This would readily be called success.
Every one likes to know how another man wins success.
Well, here is the way the minister did it : t. He studied that farm until he knew every foot of it.
2. He fertilized it, and made it yield the largest return possible.
3. He studied the subject of farm waste until he actually arrived at the point where there was no waste whatever, either in the barns or in the soil.
4. He specialized dairy farming, producing the finest quality of milk that a man can get by doing everything in the best way.
5. He planned the work, and made other people do it just exactly as he told them.
6. These five things spell just one word of six letters : System.
Of course, when a clergyman works with the soil of the earth in this way, there are men who sit on the rail fence and pass remarks about him. But after a while they look again, more closely, and come over to ask him how he does it.
The news of this man reached Washington, D. C., and the Department of Agriculture sent a man to investigate. He was so astonished at what he saw that he wrote an account of it, called Farmers' Bulletin, No. 242, in which he told the whole story.
And the newspapers did the same thing. Mat was the result? This: The owner found it necessary to sell the farm because of the attention which it had at tracted. Visitors became so numerous that the work of the farm could not be conducted in a satisfactory manner.
So he quietly moved away to manage an other farm in the same way.
And here is the case of another dreamer, of one whose dream came true, but who, through affliction, was compelled to dream again later in life.
There recently died at Graz, Austria, a man who was essentially great, true to himself and to his calling.
His name was Max De Lipman. He was by birth a baron, but he preferred not to use the title, and to live among his associates as a man successful in his calling. He was the fore most newspaper illustrator in the United States, when, in 1898, he was stricken with paralysis.
His speech was affected, and his right hand and arm became useless. What did he do? He patiently set himself to work to study drawing again with his left hand. This task, this going to school to master the other side of his body, while trying to adjust himself to life with half his body stricken into useless ness, took eighteen months. Then he went back to his desk again.
Up to the time of his death he worked with the same enthusiasm that made him determined to conquer his left hand. It is said of him that he made pen and ink sketches of more men in public life than any other living artist.
It is often impressive to read what men do in affliction. Such stories always move us. We are apt to think that they belong to other days, and are to be found only in books. But here is a case that in recent days was going on here among us. Max De Lipman, from the day of his physical misfortune, was mastering as difficult a task as ever fell to any man.
Sir Walter Scott had to face a similar•situa tion when, with body broken in health, he undertook to wipe off an indebtedness of hun dreds of thousands of dollars with his power of imagination. Beethoven, absolutely deaf for a quarter of a century, went on undaunted writing the music that he could not hear save in the imagination that gave it birth.
Laura Bridgman, deprived of nearly all the senses, rose to conquer her limitations to such an extent that her case, like that of Helen Kellar of to-day, became known the world over. No writing of Charles Dickens' is more interest ing than is that chapter in his American Notes that relates his impressions of Miss Bridgman's attainment.
It is a wonderful privilege to have a body finely attuned, in splendid condition, capable of responding to any demand we make upon it. But we must always remember that back of the body there is the mind, ready and capable of speaking its message, even though the body on which it has depended is suddenly bruised and broken.
Men who face affliction and rise superior to it, are they who realize the supremacy of the mind. If one cylinder of their engine breaks down in mid-ocean, they proceed to come in slowly under reduced steam.
But they come in.
It is easy to accustom one's self to depend on outside helps, and to overlook the mind power that is the one essential power.
Max De Lipman kept his title of baron hid den, and offered himself to the world on the basis of his genius and attainment as an artist.
It is easy, when affliction overtakes us, to sit down in the wreck of our own body, and give up, losing sight of the very power that makes the body act—namely, the power of the mind.
Max De Lipman did not recognize his afflic tion, except so far as to find in it an inspiration; an inspiration to throw aside, to forget it, to sit down patiently and to begin once more, steadily teaching the left hand that degree of skill and cunning that affliction had forever taken away from his wonderful right hand. In the doing of it, the mind was the one supreme, inspiring power.