The Rambles of an Idler 



outgrown. It is more applicable to-day than 

 when -^sop told it. It happens that an occa- 

 sional hare reaches the goal, but everywhere lie 

 the rotting carcasses of failure. The plodding 

 tortoise picks his way over them. 



A great city is a necessity, and so, too, are 

 the great guns in a fort. Neither are to be 

 played with. The village need not hide its face 

 because, once a day, the stage-coach still stops 

 at the post-oflSce. Yet a little farther : the farm 

 need not be jealous of the village. Its individ- 

 uality rests on a broader base. He is as much 

 a success in the better meaning of the word who 

 tills his fields as is the master of a town lot. It 

 is true many a man is but a speck on his farm 

 and the least missed of all objects when he 

 leaves it ; but the farm is not at fault. Nature 

 turns us out in the rough and it rests with our- 

 selves how we are finished. There is no divinity 

 except in ourselves to shape our ends. The 

 field and wood and meadow can overwhelm us 

 or we can tap the well-head of their secrets and 

 be crowned their master. The chances are in 

 our favor. Nature is not jealous of our efforts. 

 At times she looks kindly upon them. In the 



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