26 
FLORIDA STATE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 
of our mental and moral constitution, 
that— 
“Hope springs eternal in the human breast; 
Man never is, but always to be blessed.” 
Today, while standing upon the narrow 
niche of ever fleeing time we peer back into 
the sepulchral portals of the buried past; 
and while ardently wishing it had been 
better, we, as it were, simultaneously 
hope, work and pray that the womb of 
the future, with all its unborn progeny, 
may have something better in store for 
us. 
Results in life are largely, very large¬ 
ly, what we make them in the exercise of 
industry, wisdom and sagacity. Accident 
and chance as factor in results, are but 
flimsy excuses or pretexts to cloak our 
ignorance, stupidity and failures. 
In the preparation of this address mat¬ 
ters purely and essentially horticultural 
have not had that prominence which has 
usually been customary, but as an offset 
to this, those who are in charge of the 
several committees and the authors of the 
various papers will give us a feast of 
knowledge and detail along horticultural 
highways, and byways that will make up 
for the deficiency. 
If I have touched questions of public 
interest in certain directions it has been 
because I feel that these questions are live 
wires charged with dangers that menace 
our welfare and I trust that the voicing 
of my personal sentiments may not be 
misunderstood or misconstrued. 
In conclusion, let us all work earnestly 
and faithfully to make this gathering 
one long to be remembered as one fruit¬ 
ful in good things, beneficial alike to 
every member of the Society, and to the 
cause of Horticulture. Let us in our dis¬ 
cussions, give up freely the treasures of 
personal experience; let each bring forth 
his little or much, to strengthen his broth¬ 
er and give him will, force and self-re¬ 
liance in his daily struggles. 
Finally may each and everyone of us 
live to a ripe old age in harmony with the 
last words of the great Victor Hugo, 
“Winter is on my head and eternal spring 
is in my heart. The nearer I approach 
the end, the plainer I hear around me the 
immortal symphonies of the worlds which 
invite me. For half a century I have been 
writing my thoughts in prose, verse, his¬ 
tory, philosophy, drama, romance, tradi¬ 
tion, satire, ode, song; I have tried all. 
But I feel I have not said the thousandth 
part of what is in me. My work is only 
a beginning. The thirst for infinity 
proves infinity.” 
