Am.  Jour.  Pharm.\ 
October,  1902.  J 
Our  Centennial. 
477 
the  age  of  our  Society,  were  here  ?  And  even  more'strange  is  it  that 
one  who  feels  assured  that  neither  matured  friend  nor  himself  will 
then  stand  here,  should  thus  preface  his  remarks  and  thus  title  his 
subject  ?  Few  among  the  very  youngest  men  present  can  hope  to 
meet  with  those  who  fifty  years  from  now  will  celebrate  this  cen- 
tennial anniversary.  Audacious,  then,  in  view  of  these  facts,  is  it 
not  to  head  this  paper  "  our  centennial,"  this  paper  which  bespeaks 
an  event  destined  to  occur  more  than  a  generation  hence? 
Let  us,  however,  ask  whose  by  right  is  the  semi-centennial  jubilee 
we  hold  this  day  ?  Let  us  see  who  it  is  that  stands  conspicuous  in 
all  that  takes  our  thought  and  action  on  the  present  occasion. 
Surely  not  you  and  I,  my  friends,  even  though  we  may  have  been 
in  rank  these  many  years,  even  though  a  few  can  look  back  to  the 
very  beginning.  You  who  listen  to  these  words,  you  whose  faces, 
be  they  young  or  old,  turn  upon  me  as  I  speak,  meet  not  here  to 
celebrate  your  own  good  selves.  Even  the  concern  of  the  pioneer 
is  not  in  laudation  of  his  own  works — he  celebrates  not  himself. 
Nor  do  we  meet  to  glorify  those  whose  names  on  our  printed  pro- 
gram are  designated  as  taking  part  in  these  exercises.  Nor  to  those 
whose  turn  it  is  either  to  precede  or  follow  me  this  dav  in  a  word  of 
tribute  or  a  kindly  offering  in  behalf  of  this  Society's  semi-centen- 
nial. Nor  yet  to  those  of  our  members  whose  business  cares  or 
physical  misfortunes  prevent  their  personal  presence  on  this  happy 
occasion.  This  is  not  a  self-admiration  society.  The  men  who 
move  before  us  and  speak  aloud  this  day  do  not,  on  their  own 
account,  bring  us  together  on  this  our  markedly  eventful  mission. 
No.  The  unseen  touch  that  comes  to  each  heart,  as  memory 
tells  of  the  past  and  of  men  no  longer  with  us,  beats  the  throb  no. 
The  silent  voice  that  no  longer  vibrating  air  or  touching  ear,  yet 
clear  and  distinct  both  in  accent  and  modulation,  lingers  in  recol- 
lection to  him  who  knew  it  once,  bids  us  speak  the  word  "no.  The 
printed  line  that  tells  of  action  done  by  an  ever-to-be  absent  com- 
rade lies  in  a  volume  on  our  shelves,  but  the  words  are  not  a  slum- 
bering nothing.  To  us  who  heard  their  creator  speak,  they  yet 
linger  in  realms  realistic  and  bid  us  give  credit  to  absent  friends 
who  earned  their  part  in  this  semi-centennial  of  our  Society. 
Behold,  where  sits  the  present  secretary,  rises  to  our  mind's  view 
another  face.  Where  stands  our  president,  a  chain,  of  absent  faces 
upliit  themselves.   Our  treasurer  has  genial  company  in  our  thought. 
