The Measure of a Man
"The place to take the true measure of a man is not in the darkest place or in the amen corner, not the cornfield, but by his own fireside. There he lays aside his mask and you may learn whether he is an imp or an angel, cur or king, hero or humbug. I care not what the world says of him: whether it crowns him boss or pelts him with bad eggs. I care not a copper what his reputation or religion may be: if his babies dread his homecoming and his better half swallows her heart every time she has to ask him for a five-dollar bill, his is a fraud of the first water, even though he prays night and morning until he is black in the face.... But if his children rush to the front door to meet him and love's sunshine illuminates the face of his wife every time she hears his footfall, you can take it for granted that he is pure, for his home is a heaven... I can forgive much in that fellow mortal who would rather make men swear than women weep; who would rather have the gate of the whole world than the contempt of his wife; who would rather call anger to the eyes of a king than fear to the face of a child."
--H. Burke Peterson Oct. 1982 from Elbert Hubbard's Scrapbook