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From an unknown author comes the all-important question to every seeker for success:

“You want success. Are you willing to pay the price for it?

“How much discouragement can you stand?

“How much bruising can you take?

“How long can you hang on in the face of obstacles?

“Have you the grit to try to do what others have failed to do?

“Have you the nerve to attempt things that the average man would never dream of tackling?

“Have you the persistence to keep on trying after repeated failures?

“Can you cut out luxuries? Can you do without things that others consider necessities?

“Can you go up against skepticism, ridicule, friendly advice to quit, without flinching?

“Can you keep your mind steadily on the single object you are pursuing, resisting all temptations to divide your attention?

“Have you the patience to plan all the work you attempt; the energy to wade through masses of detail; the accuracy to overlook no point, however small, in planning or executing?

“Are you strong on the finish as well as quick at the start?

“Success is sold in the open market. You can buy it–I can buy it–any man can buy it who is willing to pay the price for it.”

Upon a time—I do not know
Exactly when, but long ago—
A man whose riches were untold.
Silver and precious stones and gold-
Within an Eastern city dwelt;
But not a moment’s peace he felt,
For fear that thieves should force his door,
And rob him of his treasured store.
In spite of armed slaves on guard,
And doors and windows locked and barred,
His life was one continual fright;
He hardly slept a wink by night,
And had so little rest” by day
That he grew prematurely gray.

At last he dug a monstrous pit
To hold his wealth, and buried it
By night, alone; then smoothed the ground
So that the spot could not be found.
But he gained nothing by his labor:
A curious, prying, envious neighbor,
Who marked the hiding, went and told
The Sultan where to find the gold.
A troop of soldiers came next day,
And bore the hoarded wealth away.

Some precious jewels still remained,
For which a goodly price he gained,
Then left the city, quite by stealth,
To save the remnant of his wealth;
But now, by hard experience taught,
A better way to keep it sought.
Broad lands he bought, and wisely tilled ;
With fruits and grain his barns he filled;
He used his wealth with liberal hand;
His plenty flowed through all the land;
And, hid no longer under-ground,
Spread honest comfort all around.

Thus calm and prosperous pass the years,
Till on a fated day he hears
The Sultan’s mandate, short and dread,
” Present thyself, or lose thy head!”
Fearful and trembling, he obeys,
For Sultans have their little ways,
And wretches who affront their lord
Brave bastinado, sack, or cord.

Before the dreaded throne he bowed
Where sat the Sultan, grim and proud,
And thought, “My head must surely fall,
And then my master will seize all
My wealth again.” But from the throne
There came a calm and kindly tone:
” My son; well pleased am I to see
Thy dealings in prosperity;
May Allah keep thee in good health !
Well hast thou learned the use of wealth.
No longer buried under-ground,
Its comforts spread to all around.’
The poor man’s blessings on thy name
Are better far than worldly fame.
I called thee hither. Now, behold,
Here are the silver, gems, and gold
I took from thee in other days;
Receive them back, and go thy ways,
For thou hast learned this truth at last—
Would that it might be sown broadcast!—
That riches are but worthless pelf
When hoarded only for one’s self.”

S. S. G.