Of Poverty of Spirit Amidst Riches.
_Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven._ Wretched, therefore, are the rich in spirit, for theirs is the misery of hell. He is rich in spirit who has riches in his spirit, or his spirit in riches. He, on the contrary, is poor in spirit who has neither riches in his spirit, nor his spirit in riches. The halcyons make their nests like an apple, and leave in them only a very small opening at the top: they place them on the edge of the sea, and make them so firm and impenetrable that the water, coming upon them, cannot enter; but, ever keeping above, they remain in the midst of the sea, upon the sea, and masters of the sea. Your heart, dear Philothea, should be like this, open only to Heaven, and impenetrable to the riches and perishable goods of this world. If you have any, beware of attaching your heart to them: let it always keep above, and, amid riches, be without riches and master of riches. No, do not put this heavenly spirit into earthly goods; make it always reign over them, be above them and not within them.
There is a great difference between having poison and being poisoned. Apothecaries almost all keep poisons to use on various occasions; but they are not therefore poisoned, because they have these poisons not in their bodies, but in their shop. So may you have riches without being poisoned by them: this will be so if you have them in your house or in your purse, and not in your heart. To be rich in fact and poor in affection is the great happiness of the Christian; for by this means he has the advantages of wealth for this world, and the merit of poverty for the next.
_Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven._ Wretched, therefore, are the rich in spirit, for theirs is the misery of hell. He is rich in spirit who has riches in his spirit, or his spirit in riches. He, on the contrary, is poor in spirit who has neither riches in his spirit, nor his spirit in riches. The halcyons make their nests like an apple, and leave in them only a very small opening at the top: they place them on the edge of the sea, and make them so firm and impenetrable that the water, coming upon them, cannot enter; but, ever keeping above, they remain in the midst of the sea, upon the sea, and masters of the sea. Your heart, dear Philothea, should be like this, open only to Heaven, and impenetrable to the riches and perishable goods of this world. If you have any, beware of attaching your heart to them: let it always keep above, and, amid riches, be without riches and master of riches. No, do not put this heavenly spirit into earthly goods; make it always reign over them, be above them and not within them.
There is a great difference between having poison and being poisoned. Apothecaries almost all keep poisons to use on various occasions; but they are not therefore poisoned, because they have these poisons not in their bodies, but in their shop. So may you have riches without being poisoned by them: this will be so if you have them in your house or in your purse, and not in your heart. To be rich in fact and poor in affection is the great happiness of the Christian; for by this means he has the advantages of wealth for this world, and the merit of poverty for the next.
Alas! Philothea, no one will ever confess that he is avaricious; everyone disavows this baseness of soul: they excuse themselves on account of the number of their children, on the ground of the prudence which requires them to take measures to establish themselves: one can never have too much. There is always some good reason to have more; and even the most avaricious not only do not admit that they are so, but in their own conscience do not think themselves so: no, they give it no thought; for avarice is a fever of a wondrous kind: the more violent and burning it is, the less one feels it. Moses saw the sacred fire burn a bush without consuming it; but, on the contrary, the profane fire of avarice consumes and devours the avaricious man without burning him at all. At least, amid its fiercest heat, he boasts that he breathes the sweetest coolness in the world, and holds that his insatiable thirst is a wholly natural and wholly good one.
If you continually, ardently, and anxiously desire the goods you do not possess, you may well say that you do not wish to have them unjustly, but you will nonetheless truly be avaricious. He who continually, greedily, and anxiously longs to drink, even though he wishes to drink nothing but water, shows clearly enough that he has a fever.
O Philothea! I know not whether it is a just desire to wish to have justly what another justly possesses; for it seems that by this desire we would provide for ourselves by inconveniencing others. Has not he who justly possesses a good more reason to keep it justly than we have to obtain it justly? And why then do we extend our desire to his good, in order to deprive him of it? Assuredly, even were this desire just, it would not be charitable; for we would not wish anyone to desire, even justly, what we wish to keep justly. This was the sin of Ahab, who wished to have justly the vineyard of Naboth, which Naboth wished still more justly to keep; he desired it ardently, for a long time, and with anxiety; and therefore he offended God.
If you continually, ardently, and anxiously desire the goods you do not possess, you may well say that you do not wish to have them unjustly, but you will nonetheless truly be avaricious. He who continually, greedily, and anxiously longs to drink, even though he wishes to drink nothing but water, shows clearly enough that he has a fever.
O Philothea! I know not whether it is a just desire to wish to have justly what another justly possesses; for it seems that by this desire we would provide for ourselves by inconveniencing others. Has not he who justly possesses a good more reason to keep it justly than we have to obtain it justly? And why then do we extend our desire to his good, in order to deprive him of it? Assuredly, even were this desire just, it would not be charitable; for we would not wish anyone to desire, even justly, what we wish to keep justly. This was the sin of Ahab, who wished to have justly the vineyard of Naboth, which Naboth wished still more justly to keep; he desired it ardently, for a long time, and with anxiety; and therefore he offended God.
Wait, dear Philothea, until your neighbour begins to desire to be rid of his possessions before desiring them for him; for then his desire will make yours not only just, but charitable. Yes, I would have you take care to increase your means and your possessions, provided you do so not only justly, but also gently and charitably.
If you are greatly attached to the goods you possess, if you are much concerned about them, setting your heart and thoughts upon them, and fearing with a lively and anxious fear to lose them, believe me, you still have a kind of fever; for those who have a fever drink the water given them with a certain eagerness and a kind of attentiveness and delight that healthy people are not wont to have. It is impossible to take great pleasure in a thing and not be greatly attached to it. If it happens that you lose possessions and feel your heart greatly distressed thereby, believe, Philothea, that you are greatly attached to them; for nothing shows so well how attached one is to a thing as the distress caused by its loss.
Desire not, then, with a resolute desire, the goods you do not possess; set not your heart too deeply upon those you do possess; grieve not over the losses that may befall you; and then you will have some reason to believe that, though in fact you are rich, you are not so in affection, but are poor in spirit, and therefore blessed, since the Kingdom of Heaven is yours.
If you are greatly attached to the goods you possess, if you are much concerned about them, setting your heart and thoughts upon them, and fearing with a lively and anxious fear to lose them, believe me, you still have a kind of fever; for those who have a fever drink the water given them with a certain eagerness and a kind of attentiveness and delight that healthy people are not wont to have. It is impossible to take great pleasure in a thing and not be greatly attached to it. If it happens that you lose possessions and feel your heart greatly distressed thereby, believe, Philothea, that you are greatly attached to them; for nothing shows so well how attached one is to a thing as the distress caused by its loss.
Desire not, then, with a resolute desire, the goods you do not possess; set not your heart too deeply upon those you do possess; grieve not over the losses that may befall you; and then you will have some reason to believe that, though in fact you are rich, you are not so in affection, but are poor in spirit, and therefore blessed, since the Kingdom of Heaven is yours.