Worldly wealth is the Devil's bait; and those whose minds feed

In a voice filled with both warning and wonder, Robert Burton, the scholar and divine of the seventeenth century, once wrote: “Worldly wealth is the Devil’s bait; and those whose minds feed upon riches recede, in general, from real happiness, in proportion as their stores increase, as the moon, when she is fullest, is farthest from the sun.” These words, drawn from his immortal work The Anatomy of Melancholy, carry the weight of ancient truth and timeless wisdom. They speak not only to the corruption of greed, but to the deeper tragedy of the human heart — that in chasing after glittering illusions, we drift ever farther from the light of true happiness.

Burton, a man of profound intellect and reflection, lived in an age of both wonder and discontent. The world he knew was awakening to exploration, trade, and material growth — yet it was also a world burdened by spiritual emptiness. He saw how men, dazzled by riches, mistook accumulation for fulfillment. And so he likened wealth to the Devil’s bait, a cunning lure that tempts the soul into captivity. Just as the fisherman hides the hook within a morsel of food, so the world hides despair within prosperity. To “feed upon riches,” as Burton says, is to feast upon emptiness, for the appetite of greed is endless. The more it consumes, the hungrier it becomes.

His metaphor of the moon and the sun reveals a profound spiritual law. When the moon is full — radiant, magnificent, and seemingly complete — she stands farthest from the sun, her source of light. Likewise, when a person’s worldly fortune appears greatest, they are often farthest from the source of spiritual warmth and contentment. For in fullness of possession, the heart forgets its need; pride grows where gratitude once dwelled. Wealth, though outwardly luminous, can cast inward shadows if it turns the soul from humility, compassion, and awe. Thus, the fullness of riches may bring not joy, but melancholy — the very ailment Burton sought to understand in his life’s work.

This truth has echoed through every age. Consider the story of King Midas, whose touch turned all to gold. At first, he rejoiced in his power, believing himself blessed. Yet soon, his food turned to metal in his hands, his daughter became lifeless gold, and his heart broke beneath the weight of his own desire. In his wealth, he found not abundance, but isolation — not joy, but despair. The same lesson was taught by the wise Stoics and by the saints: that riches are not evil in themselves, but deadly when they become the food of the soul. To live for wealth is to starve the spirit.

And yet, Burton’s message is not one of condemnation, but of redemption. He does not tell us to despise the world, but to see it clearly. Wealth, he reminds us, is a servant, not a master. It may provide comfort, but it cannot bestow peace. True happiness is found not in accumulation, but in harmony — in keeping one’s heart near the sun, even as the moon waxes and wanes. The wise man may possess riches, but he remains unmoved by them; he uses them as tools for good, never as idols for worship.

The “Devil’s bait” lies not in gold or silver themselves, but in attachment — in the illusion that security or worth can be purchased. To resist this temptation requires courage and clarity, the inner strength to measure wealth not by what one owns, but by what one can give. The one who shares his abundance, who sees fortune as stewardship rather than conquest, remains close to the sun. The one who clings and covets grows cold and dark, however bright his treasures may seem.

Let this then be the teaching for all generations: seek not fullness of possession, but fullness of spirit. Guard your heart from the seductions of vanity and greed. Enjoy the blessings that come to you, but do not let them rule you. When fortune smiles, give thanks — and give freely. When hardship comes, do not despair, for it is often in scarcity that the soul draws nearest to the light.

For as Robert Burton so wisely reminds us, the man who feeds upon riches feeds upon dust, but the one who feeds upon virtue drinks from the fountain of joy. True wealth lies not in gold, but in gratitude; not in abundance, but in balance; not in the fullness of the moon, but in the steadfast warmth of the sun. Therefore, let your heart remain close to that sun — the source of truth, goodness, and light — and no shadow of fortune will ever claim you.