A cow! Now, of all things in the world; of what use was a cow to an
ambitious boy who wanted to go to college? Yet a cow, and nothing more,
was the capital, the entire stock in trade, of an aspiring farmer boy
who felt within him a call to another kind of life than that his father
led.
This youth, who was yet in his teens, next to his father and mother,
loved a book better than anything else in the world, and his great
ambition was to go to college, to become a "scholar." Whether he
followed the plow, or tossed hay under a burning July sun, or chopped
wood, while his blood tingled from the combined effects of exercise and
the keen December wind, his thoughts were ever fixed on the problem,
"How can I go to college?"
His parents were poor, and, while they could give him a comfortable
support as long as he worked on the farm with them, they could not
afford to send him to college. But if they could not give him any
material aid, they gave him all their sympathy, which kept the fire of
his resolution burning at white heat.
There is some subtle communication between the mind and the spiritual
forces of achievement which renders it impossible for one to think for
any great length of time on a tangled problem, without a method for its
untanglement being suggested. So, one evening, while driving the cows
home to be milked, the thought flashed across the brain of the would-be
student: "If I can't have anything else for capital, why can't I have a
cow? I could do something with it, I am sure, and to college I MUST go,
come what will." Courage is more than half the battle. Decision and
Energy are its captains, and, when these three are united, victory is
sure. The problem of going to college was already more than half solved.
Our youthful farmer did not let his thought grow cold. Hurrying at once
to his father, he said, "If you will give me a cow, I shall feel free,
with your permission, to go forth and see what I can do for myself in
the world." The father, agreeing to the proposition, which seemed to
him a practical one, replied heartily, "My son, you shall have the best
milch cow I own."
Followed by the prayers and blessings of his parents, the youth started
from home, driving his cow before him, his destination being a certain
academy between seventy-five and one hundred miles distant.
Very soon he experienced the truth of the old adage that "Heaven helps
those who help themselves." At the end of his first day's journey, when
he sought a night's lodging for himself and accommodation for his cow
in return for her milk, he met with unexpected kindness. The good
people to whom he applied not only refused to take anything from him,
but gave him bread to eat with his milk, and his cow a comfortable barn
to lie in, with all the hay she could eat.
During the entire length of his journey, he met with equal kindness and
consideration at the hands of all those with whom he came in contact;
and, when he reached the academy, the principal and his wife were so
pleased with his frank, modest, yet self-confident bearing, that they
at once adopted himself and his cow into the family. He worked for his
board, and the cow ungrudgingly gave her milk for the general good.
In due time the youth was graduated with honors from the academy. He
was then ready to enter college, but had no money. The kind-hearted
principal of the academy and his wife again came to his aid and helped
him out of the difficulty by purchasing his cow. The money thus
obtained enabled him to take the next step forward. He bade his good
friends farewell, and the same year entered college. For four years he
worked steadily with hand and brain. In spite of the hard work they
were happy years, and at their close the persevering student had won,
in addition to his classical degree, many new friends and well-wishers.
His next step was to take a theological course in another institution.
When he had finished the course, he was called to be principal of the
academy to which honest ambition first led him with his cow.
Years afterward a learned professor of Hebrew, and the author of a
scholarly "Commentary," cheered and encouraged many a struggling youth
by relating the story of his own experiences from the time when he, a
simple rustic, had started for college with naught but a cow as capital.
This story was first related to the writer by the late Frances E.
Willard, who vouched for its truth.