Four Types of Horses and Four Types of People

On the first morning of the new year, beneath the familiar temple roof, the gentle sound of the bell mingled with the cool spring breeze. The assembly sat in silence, their eyes turned toward the Dharma seat where the teacher was preparing to speak. This was the Year of the Horse, so the teacher wanted to speak about this creature—not to discuss worldly affairs, but to reflect upon the life of practice.

The teacher spoke slowly: "In the Anguttara Nikaya, the Buddha taught about four types of horses. The first type, merely seeing the shadow of a whip, before it even touches its hair, becomes spirited and gallops off immediately. The second type requires a light tap on its hair to start running. The third type must be pricked painfully in the flesh before it begins to move. The fourth type must be pierced deep into the bone before it will bolt and run."

The teacher paused, looked around the assembly, and continued: "In the same way, there are four kinds of people in their practice. The first kind, merely hearing of distant suffering, illness, and death, immediately understands that life is subject to impermanence and hastens to practice. The second kind must witness people wailing, homes burning, and deaths occurring before they are stirred to practice. The third kind must see their own loved ones—parents, siblings, spouses—meet with calamity and suffering before the truth truly touches them and they seek the path. The fourth kind must personally experience loss, failure, and illness before they awaken and decide to practice."

The teacher stopped and smiled: "You see, the first kind is of the highest capacity, understanding from a mere hint. But such people are rare. The fourth kind, though slow, is still worthy, for they eventually learn to turn around. The important thing is for each person to examine themselves, to know which kind they are, so they can know the path and strive diligently."

Then the teacher shared another story, also about horses. "Once, the Buddha asked a horse trainer: 'How many types of horses do you see?' The man replied: 'Four kinds. The first kind runs at the shadow of a whip. The second kind only runs when struck painfully. The third kind sometimes needs gentle coaxing, sometimes a strike to obey. The fourth kind will not obey no matter what; it can only be slaughtered.'"

The teacher looked down at the assembly, his voice deep and warm: "The Buddha taught that his disciples are likewise of four kinds. The first kind needs only one glance from the Tathagata to recognize their fault and correct it. The second kind requires reproof before they will cultivate. The third kind improves sometimes with praise, sometimes with scolding. The fourth kind cannot be taught and can only be let go."

The teacher paused briefly, then spoke slowly: "But do not let yourselves fall into the fourth category. Strive to be of the first kind—merely seeing your teacher's stern expression, you know your error and correct it immediately. Such a person has a sharp and responsive capacity, like a fine horse that runs at the mere shadow of a whip."

The teacher's voice grew gentler: "Moreover, the ancients had a saying: 'When the words of a noble person are once spoken, even a team of four horses cannot overtake them.' This means to be careful with your words and promises. Once you have spoken, you must act accordingly, unless the action would cause harm to many. Otherwise, hold to your word as firmly as a nail driven into wood."

The teacher concluded: "And remember the saying, 'A long road tests the strength of a horse.' Practice is the same. Do not be quick to claim you are skilled or diligent. Be steady and persevering, for the road is still very long."

The assembly sat in silence, each word of the teacher's teaching sinking deeply into their hearts. Everyone resolved to strive to be a good horse—one that only needs to see the shadow of a whip to gallop toward enlightenment.

Meaning of the Story

The story uses the image of four types of horses to represent the four capacities of human practice. The lesson is for each person to examine themselves, striving to become someone with a sharp capacity who begins to practice at the first hint of suffering, without waiting to experience it personally. It also reminds us to be mindful of our words and to persevere on the path of the Dharma.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang