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The razor having one day come forth from the handle which serves as
its sheath and having placed himself in the sun, saw the sun
reflected in his body, which filled him with great pride. And
turning it over in his thoughts he began to say to himself: "And
shall I return again to that shop from which I have just come?
Certainly not; such splendid beauty shall not, please God, be turned
to such base uses. What folly it would be that could lead me to
shave the lathered beards of rustic peasants and perform such menial
service! Is this body destined for such work? Certainly not. I will
hide myself in some retired spot and there pass my life in tranquil
repose." And having thus remained hidden for some months, one day he
came out into the air, and issuing from his sheath, saw himself
turned to the similitude of a rusty saw while his surface no longer
reflected the resplendent sun. With useless repentance he vainly
deplored the irreparable mischief saying to himself: "Oh! how far
better was it to employ at the barbers my lost edge of such
exquisite keenness! Where is that lustrous surface? It has been
consumed by this vexatious and unsightly rust."
The same thing happens to those minds which instead of exercise give
themselves up to sloth. They are like the razor here spoken of, and
lose the keenness of their edge, while the rust of ignorance spoils
their form.
A FABLE.
994
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