4.5 The Story about the Selfish Kosiya
Macchariyakosiyavatthu

“Just as a bee, without hurting the flower,” [29.49] {1.367} this Dhamma teaching was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthī with reference to the selfish Kosiya the rich man. The story begins at Rājagaha.

It seems that in a town named Jaggery, not far from the city of Rājagaha, lived a certain rich man named Kosiya, possessed of 800 million of treasure. Never a drop of oil small enough to stand on the tip of a blade of grass did he give to others or use for himself. The result was that his wealth, great as it was, yielded no enjoyment to his sons and daughters or to ascetics and Brahmins, but remained unused, like a pool haunted by Rakkhasas.

One day, early in the morning, the Teacher arose from the attainment of great compassion and with the eye of a Buddha looked out upon his kinsmen in the faith all over the universe. As he did so, he beheld, living at a distance of forty-five leagues, the rich man and his wife and perceived that they possessed the supporting conditions for attaining the fruition of Stream-entry.

Now on the preceding day the rich man went to the royal palace to wait upon the king. On his way home, after waiting upon the king, he saw a half-starved countryman eating a round cake filled with sour gruel. The sight made him hungry. When he reached his own home, he thought to himself: “If I say openly: ‘I should like to have a round cake to eat,’ there will be many others who will wish to eat with me. In that case a great quantity of sesame, rice, ghee, jaggery, and other provisions will be consumed. I will therefore say nothing to anyone.” So he walked about, enduring hunger as best he could. But as the hours went by, he grew yellow and yet more yellow, and the veins stood out all over his body. Finally, unable to endure hunger any longer, he went into his chamber and lay down hugging his bed. {1.368} But in spite of his distress, so great was his fear of wasting his wealth that he said nothing to anybody.

As he lay upon his bed, his wife approached him, rubbed his back, and asked him: “Husband, what is the matter with you?” – “There is nothing the matter with me.” – “Is the king put out with you?” – “No, the king is not put out with me.” – “Then perhaps your sons [29.50] and daughters, or your slaves and servants, have done something to displease you?” – “Nothing of the sort.” – “But perhaps you have a craving for something?” When his wife said that, so great was his fear of wasting his wealth that he answered her never a word, but lay speechless on his bed. Then his wife said to him: “Tell me, husband. What is it you have a craving for?” Then said her husband, swallowing his words as he spoke them: “Yes, I have a craving for something.” – “What is it you have a craving for, husband?” – “I should like a round cake to eat.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Are you a poor man? I will straightaway have enough round cakes baked to feed all the inhabitants of the town of Jaggery.” – “Why concern yourself about them? They might better work and earn money for themselves to buy food.” – “Very well, I will bake enough cakes to feed the inhabitants of one street.” – “I have always thought you too generous.” – “Then I will bake enough cakes to feed all who live in this house.” – “I have always thought you are like a great fish.” – “Very well, I will bake only enough cakes for you and your children and your wife.” – “Why concern yourself about them?” – “Very well, I will bake just enough for you and me.” – “Why should you care to have any?” {1.369} – “Very well, I will bake just enough for you alone.”

Then said her husband: “There are a great many people on the outlook for cooking in this house. Therefore save out the whole grains of rice, use only the broken grains, and take the brazier and the potsherds and just a little milk and ghee and honey and jaggery, and go up to the top floor of our seven-storied mansion, and there I will sit down all by myself and eat.” – “Very well,” replied his wife, promising to carry out his wishes.

So she caused the necessary things to be procured, and having climbed to the top of the house, dismissed the servants and caused her husband to be summoned. Her husband climbed from one floor to another, closing and bolting each door after him, until finally he reached the seventh floor. Then, after closing and bolting the door, he sat down. His wife started a fire in the brazier, placed a potsherd on the brazier, and began to cook the cake.

Now early in the morning the Teacher addressed Elder Mahā Moggallāna: “Moggallāna, in yonder town of Jaggery, close to the city of Rājagaha, a selfish rich man, desiring to eat fried cakes, but afraid that somebody else may see him, is having cakes fried in his seven-storied mansion. Go there, overcome that rich man, inculcate in him the virtue of self-denial, take the rich man and his [29.51] wife and the cakes and the milk and ghee and honey and jaggery, and by your own power convey them to Jetavana. Today I will sit with my five hundred bhikkhus in the monastery and will make my meal of those very cakes.” – “Very well, venerable Sir,” replied the elder, promising to carry out the Teacher’s command. {1.370}

In but an instant, by virtue of his psychic power, the elder proceeded to that town. And before the window of that mansion, properly garbed in under and outer garments, he stood poised in the air like a jeweled image. When the rich man saw the elder, his heart’s flesh quivered and quaked. “It was for fear of just such persons,” he said, “that I came to this place; yet here this fellow comes and stands in front of my window.”

Not realizing that the elder would inevitably get what he must needs get, sputtering with anger, even as when salt and sugar are thrown into a fire, the rich man spoke thus: “Ascetic, what do you expect to get by standing poised in the air? You may walk up and down till you cause a path to appear in the pathless air, but for all that you will get nothing by it.” The elder continued to walk back and forth right there, as before.

Said the rich man: “What do you expect to get by walking back and forth? You may sit down cross-legged in the air, but for all that you will get nothing by it.” The elder folded his legs and sat down cross-legged. Then said the rich man to him: “What do you expect to get by sitting down cross-legged? You may come and stand on the window-sill, but for all that you will get nothing by it.” Then the elder came and stood on the window-sill. Then said the rich man to him: “What do you expect to get by coming and standing on the window-sill? You may belch forth smoke, but for all that you will get nothing by it.”

Then the elder belched forth smoke until the whole mansion was one mass of smoke. The rich man felt as though his eyes had been pierced with needles. He was so afraid the house might catch fire that he refrained from saying: “You may burst into flames, but for all that you will get nothing by it.” He thought to himself: “This bhikkhu sticks fast and will not depart until he gets something. {1.371} I will have him given one cake.” So he said to his wife: “Dear wife, cook one little cake, give it to the bhikkhu, and get rid of him.”

His wife took just a little dough and put it in the pot. But it grew to be a big cake and filled the vessel to overflowing. When the rich man saw it, he thought to himself: “She must have taken a big piece of dough.” So he himself took ever so little dough on the tip of [29.52] a spoon and put it in the pot. But it became a bigger cake than the previous one. In like manner each cake they cooked was larger than the preceding ones. Finally, in despair, the rich man said to his wife: “Dear wife, give him a single cake.”

But when his wife tried to take one cake from the basket, all the cakes stuck together. The rich man’s wife said to her husband: “Husband, the cakes all stick together. I cannot separate them.” – “I will separate them,” replied the rich man. But try as he might, he was unable to do so. Finally the rich man took hold of one end, and his wife took hold of the other end, and the two pulled with might and main. But for all that they were unable to separate the cakes.

As the rich man struggled with the cakes, sweat poured forth from his body and his craving disappeared. Thereupon he said to his wife: “Wife, I have no need of the cakes. Take the cakes and the basket and give them to him.” So his wife took the basket and approached the elder. The elder taught the Dhamma to the rich man and his wife, proclaiming the virtues of the Three Jewels. {1.372} Beginning with the words: “There is the given, there is the offered, AJ: this is the opening of the definition of mundane right view. I have added the deifinition in. there is the sacrificed; there is fruit and result of good and bad actions; there is this world, there is the other world; there is mother, there is father; there are beings who are reborn spontaneously; there are in the world ascetics and Brahmins who are on the right path, with right practice, who declare this world and the next world themselves after realising through super knowledge for themselves.” He made the fruit of almsgiving and of the other works of merit as plain as the moon in the sky.

As the rich man listened to him, his heart believed, and he said: “Venerable Sir, draw near, sit down on this couch, and eat.” The elder replied: “Rich man, the Sambuddha is sitting in the monastery, expecting to eat these cakes. Therefore, rich man, if it so please you, bid your wife take the cakes and the milk and the other provisions, and let us go to the Teacher.” – “But, venerable Sir, where is the Teacher at this moment?” – “Rich man, he is at the Jetavana monastery, some forty-five leagues from here.” – “Venerable Sir, how can we travel such a long distance without spending a great deal of time on the way?”

“Rich man, if it so please you, I will convey you there by my own psychic power. The head of the staircase in your mansion shall remain in its proper place, but the foot of the staircase shall stand at the battlemented gate of Jetavana. I will convey you to Jetavana in less time than it would take you to go from the upper floor of your house to the lower floor.” – “Very well, venerable Sir,” said the rich man, agreeing to the proposal. So the elder, allowing the head of the staircase to remain where it was, commanded: “Let the foot of the staircase stand at the battlemented gate of Jetavana.” And it was so. The elder conveyed the rich man and his wife to [29.53] Jetavana in less time than it would have taken them to go from the upper floor of their house to the lower floor.

The rich man and his wife both approached the Teacher and informed him that it was meal-time. Thereupon the Teacher entered the refectory and seated himself in the seat of the Buddha, already prepared, with the Saṅgha of bhikkhus about him. The rich man gave the water of donation to the Saṅgha of bhikkhus presided over by the Buddha. {1.373} The rich man’s wife placed a cake in the Realised One’s bowl. The Teacher took as much as he needed to support life, and the Saṅgha of bhikkhus likewise took as much as they needed to support life. The rich man went about distributing milk and ghee and honey and jaggery.

The Teacher and his five hundred bhikkhus completed their meal, and the rich man and his wife ate as much as they desired to eat. Yet there was no end to the cakes that remained. Even after distribution had been made to the bhikkhus of the entire monastery and to the eaters of leftovers, there was still no end to the cakes that remained. “Venerable Sir,” they reported to the Fortunate One, “the cakes suffer no diminution.” – “Very well,” he replied, “throw them away at the battlemented gate of Jetavana.” So they threw them away in a cave near the battlemented gate of Jetavana. To this day that place goes by the name of “Fried Cake Mountain.”

Then the rich man with his wife approached the Fortunate One and stood respectfully on one side. The Fortunate One pronounced the words of thanksgiving. At the conclusion of the words of thanksgiving both the rich man and his wife were established in the fruition of Stream-entry. Then they worshipped the Teacher, and mounting the staircase at the battlemented gate, found themselves in their own house. From that time forwards the rich man spent 800 million of treasure solely on the dispensation of the Buddha.

On the evening of the following day, when the bhikkhus assembled in the Dhamma Hall, they exclaimed: “Behold, friends, the supernatural power of Elder Mahā Moggallāna! Without impairing faith, without impairing riches, {1.374} he subdued in a moment the selfish rich man, made him self-denying, conveyed him to Jetavana, causing him to take his cakes with him, set him face to face with the Teacher, and established him in the fruition of Stream-entry. Oh, how great is the supernatural power of the elder!” Thus, as they sat together in the Dhamma Hall, did they praise the virtues of the elder.

By the Deva-ear the Teacher overheard them, and [29.54] entering the Dhamma Hall, asked them: “Bhikkhus, what is the subject you are discussing now, as you sit here all gathered together?” When they told him, he said: “Bhikkhus, a bhikkhu who would convert a household without impairing faith, without impairing riches, without wearying or oppressing that household, must approach that household to make known the virtues of the Buddha as a bee approaches a flower to gather honey therefrom. Such a bhikkhu is my son Moggallāna.” And in praise of the elder he pronounced the following verse:

49. Yathā pi bhamaro pupphaṁ vaṇṇagandhaṁ aheṭhayaṁ
paḷeti rasam-ādāya, evaṁ gāme munī care.

Just as a bee, without hurting
the flower, its colour or scent,
gathers its nectar and escapes,
so should the seer roam in village. {1.376}

At the end of the teaching many reached the fruition of Stream-entry and so on.

When the Teacher had given this Dhamma teaching, he continued his discourse for the purpose of proclaiming the virtues of the elder, saying: “Bhikkhus, this is not the first time that rich man has been converted by the Elder Moggallāna. In a previous state of existence also he converted him by teaching him the connection between a deed and the fruit thereof.” And to make the matter clearer he related

The Illīsa Birth Story AJ: Ja 78, the commentary had only the verse, I include the full story here.

In the past when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there was a rich man, Illīsa by name, who was worth 800 million, and had all the defects which fall to the lot of man. He was lame and crook-backed and had a squint; he was an unconverted infidel, and a miser, never giving of his store to others, nor enjoying it himself; his house was like a pool haunted by Rakkhasas. Yet, for seven generations, his ancestors had been bountiful, giving freely of their best; but, when he became a rich man, he broke through the traditions of his house. Burning down the alms house and driving the poor with blows from his gates, he hoarded his wealth.

One day, when he was returning from attendance on the king, he saw a villager, who had journeyed far and was weary, seated on a bench, and filling a mug from a jar of rank spirits, and drinking it off, with a dainty morsel of stinking dried-fish as a relish. The sight made the rich man feel a thirst for spirits, but he thought to himself, “If I drink, others will want to drink with me, and that means a ruinous expense.” So he walked about, keeping his thirst under control. But, as time wore on, he could do so no longer; he grew as yellow as old cotton; and the veins stood out on his sunken frame. On a day, retiring to his chamber, he lay down hugging his bed. His wife came to him, and rubbed his back, as she asked: “What has gone amiss with my lord?”

But, when she in her turn said: “Then I’ll only brew liquor enough for you,” he said: “If you make the brew in the house, there will be many on the watch; and to send out for the spirits and sit and drink it here, is out of the question.” So he produced one single penny, and sent a slave to fetch him a jar of spirits from the tavern. When the slave came back, he made him go from the town to the riverside and put the jar down in a remote thicket. “Now be off!” said he, and made the slave wait some distance off, while he filled his cup and fell to.

Now the rich man’s father, who for his generosity and other good works had been reborn as Sakka in the Realm of Devas, was at that moment wondering whether his bounty was still kept up or not, and became aware of the stopping of his bounty, and of his son’s behaviour. He saw how his son, breaking through the traditions of his house, had burnt the alms house to the ground, had driven the poor with blows from his gates, and how, in his miserliness, fearing to share with others, that son had stolen away to a thicket to drink by himself. Moved by the sight, Sakka cried: “I will go to him and make my son see that deeds must have their consequences; I will work his conversion, and make him charitable and worthy of rebirth in the Realm of Devas.” So he came down to earth, and once more trod the ways of men, putting on the semblance of the rich man Illīsa, with the latter’s lameness, and crookback, and squint. In this guise, he entered the city of Rājagaha and made his way to the palace-gate, where he bade his coming be announced to the king. “Let him approach,” said the king; and he entered and stood with due obeisance before his majesty.

“What brings you here at this unusual hour, rich man?” said the king. “I am come, sire, because I have in my house 800 million of treasure. Deign to have them carried to fill the royal treasury.” – “Nay, rich man; the treasure within my palace is greater than this.” – “If you, sire, will not have it, I shall give it away to whom I will.” – “Do so by all means, rich man,” said the king. “So be it, sire,” said the pretended Illīsa, as with due obeisance he departed from the presence to the rich man’s house. The servants all gathered round him, but not one could tell that it was not their real master. Entering, he stood on the threshold and sent for the porter, to whom he gave orders that if anybody resembling himself should appear and claim to be master of the house they should soundly cudgel such a one and throw him out. Then, mounting the stairs to the upper story, he sat down on a gorgeous couch and sent for Illīsa’s wife. When she came he said with a smile: “My dear, let us be bountiful.”

At these words, wife, children, and servants all thought: “It’s a long time since he was this way minded. He must have been drinking to be so good-natured and generous today.” And his wife said to him: “Be as bountiful as you please, my husband.” – “Send for the crier,” said he, “and bid him proclaim by beat of drum all through the city that everyone who wants gold, silver, diamonds, pearls, and the like, is to come to the house of Illīsa the rich man.” His wife did as he bade, and a large crowd soon assembled at the door carrying baskets and sacks. Then Sakka bade the treasure-chambers be thrown open, and cried: “This is my gift to you; take what you will and go your ways.” And the crowd seized on the riches there stored, and piled them in heaps on the floor and filled the bags and vessels they had brought, and went off laden with the spoils. Among them was a countryman who yoked Illīsa’s oxen to Illīsa’s carriage, filled it with the seven things of price, and journeyed out of the city along the highroad. As he went along, he drew near the thicket, and sang the rich man’s praises in these words: “May you live to be a hundred, my good lord Illīsa! What you have done for me this day will enable me to live without doing another stroke of work. Whose were these oxen? Yours. Whose was this carriage? Yours. Whose the wealth in the carriage? Yours again. It was no father or mother who gave me all this; no, it came solely from you, my lord.”

These words filled the rich man with fear and trembling. “Why, the fellow is mentioning my name in his talk,” said he to himself. “Can the king have been distributing my wealth to the people?” At the bare thought he bounded from the bush, and, recognizing his own oxen and cart, seized the oxen by the cord, crying: “Stop, fellow; these oxen and this cart belong to me.” Down leaped the man from the cart, angrily exclaiming: “You rascal! Illīsa, the rich man, is giving away his wealth to all the city. What has come to you?” And he sprang at the rich man and struck him on the back like a falling thunder-bolt, and went off with the cart. Illīsa picked himself up, trembling in every limb, wiped off the mud, and hurrying after his cart, seized hold of it. Again the countryman got down, and seizing Illīsa by the hair, doubled him up and thumped him about the head for some time; then taking him by the throat, he flung him back the way he had come, and drove off.

Sobered by this rough usage, Illīsa hurried off home. There, seeing folk making off with the treasure, he fell to laying hands on here a man and there a man, shrieking: “Hi! What’s this? Is the king despoiling me?” And every man he laid hands on knocked him down. Bruised and smarting, he sought to take refuge in his own house, when the porters stopped him with: “Hello, you rascal! Where might you be going?” And first thrashing him soundly with bamboos, they took their master by the throat and threw him out of doors. “There is none but the king left to see me righted,” groaned Illīsa, and betook himself to the palace. “Why, oh why, sire,” he cried, “have you plundered me like this?”

“Nay, it was not I, rich man,” said the king. “Did you not yourself come and declare your intention of giving your wealth away, if I would not accept it? And did you not then send the crier round and carry out your threat?” – “Oh sire, indeed it was not I that came to you on such an errand. Your majesty knows how near and close I am, and how I never give away so much as the tiniest drop of oil which a blade of grass will take up. May it please your majesty to send for him who has given my substance away, and to question him on the matter.”

Then the king sent for Sakka. And so exactly alike were the two that neither the king nor his court could tell which was the real rich man. Said the miser Illīsa: “Who, and what, sire, is this rich man? I am the rich man.”

“Well, really I can’t say which is the real Illīsa,” said the king. “Is there anybody who can distinguish them for certain?” – “Yes, sire, my wife.” So the wife was sent for and asked which of the two was her husband. And she said Sakka was her husband and went to his side. Then in turn Illīsa’s children and servants were brought in and asked the same question; and all with one accord declared Sakka was the real rich man. Here it flashed across Illīsa’s mind that he had a wart on his head, hidden among his hair, the existence of which was known only to his barber. So, as a last resource, he asked that his barber might be sent for to identify him. Now at this time the Bodhisatta was his barber. Accordingly, the barber was sent for and asked if he could distinguish the real from the false Illīsa. “I could tell, sire,” said he, “if I might examine their heads.” – “Then look at both their heads,” said the king. On the instant Sakka caused a wart to rise on his head! After examining the two, the Bodhisatta reported that, as both alike had got warts on their heads, he couldn’t for the life of him say which was the real man. And therewithal he uttered this verse:

Both are lame, both are handicapped,
both of them have eyes that are crossed,
warts have arisen on both, I
do not see which is Illīsa.

Hearing his last hope thus fail him, the rich man fell into a tremble; and such was his intolerable anguish at the loss of his beloved riches, that down he fell in a swoon. Thereupon Sakka put forth his transcendental powers, and, rising in the air, addressed the king thence in these words: “Not Illīsa am I, O king, but Sakka.” Then those around wiped Illīsa’s face and dashed water over him. Recovering, he rose to his feet and bowed to the ground before Sakka, King of Devas. Then said Sakka: “Illīsa, mine was the wealth, not thine; I am your father, and you are my son. In my lifetime I was bountiful toward the poor and rejoiced in doing good; wherefore, I am advanced to this high estate and am become Sakka. But you, walking not in my footsteps, are grown a niggard and a very miser; you have burnt my alms house to the ground, driven the poor from the gate, and hoarded your riches. You have no enjoyment thereof thyself, nor has any other human being; but your store is become like a pool haunted by Rakkhasas, whereat no man may slake his thirst. Albeit, if you will rebuild my alms house and show bounty to the poor, it shall be accounted to you for righteousness. But, if you will not, then will I strip you of all that you have, and cleave your head with the thunderbolt of Sakka, and you shall die.”

At this threat Illīsa, quaking for his life, cried out: “Henceforth I will be bountiful.” And Sakka accepted his promise, and, still seated in mid-air, established his son in the precepts and preached the Dhamma to him, departing thereafter to his own abode. And Illīsa was diligent in generosity and other good works, and so assured his rebirth thereafter in heaven.