Napoleon Hill

Croesus, who was advisor to Cyrus, king of the Persians: I am reminded, O king, and take this lesson to heart, that there is a wheel on which the affairs of men revolve and its mechanism is such that it prevents any man from being always fortunate. What a wonderful lesson is wrapped up in those words - a lesson of hope and courage and promise. Who of us has not seen off days, when everything seemed to go wrong? These are the days when we see only the flat side of the great wheel of life. Let us remember that the wheel is always turning. If it brings us sorrow today, it will bring us joy tomorrow. Life is a cycle of varying events - fortunes and misfortunes. We cannot stop this wheel of fate from turning, but we can modify the misfortune it brings us by remembering that good fortune will follow, just as surely as night follows day, if we but keep faith with ourselves and earnestly and honestly do our best. In his greatest hours of trial the immortal Lincoln was heard, often, to say: And this, too, will soon pass. If you are smarting from the effects of some temporary defeat, which you find it hard to forget, let me recommend this stimulating little poem, by Walter Malone. 39 OPPORTUNITY They do me wrong who say I come no more When once I knock and fail to find you in; For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake, and rise to fight and win. Wail not for precious chances passed away; Weep not for golden ages on the wane; Each night I burn the records of the day; At sunrise every soul is born again. Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire wring not your hands and weep, I lend my arm to all who say, I can! No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But yet might rise and be again a man! Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast? Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow? Then turn from blotted archives of the past And find the future's pages white as snow. Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell; 40 Art thou a sinner? Sin may be forgiven; Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell, Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven. STRIVE not to banish pain and doubt, In pleasures noisy din; The peace thou seekest from without, Is only found within. Cary