to you forever when you do your level best.

Some people tell me, "Your doctrine about loving and wives all that is splendid for the rich, but it won't do for the poor." I tell you tonight their is on the average more love in the homes of the poor than in the palaces of the rich; and the meanest hut with love in it is fit for the gods, and a palace without love is a den only for wild beasts. That's my doctrine! You can't be so poor but that you can help somebody.

Good nature is the cheapest commodity in the world, and love is the only thing that will pay ten per cent. to borrower and lender both. Don't tell me that you have got to be rich! We have all a false standard of greatness in the United States. We think here that a man to be great must be notorious; he must be extremely wealthy or his name must be between the lips of rumor. It is all nonsense!

It is not necessary to be rich to be great, or to be powerful to be happy; and the happy man is the successful man. Happiness is the legal tender of the soul. Joy is wealth.

Ingersoll's Beautiful Thoughts About Children. -A good way to make children tell the truth is to tell it yourself. Keep your word with your child the same as you would with your banker.

-I intend to live that when I die my children can come to my grave and truthfully say: "He who sleeps

here never gave us one moment of pain."

-If you tell a child you will do anything, either do it or give the child the reason why. Truth is born of confidence. It comes from the lips of love and liberty.

-We have been saved by that splendid thing called independence, and I want to see more of it, day after day, and I want to see children raised so they will have it. That is my doctrine.

-Make your home happy. Be honest with the children; divide fairly with them in everything. Give them a little liberty, and you cannot drive them out of the house. They will want to stay there. Make home pleasant.

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-Let children have some daylight at home if you want to keep them there, and don't commence at the "Don't!" cradle and yell, "Dont!" 'Stop!" That is nearly all that is said to a young one from the cradle until he is twenty-one years old.

-Another thing: let the children eat what they want to. Let them commence at whichever end of the dinner they desire. That is my doctrine.

they want much better than you do. deal smarter than you ever were.

They know what
Nature is a great

-Every little while some door is thrown open in some orphan asylum, and there we see the bleeding back of a child whipped beneath the roof that was raised by love. It is infamous, and the man that can't raise a child without the whip ought not to have a child.

-Don't plant your children in long, straight rows, like posts, Let them have light and air, and let them grow beautiful as palms. When I was a little boy, children went to bed when they were not sleepy, and always got up when they were. I would like to see that changed, but they say we are too poor, some of us, to do it. Well, all right. It is as easy to wake a child with a kiss as with a blow; with kindness as with a

curse.

-I tell you there is something splendid in the man + will not always mind. Why, if we had done as the

things told us five hundred years ago, we would all have been slaves. If we had done as the priests told us, we would all have been idiots. If we had done as the doctors told us, we would all have been dead. We have been saved by disobedience. We have been saved by disobedience. We have been saved by that splendid thing called independence, and I want to see more of it, day after day, and I want to see children raised so they will have it. That is my doctrine. Give the children a

chance.

-Be perfectly honor bright with your children, and they will be your friends when you are old. Don't insist upon their pursuing some calling they have no sort of faculty for. Don't make that poor girl play ten years upon a piano when she has no ear for music, and when she has practiced until she can play "Bonaparte crossing the Alps," you can't tell after she has played it whether Bonaparte ever got across or not. Men are oaks, women are vines, children are flowers, and if there is any Heaven in this world, it is in the family. It is where the wife loves the husband, and the husband loves the wife, and where the dimpled arms of children are about the necks of both.

-If there is one of you here that ever expects to whip your child again, let me ask you something. Have your photograph taken at the time and let it show your face red with vulgar anger, and the face of the little one with eyes swimming in tears, and the little chin dimpled with fear, looking like a piece of water struck by a sudden cold wind. If that little child should die, I cannot think of a sweeter way to spend an Autumn afternoon than to take that photograph and go to the cemetery, when the

maples are clad in tender gold, and when the little scarlet runners are coming, like poems of regret, from the sad heart of the earth; and sit down upon that mound, and look upon that photograph, and think of the flesh, now dust, that you beat. Just think of it. I could not bear to die in the arms of a child that I had whipped. I could not bear to feel upon my lips, when they were withered beneath the touch of death, the kiss of one that I had struck.

—I said, and I say again, no day can be so sacred but that the laugh of a child will make the holiest day more sacred still. Strike with hand of fire, oh, weird musician, thy harp, strung with Appollo's golden hair; fil the vast cathredral aisles with symphonies sweet and dim, deft toucher of the organ keys; blow, blugler, blow, until thy silver notes do touch the skies, with moonlit waves, and charm the lovers wandering on the vine-clad hills; but know, your sweetest strains are discords all, compared with childhood's happy laugh, the laugh that fills the eyes with light and every heart with joy; oh, rippling river of life, thou art the blessed boundary line between the beasts and man, and every wayward wave of thine doth drown some fiend of care; oh, laughter, divine daughter of joy, make dimples enough in the cheeks of the world to catch and hold and glorify all the tears of grief.

I like to hear children at the table telling what big things they have seen during the day; I like to hear their merry voices mingling with the clatter of knives and forks. I had rather hear that than any opera that was ever put upon the stage. I hate this idea of authority. I hate dignity. I never saw a dignified man that