, you will always see the face you loved and won. And a woman
who really loves a man, does not see that he grows older; he is not
decrepit; he does not tremble; he is not old; she always sees the same
gallant gentleman who won her hand and heart. I like to think of it in
that way. I like to think of all passions; love is eternal, and, as
Shakespeare says, "Although Time, with his sickle, can rob ruby lips
and sparkling eyes, let him reach as far as he can, he cannot quite
touch love; that reaches even to the end of the tomb." And to love in
that way, and then go down the hill of life together, and as you go
down hear, perhaps, the laughter of grandchildren--the birds of joy and
love sing once more in the leafless branches of age. I believe in the
fireside. I believe in the democracy of home. I believe in the
republicanism of the family. I believe in liberty and equality with
those we love.

If women have been slaves, what shall I say of children; of the little
children in the alleys and sub-cellars; the little children who turn
pale when they hear their father's footsteps; little children who run
away when they only hear their names called by the lips of another;
little children--the children of poverty, the children of crime, the
children of brutality wherever you are--flotsam and jetsam upon the
wild, mad sea of life, my heart goes out to you, one and all. I tell
you the children have the same rights that we have, and we ought to
treat them as though they were human beings; and they should be reared
by love, by kindness, by tenderness, and not by brutality. That is my
idea of children. When your little child tells a lie, don't rush at
him as though the world were about to go into bankruptcy. Be honest
with him. A tyrant father will have liars for children; do you know
that? A lie is born of tyranny upon the one hand and weakness upon the
other, and when you rush at a poor little boy with a club in your hand,
of course he lies. I thank Mother Nature that she has put ingenuity
enough in the breast of a child, when attacked by a brutal parent, to
throw up a little breastwork in the shape of a lie. When one of your
children tells a lie, be honest with him; tell him you have told
hundreds of them yourself. Tell him it is not the best way; you have
tried it. Tell him, as the man did in Maine when his boy left home:
"John, honesty is the best policy; I have tried both." Just be honest
with him. Imagine now; y