though not ungraceful in life, is unusual in art.' On another occasion, a lady with some impatience in her nature was sitting for her portrait; every minute she changed her position, and with every change of position put on a change of expression, until his patience gave way. 'Lord, woman!' exclaimed the unceremonious sculptor, 'what's the matter how handsome you are, if you won't sit still till I model you!' The lady smiled, and sat ever afterwards like a lay figure."
AN OVERPLUS OF MODESTY.
It has been remarked by some close observer, that
modesty is like shadow in a picture—too much of it
obscures real excellence, while the proper medium
exhibits all parts in agreeable relief. John Riley,
an English portrait painter who flourished in the latter
part of the seventeenth century, was a proof
that one may have a superabundance of this in itself
excellent quality. Walpole says, "He was one
of the best native artists who had flourished in England;
but he was very modest, had the greatest
diffidence of himself, and was easily disgusted with
his own works. His talents were obscured by the
fame rather than by the merit of Kneller, and with
a quarter of the latter's vanity, he might have persuaded
the world that he was as great a master."
He was but little noticed until the death of Lely,
when Chiffinch being persuaded to sit to him, the
picture was shown, and recommended him to the
