great men illustrate the same principle. Of late attention has
been called to the fact that our cities are being ruled by men whose
childhood and youth were spent in the country. Isolated, brooding for
years in the fields and forests, these boys developed a forceful
individuality. A recent canvass of the prominent men in New York City
showed that eighty-five per cent were reared in the villages and rural
districts. Seventeen of our twenty-three presidents came from the
farm. A census of the colleges and seminaries in and about Chicago
showed that the country is furnishing eighty per cent of our college
students. The chances of success seem one hundred to one in favor of
the country boy. Many explain this by saying that there is a
mathematical relation between a fine physique and a firm, intellectual
tread. Good thinking rests upon fine brain-fiber. But this is only
half the truth.

These giants from the country learned in youth not to depend upon
books and newspapers, but upon their eyes and ears. Having no external
resources, they turned their thoughts inward and led forth their own
faculties. They did not wait until they opened the journal to find out
what they thought about some important subject, but, unaided, they
wrought out their own opinions, and through self-reliance grew great.
Should any sower go forth to sow in the streets of the city, he would
reap but a small harvest. The hard, beaten roadway would give the
grain no lodgment; but sown on the open furrows, the seed roots and
grows. Thus the mind of the city youth is a roadway beaten down by the
myriad events of life. His individuality is a root having little
chance to grow.

The mornings rain newspapers, the evenings increase events, the very
skies rain pamphlets. Individuality is overwhelmed with many things.
Soon the mind ceases to develop its own mental treasure, and is
content to receive its incitements from without. Because schools and
colleges are multiplied, the youth who has never gone to the bottom of
a single subject imagines that he is a fine student. Because his
shelves are crowded with books, the man deceives himself into thinking
that he has read them all. Because our age is rich in mechanical
appliances and inventions, many who cannot drive a nail straight
imagine that they have been really instrumental in ushering in this
magnificent epoch. Many sing peans of exultation over this wondrous
civilization who are mental and industrial paupers