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NECESSITY OF LABOUR

batsman or a first-rate bowler; we want good long-stops, cautious wicket-keepers, and dexterous cover-points. For each man, on this beautiful earth of ours, God has assuredly provided a vocation, if he will but earnestly seek to discover it, and afterwards to labour in it with diligence and devoutness, as in the sight of Heaven:

"They also serve who only stand and wait;"

and God's blessing rests on the rank and file, as surely as on the leaders of the host, if rank and file do but fulfil their duty.

Alas,

When Giardini was asked how long it would take to learn the violin, he replied, “Twelve hours a day for twenty years together." too many of us think to play our fiddles by a species of inspiration! I knew a brilliant pianiste, who assured me that for years she had practised seven hours daily. These Blondins and Leotards, whose gymnastic achievements attract admiring crowds-what labour they must have undergone-what perseverance they must have displayed-an energy and a purpose that, directed into better channels, might have made them benefactors of mankind. Inquire of Grisi, or Mario; of Charles Kean, or Mac

TO SECURE EXCELLENCE.

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ready; of John Gibson, or Sir Edwin Landseer; how they have risen into fame, and they will tell you, by hard work-by unflagging perse

verance.

Dr. Young used to say that

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any man can do what any other man has done; a maxim not true in itself, though capable of extended application. He endeavours to prove its truth, however, by his own example. The following story is told of him: "The first time he mounted a horse, he was accompanied by the grandson of Mr. Barclay, of Ury, a distinguished equestrian. His companion having leapt a high fence, Young proceeded to follow his example, but, in the attempt, was thrown off his horse. He immediately remounted; made a second effort, and was again unsuccessful. Most men would have been deterred from another venture; but not so Dr. Young, and at the third trial he had the satisfaction of clearing the fence."

The early career of the great Spanish painter, Sebastian Gomez, affords an extraordinary example of successful application. He was a mulatto, and a slave of Murillo's, employed to wait upon the pupils of that illustrious master. Heaven had gifted him with a passionate love of art; but none of the young Spaniards who

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GOMEZ THE MULATTO.

amused their idle hours by laughing at his dark complexion and uncouth features, suspected how daring a soul that ungainly form enshrined. He received no lessons; from none did he ever gain a hint or suggestion; but he watched, oh, how vigorously! every movement of the students, and scrutinized the daily progress of their labours. At length he attempted to imitate. what he saw, devoting to his secret toil the hours of the silent night, until, growing bolder and more confident, he ventured to correct the errors of outline and colouring which his keen eye observed in the drawings of Murillo's pupils. So when the young Spaniards came in the morning, they saw with surprise, that an arm. had been added here, a leg there; that inharmonious proportions had been adjusted; that woolly and fleecy skies had been toned and softened into summer-lighted heavens; and patches of ultramarine converted into sweet woodland lakes. With the superstitious feeling of the age, they accredited these improvements to some mysterious nocturnal visitor, and Gomez, to escape suspicion, confirmed their folly by declaring it must be the Zombi-a spirit of whom the negroes are tremblingly afraid. But

finely painted head of the Virgin having

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THE CALCULATING BOY.

attracted Murillo's attention, the great master, convinced that Zombis would not paint Madonnas, instituted a rigid investigation, and discovered with surprise and admiration that it was the work of his mulatto-boy. He summoned Gomez to the studio, and when the poor slave flung himself on his knees and confessed the secret of his nightly vigils, he raised him up with words of encouragement, promised him his liberty, and adopted him as his pupil and successor.

Gomez rose to a high position as a painter, and finished many admirable works, remarkable for their truth and depth of expression, their warmth and softness of colouring. He is best known in art-history as Murillo's mulatto, and only survived his illustrious master a few years, dying about 1689 or 1690.

Bidder, the eminent civil engineer, well-known in his youth as the "Calculating Boy," has publicly attributed his successful career to his early habit of persevering application. Just as Luther's maxim, when translating the Psalms into German, was,—

"Nulla dies sine linea,"

"No day without a line," so Bidder's seems to have been, "No day without something done."