I am aware of that,[1] and I am saddened by it. You are disturbed, and—as he who is infallible tells us—you are troubled in vain. Yes, you are storing up treasures. Even though we grant that you are successful in every transaction, even though we say nothing about your losses, even though we make no mention of the great risks and the deaths that accompany every profitable transaction (I do not mean corporeal deaths; I mean the deaths that are occasioned by evil designs—for veracity dies so that profits may increase), yet, you are being inwardly stripped bare so that you may be outwardly adorned. Yes, suppose that we ignore those facts and make no reference to certain other facts; suppose that we disregard your reverses and consider only your successes. In that case, you are storing up treasures, profits are pouring in from all sides, money is flowing into your coffers as if in a fountain, and whenever a need arises it is engulfed by abundance. Nevertheless, have you not heard: If riches abound, do not set your heart on them? Yes, you are growing rich; so you are not disturbed unprofitably. Nevertheless, you are disturbed in vain. But you ask me, Why am I disturbed in vain? See, I am filling my coffers, and my storehouses can hardly contain the treasures I am acquiring. How, then, am I disquieted in vain? Because you are storing up treasures, and you do not know for whom you are gathering them. Or, if you know it, I beseech you to tell me. I would hear you tell me that. So, if you are not disturbed in vain, tell me for whom you are gathering treasures. For myself, you reply. Do you dare to say that, although you must die? For my children, you reply. Do you dare to say that, since they, too, must die? It is a pious duty for a parent to store up treasures for his children! Rather, since a person must die, it is a great vanity for him to store up treasures for those who must die. If it is for yourself, why are you gathering treasures that you must leave behind when you die? This is also the case with regard to your children; they are to succeed you, but they are not to abide forever. I refrain from asking, For what kind of children? Perhaps debauchery may squander what avarice has amassed. By loose living, someone else squanders what you have amassed by your labors. But I leave this out of account. Perhaps your children will be upright, not dissolute. Perhaps they will preserve what you will have left and increase what you have saved, not dissipate what you have gathered. If your children do this, if in this regard they imitate you, their father, then they are just as vain as you are. What I was saying to you, I say to them. To your son I put this question: For whom are you gathering? To him also I say, You are storing up treasures, and you do not know for whom you are gathering them. For just as you do not know, so neither does he. Even if vanity has remained in him, has truth therefore lost its force for him?