sky was aflame with scarlet and crimson from the setting sun. But, like the note of downfall in Wagner's opera, below the skyline there came from little globes the pallid discord of electric lights, and I thought to myself the Gotterdammerung will end, and from those globes clustered like evil eggs will come the new masters of the sky. It is like the time in which we live. But, then, I remembered the faith that I partly have expressed, faith in a universe not measured by our fears, a universe that has thought, and more than thought, inside of it, and as I gazed, after the sunset, and above the electric lights, there shone the stars.

And something else that great jurist said I want to repeat to you. It was this:

I think it not improbable that man, like the grub that prepares a chamber for the winged thing it has never seen but is to bethat man may have cosmic destinies that he does not understand. And so beyond the vision of battling races and an impoverished earth I catch a dreaming glimpse of peace.

Who is to say that out of the depth of his wisdom, gained from his lifelong study of profound truths, Oliver Wendell Holmes may not have been right-that man may have cosmic destinies he does not understand. And so beyond the vision of battling races and an impoverished earth we may catch a dreaming glimpse of peace.

It is this beautiful star of human hope, shining above the pallid glare of earth's electric lights, in the blue sky of a universe in which there is thought, and more than thought, that carries us through the storms and the stresses and the sorrows and the sicknesses, and enables us to bear the thought of the parting at death.

It seems to be, Mr. Speaker, the common fate of kings and beggars, of just and unjust, of saint and sinner, that each of us shall sometime embark upon that journey from earth to the far yonder shores of an unknown eternity.

If we believe that death is the end of those personalities whom we have known and loved as our colleagues, then, indeed, is death a truly dreadful event. If, however, we are to believe that those who have preceded us on that mystical journey, clinging to the hand of the Saviour, consciously

trusting in the infinite love of the Creator, are going on to other tasks-higher tasks, mayhap-then death is not the end, but the beginning of life.

So, then, as our hearts today are sad, as our thoughts are somber, as we find in our breasts an aching longing for the touch of hands that have vanished and the sound of voices now stilled, it is rather because of our own loneliness that we grieve, the loss of championship and association that we miss, than for any fear or any belief that our departed and beloved colleagues have been blotted out, or condemned to some oblivion.

Why, Mr. Speaker, what would be the purpose of life, what would be the use of this human struggle, what would be the use of our efforts, what purpose would we serve by our tears or our smiles, if the grave were the end of it all? Ah, no, life is eternal. We must progress onward and upward until we become more aware of that image and likeness in which we are created.

And, so, Mr. Speaker, let us be firm in the hope; let us find comfort in the thought, that our dear departed colleagues have moved further along toward their cosmic destinies which they may not understand, and, as Holmes so beautifully said, beyond the vision of battling races and an impoverished earth, that they have realized that peace of which we here may catch but a dreaming glimpse.

Mr. Thomas L. Thomas sang "The Old Rugged Cross," by Bennard.

Mr. Winfred Kemp, principal musician, United States Marine Band Orchestra, sounded taps.

The Chaplain, Rev. James Shera Montgomery, D. D., pronounced the benediction:

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace, both now and evermore. Amen.

on

Thomas Sanders McMillan

Memorial Addresses

Remarks by Representative Fulmer

Of South Carolina

Mr. FULMER. Mr. Speaker, in the passing of my colleague, the Honorable THOMAS S. MCMILLAN, the State of South Carolina has lost one of its most beloved citizens and Congress one of its most valuable Members.

"Tommie," as he was affectionately called by his numerous friends and colleagues, possessed that type of character and friendly personality which endeared him not only to his friends, but to all those with whom he came in contact.

This was wonderfully demonstrated to me on one occasion when I had the privilege and pleasure of visiting his home city, Charleston, S. C., on an occasion when President Roosevelt visited this old, historic city.

On a parade through the streets of the city and navy yard I had the privilege of riding in the car with my colleague. The streets were lined with his friends and constituents, and Tommie, with his hat in his hand, was continuously saluting them with that gracious, friendly smile and with that friendly greeting which he used so often on the floor of the House, "Hey, Buddy!" On the other hand, there was the joyous shouting on the part of my colleague's friends and constituents with that well-known and commonly used greeting, "Hey, Tommie!"

Prior to the convening of the extra session, Tommie had made a visit to Europe. I remember so plainly, and always shall, when we met in extra session, he came over and spoke to me and our colleague the gentleman from South Carolina, Butler Hare. With that gracious, friendly smile, so char