Illisa Jataka: The Miserly Treasurer (Jat 78)

　　This story was told by the Buddha while at Jetavana Monastery, about a tremendously rich royal treasurer, who lived in a town called Sakkara near the city of Rajagaha. He had been so tightfisted that he never gave away even the tiniest drop of oil you could pick up with a blade of grass. Worse than that, he wouldn”t even use that minuscule amount for his own satisfaction. His vast wealth was actually of no use to him, to his family, or to the deserving people of the land.

　　Moggallana, however, led this miser and his wife to Jetavana, where they served a great meal of cakes to the Buddha and five hundred bhikkhus. After hearing words of thanks from the Buddha, the royal treasurer and his wife attained stream-entry.

　　That evening the bhikkhus gathered together in the Hall of Truth. "How great is the power of the Venerable Moggallana!" they said. "In a moment he converted the miser to charity, brought him to Jetavana, and made possible his attainment. How remarkable is the elder!" While they were talking, the Buddha entered and asked the subject of their discussion.

　　When they told him, the Buddha replied, "This is not the first time, bhikkhus, that Moggallana has converted this miserly treasurer. In previous days too the elder taught him how deeds and their effects are linked together." Then the Buddha told this story of the past.

　　Long, long ago, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Baranasi, there was a treasurer named Illisa who was worth eighty crores of wealth. This man had all the defects possible in a person. He was lame and hunchbacked, and he had a squint. He was a confirmed miser, never giving away any of his fortune to others, yet never enjoying it himself.

　　Interestingly enough, however, for seven generations back his ancestors had been bountiful, giving freely of their best. When this treasurer inherited the family riches, he broke that tradition and began hoarding his wealth.

　　One day, as he was returning from an audience with the king, he saw a weary peasant sitting on a bench and drinking a mug of cheap liquor with great gusto. The sight made the treasurer thirsty for a drink of liquor himself, but he thought, "If I drink, others will want to drink with me. That would mean a ruinous expense!" The more he tried to suppress his thirst, the stronger the craving grew.

　　The effort to overcome his thirst made him as yellow as old cotton. He became thinner and thinner until the veins stood out on his emaciated frame. After a few days, still unable to forget about the liquor, he went into his room and lay down, hugging his bed. His wife came in, rubbed his back, and asked, "Husband, what is wrong

　　"

　　"Nothing," he said.

　　"Perhaps the king is angry with you," she suggested.

　　"No, he is not."

　　"Have your children or servants done anything to annoy you

　　" she queried.

　　"Not at all."

　　"Well, then, do you have a craving for something

　　"

　　Because of his preposterous fear that he might waste his fortune, he still would not say a word.

　　"Speak, husband," she pleaded. "Tell me what you have a craving for."

　　"Well," he said slowly, "I do have a craving for one thing."

　　"What is that, my husband

　　"

　　"I want a drink of liquor," he whispered.

　　"Why didn”t you say so before

　　" she exclaimed with relief. "I”ll brew enough liquor to serve the whole town."

　　"No!" he cried. "Don”t bother about other people. Let them earn their own drink!"

　　"Well then, I”ll make just enough for our street."

　　"How rich you are!"

　　"Then, just for our household."

　　"How extravagant!"

　　"All right, only us and our children."

　　"Why fuss about them

　　"

　　"Very well, let it be just enough for the two of us.

　　"Do you need any

　　"

　　"Of course not. I”ll brew a little liquor only for you."

　　"Wait! If you brew any liquor in the house, man…

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