she rewarded the surprising attempt, emboldened him to say that, if she pleased, he would make pictures of the flowers she held in her hand. He did so; and from that moment the impulse of genius was active within him; he felt that he could give a form to the image of his mind, and was ever busy with the labour.

Being sent to school, soon after this incident, he was permitted to amuse himself during the hours of relaxation by drawing with a pen and ink. With the next summer came a party of Indians, upon a trafficking visit to Springfield: and the barbarians, pleased with the little sketches of birds and beasts which Benjamin showed them, instructed him how to mix the red and yellow colours, with which they painted themselves. To these his mother added a piece of indigo, and thus was the infant artist put in possession of the three primary colours. No anecdote can be more pleasing than the contemplation of this romantic fact-the wild Indian from the woods taught West to prepare the prismatic colours.

The want of pencils soon became a matter of thoughtful regret he was told they were small brushes of camel's hair, inserted in quills-but then there were no camels in America; they could not be caught or killed in the forest, and he had never seen them sold. This was a serious dilemma, from which the bushy tail of a large black cat, which was an especial favourite with his father, ere long relieved him. Armed with his mother's scissars, he made, his first pencil from the fur of Tom's tail. But the tail only furnished one pencil, and that was soon worn out; so that he was next obliged to have recourse to the back, which he soon clipped so bare, that his father observed the sad reduction of sleekness and rotundity in the person of his favourite, and became so uneasy with his fears for Tom's decay, that the aspiring artist could not avoid confessing the true cause: forgiveness was the reward of his ingenuousness.

In the course of a year the family sitting-room was hung in a manner very unusual for the severe plainness of a Quaker's residence-with drawings of birds, beasts, and flowers, &c. from the cat's-hair pencil of little Benjamin. About this time a relation from Philadelphia, surprised to see such performances by a boy only eight years old, undertook to remedy the badness of his materials, by sending him a box of paints and pencils from the city. The arrival of this present, with several pieces of

canvass, prepared for the easel, along with it, and six engravings, formed an era in the life of the young artist. His every want was now supplied beyond the most sanguine extent of his hopes; oils, paints, ivories, and pencils, were here in plenty; but the engravings, no specimens of which he had ever seen before, filled his mind with the highest satisfaction, and rendered him the most important service. He took his box with him to bed, and held it in uneasy slumbers, until the day broke, when he ascended to the garret, forgot his school-hours, and laboured indefatigably for days together until he finished his first painting on canvass. It is still preserved, and will always be admired. But the greatest benefit thus done the artist, was the full conversion it effected of his mother's prejudices against the pursuit, into an unreserved approbation of his extraordinary success.

A short visit to Philadelphia produced him his first introduction to a brother artist, whose name was Williams. From him he received the works of Fresnoy and Richardson, on painting, besides the advantages of seeing a tolerably good collection of prints and drawings in his possession. Returning home, he obtained acquaintance with the most respectable gentry in the neighbourhood, and from them derived his first earnest of fortune in the profession, by presents of a crown-piece for each of several drawings he made on polished wood with chalk and charcoal. Immediately after these essays he became a portrait painter by invitation. Amongst the number of his new friends and patrons was a Mr. Henry, a very ingenious mechanic, who conceived the death of Socrates would be a favourable subject for the pencil of young Benjamin, and warmly exhorted him to attempt it. But the artist was forced to confess that he knew nothing of the philosopher; the only biography he had read was the scriptural life of Adam, his first father, or of Moses. To remedy this efficiency, Henry lent him a translation of Plutarch; but another difficulty arose; West very properly felt that the slave presenting the poison should be a naked figure; and he did not know how to do justice to it. Without answering the objection at the moment, Henry sent for a young slave of his, and bade him kneel down-then pointing to West he exclaimed "There is your model :" the lesson from nature was convincing, and West finished the design with alacrity. Amongst others to whom it was

shown was Dr. Smith, Provost of the College at Philadelphia, who was so much delighted with the performance, that he offered to educate the boy-a generosity which his parents gratefully accepted.

These pursuits continued so prosperously until Benjamin attained his sixteenth year, that at length the more rigid among his father's religious associates took alarm, at the probability there seemed that the young Quaker would become a painter. By them the profession was deemed censurable, because they thought it vain in its purposes, and useless in its ends; and at last it became a conscientious doubt with the old gentleman, whether or not the predilection of his son should be farther encouraged. In order to satisfy his mind, he convoked an assembly of the Society of Friends, and submitted himself to their judgment for the rule of his conduct. Much diversity of argument prevailed upon the subject, and the result was extremely critical, when one John Williams, an able preacher amongst them, who deserves honourable record for the effects of his speech on this interesting occasion, addressed the doubtful meeting. After a general opening, he pointed to old Mr. West and his wife, and forcibly expatiated upon the blameless tenour of their lives. "They have had," he then continued, "ten children, whom they have carefully bred up in the fear of God, and in the Christian religion; and the youth, whose lot in life we are now convened to consider, is Benjamin, their youngest child, It is known to you all, that God is pleased, from time to time, to bestow upon some men extraordinary gifts of mind, and you need not be told, by how wonderful an inspiration, their son has been led to cultivate the art of painting. It is true, that our tenets deny the utility of that art to mankind: but God has bestowed upon the youth a genius for that art; and can we believe that Omniscience bestows His gifts but for great purposes? What God has given, who shall dare to throw away? Let us not estimate Almighty wisdom by our notions; let us not presume to arraign his judgment by our ignorance; but in the evident propensity of the young man be assured, that we see an impulse of the divine hand operating towards a high and beneficent end." These arguments were irresistible, and the sect was moved to liberality; such another scene has never been described in the history of religious opinions, yet such

an event is perfectly concordant with the unusual character of West's early years.

Soon after this incident the American war broke out, and West served as a volunteer companion in arms with young Wayne, who subsequently shared so much of the glory which Washington obtained in the liberation of his country. The period of West's soldiership does not appear to have been of any duration; for he is soon found again at Philadelphia, and afterwards at New York, making still farther progress in the art of historical painting, and under the most flattering circumstances. Indeed, so general was the conviction of his genius, that a proposition was voluntarily made by his mercantile friends to defray the expenses of a visit to that land of the arts-unhappy Italy. Arrived at Rome, he was immediately introduced to the most distinguished nobles and literati; and it became a matter of fashion to pay attention to the young Quaker. Large parties were made to accompany him on his visits to the different remains of antiquity, and the most celebrated monuments of later ages; and the greatest eagerness was manifested to learn the effects which the exhibitions would produce upon his ingenuous mind. His comparison of the Apollo to a young Mohawk warrior, was natural, but unacceptable to the classical vanity of the Italians; and the coolness with which he surveyed the paintings of Raphael, in the Vatican, neither answered his own expectations, nor the admiration of his curious companions. West afterwards confessed that he was at first unequal to the task of appreciating such exalted beauties: Michael Angelo pleased him still less, and never shared much of his regard. But the far-famed horses on the Monte Carvallo, ascribed to Phidias, more than realized all his anticipations, and drew forth unqualified admiration and praise. Completing the tour of the Italian cities, he was elected a member of the Academies of Florence, Bologna and Parma; and then proceeded to Paris. There he was more noticed as an object of curiosity than civility; but had the consolation of being assured by his friends, that his observations upon the state of his art in France, as well in every theoretical as every practical view, were eminently just, and and highly beneficial.

In 1763 West came to London: as usual, his reputation had preceded him, and he was no sooner arrived, than he was

courted by every rank of society. Such a reception quickly determined him to make England his place of residence. With this view he married a country woman from Philadelphia, and, in 1764, opened an exhibition room in Spring Gardens. In 1765, when the incorporation of the artists took place, he was associated a member, and appointed a Director of the Institution.And here it may not be amiss to say a few words upon the state of historical painting in this country, up to the period of West's arrival among us; for by stating what had been done before him, it will be the more easy to estimate the value of his productions.

It was for a long series of years the weakness of our English monarchs, rather to sorrow idly over the want of talent in their subjects for the beautiful art of painting, than to make any vigorous exertions to correct the deficiency. To be without an artist of distinction was beneath the ornament and dignity of their courts; but by a lamentable perversion of vanity, they preferred inviting foreign painters to share their profusion, than encourage our own countrymen to deserve their liberality. Thus the first advance towards any thing allied with excellence in historical painting was not made until the time of Sir James Thornhill, who died in the reign of Queen Anne. The most creditable works of his pencil were the Dome of St. Paul's, and the Hall of Greenwich Hospital. He was a man of undoubted talent, but his taste was not equal to his conception, and his knowledge was even inferior to his taste. To Sir John Thornhill succeeded Hogarth, a man who would have done honour to any age, and every country. His attempts at what are strictly called historical paintings were certainly valueless, in comparison with his satirical compositions; but perhaps it will be a pardonable excess in the application of the term, if we venture to include some of the more serious of his delineations within the limits of that branch of the art; for it would be difficult to reject from the merit of equal rank with it any efforts which, like his, trace the story of human passions or the vicissitudes of mortal character in a style the most serviceable to the cause of virtue, however unworthy the individuals represented may be of any record from the dignity of history itself. One only man intervened between Hogarth and West-Hayman, and he barely deserved the name of an historical painter.