many may feel. Each of us in varying degrees learned to know and respect the individuals whose memory we honor today. With this fully in mind may it not be said that we, the members of the Senate of the United States who are assembled here today, cherish and honor the memory of our colleagues who have gone to meet their Maker. They left us singly and in the sad succession appointed by the order of nature; but having lived, acted, and counseled with us, we honor them together today. During their long careers of duty, forgetting the little that had divided them, and cherishing the great communion of service, they walked in honorable friendship the declining pathway of age. No martial music, no blare of trumpets, no great parade, summoned these men either to their outstanding service or to their graves, but they were fighters just the same for the cause they represented. Each, in his own way, was a champion of the cause he believed best for his country. We respect them for their undaunted courage, the energy and devotion with which they marched along the long rugged road of duty. We miss them, but we know that while they no longer answer the roll call in this historic Chamber, they answer that longer roll call that contains the names of heroic men who served and died that America might be and continue to be a Government of free men devoted to liberty, to justice, and to God. Solo, Beautiful Isle of Somewhere-Ferris-by Robert C. Nicholson, accompanied at the piano by William Watkins. BEAUTIFUL ISLE OF SOMEWHERE Somewhere the sun is shining, Somewhere the songbirds dwell. Hush then thy sad repining, Somewhere the day is longer, Somewhere the task is done. Somewhere the load is lifted, Close by an open gate. Somewhere the clouds are rifted, Somewhere the angels wait. (Chorus) Somewhere, somewhere, beautiful isle of somewhere. Land of the true, where we live anew, Beautiful isle of somewhere! The PRESIDENT pro tempore. The Chair recognizes the Senator from North Carolina [Mr. Hoey). Mr. HOEY. Mr. President, life is real and likewise mystical. The high estate of man's creation makes him a little lower than the angels and gives him dominion over all other created and elemental things. He is the inheritor of all the past ages. From the dusty pages of antiquity the progress of man has been illuminating the processes of life over the long centuries. Into the real life of today has been projected the mystical life of tomorrow. Immortality begins on earth. The struggle of man has been to build an enduring civilization here and to adorn it with the revealed and discovered truths of God. The search of man has been for truth, and in his quest for its attainment he has mastered much of the universe and made it subservient to his imperial will. The majestic passages in the first chapter of Genesis describing the origin of man stamp him with the image of his Creator and crown him with honor and glory, and then the stately steppings of that graphic portrayal of his possibilities accord to him unquestioned dominion over the fowls of the air, the beasts of the field, and the fish of the sea, including all things passing through the paths of the sea. Man has marvelously attained this dominion and fulfilled this prophecy. He has gone deeper down into the sea than any fish has dared to go. He has soared higher into the air than the eagle, the king of birds, has been able to ascend-and he has gone into the stratosphere to join the celestial bodies as they float out through illimitable space. Man speaks and his voice can be heard around the world, whereas the explosions of nature can be heard for only a few hundred miles, at best. The hurricane roars across the surface of the earth at 150 miles an hour, but man speeds along at 400 miles an hour and travels through space in a ship of his own creation at 800 to 1,000 miles an hour. Man measures the distance of the sun, moon, and stars, and counts and measures the circumference of the constellations in the sky. When Halley's comet skirts across our horizon at a terrific rate of speed, man calculates within a few seconds the time when that swift traveler will return after it has rambled through unexplored space along its charted course for 75 years. Man has only recently split the atom and released the force and power of the universe. But the atom is not dangerous. Only man is dangerous. But there is appointed a time for man to die. There is something majestic about death. Its very universality makes it a dreaded visitor in the homes of kings and subjects, presidents and citizens, rich and poor, white and colored, around the whole world. It levels all rank and makes a common denominator of all men. Sickness and death are not the tragedies of life; they are only the sadnesses. The age-old question propounded in the Book of Job, "If a man die, shall he live again," is affirmatively answered by the faith of man in immortality, and all nature shares that faith as it experiences a beautiful resurrection each springtime from the death of winter. Edmund Burke said that civilization was a covenant between the dead, the living, and the unborn. What do we mean by civilization? It encompasses everything. The fields and farms, the factories and shops, the business houses and homes, the skyscrapers and humble cottages, the railroads, automobiles, and airplanes, the telephones, telegraph and radios, the churches, synagogues and cathedrals, the schools, colleges, and universities, the games, sports, and recreational centers, the graveyards, cemeteries, and mausoleums-all of these and more constitute American civilization. Deep in the consciousness of our civilization is the stalwart figure of the early settler and pioneer who came to our shores seeking liberty and freedom, and who dared to visualize a land where a man could worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience, and where none could molest or make him afraid. It also embraces the daring conception of a government where all power is lodged in the aggregate assembly of free men and women and where government derives its just powers from the consent of the governed. Our honored dead have given us this civilization, and our loved colleagues belonged to that immortal company of men and women who through the years labored intelligently and painstakingly to perfect this structure of a democracy that might endure and vouchsafe to us who live today, and to the unborn of tomorrow, the blessings of liberty and freedom and the benign influences of justice and righteousness in government and among men. Civilization also encompasses the indescribably sacred picture of a mother bending over the bed of her offspring at eventide to hear it lisp the name of God in the simple prayer of childhood, "Now I lay me down to sleep." The supreme sacrifice by which men die for their country and fellow men becomes a part of our civilization. In all wars, and particularly in the recent one, heroic souls have joined the immortals of earth in selfless death that liberty might endure and that peace might be possible. Only one illustration shall suffice. When one of our oil tankers was torpedoed in the Pacific and the commanding officer and his crew escaped the flaming boat, it appeared that the lifeboats were overloaded, whereupon the gallant lieutenant said, "We must leave the lifeboats for the injured," and immediately dived overboard into the surging sea, followed by 15 of his heroic men. Only 3 of them were ever seen again. They were swallowed up by the angry waves, and they had only the ocean for a sepulchre; but they left a trail of glory that time cannot efface. At the same time a pharmacist mate administered tannic acid to the deep burns of the injured men to prevent their flesh from flecking off, and then visited another boat for the same purpose, and while swimming to a third boat became exhausted and went down, never to come up again; but there was the dew of immortality upon his brow and the radiance of heaven illuminating his watery grave. Our illustrious colleagues in whose honor we assemble today belong in the category of those who served during those days of stress and crises, and they are among the casualties of war. They died gloriously in the service of their country. Eight of our comrades have passed away since the close of the war. They participated in the debates on the momentous issues determined in this greatest world forum of thought and action. They had a share in all of the history-making legislation enacted preceding and during the war years. They gave unstintingly of their time and efforts in behalf of our victory at arms and in furtherance of the cause of peace. We pause today to pay homage to their memories. Their colleagues who survive and still serve here will pay just tribute by the written word to them individually and thus preserve for posterity a record of their illustrious service and achievements. The youngest died in his 65th year and the oldest had passed his 88th milepost. Reasonably long life was vouchsafed to each of them ere the "silver cord was loosed or the golden bowl broken." In saluting their memory, I feel that they were able to join Byron in telling Death, that omnipotent tyrant, to his everlasting face that he possessed no sting, and in challenging the grave, his sleepless handmaiden to dare proclaim a victory. May God rest their souls. The high obligation of this hour remains with us who still live and serve here to preserve the heritage of our civilization for the benefit of those now living and for the unborn |