Sir Horace Plunkett's leading idea was a simple one, and has become to-day almost a commonplace. He compared the backward state of agriculture in Ireland with the great advance that had been made in various continental countries, where the natural conditions were not dissimilar to those of Ireland, and asked himself the secret of the difference. That secret he found in the word _organisation_, and he set himself to organise. The establishment of co-operative creameries seemed to afford the most hopeful opening, and it was to this that Sir Horace Plunkett and a few personal friends, in the year 1889, directed their earliest missionary efforts. The difficulties to be overcome were at first very great. "My own diary," writes Sir Horace, "records attendance at fifty meetings before a single society had resulted therefrom. It was weary work for a long time. These gatherings were miserable affairs compared with those which greeted our political speakers." The experiences[70] of another of the little band of devoted workers, Mr. R.A. Anderson, now Secretary of the I.A.O.S., throw an interesting light upon the nature of some of the obstacles which the new movement had to encounter. "It was hard and thankless work. There was the apathy of the people, and the active opposition of the Press and the politicians. It would be hard to say now whether the abuse of the Conservative _Cork Constitution_, or that of the Nationalist _Eagle_ of Skibbereen, was the louder. We were 'killing the calves,' we were 'forcing the young women to emigrate,' we were 'destroying the industry.' Mr. Plunkett was described as a 'monster in human shape,' and was adjured to 'cease his hellish work.' I was described as his 'man Friday,' and as 'Roughrider Anderson.' Once when I thought I had planted a creamery within the town of Rathkeale, my co-operative apple-cart was upset by a local solicitor, who, having elicited the fact that our movement recognised neither political nor religious differences--that the Unionist-Protestant cow was as dear to us as her Nationalist-Catholic sister--gravely informed me that our programme would not suit Rathkeale. 'Rathkeale,' said he pompously, 'is a Nationalist town--Nationalist to the backbone--and every pound of butter made in this creamery must be made on Nationalist principles, or it shan't be made at all.' This sentiment was applauded loudly, and the proceedings terminated."