In his early years Mr. GUYER was an educator, and in this field he was most successful. While following the teaching profession he took up the study of law and was admitted to the bar in Kansas City, Kans., in 1902. His sterling character and his firm stand on the right side of all moral issues won him the respect and confidence of his fellow citizens. This respect and confidence was displayed by the people of his home town in 1909 and again in 1910, when he was elected mayor of Kansas City, the largest city in Kansas.

Today I am glad I was privileged to enjoy his close friendship and confidence. This I cherish as a bright spot during my years of service in the House.

In his passing, not only the Second Congressional District of the State of Kansas, but the Congress and the country suffered a real loss.

Mr. LAMBERTSON. Mr. Speaker, I yield now to the gentleman from Kansas [Mr. Winter].

Mr. WINTER. Mr. Speaker, it is difficult indeed for me to express my feelings here today and pay adequate tribute to the dearest friend that I had in the Congress of the United States, SAM GUYER. IN 1938, when I was elected to Congress, in November, I did not know much about what I had been elected to. I had never had any legislative experience. A few mornings after the election was over I received a telephone call. On the other end of the line the voice said "This is U. S. GUYER speaking from Kansas City. I am going down into the south part of my district tomorrow, and I would like to have you come and meet me. I had never had the privilege of meeting you." I knew Judge GUYER only by reputation as one of the leading citizens of Kansas and of the Nation. So I drove to his little town and listened to Judge GUYER make the first speech I ever heard him make. After he had finished he took me in his automobile and we drove out to the edge of the town. He parked the car and there explained to me some of the things that I would be

faced with when I came to Washington, and offered me his help. He told me about the necessity of filing on an office, which I knew nothing about, and he told me about how to get supplies, and said that I should arrange for a place to live in Washington-that I probably would have trouble getting a good place to live. He told me that he was returning to Washington within a few days and would be glad to look after those details for me. When I arrived in Washington Judge GUYER had filed on an office for me and arranged for living quarters for me at the same hotel where he and Mrs. Guyer resided.

My acquaintance with Judge GUYER grew into a beautiful friendship, and his death to me is a great loss and the House of Representatives, no matter how long I serve, will never be the same. There never was an evening that I did not see Judge GUYER at the hotel. We sat and discussed many problems of interest to both of us and he gave me much timely advice. On several occasions when I was ill it was Judge GUYER Who would come to my room and bring me the little things that make a person feel that someone cares about how you are progressing. Today words fail me to say anything about Judge GUYER, except that to me he was just like a father. He was a Christian gentleman-a truly Christian gentleman. He exemplified in his daily life those Christian virtues. We all know that. The lovable character that he possessed and his way of meeting his friends has endeared him to the hearts of every Member of this House.

I can say to Mrs. Guyer that she need have no fear about the voyage upon which her beloved husband has embarked. As I sat with him less than 3 weeks ago he told me that he knew the end might be near, but that he was prepared to meet it. He said to me then, "Young man, get yourself prepared to enter that which we call eternity and you will not worry about what the future will bring for you."

To my good friend, Judge GUYER, I can only say bon voyage.

Mr. LAMBERTSON. Mr. Speaker, I yield to the gentleman from Texas, Judge Sumners, the distinguished chairman of the Committee on the Judiciary.

Mr. SUMNERS of Texas. Mr. Speaker, as the House knows, Mr. GUYER was for a long time the ranking Republican on the Committee on the Judiciary of the House of Representatives. The relationship among the members of that committee is very close. We are friends; we develop a spirit of mutual respect for each other's views. There is practically no partisanship in that committee. I feel as close to the members on the Republican side as I do the members on the Democratic side. As chairman I discuss matters of public interest with them just as freely and receive the same sort of cooperation. This has been possible in no small degree because of the fine Americanism of our distinguished Member, whose recent going away has brought sadness to us all; a deep sense of individual, personal loss. Judge GUYER was a modest man. He had a correct conception of the size of man, the relative littleness of man in the great economy. Mr. GUYER had great respect for public opinion, but he was not one of those people in political life who was dependent for happiness upon popular applause and upon place and position for himself, but he measured success by the standard of usefulness in his day and generation. He never posed or pretended. He realized that we all are creatures here on this earth but for a moment; not so long as a second, measured by the sweep of the ages. Our comrade walked into the deepened shadows unashamed and unafraid. He could look into the eyes of his constituents and know that he had never betrayed them for their votes; never betrayed his country for his job. He seemed to realize that if when he walked in the silent places, he could have the companionship of a clear conscience, a realization that he had been true to his people, to his duty, to his country, that whether people stuck out their tongue at him or clapped little hands in

applause made very little difference after all. He had a correct notion of the relative value of things.

We are going to miss Judge GUYER very much in our committee. Most of us are well acquainted with his wife; have great respect for her. Our deepest sympathy goes out to her. Judge GUYER delivered here a few years ago on Memorial Day an address which is one of the masterpieces of the English language. Permission having been granted, I present it to be printed as something which in substance I would say on this occasion if I could say it as well: [Memorial exercises in the House of Representatives-Speech of Hon. U. S. GUYER in the House of Representatives, delivered April 21, 1936]

Mr. GUYER. Mr. Speaker:

"Leaves have their time to fall,

And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath

And stars to set, but all

Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death."

Veneration for the sepulcher and reverence for the dead belong to the most ancient instincts of the human race. To respect and to honor the memory and dust of our ancestors is common alike to the savage and the civilized. This inclination to consecrate the grave and to enshrine the memory of our departed ancestors may have been and doubtless was the beginning of the worship of Deity for in that black night of prehistoric darkness the human soul reached out toward the only symbol of Deity it possessed-its earthly parentage.

Thus today, both in harmony with the precedents of the House and the customs of mankind, we meet to honor those who have gone to that "undiscovered country" and who for a brief time were associated with us in this forum fashioned by our fathers in the Constitution. This day the discord of party passion divides us not. Individual interests and personal ambitions are forgotten. The battle for supremacy and the struggle for precedence sleep for the moment like those we mourn. All that is sordid, all that is ignoble in this game of politics retreats in silence from the presence of death.

There are no minority views in this committee's report. It is accepted by unanimous consent without debate. That report constitutes the epitaph of the seven strong men who are the objects of this memorial. Their work in this forum is finished. Their

record is completed. Their roll calls have all been answered. Their speeches have all been uttered. Their offices have been vacated by the decree of fate. Soon others will occupy their places and the current of life will resume its accustomed course.

It is one of the inexplicable mysteries of life in which one surrenders his peace of mind, his tranquillity of soul and life under his own vine and fig tree for a disappointing, disillusioning ignis fatuus in the morass of public life. Yet, arduous as the duties are, we are loathe to leave its unrivaled associations, and every Member may refer with pride to his membership in this forum of the people. The duties and growing exactions upon its Members increasingly draw upon their powers of endurance and resistance which constantly increases their mortality. I have been a Member of this House for 10 years under five Speakers, three of whom have gone to that undiscovered land where there is always a quorum present.

In my humble opinion, the presiding officer of this House holds in his credentials of election as Speaker the supreme testimonial of exalted character, unimpeachable integrity, and superlative ability. He is no accident. He must prove his fitness for this great office through a long series of years in the fierce furnace of political debate, the fisticuff of parliamentary strategy and maneuver, and by his ability to manage strong and intelligent men under the most trying and difficult circumstances. That, in my opinion, was what led the late Nicholas Longworth to twice declare upon this floor, "I would rather occupy that chair than any other office in the world.” While in the roster of public offices a Member of this House is not the most exalted, membership in the House holds the opportunity for the highest type of public service. The principal difference between the higher and lower offices is that the higher the more exacting and the more disappointing and disillusioning. Men speak of the Presidency as the greatest office in the world, and we do not dispute that estimate. But what a tragic and disappointing illusion.

With more or less familiarity I have known the last seven Presidents; knew each before his elevation to the high office, met each while serving his term, saw all of them after the expiration of their terms, except one, who escaped in the embrace of death, and every one of them withered under the devastating experience like the grass withered under the furnace breath of the drought of 1934. The Presidency saps the life like a vampire and like a vampire mocks.

I saw Woodrow Wilson stumble down into the valley and the shadow amid the wreck of his shattered dream of peace, disap