The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1857-05-26

No poverty is there! Millions Of good
men have left the earth poor bat never has
one entered heaven poor. Lazarus, the mo-
ment before he died, was beggar at the
gate; but in q moment after death, his e.
tate had grown SO vast, that the naughty
wording, still surviving in all his aftluence,
in comparison with him was only pennilees
pauper. o, poor believer! rejoice in pros
pect Of your grand inheritance 1t is Gin
corruptibie, undcied, and fadeth not away."
II is really immense, inestimabls, unspeaka-
BILE. Has it not bessJour endeavor to clay
up Ior yourself) treasures in heaven Pr
| Why not oftener think Of results there p
Fear not There ia 'sgood news from that
far country" Unsuccessful a. you may
have cd on earth, ysur heavenly schemes
have all prospered. The treasury Of God
oycrhows with your wealth. And it is safe,
perfectly safe. Neither "moth nor rust cor
rupts it !" nor can ''thieves" break through
to steal it. Moreover, itshallincrease-for
ever increase. As long as you live on earth,
you may add to the principal, and its inter-
ests will multiply, beyond all computation,
to oil eternity: Crnsus was rich, Solomon
WAS rich, Lucullus was rich, and the Roths-
chlds are rich-but the humb,est heir OF
God is richer far than all. 1t may be that
the stores you have already accumulated in
heaven, would buy this town, buy the dis
srct, buy our country, buy the world-and
still be comparatively untouched. Nay, shink
not this extrayagant. l would not barter
the heritage OF the most destitute OF Chris
tians for the whole globe and all its improve
ments. Lift up your heart, my poor, de-
pressed brother, lift up your heart, let it
expand, and fill and overflow with bliss. AT
the close Of your short journey through time,
you will see eternity open before you, all ra-
diant with the variety of your own boundless
and endless possessions. Be not proud, in
deed-alas, for the folly Of all pride but
be grateful, thankful, hopeful and happy
lStookton's Sermons.
CO The following touchi and felicitous
illustration of the power Of ideas was given
by Wendell Phillips the other day in public
speech at New York.
81 was told to-day story so touching in
reference to this that you must let me tell it.
this just as we'll. 1t 10 the story Of = mother,
on the green hills of Vermont, holding by
the right hand son, sixteen years old, mad
by the garden gate sunny morning, she
cnlu LdWnIut bue4 tclA Hc-iOI ucNCt
saw the ocean-that the great temptation Of
the seaman's life is drink. Promise me, be-
fore you quit your mothers hand, that you
viii never drink" And, said he (for he told
me The story, gave her the promise, and
went the broad globe over--Calcutta, the
Mediterranean, San Francisco, the Cape Of
Good Hope, the North Pole and the South
saw them all in forty years, and never
saw a glass filled withSpsrkling liquor that
my mothers form by the garden gate, on the
green hillside Of Vermont, did not rise before
me; and to-day, at sixty, my lips are inno-
cent Of the taste of liquor. .(Applauss. -
Was not that sweet evidence Of the power OF
o single word? Yet that was but half. For,
said he, yesterday there came into my count
ing room, a young man If forty, and asked
me-sDo you know me?' 'No.' sWell,
was once brought drunk into your presence
on shipboard you were q passenger; the
captain kicked me aside; you took me to
your berth and kept me until had slept OF
the intoxication, then you asked me if had
q mother; said never knew . word from
her lips; you told me Of yours at the garden
gate, and to-day am the s1Dster Of one Of
the finest packets in New York, and come
to ask you to call and see me- How far
that little candle throws its beams! Oh, God
be thanked for the almighty powe, Of a sin
gle word!