through his life down on the earth, and goes out
into the other life. Judging by the whole tenor of his life he will
attempt to take some of his belongings with him. Indeed so much are these
belongings a part of his very life that they seem inseparable from him.
Here he comes up to the gateway of the upper world. He is lugging along a
farm or two, some town lots, and houses, and a lot of beautifully engraved
paper, bank stock and railroad bonds and other bonds. They are absorbing
him completely as he puffs slowly along.

And as he gets up to the gateway, the gateman will say, "What's all that
stuff?" "_Stuff!_" he will say, astonished; "this is the most precious
wealth of earth, sir. I have spent my whole life, the cream of my strength
in accumulating this." "Oh, well," the reply will be, "I have no doubt
that is so. I am not disputing your word at all. But that sort of thing
does not pass current up in this land. That has to be exchanged at the
bankers' offices for the sort of coinage we use here."

The man looks a little relieved at this last remark. The other talk has
sounded strange, and given him a queer misgiving in his heart, as he
listened. But "banker" and "exchange"--that sounds familiar. The ground
feels a bit steadier. He picks up new spirit. "Where are the bankers'
offices, please?" he asks eagerly. "They are all down on the earth," comes
the quiet answer. "You must do your exchanging before you get as far up as
this. That stuff is all dead loss now. You can't take it back to the
bankers' now, and it is of no value here. Just leave it over on that dump
heap there outside the gate, and come in yourself." And the man comes in
with a strangely stripped and bare feeling.

What we get and keep for the sake of having, we lose, for we leave it
behind. What we give away freely for _Jesus'_ sake, for men's sake, we
will find by and by we have kept, for we have sent it ahead in a changed
form.

There will be a strange readjustment of values on the other side. Some
men of splendid strength have spent it in accumulating earth's wealth.
They give, even freely it seems to be, in very large amounts. Yet be it
keenly marked the sum given by these men always bears a small proportion
to what is kept.

Others there are of equally splendid strength, and fine powers, who have
been spending that strength in influencing men. Their passion seems to
have been for _men_, for men's _selves_, for men's _lives_. The great bulk
of