CHAPTER III.
FAILURE AND SUCCESS: A PROLOGUE.
FAILURE and Success passed away from Earth, and found themselves in a
Foreign Land. Success still wore her laurel-wreath which she had won on
Earth. There was a look of ease about her whole appearance; and there
was a smile of pleasure and satisfaction on her face, as though she knew
she had done well and had deserved her honours.
Failure's head was bowed: no laurel-wreath encircled it. Her face was
wan, and pain-engraven. She had once been beautiful and hopeful, but
she had long since lost both hope and beauty. They stood together,
these two, waiting for an audience with the Sovereign of the Foreign
Land. An old grey-haired man came to them and asked their names.
"I am Success," said Success, advancing a step forward, and smiling at
him, and pointing to her laurel-wreath.
He shook his head.
"Ah," he said, "do not be too confident. Very often things go by
opposites in this land. What you call Success, we often call Failure;
what you call Failure, we call Success. Do you see those two men waiting
there? The one nearer to us was thought to be a good man in your world;
the other was generally accounted bad.
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