I nodded and he laughed. “I have not endowed a university nor made a
fortune, nor conquered an enemy in battle,” he said.
“And those who have done such things have not written ‘Locusts and Wild
Honey’ and ‘Wake, Robin.’”
“I recognize,” he said, quietly, “that success is not always where
people think it is. There are many ways of being successful, and I do
not approve of the mistake which causes many to consider that a great
fortune acquired means a great success achieved. On the contrary, our
greatest men need very little money to accomplish the greatest work.”
“I thought that anyone leading a life so wholly at variance with the
ordinary ideas and customs would see success in life from a different
point of view,” I observed. “Money is really no object with you?”
“The subject of wealth never disturbs me.”
“You lead a very simple life here?”
“Such as you see.”
The sight would impress anyone. So far is this disciple of nature
away from the ordinary mode of the world that his little cabin, set
in the cup-shaped top of a hill, is practically bare of luxuries and
the so-called comforts of life. His surroundings are of the rudest,
the very rocks and bushes encroaching upon his back door. All about,
the crest of the hill encircles him, and shuts out the world. Only the
birds of the air venture to invade his retreat from the various sides
of the mountain, and there is only a straggling, narrow path, which
branches off a dozen times before it takes the true direction. In his
house are no decorations but such as can be hung upon the exposed wood.
The fireplace is of brick, and quite wide; the floor, rough boards
scrubbed white; the ceiling, a rough array of exposed rafters, and his
bed a rudely constructed work of the hand. Very few and very simple
chairs, a plain table and some shelves for books made the wealth of the
retreat and serve for his ordinary use.
“Many people think,” I said, “that your method of living is an ideal
example of the way people ought to live.”
“There is nothing remarkable in that. A great many people are very
weary of the way they think themselves compelled to live. They are
mistaken in believing that the disagreeable things they find themselves
doing, are the things they ought to do. A great many take their idea of
a proper aim in life from what other people say and do. Consequently,
they are unhappy, and an independent existence such as mine strikes
them as ideal. As a matter of fact, it is very natural.”