Part I._The Life, Studies, and Works of Benjamin West, Esq. Composed from Materials Furnished by Himself

Produced by Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders

The Life, Studies, and Works of Benjamin West, Esq.

President of the Royal Academy of London

Composed from Materials Furnished by Himself

By John Galt, Esq.

Author of the Life and Administration of Cardinal Wolsey, &c.

1820.

Part I.

Alexander Gordon, Esq.

This little work

Is respectfully inscribed

By the Author.

Preface.

The professional life of Mr. West constitutes an important part of an

historical work, in which the matter of this volume could only have been

introduced as an episode, and, perhaps, not with much propriety even in

that form. It was my intention, at one time, to have prepared the whole of

his memoirs, separately, for publication; but a careful review of the

manuscript convinced me, that the transactions in which he has been

engaged, subsequently to his arrival in England, are so much of a public

nature, and belong so immediately to the history of the Arts, that such a

separation could not be effected without essentially impairing the

interest and unity of the main design; and that the particular nature of

this portion of his memoirs admitted of being easily detached and arranged

into a whole, complete within itself.

I do not think that there can be two opinions with respect to the utility

of a work of this kind. Mr. West, in relating the circumstances by which

he was led to approximate, without the aid of an instructor, to those

principles and rules of art, which it is the object of schools and

academies to disseminate, has conferred a greater benefit on young Artists

than he could possibly have done by the most ingenious and eloquent

lectures on the theories of his profession; and it was necessary that the

narrative should appear in his own time, in order that the authenticity of

the incidents might not rest on the authority of any biographer.

_April_ 25,1816.

John Galt.

Contents.

Chap. I.

The Birth and Paternal Ancestry of Mr. West.--His Maternal

Family.--His Father.--The Origin of the Abolition of Slavery by the

Quakers.--The Progress of the Abolition.--The Education of the

Negroes.--The Preaching of Edmund Peckover.--His Admonitory Prediction

to the Father of West.--The first Indication of Benjamin's

Genius.--State of Society in Pennsylvania.--The Indians give West the

Primary Colours.--The Artist's first Pencils.--The Present of a Box of

Colours and Engravings.--His first Painting.

Chap. II.

The Artist visits Philadelphia.--His second Picture.--Williams the

Painter gives him the works of Fresnoy and Richardson.--Anecdote of

the Taylor's Apprentice.--The Drawings of the Schoolboys.--Anecdote

relative to Wayne.--Anecdote relative to Mr. Flower.--Anecdote

relative to Mr. Ross.--Anecdote of Mr. Henry.--The Artist's first

Historical Picture.--Origin of his Acquaintance with Dr. Smith of

Philadelphia.--The friendship of Dr. Smith, and the character of the

early companions of West.--Anecdote of General Washington.

Chap. III.

The course of instruction adopted by Provost Smith.--The Artist led

to the discovery of the Camera.--His Father becomes anxious to place

him in business.--Extraordinary proceedings of the Quakers in

consequence.--The Speech of Williamson the Preacher in defence of the

Fine Arts.--Magnanimous Resolution of the Quakers.--Reflections on

this singular transaction.

Chap. IV.

Reflections on the Eccentricities of Young Men of Genius with respect

to pecuniary matters.--The Death of the Artist's Mother.--The

Embodying of the Pennsylvanian Militia; an Anecdote of General

Wayne.--The Artist elected Commandant of a corps of Volunteer

boys.--The circumstances which occasioned the Search for the Bones of

Bradock's army.--The Search.--The Discovery of the Bones of the

Father and Brother of Sir Peter Halket.--The Artist proposed

afterwards to paint a Picture of the Discovery of the Bones of the

Halkets.--He commences regularly as a Painter.--He copies a St.

Ignatius.--He is induced to attempt Historical Portraiture.--His

Picture of the Trial of Susannah.--Of the merits of that Picture.

Chap. V.

Motives which induced him to visit New York.--State of Society in New

York.--Reflections on the sterility of American

talent.--Considerations on the circumstances which tend to produce

Poetical feelings.--The causes which produced the peculiarities in the

state of Society in New York.--The Accident which led the Artist to

discover the method of colouring Candle-light and Fire effects after

Nature.--- He copies Strange's engraving of Belisarius, by Salvator

Rosa.--The occurrence which hastened his Voyage to Italy, with the

Anecdote of his obligations to Mr. Kelly.--Reflections on Plutarch,

occasioned by reference to the effect which his works had on the mind

of West.--The Artist embarks; occurrence at Gibraltar.--He arrives at

Leghorn.--Journey to Rome.

Chap. VI.

State of the stationary Society of Rome.--Causes which rendered the

City a delightful temporary residence.--Defects of the Academical

methods of study.--His introduction to Mr. Robinson.--Anecdote of

Cardinal Albani.--The Cardinal's method of finding Resemblances, and

curious mistake of the Italians.--The Artist's first visit to the

Works of Art.

Chap. VII.

Anecdote of a famous Improvisatore.--West the subject of one of his

finest effusions.--Anecdote of Cardinal Albani.--West introduced to

Mengs.--Satisfactory result of West's first essay in

Rome.--Consequence of the continual excitement which the Artist's

feelings endured.--He goes to Florence for advice.--He accompanies

Mr. Matthews in a tour.--Singular instance of liberality towards the

Artist from several Gentlemen of Philadelphia.

Chap. VIII.

The result of the Artist's experiment to discover the methods by which

Titian produced his splendid colouring.--He returns to Rome.

--Reflections suggested by inspecting the Egyptian Obelisk.

--Considerations of the Author on the same subject; an anecdote of a

Mohawk Indian who became an Actor at New York.--Anecdote of a Scottish

Fanatic who arrived in Rome to convert the Pope.--Sequel of the

Adventure.--The Artist prepares to visit England.--Having completed

his St. Jerome, after Corregio's famous picture, he is elected an

Honorary Member of the Academy of Parma, and invited to Court.--He

proceeds by the way of Genoa towards France.--Reflections on the Stale

of Italy.--Adventure on reaching the French frontiers.--State of

Taste in France.

The Life and Studies of Benjamin West

Chap. I.

The Birth and Paternal Ancestry of Mr. West.--His Maternal

Family.--His Father.--The Origin of the Abolition of Slavery by the

Quakers.--The Progress of the Abolition.--The Education of the

Negroes.--The Preaching of Edmund Peckover.--His Admonitory Prediction

to the Father of West.--The first Indication of Benjamin's

Genius.--State of Society in Pennsylvania.--The Indians give West the

Primary Colours.--The Artist's first Pencils.--The Present of a Box of

Colours and Engravings.--His first Painting.

Benjamin West, the subject of the following Memoirs, was the youngest son

of John West and Sarah Pearson, and was born near Springfield, in Chester

County, in the State of Pennsylvania, on the 10th of October, 1738.

The branch of the West family, to which he belongs, has been traced in an

unbroken series to the Lord Delawarre, who distinguished himself in the

great wars of King Edward the Third, and particularly at the battle of

Cressy, under the immediate command of the Black Prince. In the reign of

Richard the Second, the ancestors of Mr. West settled at Long Crandon in

Buckinghamshire. About the year 1667 they embraced the tenets of the

Quakers; and Colonel James West, the friend and companion in arms of the

celebrated Hampden, is said to have been the first proselyte of the

family. In 1699 they emigrated to America.

Thomas Pearson, the maternal grandfather of the Artist, was the

confidential friend of William Penn, and accompanied him to America. On

their first landing, the venerable Founder of the State of Pennsylvania

said to him, "Providence has brought us safely hither; thou hast been the

companion of my perils, what wilt thou that I should call this place?" Mr.

Pearson replied, that "since he had honoured him so far as to desire him

to give that part of the country a name, he would, in remembrance of his

native City, call it Chester." The exact spot where these patriarchs of

the new world first landed, is still pointed out with reverence by the

inhabitants. Mr. Pearson built a house and formed a plantation in the

neighbourhood, which he called Springfield, in consequence of discovering

a large spring of water in the first field cleared for cultivation; and it

was near this place that Benjamin West was born.

When the West family emigrated, John, the father of Benjamin, was left to

complete his education at the great school of the Quakers at Uxbridge, and

did not join his relations in America till the year 1714. Soon after his

arrival he married the mother of the Artist; and of the worth and piety of

his character we have a remarkable proof in the following transactions,

which, perhaps, reflect more real glory on his family than the

achievements of all his heroic ancestors.

As a part of the marriage portion of Mrs. West he received a negro slave,

whose diligence and fidelity very soon obtained his full confidence.

Being engaged in trade, he had occasion to make a voyage in the West

Indies, and left this young black to superintend the plantation in his

absence, During his residence in Barbadoes, his feelings were greatly

molested, and his principles shocked, by the cruelties to which he saw the

negroes subjected in that island; and the debasing effects were forcibly

contrasted in his mind with the morals and intelligence of his own slave.

Conversing on this subject with Doctor Gammon, who was then at the head of

the community of Friends in Barbadoes, the Doctor convinced him that it

was contrary to the laws of God and Nature that any man should retain his

fellow-creatures in slavery. This conviction could not rest long inactive

in a character framed like that of Mr. West. On his return to America he

gave the negro his freedom, and retained him as a hired servant.

Not content with doing good himself, he endeavoured to make others follow

his example, and in a short time his arguments had such an effect on his

neighbours, that it was agreed to discuss publicly the general question of

Slavery. This was done accordingly; and, after debating it at many

meetings, it was resolved by a considerable majority THAT IT WAS THE DUTY

OF CHRISTIANS TO GIVE FREEDOM TO THEIR SLAVES. The result of this

discussion was soon afterwards followed by a similar proposal to the head

meeting of the Quakers in the township of Goshen in Chester County; and

the cause of Humanity was again victorious. Finally, about the year 1753,

the same question was agitated in the annual general assembly at

Philadelphia, when it was ultimately established as one of the tenets of

the Quakers, that no person could remain a member of their community who

held a human creature in slavery. This transaction is perhaps the first

example in the history of communities, of a great public sacrifice of

individual interest, not originating from considerations of policy or the

exigences of public danger, but purely from moral and religious

principles.

The benevolent work of restoring their natural rights to the unfortunate

Negroes, did not rest even at this great pecuniary sacrifice. The Society

of Friends went farther, and established Schools for the education of

their children; and some of the first characters among themselves

volunteered to superintend the course of instruction.

In the autumn of 1738, Edmund Peckover, a celebrated Orator among the

Quakers, came to the neighbourhood of Springfield, and on the 28th of

September preached in a meeting-house erected by the father of Mrs. West

at the distance of about a mile and a half from his residence. Mrs. West

was then the mother of nine children, and far advanced in her pregnancy

with Benjamin.--Peckover possessed the most essential qualities of an

impressive speaker, and on this occasion the subject of his address was of

extraordinary interest to his auditors. He reviewed the rise and progress

of society in America, and with an enthusiastic eloquence which partook of

the sublimity and vehemence of the prophetic spirit, he predicted the

future greatness of the country. He described the condition of the

European nations, decrepid in their institutions, and corrupt in their

morality, and contrasted them with the young and flourishing

establishments of the New World. He held up to their abhorrence the

licentious manners and atheistical principles of the French, among whom

God was disregarded or forgotten; and, elevated by the importance of his

subject, he described the Almighty as mustering his wrath to descend on

that nation, and disperse it as chaff in a whirlwind. He called on them to

look towards their home of England, and to see with what eager devotion

the inhabitants worshiped the golden image of Commerce, and laid the

tribute of all their thoughts on its altars; believing that with the power

of the idol alone, they should be able to withstand all calamities. "The

day and the hour are, however, hastening on, when the image shall be

shaken from its pedestal by the tempest of Jehovah's descending vengeance,

its altars overturned, and the worshipers terribly convinced that without

the favour of the Almighty God there is no wisdom in man! But," continued

this impassioned orator, "from the woes and the crimes of Europe let us

turn aside our eyes; let us turn from the worshipers of Commerce, clinging

round their idols of gold and silver, and, amidst the wrath, the storm,

and the thunder, endeavouring to hold them up; let us not look at the land

of blasphemies; for in the crashing of engines, the gushing of blood, and

the shrieking of witnesses more to be pitied than the victims, the

activity of God's purifying displeasure will be heard; while turning our

eyes towards the mountains of this New World, the forests shall be seen

fading away, cities rising along the shores, and the terrified nations of

Europe flying out of the smoke and the burning to find refuge here."--All

his auditors were deeply affected, particularly Mrs. West, who was taken

with the pains of labour on the spot. The meeting was broken up; the women

made a circle round her as they carried her home, and such was the

agitation into which she was thrown, that the consequences had nearly

proved fatal both to the mother and the infant, of which she was

prematurely delivered.

This occurrence naturally excited much attention, and became the subject

of general conversation. It made a deep impression on the mind of Mr.

West, who could not divest himself of a feeling that it indicated

something extraordinary in the future fortunes of his child; and when

Peckover, soon afterwards, on his leaving that part of the country, paid

him a farewell visit, he took an opportunity of introducing the subject.

The warm imagination of the Preacher eagerly sympathised with the feelings

of his friend. He took him by the hand, and, with emphatic solemnity, said

that a child sent into the world under such remarkable circumstances would

prove no ordinary man; and he charged him to watch over the boy's

character with the utmost degree of paternal solicitude. It will appear in

the sequel, that this singular admonition was not lost on Mr. West.

The first six years of Benjamin's life passed away in calm uniformity;

leaving only the placid remembrance of enjoyment. In the month of June

1745, one of his sisters, who had been married some time before, and who

had a daughter, came with her infant to spend a few days at her father's.

When the child was asleep in the cradle, Mrs. West invited her daughter to

gather flowers in the garden, and committed the infant to the care of

Benjamin during their absence; giving him a fan to flap away the flies

from molesting his little charge. After some time the child happened to

smile in its sleep, and its beauty attracted his attention. He looked at

it with a pleasure which he had never before experienced, and observing

some paper on a table, together with pens and red and black ink, he seized

them with agitation, and endeavoured to delineate a portrait: although at

this period he had never seen an engraving or a picture, and was only in

the seventh year of his age.

Hearing the approach of his mother and sister, he endeavoured to conceal

what he had been doing; but the old lady observing his confusion, enquired

what he was about, and requested him to show her the paper. He obeyed,

entreating her not to be angry. Mrs. West, after looking some time at the

drawing with evident pleasure, said to her daughter, "I declare he has

made a likeness of little Sally," and kissed him with much fondness and

satisfaction. This encouraged him to say, that if it would give her any

pleasure, he would make pictures of the flowers which she held in her

hand; for the instinct of his genius was now awakened, and he felt that he

could imitate the forms of those things which pleased his sight.

This curious incident deserves consideration in two points of view. The

sketch must have had some merit, since the likeness was so obvious,

indicating how early the hand of the young artist possessed the power of

representing the observations of his eye. But it is still more remarkable

as the birth of the fine arts in the New World, and as one of the few

instances in the history of art, in which the first inspiration of genius

can be distinctly traced to a particular circumstance. The drawing was

shown by Mrs. West to her husband, who, remembering the prediction of

Peckover, was delighted with this early indication of talent in his son.

But the fact, though in itself very curious, will appear still more

remarkable, when the state of the country at that period, and the peculiar

manners of the Quakers, are taken into consideration.

The institutions of William Penn had been sacredly preserved by the

descendants of the first settlers, with whom the remembrance of the causes

which had led their ancestors to forsake their native country, was

cherished like the traditions of religion, and became a motive to

themselves, for indulging in the exercise of those blameless principles,

which had been so obnoxious to the arrogant spirit of the Old World. The

associates of the Wests and the Pearsons, considered the patriarchs of

Pennsylvania as having been driven from England, because their endeavours

to regulate their conduct by the example of Jesus Christ, mortified the

temporal pretensions of those who satisfied themselves with attempting to

repeat his doctrines; and they thought that the asylum in America was

chosen, to facilitate the enjoyment of that affectionate intercourse which

their tenets enjoined, free from the military predilections and political

jealousies of Europe. The effect of this opinion tended to produce a state

of society more peaceful and pleasing than the World had ever before

exhibited. When the American Poets shall in future times celebrate the

golden age of their country, they will draw their descriptions from the

authentic history of Pennsylvania in the reign of King George the Second.

From the first emigration in 1681, the colony had continued to thrive with

a rapidity unknown to the other European Settlements. It was blessed in

the maxims upon which it had been founded, and richly exhibited the fruits

of their beneficent operation. At the birth of Benjamin West it had

obtained great wealth, and the population was increasing much more

vigorously than the ordinary reproduction of the human species in any

other part of the world. In the houses of the principal families, the

patricians of the country, unlimited hospitality formed a part of their

regular economy. It was the custom among those who resided near the

highways, after supper and the last religious exercise of the evening, to

make a large fire in the hall, and to set out a table with refreshments

for such travellers as might have occasion to pass during the night; and

when the families assembled in the morning they seldom found that their

tables had been unvisited. This was particularly the case at Springfield.

Poverty was never heard of in the land. The disposition to common charity

having no objects, was blended with the domestic affections, and rendered

the ties of friendship and kindred stronger and dearer. Acts of liberality

were frequently performed to an extent that would have beggared the

munificence of the Old World. With all these delightful indications of a

better order of things, society in Pennsylvania retained, at this time,

many of those respectable prejudices which gave a venerable grace to

manners, and are regarded by the practical philosopher as little inferior

in dignity to the virtues. William Penn was proud of his distinguished

parentage, and many of his friends traced their lineage to the antient

and noble families of England. In their descendants the pride of ancestry

was so tempered with the meekness of their religious tenets, that it lent

a kind of patriarchal dignity to their benevolence.

In beautiful contrast to the systematic morality of the new inhabitants,

was the simplicity of the Indians, who mingled safe and harmless among the

Friends. In the annual visits which they were in the practice of paying to

the Plantations, they raised their huts in the fields and orchards without

asking leave, nor were they ever molested. Voltaire has observed, that the

treaty which was concluded between the Indians and William Penn was the

first public contract which connected the inhabitants of the Old and New

World together, and, though not ratified by oaths, and without invoking

the Trinity, is still the only treaty that has never been broken. It may

be further said, that Pennsylvania is the first country which has not been

subdued by the sword, for the inhabitants were conquered by the force of

Christian benevolence.

When the great founder of the State marked out the site of Philadelphia in

the woods, he allotted a piece of ground for a public library. It was his

opinion, that although the labour of clearing the country would long

employ the settlers, hours of relaxation would still be requisite; and,

with his usual sagacity, he judged that the reading of books was more

conducive to good morals and to the formation of just sentiments, than any

other species of amusement. The different counties afterwards instituted

libraries, which the townships have also imitated: where the population

was insufficient to establish a large collection of books, the

neighbouring families formed themselves into societies for procuring the

popular publications. But in these arrangements for cultivating the powers

of the understanding, no provision was made, during the reign of George

the Second, for improving the faculties of taste. The works of which the

libraries then consisted, treated of useful and practical subjects. It was

the policy of the Quakers to make mankind wiser and better; and they

thought that, as the passions are the springs of all moral evil when in a

state of excitement, whatever tends to awaken them is unfavourable to that

placid tenour of mind which they wished to see diffused throughout the

world. This notion is prudent, perhaps judicious; but works of imagination

may be rendered subservient to the same purpose. Every thing in

Pennsylvania was thus unpropitious to the fine arts. There were no cares

in the bosoms of individuals to require public diversions, nor any

emulation in the expenditure of wealth to encourage the ornamental

manufactures. In the whole Christian world no spot was apparently so

unlikely to produce a painter as Pennsylvania. It might, indeed, be

supposed, according to a popular opinion, that a youth, reared among the

concentrating elements of a new state, in the midst of boundless forests,

tremendous waterfalls, and mountains whose summits were inaccessible to

"the lightest foot and wildest wing," was the most favourable situation

to imbibe the enthusiasm either of poetry or of painting, if scenery and

such accidental circumstances are to be regarded as every thing, and

original character as nothing. But it may reasonably be doubted if ever

natural scenery has any assignable influence on the productions of genius.

The idea has probably arisen from the impression which the magnificence of

nature makes on persons of cultivated minds, who fall into the mistake of

considering the elevated emotions arising in reality from their own

associations, as being naturally connected with the objects that excite

them. Of all the nations of Europe the Swiss are the least poetical, and

yet the scenery of no other country seems so well calculated as that of

Switzerland to awaken the imagination; and Shakespeare, the greatest of

all modern Poets, was brought up in one of the least picturesque districts

of England.

Soon after the occurrence of the incident which has given rise to these

observations, the young Artist was sent to a school in the neighbourhood.

During his hours of leisure he was permitted to draw with pen and ink; for

it did not occur to any of the family to provide him with better

materials. In the course of the summer a party of Indians came to pay

their annual visit to Springfield, and being amused with the sketches of

birds and flowers which Benjamin shewed them, they taught him to prepare

the red and yellow colours with which they painted their ornaments. To

these his mother added blue, by giving him a piece of indigo, so that he

was thus put in possession of the three primary colours. The fancy is

disposed to expatiate on this interesting fact; for the mythologies of

antiquity furnish no allegory more beautiful; and a Painter who would

embody the metaphor of an Artist instructed by Nature, could scarcely

imagine any thing more picturesque than the real incident of the Indians

instructing West to prepare the prismatic colours. The Indians also taught

him to be an expert archer, and he was sometimes in the practice of

shooting birds for models, when he thought that their plumage would look

well in a picture.

His drawings at length attracted the attention of the neighbours; and some

of them happening to regret that the Artist had no pencils, he enquired

what kind of things these were, and they were described to him as small

brushes made of camels' hair fastened in a quill. As there were, however,

no camels in America, he could not think of any substitute, till he

happened to cast his eyes on a black cat, the favourite of his father;

when, in the tapering fur of her tail, he discovered the means of

supplying what he wanted. He immediately armed himself with his mother's

scissors, and, laying hold of Grimalkin with all due caution, and a proper

attention to her feelings, cut off the fur at the end of her tail, and

with this made his first pencil. But the tail only furnished him with one,

which did not last long, and he soon stood in need of a further supply. He

then had recourse to the animal's back, his depredations upon which were

so frequently repeated, that his father observed the altered appearance of

his favourite, and lamented it as the effect of disease. The Artist, with

suitable marks of contrition, informed him of the true cause; and the old

gentleman was so much amused with his ingenuity, that if he rebuked him,

it was certainly not in anger.

Anecdotes of this kind, trifling as they may seem, have an interest

independent of the insight they afford into the character to which they

relate. It will often appear, upon a careful study of authentic biography,

that the means of giving body and effect to their conceptions, are rarely

withheld from men of genius. If the circumstances of Fortune are

unfavourable, Nature instructs them to draw assistance immediately from

herself, by endowing them with the faculty of perceiving a fitness and

correspondence in things which no force of reasoning, founded on the

experience of others, could enable them to discover. This aptness is,

perhaps, the surest indication of the possession of original talent. There

are minds of a high class to which the world, in the latitude of its

expressions, often ascribes genius, but which possess only a superior

capacity for the application of other men's notions, unconnected with any

unusual portion of the inventive faculty.

In the following year Mr. Pennington, a merchant of Philadelphia, who was

related to the West family, came to pay a visit to Mr. West. This

gentleman was also a member of the Society of Friends, and, though

strictly attentive to the peculiar observances of the sect, was a man of

pleasant temper and indulgent dispositions. He noticed the drawings of

birds and flowers round the room, unusual ornaments in the house of a

Quaker; and heard with surprise that they were the work of his little

cousin. Of their merit as pictures he did not pretend to judge, but he

thought them wonderful productions for a boy only entering on his eighth

year, and being told with what imperfect materials they had been executed,

he promised to send the young Artist a box of paints and pencils from the

city. On his return home he fulfilled his engagement, and at the bottom of

the box placed several pieces of canvass prepared for the easel, and six

engravings by Grevling.

The arrival of the box was an æra in the history of the Painter and his

art. It was received with feelings of delight which only a similar mind

can justly appreciate. He opened it, and in the colours, the oils, and

the pencils, found all his wants supplied, even beyond his utmost

conceptions. But who can describe the surprise with which he beheld the

engravings; he who had never seen any picture but his own drawings, nor

knew that such an art as the Engraver's existed! He sat over the box with

enamoured eyes; his mind was in a flutter of joy; and he could not refrain

from constantly touching the different articles, to ascertain that they

were real. At night he placed the box on a chair near his bed, and as

often as he was overpowered by sleep, he started suddenly and stretched

out his hand to satisfy himself that the possession of such a treasure was

not merely a pleasing dream. He rose at the dawn of day, and carried the

box to a room in the garret, where he spread a canvass, prepared a pallet,

and immediately began to imitate the figures in the engravings. Enchanted

by his art he forgot the school hours, and joined the family at dinner

without mentioning the employment in which he had been engaged. In the

afternoon he again retired to his study in the garret; and for several

days successively he thus withdrew and devoted himself to painting. The

schoolmaster, observing his absence, sent to ask the cause of it. Mrs.

West, affecting not to take any particular notice of the message,

recollected that she had seen Benjamin going up stairs every morning, and

suspecting that the box occasioned his neglect of the school, went to the

garret, and found him employed on the picture. Her anger was appeased by

the sight of his performance, and changed to a very different feeling. She

saw, not a mere copy, but a composition from two of the engravings. With

no other guide than that delicacy of sight which renders the Painter's

eye, with respect to colours, what the Musician's ear is with respect to

sounds, he had formed a picture as complete, in the scientific arrangement

of the tints, notwithstanding the necessary imperfection of the

pencilling, as the most skilful Artist could have painted, assisted by the

precepts of Newton. She kissed him with transports of affection, and

assured him that she would not only intercede with his father to pardon

him for having absented himself from school, but would go herself to the

master, and beg that he might not be punished. The delightful

encouragement which this well-judged kindness afforded to the young

Painter may be easily imagined; but who will not regret that the mother's

over-anxious admiration would not suffer him to finish the picture, lest

he should spoil what was already in her opinion perfect, even with half

the canvass bare? Sixty-seven years afterwards the writer of these Memoirs

had the gratification to see this piece in the same room with the sublime

painting of "Christ Rejected," on which occasion the Painter declared to

him that there were inventive touches of art in his first and juvenile

essay, which, with all his subsequent knowledge and experience, he had not

been able to surpass.

Chap. II.

The Artist visits Philadelphia.--His second Picture.--Williams the

Painter gives him the works of Fresnoy and Richardson.--Anecdote of

the Taylor's Apprentice.--The Drawings of the Schoolboys.--Anecdote

relative to Wayne.--Anecdote relative to Mr. Flower.--Anecdote

relative to Mr. Ross,--Anecdote of Mr. Henry.--The Artist's first

Historical Picture.--Origin of his Acquaintance with Dr. Smith of

Philadelphia.--The friendship of Dr. Smith, and the character of the

early companions of West.--Anecdote of General Washington.

In the course of a few days after the affair of the painting, Mr.

Pennington paid another visit to Mr. West; and was so highly pleased with

the effect of his present, and the promising talents of his young

relation, that he entreated the old gentleman to allow Benjamin to

accompany him for a few days to Philadelphia. This was cheerfully agreed

to, and the Artist felt himself almost, as much delighted with the journey

as with the box of colours. Every thing in the town filled him with

astonishment; but the view of the shipping, which was entirely new,

particularly attracted his eye, and interested him like the imaginary

spectacles of magic.

When the first emotions of his pleasure and wonder had subsided, he

applied to Mr. Pennington to procure him materials for painting. That

gentleman was desirous of getting possession of the first picture, and had

only resigned what he jocularly alleged were his just claims, in

consideration of the mother's feelings, and on being assured that the next

picture should be purposely painted for him. The materials were procured,

and the Artist composed a landscape, which comprehended a picturesque view

of a river, with vessels on the water, and cattle pasturing on the banks.

While he was engaged in this picture, an incident occurred which, though

trivial in itself, was so much in unison with the other circumstances that

favoured the bent of his genius, that it ought not to be omitted.

Samuel Shoemaker [Footnote: This gentleman was afterwards introduced by

Mr. West to the King, at Windsor, as one of the American Loyalists.], an

intimate friend of Mr. Pennington, one of the principal merchants of

Philadelphia, happened to meet in the street with one Williams, a Painter,

carrying home a picture. Struck by the beauty of the performance, he

enquired if it was intended for sale, and being told that it was already

disposed of, he ordered another to be painted for himself. When the

painting was finished, he requested the Artist to carry it to Mr.

Pennington's house, in order that it might be shewn to young West. It was

very well executed, and the boy was so much astonished at the sight of it,

that his emotion and surprise attracted the attention of Williams, who was

a man of observation, and judged correctly in thinking that such an

uncommon manifestation of sensibility in so young a boy, indicated

something extraordinary in his character. He entered into conversation

with him, and enquired if he had read any books, or the lives of great

men, The little amateur told him that he had read the Bible, and was well

acquainted with the history of Adam, Joseph, David, Solomon, and the other

great and good men whose actions are recorded in the Holy Scriptures.

Williams was much pleased with the simplicity of the answer; and it might

have occurred to him that histories more interesting have never been

written, or written so well. Turning to Mr. Pennington, who was present,

he asked if Benjamin was his son; advising him at the same time to indulge

him in whatever might appear to be the bent of his talents, assuring him

that he was no common boy.

This interview was afterwards much spoken of by Williams, who in the mean

time lent him the works of Fresnoy and Richardson on Painting, and invited

him to see his pictures and drawings. The impression which these books

made on the imagination of West finally decided his destination. He was

allowed to carry them with him into the country; and his father and

mother, soon perceiving a great change in his conversation, were referred

to the books for an explanation of the cause. They read them for the first

time themselves, and treasuring in their minds those anecdotes of the

indications of the early symptoms of talent with which both works abound,

they remembered the prophetic injunction of Edmund Peckover.

The effect of the enthusiasm inspired by Richardson and Fresnoy may be

conceived from the following incident. Soon after the young Artist had

returned to Springfield, one of his schoolfellows, on a Saturday's half

holiday, engaged him to give up a party at trap-ball to ride with him to

one of the neighbouring plantations. At the time appointed the boy came,

with the horse saddled. West enquired how he was to ride; "Behind me,"

said the boy; but Benjamin, full of the dignity of the profession to which

he felt himself destined, answered, that he never would ride behind any

body. "O! very well then," said the good-natured boy, "you may take the

saddle, and I will get up behind you." Thus mounted, they proceeded on

their excursion; and the boy began to inform his companion that his father

intended to send him to be an apprentice. "In what business?" enquired

West; "A taylor," answered the boy. "Surely," said West, "you will never

follow that trade;" animadverting upon its feminine character. The other,

however, was a shrewd, sound-headed lad, and defended the election very

stoutly, saying that his father had made choice of it for him, and that

the person with whom he was to learn the business was much respected by

all his neighbours. "But what do you intend to be, Benjamin?" West

answered, that he had not thought at all on the subject, but he should

like to be a painter. "A painter!" exclaimed the boy, "what sort of a

trade is a painter? I never heard of such a thing." "A painter," said

West, "is a companion for Kings and Emperors." "Surely you are mad,"

replied the boy, "for there are no such people in America." "Very true,"

answered Benjamin, "but there are plenty in other parts of the world." The

other, still more amazed at the apparent absurdity of this speech,

reiterated in a tone of greater surprise, "You are surely quite mad." To

this the enthusiast replied by asking him if he really intended to be a

taylor. "Most certainly," answered the other. "Then you may ride by

yourself, for I will no longer keep your company," said West, and,

alighting, immediately returned home.

The report of this incident, with the affair of the picture, which had

occasioned his absence from school, and visit to Philadelphia, made a

great impression on the boys in the neighbourhood of Springfield. All

their accustomed sports were neglected, and their play-hours devoted to

drawing with chalk and oker. The little president was confessedly the most

expert among them, but he has often since declared, that, according to his

recollection, many of his juvenile companions evinced a degree of taste

and skill in this exercise, that would not have discredited the students

of any regular academy.

Not far from the residence of Mr. West a cabinet-maker had a shop, in

which Benjamin sometimes amused himself with the tools of the workmen. One

day several large and beautiful boards of poplar tree were brought to it;

and he happening to observe that they would answer very well for drawing

on, the owner gave him two or three of them for that purpose, and he drew

figures and compositions on them with ink, chalk, and charcoal. Mr. Wayne,

a gentleman of the neighbourhood, having soon after occasion to call at

his father's, noticed the boards in the room, and was so much pleased with

the drawings, that he begged the young Artist to allow him to take two or

three of them home, which, as but little value was set on them, was

thought no great favour, either by the painter or his father. Next day Mr.

Wayne called again, and after complimenting Benjamin on his taste and

proficiency, gave him a dollar for each of the boards which he had taken

away, and was resolved to preserve. Doctor Jonathan Moris, another

neighbour, soon after, also made him a present of a few dollars to buy

materials to paint with. These were the first public patrons of the

Artist; and it is at his own request that their names are thus

particularly inserted.

About twelve months after the visit to Philadelphia, Mr. Flower, one of

the Justices of the county of Chester, who possessed some taste in

painting, requested Mr. West to allow Benjamin to spend a few weeks at his

house. A short time before, this gentleman had met with a severe domestic

misfortune in the loss of a wife, to whom he was much attached; and he

resolved to shew his respect to her memory by devoting his attention

exclusively to the improvement of his children: for this purpose he had

sent to England for a governess qualified to undertake the education of

his daughters, and he had the good fortune to obtain a lady eminently

fitted for the trust. She arrived a few days only before the young Artist,

and her natural discernment enabled her to appreciate that original bias

of mind which she had heard ascribed to him, and of which she soon

perceived the determination and the strength. Finding him unacquainted

with any other books than the Bible, and the works of Richardson and

Fresnoy, she frequently invited him to sit with her pupils, and, during

the intervals of their tasks, she read to him the most striking and

picturesque passages from translations of the antient historians and

poetry, of which Mr. Flower had a choice and extensive collection. It was

from this intelligent woman that he heard, for the first time, of the

Greeks and Romans; and the impression which the story of those illustrious

nations made on his mind, was answerable to her expectations.

Among the acquaintance of Mr. Flower was a Mr. Ross, a lawyer in the town

of Lancaster, a place at that time remarkable for its wealth, and which

had the reputation of possessing the best and most intelligent society to

be then found in America. It was chiefly inhabited by Germans, who of all

people in the practice of emigrating, carry along with them the greatest

stock of knowledge and accomplishments. The society of Lancaster,

therefore, though it could not boast of any very distinguished character,

yet comprehended many individuals who were capable of appreciating the

merit of essays in art, and of discriminating the rude efforts of real

genius from the more complete productions of mere mechanical skill. It was

exactly in such a place that such a youth as Benjamin West was likely to

meet with that flattering attention which is the best stimulus of juvenile

talent. The wife of Mr. Ross was greatly admired for her beauty, and she

had several children who were so remarkable in this respect as to be

objects of general notice. One day when Mr. Flower was dining with them,

he advised his friend to have their portraits taken; and mentioned that

they would be excellent subjects for young West. Application was in

consequence made to old Mr. West, and permission obtained for the little

Artist to go to Lancaster for the purpose of taking the likenesses of Mrs.

Ross and her family. Such was the success with which he executed this

task, that the sphere of his celebrity was greatly enlarged; and so

numerous were the applications for portraits, that it was with difficulty

he could find time to satisfy the demands of his admirers.

Among those who sent to him in this early stage of his career, was a

person of the name of William Henry. He was an able mechanic, and had

acquired a handsome fortune by his profession of a gunsmith. Henry was,

indeed, in several respects, an extraordinary man, and possessed the power

generally attendant upon genius under all circumstances, that of

interesting the imagination of those with whom he conversed. On examining

the young Artist's performance, he observed to him, that, if he could

paint as well, he would not waste his time on portraits, but would devote

himself to historical subjects; and he mentioned the Death of Socrates as

affording one of the best topics for illustrating the moral effect of the

art of painting. The Painter knew nothing of the history of the

Philosopher; and, upon confessing his ignorance, Mr. Henry went to his

library, and, taking down a volume of the English translation of Plutarch,

read to him the account given by that writer of this affecting story.

The suggestion and description wrought upon the imagination of West, and

induced him to make a drawing, which he shewed to Mr. Henry, who commended

it as a perspicuous delineation of the probable circumstances of the

event, and requested him to paint it. West said that he would be happy to

undertake the task, but, having hitherto painted only faces and men

cloathed, he should be unable to do justice to the figure of the slave who

presented the poison, and which he thought ought to be naked. Henry had

among his workmen a very handsome young man, and, without waiting to

answer the objection, he sent for him into the room. On his entrance he

pointed him out to West, and said, "There is your model." The appearance

of the young man, whose arms and breast were naked, instantaneously

convinced the Artist that he had only to look into nature for the models

which would impart grace and energy to his delineation of forms.

When the death of Socrates was finished, it attracted much attention, and

led to one of those fortunate acquaintances by which the subsequent career

of the Artist has been so happily facilitated. About this period the

inhabitants of Lancaster had resolved to erect a public grammar-school;

and Dr. Smith, the Provost of the College at Philadelphia, was invited by

them to arrange the course of instruction, and to place the institution in

the way best calculated to answer the intention of the founders. This

gentleman was an excellent classical scholar, and combined with his

knowledge and admiration of the merits of the antients that liberality of

respect for the endeavours of modern talent, with which the same kind of

feeling is but rarely found connected. After seeing the picture and

conversing with the Artist, he offered to undertake to make him to a

certain degree acquainted with classical literature; while at the same

time he would give him such a sketch of the taste and character of the

spirit of antiquity, as would have all the effect of the regular education

requisite to a painter. When this liberal proposal was communicated to old

Mr. West, he readily agreed that Benjamin should go for some time to

Philadelphia, in order to take advantage of the Provost's instructions;

and accordingly, after returning home for a few days, Benjamin went to the

capital, and resided at the house of Mr. Clarkson, his brother-in-law, a

gentleman who had been educated at Leyden, and was much respected for the

intelligence of his conversation, and the propriety of his manners.

Provost Smith introduced West, among other persons, to four young men,

pupils of his own, whom he particularly recommended to his acquaintance,

as possessing endowments of mind greatly superior to the common standard

of mankind. One of these was Francis Hopkins, who afterwards highly

distinguished himself in the early proceedings of the Congress of the

United States. Thomas Godfrey, the second, died after having given the

most promising indications of an elegant genius for pathetic and

descriptive poetry. He was an apprentice to a watchmaker, and had secretly

written a poem, which he published anonymously in the Philadelphia

newspaper, under the title of "The Temple of Fame." The attention which it

attracted, and the encomiums which the Provost in particular bestowed on

it, induced West, who was in the Poet's confidence, to mention to him who

was the author. The information excited the alert benevolence of Smith's

character, and he lost no time until he had procured the release of

Godfrey from his indenture, and a respectable employment for him in the

government of the state; but this he did not live long to enjoy: being

sent on some public business to Carolina, he fell a victim to the climate.

It is pleasant to redeem from oblivion the memory of early talent thus

prematurely withdrawn from the world. Many of Godfrey's verses were

composed under a clump of pines which grew near the upper ferry of the

river Schuylkill, to which spot he sometimes accompanied West and their

mutual friends to angle. In the heat of the day he used to stretch himself

beneath the shade of the trees, and repeat to them his verses as he

composed them. Reid was the name of the other young man, and the same

person who first opposed the British troops in their passing through

Jersey, when the rebellion of the Provinces commenced. Previous to the

revolution, he was bred to the bar, and practised with distinction in the

courts of Philadelphia. He was afterwards elected a Member of Congress,

and is the same person who was appointed to meet Lord Carlisle on his

mission from the British Court.

Provost Smith was himself possessed of a fluent vein of powerful

eloquence, and it happened that many of his pupils who distinguished

themselves in the great struggle of their country, appeared to have

imbibed his talent; but none of them more than Jacob Duchey, another of

the four youths whom he recommended to the Artist. He became a Clergyman,

and was celebrated throughout the whole of the British Provinces in

America as a most pathetic and persuasive preacher. The publicity of his

character in the world was, however, chiefly owing to a letter which he

addressed to General Washington, soon after the appointment of that chief

to the command of the army. The purport of this letter was to persuade the

General to go over to the British cause. It was carried to him by a Mrs.

Ferguson, a daughter of Doctor Graham, a Scottish Physician in

Philadelphia. Washington, with his army, at that time lay at Valley-forge,

and this lady, on the pretext of paying him a visit, as they were

previously acquainted, went to the camp. The General received her in his

tent with much respect, for he greatly admired the masculine vigour of her

mind. When she had delivered the letter he read it attentively, and,

rising from his seat, walked backwards and forwards upwards of an hour,

without speaking. He appeared to be much agitated during the greatest part

of the time; but at length, having decided with himself, he stopped, and

addressed her in nearly the following words: "Madam, I have always

esteemed your character and endowments, and I am fully sensible of the

noble principles by which you are actuated on this occasion; nor has any

man in the whole continent more confidence in the integrity of his friend,

than I have in the honour of Mr. Duchey. But I am here entrusted by the

people of America with sovereign authority. They have placed their lives

and fortunes at my disposal, because they believe me to be an honest man.

Were I, therefore, to desert their cause, and consign them again to the

British, what would be the consequence? to myself perpetual infamy; and to

them endless calamity. The seeds of everlasting division are sown between

the two countries; and, were the British again to become our masters, they

would have to maintain their dominion by force, and would, after all,

retain us in subjection only so long as they could hold their bayonets to

our breasts. No, Madam, the proposal of Mr. Duchey, though conceived with

the best intention, is not framed in wisdom. America and England must be

separate states; but they may have common interests, for they are but one

people. It will, therefore, be the object of my life and ambition to

establish the independence of America in the first place; and in the

second, to arrange such a community of interests between the two nations

as shall indemnify them for the calamities which they now suffer, and form

a new æra in the history of nations. But, Madam, you are aware that I

have many enemies; Congress may hear of your visit, and of this letter,

and I should be suspected were I to conceal it from them. I respect you

truly, as I have said; and I esteem the probity and motives of Mr. Duchey,

and therefore you are free to depart from the camp, but the letter will be

transmitted without delay to Congress."

Mrs. Ferguson herself communicated the circumstances of this interesting

transaction to Mr. West, after she came to England; for she, as well as

Mr. Duchey, were obliged to quit the country. It is painful to add, that

Duchey came to England, and was allowed to pine unnoticed by the

Government, and was heard of no more.

Chap. III.

The course of instruction adopted by Provost Smith.--The Artist led to

the discovery of the Camera.--His Father becomes anxious to place him

in business.--Extraordinary proceedings of the Quakers in

consequence.--The Speech of Williamson the Preacher in defence of the

Fine Arts.--Magnanimous Resolution of the Quakers,--Reflections on

this singular transaction.

There was something so judicious in the plan of study which Provost

Smith had formed for his pupil, that it deserves to be particularly

considered. He regarded him as destined to be a Painter; and on this

account did not impose upon him those grammatical exercises of language

which are usually required from the young student of the classics, but

directed his attention to those incidents which were likely to interest

his fancy, and to furnish him at some future time with subjects for the

easel. He carried him immediately to those passages of antient history

which make the most lasting impression on the imagination of the

regular-bred scholar, and described the picturesque circumstances of the

transactions with a minuteness of detail that would have been

superfluous to a general student.

In the midst of this course of education the Artist happened to be taken

ill of a slight fever, and when it had subsided, he was in so weak a state

as to be obliged to keep his bed, and to have the room darkened. In this

situation he remained several days, with no other light than what was

admitted by the seams and fissures in the window-shutters, which had the

usual effect of expanding the pupil of his eyes to such a degree that he

could distinctly see every object in the room, which to others appeared in

complete obscurity. While he was thus lying in bed, he observed the

apparitional form of a white cow enter at the one side of the roof, and

walking over the bed, gradually vanish at the other. The phenomenon

surprised him exceedingly, and he feared that his mind was impaired by his

disease, which his sister also suspected, when on entering to inquire how

he felt himself, he related to her what he had seen. Without, however,

saying any thing, she went immediately and informed her husband, who

accompanied her back to the apartment; and as they were standing near the

bed, West repeated the story, exclaiming in his discourse that he saw, at

the very moment in which he was then speaking, several little pigs running

along the roof. This confirmed them in the apprehension of his delirium,

and they sent for a physician. But the doctor could discover no symptoms

of fever; the pulse was regular, the skin moist and cool, the thirst was

abated, and indeed every thing about the patient indicated convalescence.

Still the Painter persisted in his story, and assured them that he then

saw the figures of several of their mutual friends passing on the roof,

over the bed; and that he even saw fowls pecking, and the very stones of

the street. All this seemed to them very extraordinary, for their eyes,

not accustomed to the gloom of the chamber, could discern nothing; and the

learned physician himself, in despite of the symptoms, began to suspect

that the convalescent was really delirious. Prescribing, therefore, a

composing mixture, which the Painter submitted to swallow, he took his

fee and leave, requesting Mrs. Clarkson and her husband to come away and

not disturb the patient. After they had retired, curiosity overcame the

influence of the drug, and the Artist got up, determined to find out the

cause of the strange apparitions which had so alarmed them all. In a short

time he discovered a diagonal knot-hole in one of the window-shutters, and

upon placing his hand over it, the visionary paintings on the roof

disappeared. This confirmed him in an opinion that he began to form, that

there must be some simple natural cause for what he had seen; and, having

thus ascertained the way in which it acted, he called his sister and her

husband into the room and explained it to them. When able to go down

stairs, Mr. Clarkson gave him permission to perforate one of the parlour

window-shutters horizontally, in order to obtain a representation on the

wall of the buildings of the opposite side of the street. The effect was

as he expected, but, to his astonishment, the objects appeared inverted.

Without attempting to remedy this with the aid of glasses, as a

mathematical genius would perhaps have done, he was delighted to see in it

the means of studying the pictural appearance of Nature, and he hailed

the discovery as a revelation to promote his improvement in the art of

painting. On his return soon after to his father's, he had a box made with

one of the sides perforated; and, adverting to the reflective power of the

mirror, he contrived, without ever having heard of the instrument, to

invent the _Camera_. Thus furnishing another proof, that although the

faculty which enables a man to excel in any particular art or science is a

natural endowment, it is seldom unaccompanied with a general superiority

of observation. It will, however, not be disputed, that a boy under

sixteen, who had thus, by the guidance of his own unassisted judgment,

found out a method of ascertaining the colour and outline of natural

objects as they should appear in painting, possessed no ordinary mind.

Observations of this nature mark the difference between innate talent and

instructed habits; and, whether in painting, or in poetry, in art, or in

science, constitute the source of that peculiarity of intellect which is

discriminated from the effects of education by the name of original

talent. The self-educated man of genius, when his mind is formed, differs

but little in the method of expressing his notions, from the most

mechanical disciple of the schools; but the process by which he attains

that result, renders his history interesting by its incidents, and

valuable by the hints which it furnishes for the study of human character.

It is, perhaps, also, one great cause of his own distinguishing features

of mind, as the very contrivances to which he has recourse have the effect

of taking, as it were, something extraneous into the matter of his

experiments which tinges the product with curious and singular

effects.--West, on afterwards mentioning his discovery to Williams the

painter, was surprised to find himself anticipated, that Artist having

received a complete Camera some time before from England.

In this favourable state of things he attained his sixteenth year, when

his father became anxious to see him settled in some established business.

For, though reluctant to thwart the bias of a genius at once so decided

and original, and to which the injunction of Peckover had rendered him

favourable and indulgent, the old gentleman was sensible that the

profession of a painter was not only precarious, but regarded by the

religious association to which he belonged, as adverse to their tenets, by

being only ornamental; and he was anxious, on his son's account and on his

own, to avoid those animadversions to which he was exposed by the freedom

he had hitherto granted to the predilections of Benjamin. He, therefore,

consulted several of his neighbours on the subject; and a meeting of the

Society of Friends in the vicinity was called, to consider, publicly, what

ought to be the destiny of his son.

The assembly met in the Meeting-house near Springfield, and after much

debate, approaching to altercation, a man of the name of John Williamson

rose, and delivered a very extraordinary speech upon the subject. He was

much respected by all present, for the purity and integrity of his life,

and enjoyed great influence in his sphere on account of the superiority

of his natural wisdom, and, as a public preacher among the Friends,

possessed an astonishing gift of convincing eloquence. He pointed to old

Mr. West and his wife, and expatiated on the blameless reputation which

they had so long maintained, and merited so well. "They have had," said

he, "ten children, whom they have carefully brought 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 on the youth a genius for the 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 some high and beneficent end."

The effect of this argument, and the lofty commanding manner in which it

was delivered, induced the assembly to agree that the Artist should be

allowed to indulge the predilections of his genius; and a private

meeting of the Friends was appointed to be holden at his father's house,

at which the youth himself was requested to be present, in order to

receive, in form, the assent and blessing of the Society. On the day of

meeting, the great room was put in order, and a numerous company of both

sexes assembled. Benjamin was placed by his father, and the men and

women took their respective forms on each side. After sitting some time

in silence, one of the women rose and addressed the meeting on the

wisdom of God, and the various occasions on which He selected from among

His creatures the agents of His goodness. When she had concluded her

exhortation, John Williamson also rose, and in a speech than which,

perhaps, the porticos of Athens never resounded with a more impressive

oratory, he resumed the topic which had been the subject of his former

address. He began by observing that it was fixed as one of their

indisputable maxims, that things merely ornamental were not necessary to

the well-being of man, and that all superfluous things should be

excluded from the usages and manners of their society. "In this

proscription, we have included," said he, "the study of the fine arts,

for we see them applied only to embellish pleasures, and to strengthen

our inducements to gratify the senses at the expense of our immortal

claims. But, because we have seen painting put to this derogatory use,

and have, in consequence, prohibited the cultivation of it among us, are

we sure that it is not one of those gracious gifts which God has

bestowed on the world, not to add to the sensual pleasures of man, but

to facilitate his improvement as a social and a moral being? The fine

arts are called the offspring and the emblems of peace. The Christian

religion itself is the doctrine of good will to man. Can those things

which only prosper in peace be contrary to the Christian religion? But,

it is said, that the fine arts soften and emasculate the mind. In what

way? is it by withdrawing those who study them from the robust exercises

which enable nations and people to make war with success? Is it by

lessening the disposition of mankind to destroy one another, and by

taming the audacity of their animal fierceness? Is it for such a reason

as this, that we who profess to live in unison and friendship, not only

among ourselves, but with all the world that we should object to the

cultivation of the fine arts, of those arts which disarm the natural

ferocity of man? We may as well be told that the doctrine of peace and

life ought to be proscribed in the world because it is pernicious to the

practice of war and slaughter, as that the arts which call on man to

exercise his intellectual powers more than his physical strength, can be

contrary to Christianity, and adverse to the benevolence of the Deity. I

speak not, however, of the fine arts as the means of amusement, nor the

study of them as pastime to fill up the vacant hours of business, though

even as such, the taste for them deserves to be regarded as a

manifestation of Divine favour, in as much as they dispose the heart to

kind and gentle inclinations. For, I think them ordained by God for some

great and holy purpose. Do we not know that the professors of the fine

arts are commonly men greatly distinguished by special gifts of a

creative and discerning spirit? If there be any thing in the usual

course of human affairs which exhibits the immediate interposition of

the Deity, it is in the progress of the fine arts, in which it would

appear he often raises up those great characters, the spirit of whose

imaginations have an interminable influence on posterity, and who are

themselves separated and elevated among the generality of mankind, by

the name of men of genius. Can we believe that all this is not for some

useful purpose? What that purpose is, ought we to pretend to

investigate? Let us rather reflect that the Almighty God has been

pleased among us, and in this remote wilderness, to endow, with the rich

gifts of a peculiar spirit, that youth who has now our common consent to

cultivate his talents for an art, which, according to our humble and

human judgment, was previously thought an unnecessary ministration to

the sensual propensities of our nature. May it be demonstrated by the

life and works of the Artist, that the gift of God has not been bestowed

on him in vain, nor the motives of the beneficent inspiration which

induces us to suspend our particular tenets, prove barren of religious

or moral effect. On the contrary, let us confidently hope that this

occurrence has been for good, and that the consequences which may arise

in the society of this new world, from the example which Benjamin West

will be enabled to give, will be such a love of the arts of peace as

shall tend to draw the ties of affection closer, and diffuse over a

wider extent of community the interests and blessing of fraternal love."

At the conclusion of this address, the women rose and kissed the young

Artist, and the men, one by one, laid their hands on his head and prayed

that the Lord might verify in his life the value of the gift which had

induced them, in despite of their religious tenets, to allow him to

cultivate the faculties of his genius.

The history of no other individual affords an incident so extraordinary.

This could not be called a presentiment, but the result of a clear

expectation, that some important consequence would ensue. It may be added

that a more beautiful instance of liberality is not to be found in the

records of any religious society. Hitherto, all sects, even of Christians,

were disposed to regard, with jealousy and hatred, all those members who

embraced any pursuit that might tend to alienate them from their

particular modes of discipline. The Quakers have, therefore, the honour of

having been the first to allow, by a public act, that their conception of

the religious duties of man was liable to the errors of the human

judgment, and was not to be maintained on the presumption of being

actually according to the will of God. There is something at once simple

and venerable in the humility with which they regarded their own peculiar

principles, especially contrasted with the sublime view they appeared to

take of the wisdom and providence of the Deity. But, with whatever

delightful feelings strangers and posterity may contemplate this beautiful

example of Christian magnanimity, it would be impossible to convey any

idea of the sentiments with which it affected the youth who was the object

of its exercise. He must have been less than man had he not endeavoured,

without ceasing, to attain an honourable eminence in his profession; or,

had he forgotten, in the honours which he has since received from all

polished nations, that he was authorized by his friends and his religion,

to cultivate the art by which he obtained such distinctions, not for his

own sake, but as an instrument chosen by Providence to disseminate the

arts of peace in the world.