“I think,” said the judge, with that impressive cough which is the rightful indulgence of a man who has written a volume on the rules of evidence, “that ‘poor in spirit’ undoubtedly means unassuming, rightly satisfied with what is their due, mindful of the fact that human nature is so imperfect that whatever a man obtains is probably more than he deserves.  They cannot be the meek, for special allusion is made to the meek in this same group of specially designated persons.  Neither can it refer to people who are usually called poor-spirited persons, to wit, those who are too devoid of what is commonly designated as spirit, for these are properly classified as peace-makers, and have a similar though not identical blessing promised to them.”

“The class owes its thanks to the judge for his clear definition of the term ‘poor in spirit,’” said Mr. Jodderel, “and if he can be equally distinct upon the expression ‘kingdom of heaven’ he will put an end to a great deal of senseless blundering.”

“I know of but one definition,” said the judge, “heaven is the abode of God and the angels, and of those who are finally saved.”

“Ah, but where is it? that’s the question this class wants answered,” said Mr. Jodderel, twisting his body and craning his head forward as he awaited the answer.

“Really,” said the judge, “you must excuse me.  I don’t know where it is, and I can’t see that study as to its locality can throw any light upon the lesson.”

This opinion, delivered by an ex-judge, who had written a book on the rules of evidence, would have quieted almost any one else, and the members’ faces expressed a sense of relief as they thought that Mr. Jodderel was not one of the faint-hearted, and in his opinion faint-heartedness and quietness were one and the same thing.

“No light upon the lesson?” echoed Mr. Jodderel.  “Why, what is the Bible for, if not to inform us of our destiny?  What is this world but a place of preparation for another?  And how can we prepare ourselves unless we know what our future place and duty is to be?”

“Next!” exclaimed Deacon Bates with more than his usual energy, and Mr. Jodderel sank back into his chair and talked angrily with every feature but his mouth, and with his whole body besides.  “Mr. Whilcher has some new ideas to present, no doubt,” continued the leader, bracing himself somewhat firmly in his chair, for the Deacon naturally expected an assault from a man of Mr. Whilcher’s peculiar views.

“Poverty of spirit seems to me to be old English for modesty,” said Mr. Whilcher, “We know very little, comparatively, of the great designs of God, and about as little of the intentions of our fellow-men, so we should be very careful how we question our Maker or criticise our neighbors.  No human being would appreciate divine perfection if he saw it; no man can give his fellow men full credit for what they would do, if they were angels, and are sorry because they can’t do.  I think the passage means that only by that modesty, that self-repression, by which alone a man can accept the inevitable as decreed by God, and forbear that fault-finding which comes fully as easy as breathing, can a man be fitted for the companionship of the loving company which awaits us all in the next world”