Djccgmber 27, 1906. 



The Weekly Rorists' Review. 



409 



his liead, and breathes the fragrance of 

 the flowers. 



The craft elevates, refines and enobles 

 the craftsman in this your chosen field. 

 It cannot be otherwise. Let me not be 

 misunderstood. I am speaking of the real 

 craftsman, the man inside the clothes we 

 see, whom the world can never see only 

 as he is revealed by the work which he 

 does. 



On this line there was a man who 

 spoke thus of himself: "The works that 

 I do, they testify of me." And with as 

 much truth we can each say the same 

 words. It is not true of all gardeners, or 

 of all florists, that they are pure of 

 character, chaste in speech and temper- 

 ate in habit. But it is true of many of 

 them. They are among nature's noble- 

 men. The craft is full of inspiration; 

 but, as in all other walks of life, some 

 go at cross purposes with the tendency of 

 their calling. 



Inspiration and its Source. 



Not all who paint pictures are artists; 

 not all who build houses are architects; 

 not all who play on musical instruments 

 are musicians; but those who paint pic- 

 tures that survive are artists; those who 

 design massive structures, which combine 

 strength, grace and beauty for the hap- 

 piness and convenience of man, are arch- 

 itects; and those who compel the organ 

 to give forth such melodious sounds as to 

 convulse our natures and make the best 

 there is in us wage war with the worst 

 there is in us, are musicians. 



What great work can the world pro- 

 duce that was inspired by the sordid, 

 stupid stuff we call dollars? Not one. 

 The inspiration came from a higher 

 plain. There is much in this world that 

 is sordid, but it is not all sordid; much 

 that is bad, but it is not all bad. Be- 

 cause some politician is constantly look- 

 ing for graft, no reasonably honest man, 

 for a moment, thinks that is true of all 

 politicians. The true man has no itch- 

 ing palm, but he has the burning ambi- 

 tion to give expression to the thought 

 and purpose within. He becomes intense- 

 ly interested in his work. 



When once a man becomes absorbed in 

 some great and noble undertaking, he 

 wakes to a realization of the fact that 

 he is experiencing the happiest moment 

 of his life. He then, it may be for the 

 first time, realizes that Jesus knew where- 

 of he spoke when he said, "He that find- 

 eth his life shall lose it; and he that 

 loseth his life for my sake ' ' — for a great, 

 good and mighty purpose — ' ' shall find 

 it." 



Ideals in Business. 



A man goes into business and to some 

 it seems all sordid, and selfish and mean. 

 There are some who always live in the 

 lowlands intellectually and morally. They 

 cannot appreciate the man who lives 

 upon the highlands, in wholesome air, 

 healthful surroundings, and in God 's 

 sunshine. But business is not all sordid 

 and mean. It is what you make it. Your 

 craft is, in character, what you make it. 

 My business is all right. If it is base 

 and sordid it is because the man behind 

 the gun is base and sordid. 



The highest ideal known to man is 

 service. The apostle Paul in his letters 

 often spoke of himself as a slave of his 

 master, as one that serves. He who 

 serves his fellows most faithfully is him- 

 self most faithfully served. He that sows 

 sparingly reaps sparingly. 



Gentlemen, I must not weary you, but 

 allow me to congratulate you that you 



Skimmia Japonica, a Popular Christmas Plants at Boston. 



are all servants. Some are serving in a 

 public capacity, others in a private, but 

 we are all servants, and he serves best 

 who lives the purest, strives most intelli- 

 gently and acts the best. 



The Scope of the Horticulturist. 



And in closing let us look for a brief 

 moment at the scope of your labors. 

 You may possibly have moments when 

 you take a narrow view of the worth of 

 your calling. You may see the flowers 

 wither and decay, the vegetables eaten 

 and gone, and you may say there is no 

 permanent value as a result of your toil. 

 But if that were all, it were no mean 

 thing. The flowers served their purpose; 

 they gladdened human hearts; they 

 brought sunshine into many a sick cham- 

 ber. The vegetables you produced gave 

 nourishment and health to busy workers 

 of hand and brain. Their work could 

 not have been done as well but for your 

 work. This is the nearer view of the 

 situation. 



There is a broader outlook. Coming 

 generations will eat fruit from the trees 

 your hands have planted long years after 

 you are gone. Thousands and tens of 

 thousands of earth's weary sons and 

 daughters will sit beneath the strong 

 arms of the oaks and the elms and the 

 maples that you have planted and re- 

 fresh their wearied bodies. Happy child 

 life will voice a psalm of praise to their 

 unknown benefactor. 



Permanency of the Work. 



Soon your names will be forgotten but 

 your work will long remain. In a meas- 

 ure it will be true of you as it was of 

 those who fell at Gettysburg, whose great 

 work was summed up in a few well 

 chosen words by President Lincoln, "In 

 a large sense we cannot dedicate, we can- 

 not consecrate, we cannot hallow this 

 ground. The hv^y^ men living and dead, 

 who struggled (here have consecrated it 



far above our power to add or detract. 

 The world will little note nor long re- 

 member what we say here, but it can 

 never forget what they did here." 



But this is not all. Trees, like fruits 

 and flowers, have their day. The end 

 comes some time. The fashion of this 

 world changes. Is there nothing more 

 permanent that you have done? Yes, 

 for many of you have changed the very 

 face of nature. You have taken a rough, 

 unsightly stretch of country and con- 

 verted it into a veritable paradise of 

 beauty. With pick and shovel, instead 

 of the palette and brush you have 

 wrought a picture, a dream of beauty, 

 which will be more and more highly 

 prized by men and women for a thou- 

 sand generations. 



But does not this mark the end of the 

 sphere of influence of your craft? By 

 no means. The great soul of the artist 

 lives forever in the souls of men in- 

 spired by his touch. Shakespeare said, 

 "The evil men do lives after them, while 

 the good is oft interred with their 

 bones," and as truthfully can it be said 

 of great and good men in every walk in 

 life. The good men do lives after them. 

 Your life and mine in the final analysis 

 will be worth just what good we can do, 

 the service we can render in our time. 

 This is the great goal of life, the prize 

 to be coveted, the end to be sought. 



Lives of great men all remind us. 

 We can make our lives sublime 



And, departing, leave behind us. 

 Footprints on the sands of time. 



Footprints that perhaps another 

 Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 



A forlorn and shipwreclsed brother 

 Seeing, may take hope again. 



Let us then be up and doing 

 With a heart for any fate. 



Still achieving, still pursuing, 



Learn to labor and 



ursuing, 

 to wait. 



Altoona, Pa, — A. A. Whitebred 

 opened a store for the holiday season at 

 1503V^ Eleventh avenue, a convenience 

 to downtown shoppers. 



