|Birth: ||Feb. 7, 1811|
Saint George's Parish, Bermuda
|Death: ||Feb. 8, 1892|
Memorial as published in the Times Picayune, Friday, February 19, 1892, Page 3.
An Eloquent Tribute to a Good Man.
In his sermon on Sunday last, Rev. H. H. Waters of St. Paul's church spoke as follows of one who has but recently passed away:
Many of us during the past week have thought much of death. Since we last met together there has passed away fro our midst one of the oldest and most venerated members of our church. It was only last Sunday that he celebrated his eighty-first birthday, and the following morning, apparently without warning, he became unconscious, and without pain or suffering in a few hours passed quietly away. It was a beautiful ending to a beautiful life. God had been gracious to him in many ways. Only last summer he celebrated his golden wedding - the jubilee of a long and happy married life - and with his devoted wife and his children, and his children's children gathered around him, by a religious service, he blessed God for His mercies on the long past and prayed for his continued watchfulness and care. He occupied a position in this community which was indeed an enviable one. His business talent and capacity placed him in the front rank of those engaged in the particular department of commercial enterprise which he had chosen, while his high standard of honor and integrity commanded the respect and reverence of all those with whom he had to do; and I am told that many a dispute between laborers and employers was, by mutual consent, left to his decision, each party feeling that he would do what was just and right. "Do you know we called Mr. Hayward?" said a prominent man, recently engaged in the same business; "we call him 'the king.'" Such was the tribute of a man of the world to the majesty and dignity and greatness of his character, and it is a worthy tribute. He was a king among men. He was kingly in all his instincts; and in his long career, bringing him into contact with multitudes of men of every phase of life. I do not believe a single one can be found who would say that he had ever known him to be suspected even of a mean or dishonorable notion. He adorned all the relationships of life. He was a faithful, loving husband, a kind, affectionate father, and a loyal and sympathetic friend; considerate to the wants of those who stood in need; always ready to respond to the calls which were made upon him with such frequency, and ever charitable to the faults of others. As a member of our church he was faithful in the discharge of his religious duties. He was a regular attendant at our public services, and his familiar form, both in his pew and kneeling at the Lord's table, will long linger in our memories. He had been a long time member of our vestry, and always took a warm interest in all that concerned the parish. He often spoke to me of the new church, and we had hoped so much that he might have been spared to worship within its walls. But God's ways are not our ways, his thoughts are not our thoughts, and, like the aged Jacob, this grand old patriarch has been "gathered to his fathers." Truly he has "come to his grave in a full age, like a shock of corn cometh in his season." Such an old age as his, so bright, so full of interest in everything about him, so full of faith and hope, is one of the grandest sights on earth. Henry Ward Beacher, speaking of old age, says: "The sun may be beautiful at midday, when the light is white and intense and the heat pervades all things; but after all, for beauty, give me the sun when it has traveled through the day, and has fallen so low that it begins to look aslant through the trees, and casting shadows, checkering the earth, and filling the heavens, and staining the clouds, and surrounding itself with magnificent glory. Then the sun is most beautiful. And the most beautiful thing that lives on earth is not the child in the cradle, sweet as it is. It is not ample enough. It has not had history enough. It is all prophecy. Let me see one who has wrought through life. Let me see a great nature that has gone through sorrows, through fire, through the flood, through the thunder of battle, ripening, sweetening, enlarging, and growing finer and finer, and gentler and gentler, that fineness and gentleness being the result of great strength and great knowledge accumulated through a long life - let me see such no one stand at the end of life, as the sun stands on a summer afternoon just before it goes down. There is nothing on earth so beautiful as a rich, ripe, large, glowing and glorious Christian old age."
Such was the old age of him of whom I speak. May his example be an inspiration to us. May we try to lead better lives, because we have had him in our midst so long; to be more unselfish, more generous, more charitable, more faithful, that when "the time of our departure" draws nigh we may have the same sweet, childlike trust which was so noticeable in him, and thus falling asleep in Jesus may "awake after his likeness and be satisfied"
Jane Bassett Hayward (1794 - 1881)
Mary Frances Burton Hayward (1823 - 1898)*
Thalia Hayward (1842 - 1853)*
Mary Sawyer Hayward Stewart (1846 - 1927)*
Robert Bassett Hayward (1848 - 1855)*
James Daniel Hayward (1850 - 1929)*
Lucius Hamilton Hayward (1854 - 1915)*
Jane Bassett Hayward (1856 - 1864)*
Harry Hayward (1859 - 1895)*
Plot: Section 22, Corner of Metairie Avenue and Avenue N
GPS (lat/lon): 29.98098, -90.11888
Created by: brmck
Record added: Jan 22, 2014
Find A Grave Memorial# 123964262