The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1878-01-03
A Parable.

genius ioi phlutIuS anu STU pure. II
was not in this world that he was born,
but in world very much like this in
some respects, and very different in others.
The world in which this great genius was
bora was governed by "A benetcent and
wise Ruler, who had such wisdom and
such power that he decided, before each
being was born, for what purpose he
would best he fitted in life he then put
HIM in the place best suited to the work
he was TO do; and he gave into his hands
a set of instruments to do the work with.
There was one PECULIARLY about these
instruments: they could never be re-
placed; on this point the great and wise
Ruler was ineXoraOle. He said to every
being who was born into his realms:
.'liere is your set OF instruments to
work with; if you take good care of them,
they will last ii lifetime; if you let them
get rusty or broken, you can perhaps
have them frightened up a little or
mended; but they will never be as good
as new, and you can never have another
set. Now you see how important it is
that you keep them always in good
order"
This man of whom l speak had COM
plete set of all the tools necessary for a
sculptors work, and also complete set
of painters brushes and colors. He was
wonderful man; for he could make
very beautiful statues, and he could also
paint very beautiful pictures. He became,
while he was very Young, famous; ana
every body wanted something that he had
carved or painted.
Now | do not know whether it was
that he did not believe what the good
Ruler told him about his set of instru-
ments, or whether he did not care to keep
ON working any longer; but this is what
happened: he grew very careless about
his brushes, and let his tools lie out over
night where it was damp He left some
of his brushes full of paint for weeks, and
the paint dried in, so that when at asst he
tried to wash ii out, out came the bristles
by dozens, and the brushes were entirely
ruined The dampness OF the night air
rusted the edges OF some OF his very finest
tools, and the things which he had to use
10 clean off the rust were so powerful that
they ate into the fine metal of the tools.
and left the edges SO uneven that they
would no longer make fine strokes.
However, he kept on painting, and
making statues, and doing the best he
could with the few and imperfect tools
he had left. But people began to say,
what is the matter with this man pict-
uresl and what is the matter with his
statuesl He does not do half as good
work as he used to-
Then he was very angry, and said the
people were only envious and malicious;
that he was the same he always had been;
and his pictures and statues were as good
as ever. But he could not make any
body else think so. They all knew
better.
One day the Ruler sent for him, and
said To him:
Nov you have reached the prime of
your life; it is time that You should do
some really great work. | want grand
statue made tor the gateway of one OF nay
cities. Here j. the design. Take it home
aud study it, and see il you can under
take to execute it,
A. soon a the poor sculptor studied
the design, his heart sank within him;
there we're several parts of 1t which re-
quired the finest workmanship of one of
his most delicate instruments: that in
strument MAS entirely ruined by rust; the
edge was all eaten away in nOtches. In
vain he tried all possible devices to bring
it again to Il fine, sharp edge. Nothing
could be done with it. The most expe-
rienced workmen shook their heads as
tley saw it, and said:
No, no, sir! it is too late; if YOU had
brought it to Us at first, We might posi-
bly, have made it sharp enough for you to
use little while with great care; but it
is past help now" Then he ran frantic
ally around the country, trying to Dor
row similar instrument from some one
But one of the most remarkable peculiar
tiles about these sets of instruments Civ
en- by the Ruler OF this world sm speak
ing of was that they were of no Use at all
in the hands of anybody except the one
TO whom the Ruler had given them.
They were not fitted to his hand; he
could not make the kind of stroke he
wanted to make with them. So he went
sadly back to the Ruler, and said:
"Oh, sir, am most unhappy. | can
not execute this beautiful design for your
statue"
'But why cannot you execute III" said
the Ruler.
"Alas, sir" said the unfortunate man,
ssby some sad accident one of my finest
tools was So rusted that it cannot be re-
stored. Without that tool il is impos-
sible to m axe this statue"
Than thr. Rular locke very severely nj