Mr.
10 Conservative.
his magnificent physique ; but his brain
fibre was the product of long years of
severest mental discipline. It was his
custom from youug manhood to grasp
present day problems ; to weigh them ,
ponder them , master them. These
problems have grown more subtle , more
difficult of mastery , and in trying to
keep himself abreast of his ago Mr.
Hayward's brain was kept at its utmost
tension. Ho was a student , a hard
worker. He never dawdled. With
Lord Derby he could say : "Whether I
be happy or unhappy is not my chief
concern ; what most concerns mo is to
find my work in life , to recognize it and
to do it. " He dignified toil. His life
was an apotheosis of the plodder.
But come closer to this man and learn
the value of honesty.
I know the opinion prevails in some
circles that if a man would be successful
in business or in politics he must not
have too nice notions of right and
wrong ; that he must play fast and loose
with morals , juggle with conscience ,
make compromise with sin. In some
circles it is the thing to sneer at Puritan
ism and laud the "smart" man whose
shrewdness laughs at the decalogue.
How our frifind's life refutes such
teachings ? What was it one year ago
in the brilliant campaign that reduced
so greatly the large majority of the two
years previous and almost made our
friend the chief executive of this state ?
What was it a little later that elected
Monroe Leland Hayward to the senate
of the United States ? This one thing ,
so conceded by all , Mr. Hayward's
downright honesty. He had lived an
upright life. "Ho locked his lips too
tight to tell a lie. Ho washed his hands
too clean to take a bribe. " Ho had a
clean record. There was nothing he
needed to conceal.
And more than once God has taught
this nation this self-same lesson aye ,
written it largo so that the wayfaring
man may see it. Look back there some
forty years ago. Our country is in
turmoil , her very existence threatened.
Envy , jealousy , hatred , party greed ,
sectional bitterness , and over it nil the
black , ominous cloud of coining war
across which the lightnings began to
gleam in dread portent. Is democracy
doomed ? Can the Union be preserved ?
Has God abdicated His throne ? Is there
anywhere a hand that can guide in
safety over these swirling waters our
ship of state ? And now God stretches
out His hand to write. A party then
hardly known lays hold upon one whose
fame but yesterday was limited to his
own state and makes him its standard
bearer. And now they ring out their
rallying cry , at once a protest and a
challenge , "Honest Old Abe , " and on a
wave of popular enthusiasm Abraham
Lincoln is lifted to the presidential chair
because the conviction had fastened
itself upon the popular heart that hero
was a man , raised up from among the
I
common people , who could be implicitly
trusted.
"A good name is rather to bo chosen
than great riches , " words that God
seems to have chiseled in the noble face
of our friend , now lying in repose before
us. How many public men during the
past few years have fallen into obscurity
because of their connection with some
disreputable transaction. How many
men of wealth , of great intellectual
power , of social standing never may
hold any public office because their names
bear the taint of dishonorable denliug.
The feeling has taken root and is grow
ing in the heart of the nation , in spite
of wickedness in high places , that men
of doubtful character shall not represent
UB before the nations of the earth , that
to clean hands and pure hearts shall bo
committed our great public trusts.
Already , other things being equal , the
man of blameless life wins the prize
that noble ambition covets. The man
today who would hold high office in our
nation would do well to meditate upon
Jethro's advice to Moses : "Provide out
of all the people able men , such as fear
God , men of truth , hating covetousness
and place such to be rulers over you. "
But lot us draw still closer to this man
and learn the value of yenuineness.
Our friend was honest in action not
simply because "honesty is the best
policy. " His outward life but con
formed itself to an inner principle. He
could express himself in no other way.
True character has no need of cloaking
itself with pretence. Inclination and
duty yoke themselves together. Moral
integrity characterized Mr. Hayward's
conduct because his character was
transparently genuine. How he hated
shams ! How ho scorned the hypocrite !
How powerless svere friend or foe to
whip him into any line of action I How
he fretted against restraint ! And how
impolitic he ofttimes was in speech
judged by selfish standards !
He was a man of strong convictions.
He saw clearly , he believed firmly , he
fought consistently and as the brave
fight. He never could have been a
leader in guerilla warfare. In ambush
or in trench he was not at hid best. But
iu an open field where carnal weapons
or opposing principles clashed there at
the forefront would you find him , the
bravest of the brave. You might differ
with him widely on matters of vital
moment ; but he always compels your
reluctant confession : "He himself be
lieves what he professes. "
He was a born orator. Thought came
to him , run in the oratorical mold. He
could best marshal in ordered ranks
every faculty of his being when on his
feet and before an expectant audience.
And never was he grander than when
in the glow of a public address , under
the inspiration of a cause which his
heart had espoused , he unmasked and
scourged some traitor to that cause.
How his eyes flashed ! How his words
stung ! Infamy seemed branded on the
craven's brow. No wonder the trickster
hated him and the "ring" feared him.
It was this quality in him that made
him such a staunch friend , and that won
for him such warm love. Years ago ho
became almost passionately attached to
the soldier of the republic , and to the
day of his death any man was dear to
him who wore the G. A. R. button upon
his breast.
Recall that scene in our legislative
hall last winter. The long struggle is
over ; the last ballot is announced and
Mr. Hay ward is called to the platform
for a speech. Briefly , tactfully ho re
calls the struggle just ended , forecasts
with a prophet's ken the great struggles
to come , and then turns , with a voice
that chokes , to thank the men who had
so loyally supported him , the "Old
Guard , " as he significantly calls them ,
promising to do for them anything that
may honorably be done by their senator.
It was the heart of the man who then
spoke , as tender a heart as ever beat in
a woman's breast. I am not surprised
that strong men stood there with tears
running down their faces as they wit
nessed the scene.
And , withal , our friend was an im-
selftsli man.
There are those who , like the sun
glass , catch the rays of fortune and
force their warmth upon a selfish altar
beneath. There are others who receive
these same rays and like the prism send
out their beauty upon others. Mr. Hayward -
ward was of the latter class. He could
not shut himself up to narrow , selfish
interests. His sympathies were broad.
He was public spirited. He gave of
himself and of his means to those who
made appeal to him. The poor have lost
in him a friend ; the city one of its most
liberal citizens.
For years I have gone in and out of
this home where we today are gathered
because of a friend's privilege freely
accorded. I shall not abuse that privi
lege by lifting the veil love throws over
the place where its chief treasures are
gathered. Enough for me to say that a
most sweet and gracious presence has
abided here , and that in many respects
this has been an ideal home. A tender
husband , an indulgent father , a loyal
friend , an enterprising citizen , a clean
politician , a true patriot has lived his
almost three score years among us and
today is not , for God has taken
him. Yes , a true patriot. One
day , when a great crisis was upon
our commonwealth , and Mr. Hayward
had done his very best to ave.rt from us
what seemed to him a pending ruin ,
walking the floor , as his custom was
when deeply wrought upon , he turned
to a loved one and said , wilh tears in
his eyes : "I think I know a little of
what John Kuox felt when ho went
alone before God and cried 'O God , give
me Scotland or I die ! ' for , from my
heart I can say , ' 0 God ! give me No-
