The Measurement of Manhood.
It is painful to think how much the grave strains out, of that which men do and earn in this life. It is the work of men’s hands that they are proud of, mostly. They have organized and built—and that is well; but no man shall take his house with him out of this world. They have supplied their dwellings with things comfortable to every sense—and there is no harm in that; but no man shall take book, or picture, or furniture with him when he dies. They have heaped up treasures around them—and in the economy of God that is a method of civilization; but none of those things shall go through that portal; no one shall take with him houses, or lands, or raiment, or money, or friends, or honors. You shall take through the shadowy door nothing but that which is spiritual; and how much of that have you to take through? If you were to efface from many men that which makes them great in influence in the day in which they live; if you were to take from them all which depends purely upon physical qualities, and all that relates to the malign passion; if you were to send them out of life with no capital except truth, and honesty, and equity, and generosity, and affection, they would be paupers. For the grave lets nothing through but that which is ineffable—that which is of a high moral texture. And only he can measure himself aright who knows how much of himself he can carry through and beyond. When a man comes to die, then all that there is in him of manhood goes with him, and all the rest is baggage. The things which he has been thinking of, and for which he has been giving the time of life, and almost his life itself, are often no more than the chaff of wheat, after the wheat is ripe and gone.