33 
THE VETERINARIAN, JANUARY 1, 1860. 
Ne quid falsi dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat. — Cicero. 
THE ANNUAL ADDRESS OE THE EDITORS. 
“ Roll round, strange years; swift seasons come and go : 
Ye brand upon us only an outward sign ; 
Ye cannot touch the inward and divine.” 
So rapid is the flight of time that, were it not for recur¬ 
ring periods, we should almost fail to notice its progress. 
It seems not long since that we were engaged in reviewing 
the proceedings of the year then nearly passed; and now we 
are called upon to repeat the retrospect. It is well if this be 
pleasing; and if it should be otherwise, it may prove no 
less profitable, by causing us to search out wherein lies the 
cause of its not being so. 
From this stand-point, then, would we cast back a glance 
over what has been done by us during the year, so as to see 
what advance has been made. J Tis a self-imposed task, it is 
true; nevertheless, hitherto it has proved useful, since it 
has often been suggestive, whilst we have been enabled 
both to record our onward progress and to ascertain the 
position in which we stand as a profession. 
A pause in the march of time might almost be thought to 
take place at the close of one year and the beginning of 
another, so that this retrospective view might be made. By 
the older philosophers we have been told that the actual 
moment is the confluence of tw T o eternities. We stand for 
ever at the point between what is and what is to be. The 
past, therefore, should awaken in us fresh resolves for the 
future, since with it new responsibilities will devolve upon 
us. Each closing year is an epoch in our lives. We are 
then able to look back upon an ill- or a well-spent period 
of our existence; and our resolutions are to be taken 
accordingly. Should the inward monitor not accuse us, it 
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