ts a pupil around who
sees all over, above and beyond him, and who can do better work than he.
It's confusing, and tends to rob the master of the deification that is
his due.

Reynolds had remained long enough--it was time for him to go.

He went back to Devonshire, and Craunch, the biggest man in Plympton,
took him over to Lord Edgecumbe, the biggest man in Plymouth.

Craunch carried along the portrait of himself that Joshua had made, and
asked milord if he didn't want one just like it. Edgecumbe said he surely
did, and asked Joshua if he painted the picture all alone by himself.

Joshua smiled.

Lord Edgecumbe had a beautiful house, and to have a good picture of
himself, and a few choice old ancestors on the walls, he thought would be
very fine.

Joshua took up his abode in the Edgecumbe mansion, the better to do his
work.

He was a handsome youth, nearly twenty years old, with bright, beaming
eyes, a slight but compact form, and brown curls that came to his
shoulders. His London life had given him a confidence in himself, and in
his manner there was a grace and poise flavored with a becoming
diffidence.

A man who can do things well should assume a modesty, even if he has it
not. If you can write well, do not talk--leave that to the man who can do
nothing else. If you can paint, let your work speak for you.

Joshua Reynolds was young, but he was an artist in diplomacy. His talent,
his modesty, his youth, his beauty, won the hearts of the entire
Edgecumbe household.

He painted portraits of all the family; and of course all the visitors
were called upon to admire, not only the pictures, but the painter as
well.

A studio was opened in one of Lord Edgecumbe's buildings at Plymouth, and
he painted portraits of all the great folks thereabout.

On Christmas-Day, Seventeen Hundred Forty-six, the Reverend Samuel
Reynolds died, but before his death he fully realized that one of his
children was well on the way to fame and fortune.

The care of the broken family now devolved on Joshua, but his income was
several times as much as his father had ever earned, and his
responsibilities were carried lightly.

While at the house of Lord Edgecumbe, Reynolds had met young Commodore
Keppel. In Seventeen Hundred Forty-nine, Keppel was placed in command of
the Mediterranean fleet, with orders to clear the seas of the Barbary
pirates. Keppel invited Reynolds to join him on board the "Centurion" as
his guest.

Gladly h