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Where God indeed has wrought
This mighty work of grace,
To sit at length the soul is brought,
All hope on Him to place.
All who in Jesus trust,

And love His yoke to bear ;
These, these are they who must
Regeneration share.

Regeneration gives

A meetness to the soul
To live above, where Jesus lives,
While endless ages roll.

Faith in the fount of blood,

And in Christ's righteousness,

Makcs sinners meet to dwell with God
In everlasting peace.

A WHISPER TO THE GALLERY.

ED.

THE prosperity of a Sunday-school depends greatly on its punctuality. This fact holds true both to teachers and scholars. It should be strictly enforced. There is life, vigour, pleasure, when all come in good time. When the superintendent and teachers are never late, the scholars will follow their example. Why should soldiers be more punctual in their duties than scholars? Punctuality is the soul of business in a school as much as in trade. An example may be of use in stirring up others : A teacher was accustomed to come a quarter of an hour too late. This was observed by a lady, who said to her one Sunday morning, "Do you know how much time you have lost this morning?" She replied, A quarter of an hour." "Oh, more than that, a good deal; one quarter of an hour for yourself, and one for each of your six scholars will make seven, or nearly two hours lost, and lost for ever!"

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That you may be led to feel and to see,
The fall made a ruin of you and of me.
A ruin, my child,
Are all of his race,

Who sinned against God,
And sank in disgrace.

But O, if your ruin with sorrow you see,
A Saviour there is for such sinners as we.
And if you, my child,

His mercy should crave,

And fly to His cross,

He surely will save.

You'll sing then, when Jesus by faith you

can see,

How suited a Saviour to sinners like me!

"I WILL TRY."

THERE is a Society in London, known as the Society of Arts. Its object is the encouragement of talent in the departments of art. Prizes are awarded by the Society, sometimes to painters for their pictures, and sometimes to humbler artisans for improvements in weaving, or in the manufacture of bonnets, lace, &c.

More than half a century ago, a little fellow, named William Ross, not twelve years of age, was talking with his mother about an exhibition of paintings at the Society's Rooms. William was very fond of paintings, and could himself draw and colour with remarkable skill. "Look you, William," said his mother, "I saw some paintings in the Exhibition which did not seem to me half as good as some of yours."

some that are

195

"I am sure of it," she replied. "I saw some "Do you really think so, mother?" asked he. paintings inferior, both in colour and drawing, to and he said, "I have a mind to ask permission to William knew that his mother was no flatterer, e hanging in your little chamber." one or two of my paintings on the walls at "Why not try for one of the prizes?" asked his

hang

the next Exhibition."

mother.

chance of success?"

"Oh! mother, do you think I should stand any "Nothing venture, nothing have," said his "And I will try, mother, dear," said William. "I have an historical subject in my head, out of which I think I can make a picture."

mother.

"You can but try."

"What is it, William?"

"The death of Wat Tyler. You have heard of him? He led a mob in the time of Richard the Second. Having behaved insolently before the

Walworth, Mayor of London, and then despatched

by the King's

attendants."

"It is a bold subject, William; but I will say nothing to deter you from trying it."

"If I fail, mother, where will be the harm? I can

try again."

"To be sure you can, William. So we will not be disappointed should you not succeed in winning the silver palette, offered by the Society for the best historical painting."

He first acquainted himself with the various cosWithout more ado, little William went to work. tumes of the year 1381; he learnt how the King and the noblemen used to dress, and what sort of

H 2

men, to which class Wat Tyler belonged. He also learnt what sort of weapons were carried in those days.

After having given some time to the study of these things, he acquainted himself thoroughly with the historical incidents attending the death of the bold rioter. He grouped, in imagination, the persons who were present at the scene-the King and his attendants; Walworth, the Mayor; Wat Tyler himself, and in the background some of his ruffianly companions.

The difficulty now was to select that period of the action best fitted for a picture, and to group the figures in attitudes the most natural and expressive. Many times did little William make a sketch of the scene on paper, and then obliterate it, dissatisfied with his work. At times he almost despaired of accomplishing any thing that should do justice to the conception in his mind. But after many trials and many failures, he completed a sketch which he decided to transfer to canvas.

He now laboured diligently at his task, and took every opportunity to improve himself in a knowledge of colours and their effects. At length the day for handing in his picture arrived. He then had to wait a month before there was any decision as to its merits. On the day appointed for the announcement of the decision, many persons of distinction were present, including ladies. The meeting was presided over by the Duke of Norfolk. William's mother was present, of course. She sat waiting the result, with a beating heart. a gratified mother she was, when, after the transaction of some uninteresting business, it was announced that the prize of a silver palette for the best historical picture was awarded to the painter of the piece entitled, "The Death of Wat Tyler."

What

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