SENATOR BRISCOE.
MR. PRESIDENT--We most cheerfully indorse every word eulogistic of the his life, character sand greatness of our deceased Governor. We can add but little indeed to what has already been so well and truthfully said by those who knew him best. Governor Williams needs no eulogy at our hands. Great, good, pure, honest men rarely die. Never before have the people of the State had greater cause to mourn the departure of one of her distinguished citizens. Governor James P. Williams is no more. His spirit has taken its flight to the better land. Had he lived until the 10th of the present month he would have fulfilled the tenure of his office. That he fully possessed all the qualifications necessary to adorn the high and exalted position of Chief Executive of our great Commonwealth none should question. His every official act will bear the strictest and most searching investigation, and history will place his administration of the affairs of our State upon its brightest page. He was the people's public servant in every sense of, the word. His entire time was given and occupied in the interest and welfare of his fellow-citizens. The great trust confided to him was never abused at any time, by either act or deed. He may have had his faults--and who are without them?--but his were fewer, perhaps, than many. He may have erred in the discharge of some official act or duty; if he did, it was on the side of mercy. His great, good, honest heart beat in full sympathy with those in affliction. He could not turn a deaf ear to those in distress. He could not resist the appeals of those whose hearts were bowed down in sorrow. His honesty of purpose was not suspected. Truly he was an honest man--the noblest work of God. He was one of the people, and through occupying the high position he did, he never forgot the masses. No man will be more greatly missed from our midst than the good old Governor. His many noble acts of kindness and charity will live long after his death. A grateful and confiding people will ever hold his memory in sweet remembrance. We had the pleasure of being with him on the night of October 30, last, to witness the dedication of the new dining hall at the House of Refuge. We heard him speak to the boys of the Home. His language was that of kindness, filled with good fatherly advice. His great heart was enlisted in the interest and welfare of the boys; was seen and felt by the large audience assembled. Indeed, he seldom spoke without saying something. His remarks on this occasion were beautiful and impressive. It may have been sowing seed on rough and barren soil--to germinate, however, in much good and usefulness hereafter. His words were listened to with, marked attention by all. We shall never wish to forget the occasion. We sincerely hope his many virtues and his great goodness of character will not only be emulated by the boys of the Home, but by us all. I do not care to take up too much time of the Senate, for I do not doubt that each of my brother Senators is as anxious as myself to speak on this subject, yet I can not refrain from adding a few words more to the eulogies already pronounced upon our deceased Governor.
Many of us--all of us holding over from two years since--knew Governor Williams well, knew the true-hearted honesty which now even his political enemies accord him, knew the native sagacity and steady talent which were hidden under his plain exterior. Many of us, also, have realized the conflict which his stern sense of duty had with the benevolence of his nature, and many of us have pitied the kind-hearted old man, placed in a position where life or death was apparently in his power. It has been said that Governor Williams exercised the pardoning power too frequently, but facts, stern facts, tell us that both Baker and Morton were more lenient, and that in their cases the kindly advice to the pardoned criminal was lacking, and that the temperance pardon pledge, which Governor Williams never failed to administer, was original with himself, which last I have not the least doubt was a great annoyance to the criminal, though it redounds to the honor of the Governor.
I have also heard it said that Governor Williams was narrow in his views, and that; he was not a traveled man. The latter charge I refute by simply saying that for his constituents he had traveled enough. For sixteen long and dreary years, biennially, he traveled from his country home to the Capital of the State, and worked steadily and faithfully and honestly for their interest in the Legislature. For two years he traveled from his District to Washington City, where he faithfully and conscientiously represented his people in the Congress of the United States, and there came a time when he traveled from County to County, all through Indiana, and told the people his views, and the views of his party, truthfully and courageously, and when the time came to vote, the people believed in him, and Blue Jeans and Democracy triumphed over aristocracy and Republicanism. As to the second page: 97[View Page 97] charge, I confess he was narrow, for he preferred Indiana to the whole world; the Democratic platform, pure and undefiled, to all the political heresies and schisms of the Universe. He was of the people, and one of them. He sympathized with them and loved them. Because a man was a workingman he thought no worse of him, but better. He had no kid gloves to be soiled by contact with the honest hand labor. A workingman's life was as dear to him as his own, and a better proof of this can not be given than the course he pursued in the great railroad strike which occurred during the second year of his Administration. It was labor against capital. In other States there was loss of property and life, and Governor Williams was advised by some of those around him, counseled by the newspapers; advised by his political opponents, to put the strike down, to shoot the insurgents in cold blood. But, Senators, happily for us, and the proud record of our State, he was too narrowminded for this, and without loss of life, and with trifling loss of property, the strike was settled in perhaps a way that a war Governor would call an ignominiously peaceful manner. But now to him, whether ignominious or war-like, it matters little. He is sleeping the long, silent sleep which sooner or later will fall upon all of us, and the last and best we can say is, "Peace to his ashes."
