him the death blow, for I knew that, stricken as he was, he could not live.  Then I took the crown from his head and the armlet from his arm, and I have brought them here to you, my lord.’  At that David and all the men with him took hold of their clothes and tore them.  They mourned and wept, and they fasted till evening because Saul and Jonathan his son and the army of the Lord and the house of Israel had fallen in battle.

David said to the young man who brought him the news. ‘Where do you come from?’  and he answered, ‘I am the son of an alien, an Amalekite.’  ‘How is it’, said David, ‘that you were not afraid to raise your hand to kill the Lord’s anointed?’  Summoning one of his own young men he ordered him to fall upon the Amalekite.  The young man struck him down and he died.  David said, ‘Your blood be on your own head; for out of your own mouth you condemned yourself by saying, “I killed the LORD’s anointed.”’

 

THE BOOK OF JOB

The Sufferings of Job

THERE lived in the land of Uz a man of blameless and upright life named Job, who feared God and set his face against wrongdoing.  He had seven sons and three daughters; and he owned seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred she-donkeys, together with a large number of slaves.  Thus Job was the greatest man in all the East.

His sons used to meet together and give, each in turn, a banquet in his own house, and they would send and invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them.  Then, when a round of banquets was over, Job would send for his children and sanctify them, rising early in the morning and sacrificing a whole offering for each of them; for he thought that they might somehow have sinned against God and committed blasphemy in their hearts.  This Job did regularly.

The day came when the members of the court of heaven took their places in the presence of the LORD, and the Adversary, Satan, was there among them.  The LORD asked him where he had been.  ‘Ranging over the earth’, said the Adversary, ‘from end to end.’

The LORD asked him, ‘Have you considered my servant Job? You will find no one like him on earth, a man of blameless and upright life, who fears God and sets his face against wrongdoing.’ ‘Has not Job good reason to be godfearing?’ answered the Adversary.

‘Have you not hedged him round on every side with your protection, him and his family and all his possessions?  Whatever he does you bless, and everywhere his herds have increased beyond measure.  But just stretch out your hand and touch all that he has, and see if he will not curse you to your face.’

‘Very well,’ said the LORD.  ‘All that he has is in your power; only the man himself you must not touch.’  With that the Adversary left the LORD’s presence.

On the day when Job’s sons and daughters were eating and drinking in the eldest brother’s house, a messenger came to Job and said, ‘The oxen were ploughing and the donkeys were grazing near them, when the Sabaeans swooped down and carried them off, after putting the herdsmen to the sword; only I have escaped to bring you the news.’

While he was still speaking, another messenger arrived and said, ‘God’s fire flashed from heaven, striking the sheep and the shepherds and burning them up; only I have escaped to bring you the news.’  While he was still speaking, another arrived and said, ‘The Chaldaeans, three bands of them, have made a raid on the camels and carried them off, after putting those tending them to the sword; only I have escaped to bring you the news.’  While this man was speaking, yet another arrived and said, ‘Your sons and daughters were eating and drinking in their eldest brother’s house, when suddenly a whirlwind swept across from the desert and struck the four corners of the house, which fell on the young people.  They are dead, and only I have escaped to bring you the news.’

At this Job stood up, tore his cloak, shaved his head, and threw himself prostrate on the ground, saying:

‘Naked I came from the womb,
naked I shall return whence I came.
The LORD gives and the LORD takes away;
blessed be the name of the LORD.’

Throughout all this Job did not sin, nor did he ascribe any fault to God.

Once again the day came when the members of the court of heaven took their places in the presence of the LORD, and the Adversary was there among them. The LORD enquired where he had been. ‘Ranging over the earth’, said the Adversary, ‘from end to end.’  The LORD asked, ‘Have you considered my servant Job?  You will find no one like him on earth, a man of blameless and upright life, who fears God and sets his face against wrongdoing.  You incited me to ruin him without cause, but he still holds fast to his integrity.’  The Adversary replied, ‘Skin for skin!  To save himself there is nothing a man will withhold.  But just reach out your hand and touch his bones and his flesh, and see if he will not curse you to your face.’  The LORD said to the Adversary, ‘So be it. He is in your power; only spare his life.’

When the Adversary left the LORD’s presence, he afflicted Job with running sores from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, and Job took a piece of a broken pot to scratch himself as he sat among the ashes.  His wife said to him, ‘Why do you still hold fast to your integrity?  Curse God, and die!’

He answered, ‘You talk as any impious woman might talk.  If we accept good from God, shall we not accept evil?’  Throughout all this, Job did not utter one sinful word.

When Job’s three friends, Eliphaz of Teman, Bildad of Shuah, and Zophar of Naamah, heard of all these calamities which had overtaken him, they set out from their homes, arranging to go and condole with him and comfort him. But when they first saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him; they wept aloud, tore their cloaks, and tossed dust into the air over their heads.

For seven days and seven nights they sat beside him on the ground, and none of them spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.

Job’s complaint to God

AFTER this Job broke his silence and cursed the day of his birth:

Perish the day when I was born, and the night which said, ‘A boy is conceived’!
May that day turn to darkness;
may God above not look for it,
nor light of dawn shine on it.
May gloom and deep darkness claim it again;
May cloud smother that day, blackness eclipse its sun.

May blind darkness swallow up that night!
May it not be counted among the days of the year
or reckoned in the cycle of the months.
May that night be barren for ever,
may no cry of joy be heard in it.
Let it be cursed by those whose spells bind the sea monster,
who have the skill to tame Leviathan.
May no star shine out in its twilight;
may it wait for a dawn that never breaks,
and never see the eyelids of the morning,
because it did not shut the doors of the womb that bore me
and keep trouble away from my sight.

Why was I not stillborn,
Why did I not perish when I came from the womb?
Why was I ever laid on my mother’s Knees
or put to suck at her breasts?
Or why was I not concealed like an untimely birth,
like an infant who never saw the light?
For now I should be lying in the quiet grave,
asleep in death, at rest
with kings and their earthly counselors
who built for themselves cities now laid waste,
or with princes rich in gold
whose houses were replete with silver.

There the wicked chafe no more,
there the tired labourer takes his ease;
the captive too finds peace there,
no slave-driver’s voice reaches him;
high and low alike are there,
even the slave, free from his master.

Why should the sufferer be born to see the light?
Why is life given to those who find it so bitter?
They long for death but it does not come,
they seek it more eagerly than hidden treasure.
They are glad when they reach the grave;
when they come to the tomb they exult.
Why should a man be born to wander blindly,
hedged about by God on every side?

Sighing is for me all my food;
groans pour from me in a torrent.
Every terror that haunted me has caught up with me.
There is no peace of mind, no quiet for me;
trouble comes, and I have no rest. . . .

. . . Does not every mortal have hard service on earth,
and are not his days like those of a hired labourer,
like those of a slave longing for the shade
or a servant kept waiting for his wages?
So months of futility are my portion,
troubled nights are my lot.
When I lie down, I think,
‘When will it be day, that I may rise?’
But the night drags on,
and I do nothing but toss till dawn.
My body is infested with worms,
and scabs cover my skin;
it is cracked and discharging.
My days pass more swiftly than a weaver’s shuttle
and come to an end as the thread of life runs out.

Remember that my life is but a breath of wind;
I shall never again see good times.
The eye that now sees me will behold me no more;
under your very eyes I shall vanish.
As a cloud breaks up and disperses,
so no one who goes down to Sheol ever comes back;
he never returns to his house,
and his abode knows him no more.

But I cannot hold my peace;
I shall speak out in my anguish of spirit
and complain in my bitterness of soul.

Am I the monster of the deep, am I the sea serpent,
that you set a watch over me?
When I think that my bed will comfort me,
that sleep will receive my complaint,
you terrify me with dreams
and affright me through visions.
I would rather be choked outright;
death would be better than these sufferings of mine.
I am in despair, I have no desire to live;
let me alone, for my days are but a breath.
What is man, that you make much of him
and turn your thoughts towards him,
only to punish him morning after morning
or to test him every hour of the day?
Will you not look away from me for an instant,
leave me long enough to swallow my spittle?
If I have sinned, what harm can I do you,
you watcher of the human heart?
Why have you made me your target?
Why have I become a burden to you?
Why do you not pardon my offence
and take away my guilt?
For soon I shall lie in the dust of the grave;
you may seek me, but I shall be no more.

God is not as I am, not someone I can challenge,
and say, ‘Let us confront one another in court.’
If only there were one to arbitrate between us
and impose his authority on us both,
so that God might take his rod from my back,
and terror of him might not come on me suddenly.
I should then speak out without fear of him,
for I know I am not what I am thought to be.

I am sickened of life . . .
***
You granted me life and continuing favour,
and your providence watched over my spirit.
Yet this was the secret purpose of your heart,
and I know what was your intent:
that, if I sinned, you would be watching me
and would not absolve me of my guilt.
If indeed I am wicked, all the worse for me!
If I am upright, I cannot hold up my head;
I am filled with shame and steeped in my affliction.
If I am proud as a lion, you hunt me down
and confront me again with marvelous power;
you renew your onslaught on me,
and with mounting anger against me
bring fresh forces to the attack.

Why did you bring me out of the womb?
Better if I had expired and no one had set eyes on me,
if I had been carried from womb to grave
and were as though I had not been born.
Is not my life short and fleeting?
Let me be, that I may be happy for a moment,
before I depart to a land of gloom,
a land of deepest darkness, never to return,
a land of dense darkness and disorder,
increasing darkness lit by no ray of light.

Then Job resumed his discourse

I swear by the living God, who has denied me justice,
by the Almighty, who has filled me with bitterness,
that so long as there is any life left in me
and the breath of God is in my nostrils,
no untrue word will pass my lips,
nor will my tongue utter any falsehood.
Far be it from me to concede that you are right!
Till I cease to be, I shall not abandon my claim of innocence.
I maintain and shall never give up the rightness of my cause;
so long as I live, I shall not change.

God’s answer and Job’s submission

THEN the LORD answered Job out of the tempest:

Who is this who darkens counsel
with words devoid of knowledge?
Brace yourself and stand up like a man;
I shall put questions to you, and you must answer.
Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?
Tell me, if you know and understand.
Who fixed its dimensions? Surely you know!
Who stretched a measuring line over it?
On what do its supporting pillars rest?
Who set its corner-stone in place,
while the morning stars sang in chorus
and the sons of God all shouted for joy?. . .

Who supported the sea at its birth,
when it burst in flood from the womb—
when I wrapped it in a blanket of cloud
and swaddled it in dense fog,
when I established its bounds,
set its barred doors in place,
and said, ‘Thus far may you come but no farther;
here your surging waves must halt’?

In all your life have you ever called up the dawn
or assigned the morning its place?
Have you taught it to grasp the fringes of the earth
and shake the Dog-star from the sky;
to bring up the horizon in relief as clay under a seal,
until all things stand out like the folds of a cloak,
when the light of the Dog-star is dimmed
and the stars of the Navigator’s Line go out one by one?

Have you gone down to the springs of the sea
or walked in the unfathomable deep?
Have the portals of death been revealed to you?
Have you seen the door-keepers of the place of darkness?
Have you comprehended the vast expanse on the world?
Tell me all this, if you know.

Job answered the LORD

I know that you can do all things
and that no purpose is beyond you.
You ask: Who is this obscuring counsel yet lacking knowledge?
But I have spoken of things
which I have not understood,
things too wonderful for me to know.
Listen, and let me speak. You said:
I shall put questions to you, and you must answer.
I knew of you then only by report,
but now I see you with my own eyes.
Therefore I yield,
repenting in dust and ashes.

Epilogue

WHEN the LORD had finished speaking to Job, he said to Eliphaz the Temanite, ‘My anger is aroused against you and your two friends, because, unlike my servant Job, you have not spoken as you ought about me.

Now take seven bulls and seven rams, go to my servant Job and offer a whole-offering for yourselves, and he will intercede for you.  I shall surely show him favour by not being harsh with you because you have not spoken as you ought about me, as he has done.’

Then Eliphaz the Temanite and Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite went and carried out the Lord’s command, and the Lord showed favour to Job when he had interceded for his friends.

The LORD restored Job’s fortunes, and gave him twice the possessions he had before . . . Job lived another hundred and forty years; he saw his sons and his grandsons to four generations, and he died at a very great age.

 

DANIEL

Shadrach, Meschach, Abednego and the Fiery Furnace

In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim king of Judah, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon came to Jerusalem and laid siege to it.  The LORD delivered Jehoiakim king of Judah into his power, together with all that was left of the vessels of the house of God; and he carried them off to the land of Shinar, to the temple of his god, where he deposited the vessels in the treasury.  Then the king ordered Ashpenaz, his chief eunuch, to take certain of the Israelite exiles, of the blood royal and of the nobility, who were to be young men of good looks and bodily without fault, at home in all branches of knowledge, well-informed, intelligent, and fit for service in the royal court; and he was to instruct them in the literature and language of the Chaldaeans.  The king assigned them a daily allowance of food and wine from the royal table.  Their training was to last for three years, and at the end of that time they would enter the royal service.

Among them there were certain young men from Judah called Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah; but the master of the eunuchs gave them new names: Daniel he called Belteshazzar, Hananiah Shadrach, Mishael Meshach and Azariah Abednego.  Now Daniel determined not to contaminate himself by touching the food and wine assigned to him by the king, and he begged the master of the eunuchs not to make him do so.  God made the master show kindness and goodwill to Daniel, and he said to him, ‘I am afraid of my lord the king: he has assigned you your food and drink, and if he sees you looking dejected, unlike the other young men of your own age, it will cost me my head.’  Then Daniel said to the guard whom the master of the eunuchs had put in charge of Hananiah, Mishael, Azariah and himself, ‘Submit us to this test for ten days.  Give us only vegetables to eat and water to drink; then compare our looks with those of the young men who have lived on the food assigned by the king, and be guided in your treatment of us by what you see.’  The guard listened to what they said and tested them for ten days.  At the end of ten days they looked healthier and were better nourished than all the young men who had lived on the food assigned them by the king.  So the guard took away the assignment of food and the wine they were to drink, and gave them only the vegetables.

To all four of these young men God had given knowledge and understanding of books and learning of every kind, while Daniel had a gift for interpreting visions and dreams of every kind.  The time came which the king had fixed for introducing the young men to court, and the master of the eunuchs brought them into the presence of Nebuchadnezzar.  The king talked with them and found none of them to compare with Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah; so they entered the royal service.  Whenever the king consulted them on any matter calling for insight and judgement, he found them ten times better than all the magicians and exorcists in his whole kingdom.  Now Daniel was there till the first year of King Cyrus.

In the second year of his reign Nebuchadnezzar had dreams, and his mind was so troubled that he could not sleep.  Then the king gave orders to summon the magicians, exorcists, sorcerers, and Chaldaeans to tell him what he had dreamt.  They came in and stood in the royal presence, and the king said to them, ‘I have had a dream and my mind has been troubled to know what my dream was.’  The Chaldaeans, speaking in Aramaic, said, ‘Long live the king!  Tell us what you dreamt and we will tell you the interpretation.’  The king answered.  ‘This is my declared intention.  If you do not tell me both dream and interpretation, you shall be torn in pieces and your houses shall be forfeit.  But if you can tell me the dream and the interpretation, you will be richly rewarded and loaded with honours.  Tell me, therefore, the dream and its interpretation.’  They answered a second time, ‘Let the king tell his servants the dream, and we will tell him the interpretation.’  The king answered, ‘It is clear to me that you are trying to gain time, because you see that my intention has been declared.  If you do not make known to me the dream, there is one law that applies to you, and one only.  What is more, you have agreed among yourselves to tell me a pack of lies to my face in the hope that with time things may alter.  Tell me the dream, therefore, and I shall know that you can give me the interpretation.’  The Chaldaeans answered in the presence of the king, ‘Nobody on earth can tell your majesty what you wish to know; no great king or prince has ever made such a demand of magician, exorcist, or Chaldaean.  What your majesty requires of us is too hard; there is no one but the gods, who dwell remote from mortal men, who can give you the answer.’  At this the king lost his temper and in a great rage ordered the death of all the wise men of Babylon.  A decree was issued that the wise men were to be executed, and accordingly men were sent to fetch Daniel and his companions for execution.

When Arioch, the captain of the king’s bodyguard, was setting out to execute the wise men ofBabylon, Daniel approached him cautiously and with discretion and said, ‘Sir, you represent the king; why has his majesty issued such a peremptory decree?’  Arioch explained everything; so Daniel went in to the king’s presence and begged for a certain time by which he would give the king the interpretation.  Then Daniel went home and told the whole story to his companions, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah.  They should ask the God of heaven in his mercy, he said, to disclose this secret, so that they and he with the rest of the wise men of Babylon should not be put to death.  Then in a vision by night the secret was revealed to Daniel, and he blessed the God of heaven in these words:

Blessed be God’s name from age to age,
for all wisdom and power are his.
He changes seasons and times;
he deposes kings and sets them up;
he gives wisdom to the wise
and all their store of knowledge to
the men who know;
he reveals deep mysteries;
he knows what lies in darkness,
and light has its dwelling with him.

To thee, God of my fathers, I give
thanks and praise,
for thou hast given me wisdom and power;
thou hast now revealed to me what we asked,
and told us what the king is
concerned to know.

Daniel therefore went to Arioch who had been charged by the king to put to death the wise men of Babylon and said to him, ‘Do not put the wise men of Babylon to death.  Take me into the king’s presence, and I will now tell him the interpretation of the dream.’  Arioch in great trepidation brought Daniel before the king and said to him, ‘I have found among the Jewish exiles a man who will make known to your majesty the interpretation of your dream.’  Thereupon the king said to Daniel (who was also called Belteshazzar), ‘Can you tell me what I saw in my dream and interpret it?’  Daniel answered in the king’s presence, ‘The secret about which your majesty inquires no wise man, exorcist, magician, or diviner can disclose to you.  But there is in heaven a god who reveals secrets, and he has told King Nebuchadnezzar what is to be at the end of this age.  This is the dream and these the visions that came into your head: the thoughts that came to you, O king, as you lay on your bed, were thoughts of things to come, and the revealer of secrets has made known to you what is to be.  This secret has been revealed to me not because I am wise beyond all living men, but because your majesty is to know the interpretation and understand the thoughts which have entered you mind.

‘As you watched, O king, you saw a great image.  This image, huge and dazzling, towered before you, fearful to behold.  The head of the image was of fine gold, its breast and arms of silver, its belly and thighs of bronze,e  its legs of iron, its feet part iron and part clay.  While you looked, a stone was hewn from a mountain, not by human hands; it struck the image on its feet of iron and clay and shattered them.  Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver, and the gold, were all shattered to fragments and were swept away like chaff before the wind from a threshing floor in summer, until no trace of them remained.  But the stone which struck the image grew into a great mountain filling the whole earth.  That was the dream.  We shall now tell your majesty the interpretation.  You, O king, king of kings, to whom the God of heaven has given the kingdom with all its power, authority, and honour; in whose hands he has placed men and beasts and birds of the air, wherever they dwell, granting you sovereignty over them all—you are that head of gold.  After you there shall arise another kingdom, inferior to yours, and yet a third kingdom, of bronze, which shall have sovereignty over the whole world.  And there shall be a fourth kingdom, strong as iron; as iron shatters and destroys all things, it shall break and shatter the whole earth. As, in your vision, the feet and toes were part potter’s clay and part iron, it shall be a divided kingdom.  Its core shall be partly of iron just as you saw iron mixed with the common clay; as the toes were part iron and part clay, the kingdom shall be partly strong and partly brittle.  As, in your vision, the iron was mixed with common clay, so shall men mix with each other by intermarriage, but such alliances shall not be stable: iron does not mix with clay.  In the period of those kings the God of heaven will establish a kingdom which shall never be destroyed; that kingdom shall never pass to another people; it shall shatter and make an end of all these kingdoms, while it shall itself endure for ever.  This is the meaning of your vision of the stone being hewn from a mountain, not by human hands, and then shattering the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver, and the gold.  The mighty God has made known to your majesty what is to be hereafter.  The dream is sure and the interpretation to be trusted.’

Then King Nebuchadnezzar prostrated himself and worshipped Daniel, and gave orders that sacrifices and soothing offerings should be made to him.  ‘Truly,’ he said, ‘your god is indeed God of gods and Lord over kings, a revealer of secrets, since you have been able to reveal this secret.’  Then the king promoted Daniel, bestowed on him many rich gifts, and made him regent over the whole province of Babylon and chief prefect over all the wise men ofBabylon.  Moreover at Daniel’s request the king put Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in charge of the administration of the province of Babylon.  Daniel himself, however, remained at court.

King Nebuchadnezzar made an image of gold, ninety feet high and nine feet broad.  He had it set up in the plain of Dura in the province of Babylon.  Then he sent out a summons to assemble the satraps, prefects, viceroys, counselors, treasurers, judges, chief constables, and all governors of provinces to attend the dedication of the image which he had set up.  So they assembled—the satraps, prefects, viceroys, counselors, treasurers, judges, chief constables, and all governors of provinces—for the dedication of the image which King Nebuchadnezzar had set up; and they stood before the image which Nebuchadnezzar had set up.  Then the herald loudly proclaimed, ‘O peoples and nations of every language, you are commanded, when you hear the sound of horn, pipe, zither, triangle, dulcimer, music, and singing of every kind, to prostrate yourselves and worship the golden image which King Nebuchadnezzar has set up.  Whoever does not prostrate himself and worship shall forthwith be thrown into a blazing furnace.’  Accordingly, no sooner did all the peoples hear the sound of horn, pipe, zither, triangle, dulcimer, music, and singing of every kind, than all the peoples and nations of every language prostrated themselves and worshipped the golden image which King Nebuchadnezzar had set up.

It was then that certain Chaldaeans came forward and brought a charge against the Jews.  They said to King Nebuchadnezzar, ‘Long live the king!  Your majesty has issued an order that every man who hears the sound of horn, pipe, zither, triangle, dulcimer, music, and singing of every kind shall fall down and worship the image of gold.  Whoever does not do so shall be thrown into a blazing furnace.  There are certain Jews, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, whom you have put in charge of the administration of the province of Babylon.  These men, your majesty, have taken no notice of your command; they do not serve your god, nor do they worship the golden image which you have set up.’  Then in rage and fury Nebuchadnezzar ordered Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego to be fetched, and they were brought into the king’s presence.  Nebuchadnezzar said to them, ‘Is it true, Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, that you do not serve my god or worship the golden image which I have set up?  If you are ready at once to prostrate yourselves when you hear the sound of horn, pipe, zither, triangle, dulcimer, music, and singing of every kind, and to worship the image that I have set up, well and good.  But if you do not worship it, you shall forthwith be thrown in to the blazing furnace; and what god is there that can save you from my power?’  Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego said to King Nebuchadnezzar, ‘We have no need to answer you on this matter.  If there is a god who is able to save us from the blazing furnace, it is our God whom we serve, and he will save us from your power, O king; but if not, be it known to your majesty that we will neither serve your god nor worship the golden image that you have set up.’

Then Nebuchadnezzar flew into a rage with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and his face was distorted with anger.  He gave orders that the furnace should be heated up to seven times its usual heat, and commanded some of the strongest men in his army to bind Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and throw them into the blazing furnace.  Then those men in their trousers, their shirts, and their hats and all their other clothes, were bound and thrown into the blazing furnace.  Because the king’s order was urgent and the furnace exceedingly hot, the men who were carrying Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were killed by the flames that leapt out; and those three men, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, fell bound into the blazing furnace.

Then King Nebuchadnezzar was amazed and sprang to his feet in great trepidation.  He said to his courtiers, ‘Was it not three men whom we threw bound into the fire?’  They answered the king, ‘Assuredly, your majesty.’  He answered, ‘Yet I see four men walking about in the fire free and unharmed; and the fourth looks like a god.’  Nebuchadnezzar approached the door of the blazing furnace and said to the men, ‘Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out, come here.’  Then Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out from the fire.  And the satraps, prefects, viceroys, and the king’s courtiers gathered round and saw how the fire had had no power to harm the bodies of these men; the hair of their heads had not been singed, their trousers were untouched, and no smell of fire lingered about them.

Then Nebuchadnezzar spoke out, ‘Blessed is the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.  He has sent his angel to save his servants who put their trust in him, who disobeyed the royal command and were willing to yield themselves to the fire rather than to serve or worship any god other than their own God.  I therefore issue a decree that any man, to whatever people or nation he belongs, whatever his language, if he speaks blasphemy against the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, shall be torn to pieces and his house shall be forfeit; for there is no other god who can save men in this way.’  Then the king advanced the fortunes of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the province of Babylon.

 

 II MACCABEES

The Suicide of Razis

A man call Razis, a member of the Jerusalem senate, was denounced to Nicanor.  He was a patriot and very highly spoken of, one who for his loyalty was known as Father of the Jews.  In the early days of the revolt he had stood trial for practicing the Jewish religion, and with no hesitation had risked life and limb for that cause.  Nicanor, wishing to demonstrate his hostility towards the Jews, sent more than five hundred soldiers to arrest Razis; he reckoned that this would be a severe blow to the Jews.  The tower of his house was on the point of being captured by this mob of soldiers, the outer gate was being forced, and there were calls for fire to burn down the inner doors, when Razis, beset on every side, turned his sword on himself; he preferred to die nobly rather than fall into the hands of evil men and be subjected to gross humiliation.  With everything happening so quickly, he misjudged the stroke and, now that troops were pouring through the doorways, he ran up without hesitation on to the wall and heroically threw himself down into the crowd.  They hurriedly gave way and he fell to the ground in the space they left.  He was still breathing and still ablaze with courage; streaming with blood and severely wounded as he was, he picked himself up and dashed through the crowd.  Finally, standing on a sheer rock, and now completely drained of blood, he tore out his entrails and with both hands flung them at the crowd.  And thus, invoking him who disposes of life and breath to give them back to him again, he died.

Comments Off on THE HEBREW BIBLE AND APOCRYPHA
(c. 12th-1st centuries B.C.)

Genesis: The Prohibition of Bloodshed
Exodus: The Ten Commandments
Judges: Samson and the Philistines
I Samuel-II Samuel: Saul and his    Armor-Bearer
Job: The Sufferings of Job
Daniel: Shadrach, Meschach, Abednego    and the Fiery Furnace
II Maccabees: The Suicide of Razis

Filed under Ancient History, Christianity, Hebrew Bible, Judaism, Martyrdom, Middle East, Selections

by | · 5:35 pm

THE VEDAS, UPANISHADS, AND PURANAS
(c. 1500-c. 500 B.C.)

Rigveda
Chandogya Upanishad
Isha Upanishad
Brahma Purana
Padma Purana
Skanda Purana
Jabala Upanishad

 

The Vedic period in Indian thought, which saw the emergence of the Sanskrit hymns known as the Vedas, began around 1200 B.C. during the late Bronze Age and early Iron Age in the region of northern India ranging from the upper Indus valley to the lower Ganges and from the Himalayan foothills to the Vindhya Mountains. Vedic thought continued through a middle phase involving the composition of the interpretive Brahmanas and Upanishads, the latter largely philosophical dialogues, followed by the later Puranas, which began to be composed about 350 A.D. and continued to about 1500 A.D..

The four Vedas—the Rigveda, Yajur Veda, Sama Veda, and Atharva Veda—consist of some 1,028 hymns in Vedic Sanskrit, composed over several centuries by poets in various priestly groups. They are metrical hymns dedicated to specific deities for recitation or chanting in connection with religious sacrifice, and are considered shruti (“what is heard”), that is, directly  revealed, as distinct from texts that are smriti (“what is remembered”), that is, of human origin. The oldest of Hindu scriptures, the Vedas were originally passed down orally with exquisite precision, and continued to be transmitted orally long after Vedic culture employed writing for other purposes.

Attached to specific Vedas are additional expository and interpretive texts, the Samhitas, the Brahmanas, the Aranyakas, and the Upanishads. The Brahmanas are largely prose works, intended to interpret and explore the meaning of the Vedas.

The Upanishads focus on ritualistic worship and on knowledge of Brahman. There are more than 200 Upanishads, comprising ten principal works: the Isha, Kena, Katha, Prashna, Mundaka, Mandukya, Taittiriya, Aitareya, Chandogya, and Brihadaranyaka Upanishads. Because the Upanishads arose during a period of social, economic, and religious change, as Patrick Olivelle observes, they also display the emergence of central religious concepts in both Hinduism and in the new religious movements of the time, Buddhism and Jainism: such concepts as the doctrine of rebirth, the law of karma that regulates rebirth, techniques of liberation from rebirth, the disciplines of yoga, ascetic self-denial and mortification, and the renunciation of sex, wealth, and family life. It is the Upanishads, viewed by many scholars as the pinnacle of early and classical Hindu literature, that continue to play a role of particularly great influence in Hinduism; they have been of central importance in Indian religion, philosophy, and culture for almost three millennia. Heterodox traditions later developing from these roots include the Jain and Buddhist traditions.

The Rigveda, probably complete by about 900 B.C., provides what some scholars regard as the earliest mention of sati, the practice of self-immolation by a wife on her husband’s funeral pyre. The passage seems to describe a ritual practice in which the new widow lies on the pyre beside her husband’s corpse, but then, apparently, retires before the pyre is set alight. It is not known whether this is the vestige of an older custom involving actual live cremation of the widow, or a gesture symbolizing the end of a marriage. Nor is it known whether it was originally restricted to nobility or the higher castes, a privilege for the wives of nobles and kings. In this text, sati is clearly viewed as a privilege of the virtuous wife. In a much later period of Hindu thought, the Brahma Purana speaks of sati, but casts it as an obligation or duty.

The Chandogya Upanishad is one of the earliest of the Upanishads in date of composition; it is pre-Buddhist, and probably dates from the 7th or 6th century B.C. In the passages presented here it expresses what appears to be dedication to living a “full length of life,” as does the Isha Upanishad: “One may desire to live a hundred years.”

The Isha Upanishad (also called the Ishavasya Upanishad or the Samhita Upanishad) is normally placed first in collections of the Upanishads, though it is not the oldest; it probably dates from the last few centuries B.C.. It is one of the shortest of all the Upanishads. The poem also focuses on those who “kill the self,” explicit in the third stanza. This phrase has many possible interpretations—variously supported by different scholars—ranging from extreme self-abnegation, to destruction of the bodily self, to destruction of the spiritual self by material concerns. The Isha Upanishad also contains highly negative judgments of suicide in the conventional sense: those who commit suicide are condemned to an extremely harsh afterlife. In seeming contrast, according to S. Radhakrishnan, the Jabala Upanishad seems to justify suicide, in certain conditions.

Throughout the Sanskrit literature the term aatma hatya, or “killing (or murder) of the soul,” is used for suicide; it remains the term for suicide in modern Hindi. There is an ongoing debate as to whether in the ancient texts aatma hatya refers to literal, physical, or spiritual suicide, as in certain yogic practices that are held to separate the soul from the body—especially stopping the action of thinking. On the other hand, the Sanskrit literature also includes references to circumstances under which it is not sinful for a Hindu to commit suicide in the physical sense. Some texts in the Sanskrit literature also distinguish between akaal mrityu, “untimely death,” an inauspicious death also including accidents and murder, as well as suicide, and kaal mrityu, “timely death,” a good death. Suicide is not automatically “untimely,” as death in specific circumstances—e.g., in the city of Varanasi (Skanda Purana) or drowning in the Ganges (Padma Purana). Expiational suicide is also the only way to atone for the murder of a Brahmin or other serious sins. In general, observes Karin Andriolo, suicide is accepted as renunciation, when approaching enlightenment; you do not lay hands on yourself but rather let nature take its course with you: you go into the water and drown, or fall from a cliff, or walk into the mountains and freeze. This distinction remains active in Hindu thought today.

See also Rammohun Roy’s [q.v.] “Translation of a Conference Between an Advocate For, and an Opponent Of, the Practice of Burning Widows Alive” for an extensive debate concerning the significance of early Hindu scriptural texts.

Sources

Rigveda X.18.7, ed. Kane, pp. 199-200; Brahma Purana 80.75; Chandogya Upanishad and Jabala Upanishad 5, in S. Radhakrishnan, ed. and tr., The Principal Upanisads. New Delhi: HarperCollins, 1994, pp. 510-511. Isa Upanishad, in Upanishads, tr. Patrick Olivelle. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1996.   Quotation in introduction from Patrick Olivelle, tr., Upanishads. Oxford, UK and New York: Oxford University Press, 1996, see esp. introduction. Material in introduction also from Wendy Doniger, The Hindus: An Alternative History. New York: Penguin, 2009, F. Max Müeller, ed., The Sacred Books of the East, vol. 1. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1879; Karin R. Andriolo, “Solemn departures and blundering escapes: traditional attitudes toward suicide in India,” International Journal of Indian Studies 3, 1 (1993):1-68, and personal communications from Karin Andriolo and Christine Everaert.

 

RIGVEDA X.18.7-8

Let these women, whose husbands are worthy and are living, enter the house with ghee (applied) as corrylium (to their eyes). Let these wives first step into the pyre, tearless without any affliction and well adorned. Rise up, woman, into the world of the living. Come here; you are lying beside a man whose life’s breath has gone. You were the wife of this man who took your hand and desired to have you.

 

CHANDOGYA UPANISHAD

Fourteenth Khanda

The individual soul identical with the infinite Brahma

  1. Verily, this whole world is Brahma. Tranquil, let one worship It as that from which he came forth, as that into which he will be dissolved, as that in which he breathes. Now, verily, a person consists of purpose (kratu-maya). According to the purpose which a person has in this world, thus does he become on departing hence. So let him form for himself a purpose.
  2. He who consists of mind, whose body is life (prana), whose form is light, whose conception is truth, whose soul (atman) is space, containing all works, containing all desires, containing all odors, containing all tastes, encompassing this whole world, the unspeaking, the concerned—
  3. this Soul of mine within the heart is smaller than a grain of rice, or a barley-corn, or a mustard seed, or a grain of millet, or the kernel of a grain of millet; this Soul of mine within the heart is greater than the earth, greater than the atmosphere, greater than the sky, greater than these worlds.
  4. Containing all works, containing all desires, containing all odors, containing all tastes, encompassing this whole world, the unspeaking, the concerned—this is the Soul of mine within the heart, this is Brahma. Into him I shall enter on departing hence. If one would believe this, he would have no more doubt.—Thus used Sandilya to say—yea, Sandilya!

 

Sixteenth Khanda

A person’s entire life symbolically a Soma-sacrifice

  1. Verily, a person is a sacrifice. His [first] twenty-four years are the morning Soma-libation, for the Gayatri meter has twenty-four syllables and the morning Soma-libation is offered with Gayatri hymn. The Vasus are connected with this part of the sacrifice. Verily, the vital breaths (prana) are the Vasus, for they cause everything here to continue (vas).
  2. If any sickness should overtake him in this period of life, let him say: ‘Ye vital breaths, ye Vasus, let this morning libation of mine continue over to the mid-day libation. Let not me, the sacrifice, be broken off in the midst of the vital breaths, of the Vasus.’ He arises from it; he becomes free from sickness.
  3. Now the [next] forty-four years are the mid-day libation, for the Trishtubh meter has forty-four syllables and the mid-day libation is offered with a Trishtubh hymn. The Rudras are connected with this part of the sacrifice. Verily, the vital breaths are the Rudras, for [on departing] they cause everything here to lament (rud).
  4. If any sickness should overtake him in this period of life, let him say: ‘Ye vital breaths, ye Rudras, let this mid-day libation of mine continue over to the third libation. Let not me, the sacrifice, be broken off in the midst of the vital breaths, of the Rudras.’ He arises from it; he becomes free from sickness.
  5. Now, the [next] forty-eight years are the third libation, for the Jagati meter has forty-eight syllables and the third libation is offered with a Jagati hymn. The Adityas are connected with this part of the sacrifice. Verily, the vital breaths are the Adityas, for [on departing] they take everything to themselves (adadate).
  6. If any sickness should overtake him in this period of life, let him say: ‘Ye vital breaths, ye Adityas, let this third libation of mine continue to a full length of life. Let not me, the sacrifice, be broken off in the midst of the vital breaths, of the Adityas.’ He arises from it; he becomes free from sickness.
  7. Verily, it was this that Mahidasa Aitareya knew when he used to say: ‘Here, why do you afflict me with this sickness—me, who am not going to die with it?’ He lived a hundred and sixteen years. He lives to a hundred and sixteen years who knows this.

 

ISHA UPANISHAD

Recognition of the unity underlying the diversity of the world

  1. By the Lord (isa) enveloped must this all be—
    Whatever moving thing there is in the moving world.
    With this renounced, though mayest enjoy.
    Covet not the wealth of anyone at all.

Non-attachment of deeds on the person of a renouncer

  1. Even while doing deeds here,
    One may desire to live a hundred years.
    Thus on thee—not other than this is it—
    The deed (karman) adheres not on the man.

The forbidding future for slayers of the Self

  1. Devilish (asurya) are those worlds called,
    With blind darkness (tamas) covered o’er!
    Unto them, on deceasing, go
    Whatever folk are slayers of the Self. . .

A dying person’s prayer

  1. With a golden vessel
    The Real’s face is covered o’er.
    That do though, O Pushan, uncover
    For one whose law is the Real to see.
  2. O Nourisher (pusan), the sole Seer (ekarsi), O Controller (yama), O Sun (surya), offspring
    of Prajapati, spread forth they rays! Gather thy brilliance (tejas)! What is they fairest form–
    that of thee I see. He who is yonder, yonder Person (purusa)—I myself am he!
  3. [My] breath (vayu) to the immortal wind (anila)!
    This body then ends in ashes! Om!O Purpose (kratu), remember! The deed (krta) remember!
    O Purpose, remember! The deed remember!

 

JABALA UPANISHAD

The Atri enquired of Yajnavalkya. On being asked how one who does not wear the sacred thread can be (treated as) a Brahmana, Yajnavalkya answered, this alone is the sacred thread of him that purifies himself by the offering and sipping water. This is the procedure for becoming a recluse. (For one who is weary of the world but not yet fit to become a recluse the following are prescribed), he may choose a hero’s death (by following the path of the warrior in the battlefield), he may fast unto death, throw himself into water or enter fire (burn himself to death) or perform the last journey (walk unto death). Then the wandering ascetic who (puts on) orange robes, who is shaven, who has non-possession, purity, non-enmity, lives on alms, obtains the state of Brahman. If he is diseased he can renounce by mind and speech. This is not to be done by one who is healthy. Such a renouncer becomes the knower of Brahman, so said the venerable Yajnavalkya.

 BRAHMA PURANA 80.75

It is the highest duty of the woman to immolate herself after her husband.

 

PADMA PURANA V.60.55

A man who, knowingly or unknowingly, willfully or unintentionally dies in the Ganges, secures on death heaven and moksha [release from the cycle of rebirth].

 

SKANDA PURANA VI.22.76

He who dies in Kashi [Varanasi] does not incur the sin of suicide but secures his desired objects.

 

Comments Off on THE VEDAS, UPANISHADS, AND PURANAS
(c. 1500-c. 500 B.C.)

Rigveda
Chandogya Upanishad
Isha Upanishad
Brahma Purana
Padma Purana
Skanda Purana
Jabala Upanishad

Filed under Ancient History, Asia, Hinduism, Puranas, Selections, Upanishads, Vedas

by | · 5:08 pm

EGYPTIAN DIDACTIC TALE
(c. 1937-1759 B.C.)

from Dialogue of a Man with His Soul

 

The didactic tale “Dialogue of a Man With His Soul,” also referred to as “A Debate Between a Man Tired of Life and His Soul” or “A Dispute over Suicide,” is believed to have been composed sometime during the 12th Dynasty (1937–1759 B.C.) of the Middle Kingdom in Egypt (2040–1759 B.C.), probably toward its end. The only copy of the papyrus scroll that survived is incomplete: the beginning of the text is missing and numerous lacunae make this text very difficult to translate, inviting sharp differences in interpretation. While scholars do not agree about the overall meaning of this masterpiece of the Egyptian literature, almost all, if not all, do agree that a man is tired of his life and is expressing his wish to go to the West, to the afterlife. His ba, most commonly translated as “soul,” is not willing to help him.

The Old Kingdom (c. 2700–2200 B.C.) had been under tight control by the pharaohs of the Fourth through the Sixth Dynasties and had seen Egypt reach the height of its material wealth and intellectual powers; earthly success and wealth were emphasized in its pragmatic, materialistic culture, and immortality could be assured with an imposing tomb, an ample mortuary endowment, the momentum of earthly success, and the favor of the divine king, the pharaoh. During that period, Egypt was subject to neither external threats from other groups nor internal instability, although after the end of the Fourth Dynasty the royal power had been gradually becoming more earthly than divine. However, with the death of Pepi II of the Sixth Dynasty, sometime around 2180—after what tradition claims was a 90-year reign—the Old Kingdom had begun to crumble, giving way to the anarchy of feuding warlords, ubiquitous violence, foreign incursion by displaced Asiatics (a focus of blame at the time), and above all intense internal strains. Responsible government had collapsed, and even the pyramids had been robbed of property belonging to the dead. Following this collapse, the First Intermediate Period had been an era of sudden and extreme disruption, its literature voicing bewilderment and despair as the stability of the Egyptian world was being overturned. This First Intermediate Period lasted until Egypt was reunited in the Eleventh Dynasty, about 2040 B.C. Whether the “Dialogue of a Man With His Soul,” stemming from the following dynasty, still reflects political anguish or is a largely personal document is not clear, but it does explore a way to escape troubles: ending one’s life.

In often obscure language, the Dialogue portrays an argument between a man and his ba; the beginning of the manuscript is lost, and the remaining portion of the dialogue opens with the man answering his soul. Plagued by misfortune, the man seems to contemplate suicide by fire. His ba, or soul, an essential element that would permeate the reanimation of the man’s living existence (akh) in another world through uniting with ka (“second self”) after the death of the physical body (khat), tries to dissuade the man. Since the concept of the ba itself is heavily disputed by Egyptologists, it is not very clear whether the man’s ba has already moved on to the West (as a separate non-physical element of its owner) or is still with the man. But it is clear what the ba fears: that if the man commits suicide as he seems to be planning, there will be no dwelling place left for it. Death by fire would mean that there could be no mummification, burial, tomb, or mortuary service. Egyptian belief held that only when a body was embalmed, given appropriate burial rites, and supplied with offerings for nourishment and other needs could its soul live on in the West, the land of the dead, and that the soul must return every night to its “house” in order to be renewed and reborn the following morning at sunrise. Thus to live eternally, the preservation of the corpse was essential.

The man, though, assures his soul that if it agrees, proper burial arrangements will be made. But the soul, concerned that these promises will soon be forgotten, says that his lot will be no better than that of a poor man, and suggests, instead of suicide, a life of wanton pleasure—perhaps a response to the political unrest that had been proposed in texts of the earlier First Intermediate Period.

The man replies with a four-part argument: (1) his name will be in evil odor if he follows the soul’s advice to adopt a life of pleasure; (2) the people of his day are wicked, goodness is rejected everywhere, and he has no true friend; (3) death will be welcome; and (4) the dead are among the gods. The soul, apparently convinced by this argument, says that whether the man chooses to remain alive or to commit suicide, it will remain with him, and that they “shall make a home together.”

John A. Wilson describes this text as “thoroughly un-Egyptian in spirit,” insofar as it abandons life and embraces death, gives up the customary funerary ceremony and psychology, and accords the individual the liberty to question the existing order. However, he acknowledges, the language of the text and its conception of the ba are purely Egyptian; the problem is that the text belongs to an atypical period of pessimism that is itself not characteristic of Egyptian culture or history.

Sources

“A Dispute Over Suicide,” from Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament, ed. James B. Pritchard, tr. John A. Wilson. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1950. Descriptive material in introduction from John A. Wilson, The Burden of Egypt, republished as The Culture of Ancient Egypt (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1951, 1956); Ahmed Okasha and Farouk Lotaief, “Egypt,” in Lee A. Headley, Suicide in Asia and the Near East (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press, 1983), p. 335; and from Ewa Wasilewska.

 

DIALOGUE OF A MAN WITH HIS SOUL

I opened my mouth to my soul, that I might answer what it had said: “This is too much for me today, that my soul no (longer) talks with me. It is really too great to be exaggerated. It is like abandoning me. Let [not] my soul go away; it should wait for me because of. . . . There is no competent person who deserts on the day of misfortune. Behold, my soul wrongs me, (but) I do not listen to it, dragging myself toward death before I come to it and casting (myself) upon the fire to burn myself up. . . . May it be near to me on the day of misfortune and wait on that side. . . . My soul is stupid to (try to) win over one wretched over life and delay me from death before I come to it. Make the West pleasant for me! Is that (so) bad? Life is a circumscribed period: (even) the trees must fall. Trample down wrongs—(yet) my wretchedness endures. Let Thoth, who propitiates the gods, judge me. Let Khonsu, the scribe in truth, defend me. Let Re, who pilots the sun barque, hear my speech. Let Isdes. . .defend me. My wretchedness is heavy. . . . Pleasant would be the defense of a god for the secrets of my body.”

What my soul said to me: “Art thou not a man? Art thou. . .whilst thou livest? What is thy goal? Thou art concerned with [burial] like a possessor of wealth!”

I said: “I have not departed as long as these things are neglected. He who carries (men) off forcibly will take, without caring about thee, (like) any criminal saying: ‘I shall carry thee off, for thy (fate) is still death, (though) thy name may live.’  (But) yonder is a place for setting down, the guide of the heart; the West is home. . . . If my soul will listen to me, an in[noc‌]ent man, and its heart agrees with me, it will be fortunate. (Then) I shall make it reach the West like one who is in his pyramid, at whose burial a survivor has stood. I shall make a shelter [over] thy corpse, (so that) thou mayest scorn another soul as inert. I shall make a shelter—now it must not be (too) cool—(so that) thou mayest scorn another soul which is (too) hot. I shall drink at the watering place and shall. . ., (so that) thou mayest scorn another soul which is hungry. If thou delayest me from a death of this fashion, thou wilt not find a place where thou canst settle down in the West. (So) be [patient], my soul and my brother, until my heir has appeared, he who will make offerings and will stand at the grave on the day of burial, so that he may prepare the bed of the cemetery.”

My soul opened its mouth to me, that it might answer what I had said: “If thou art thinking of burial that is heart’s distress. It is a bringing of tears, making a man sad. It is taking a man out of his house, (so that) he is left on the hillside, (whence) thou shalt never go up above that thou mightest see the suns. They who build in granite and who hew out chambers in a pyramid, good men in good work, as soon as the builders have become gods, their offering-stones are as bare, for lack of a survivor, as (those of) the weary ones, the dead on the dyke—the waters take hold of an end of him, and the sunlight as well, and the fish of the water-banks talk to them. Listen to me. Behold, it is good for men to listen. Pursue the happy day and forget care!

“The poor man plows his plot of ground and loads his harvest into a ship’s hold.  He makes the journey by towing (the boat), (because) his feast day is approaching. When he sees the forthcoming of an evening of high water, he is vigilant in the ship when Re retires, (and so) comes out (safely), with his wife. (But) his children are lost on the lake, treacherous with crocodiles in the night. At last he sits down, when he can take part in speech, saying: ‘I am not weeping for that girl, (although) there is no coming forth from the West for her, for another (time) on earth. (But) I am concerned about her (unborn) children, broken in the egg, who saw the face of the crocodile-god before they had (even) lived!’

“The poor man asks for an afternoon meal, (but) his wife says to him: “It’s for supper!’ He goes out-of-doors to grumble for a while. If he comes back into the house and is like another man, his wife is (still) experienced in him: that he does not listen to her (but) grumbles, unresponsive to communications.” I opened my mouth to my soul, that I might answer what it had said:

Behold, my name will reek through thee
  More than the stench of bird-droppings
  On summer days, when the sky is hot.
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  (More than) a fish-handler
  On the day of the catch, when the sky is hot.
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  More than the stench of bird-droppings,
  More than a covert of reeds with waterfowl.
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  More than the stench of fisherman,
  More than the stagnant pools which they have fished.
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  More than the stench of crocodiles,
  More than sitting in the assembly among the crocodiles.
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  More than a (married) woman
  Against whom a lie has been told because of a man.
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  More than a sturdy boy of whom it is said:
  “He belongs to his rival!”
Behold, my name will reek through thee
  (More than) a treacherous town, which plots rebellion,
  Of which (only) the outside can be seen.

***

To whom can I speak today?
  (One’s) fellows are evil;
  The friends of today do not love.
To whom can I speak today?
  Hearts are rapacious:
  Every man seizes his fellow’s goods.
(To whom can I speak today?)
  The gentle man has perished,
  (But) the violent man has access to everybody.
To whom can I speak today?
  (Even) the calm of face is wicked;
  Goodness is rejected everywhere.
To whom can I speak today?
  (Though) a man should arouse wrath by his evil character,
  He (only) stirs everyone to laughter, (so) wicked is his sin.
To whom can I speak today?
  Men are plundering;
  Every man seizes his fellow’s (goods).
To whom can I speak today?
  The foul friend is an intimate,
  (But) a brother, with whom one worked, has become an enemy.
To whom can I speak today?
  No one thinks of yesterday;
  No one at this time acts for him who has acted.
To whom can I speak today?
  (One’s) fellows are evil;
  One has recourse to strangers for uprightness of heart.
To whom can I speak today?
  Faces have disappeared:
  Every man has a downcast face toward his fellows.
To whom can I speak today?
  Hearts are rapacious;
  No man has a heart upon which one may rely.
To whom can I speak today?
  There are no righteous;
  The land is left to those who do wrong.
To whom can I speak today?
  There is lack of an intimate (friend);
  One has recourse to an unknown to complain to him.
To whom can I speak today?
  There is no one contented of heart;
  That man with whom one went, he no (longer) exists.
To whom can I speak today?
  I am laden with wretchedness
  For lack of an intimate (friend).
To whom can I speak today?
  The sin which treads the earth,
  It has no end.

Death is in my sight today
  (Like) the recovery of a sick man,
  Like going out into the open after a confinement.
Death is in my sight today
  Like the odor of myrrh
  Like sitting under an awning on a breezy day.
Death is in my sight today
  Like the odor of lotus blossoms,
  Like sitting on the bank of drunkenness.
Death is in my sight today
  Like the passing away of rain,
  Like the return of men to their houses from an expedition.
Death is in my sight today
  Like the clearing of the sky,
  Like a man fowling thereby for what he knew not.
Death is in my sight today
  Like the longing of a man to see his house (again),
  After he has spent many years held in captivity.

Why surely, he who is yonder
  Will be a living god,
  Punishing a sin of him who commits it.
Why surely, he who is yonder
  Will stand in the barque of the sun,
  Causing that the choicest (offerings) therein be given to the temples.
Why surely, he who is yonder
  Will be a man of wisdom,
  Not hindered from appealing to Re when he speaks.

What my soul said to me: “Set mourning aside, thou who belongest to me, my brother! (Although) thou be offered up on the brazier, (still) thou shalt cling to life, as thou sayest. Whether it be desirable that I (remain) here (because) thou hast rejected the West, or whether it be desirable that thou reach the West and thy body join the earth, I shall come to rest after thou hast relaxed (in death).  Thus we shall make a home together.”

It has come (to its end), its beginning to its end, as found in writing.

Comments Off on EGYPTIAN DIDACTIC TALE
(c. 1937-1759 B.C.)

from Dialogue of a Man with His Soul

Filed under Africa, Ancient History, Egyptian Didactic Tale, Selections