money to any charitable institution, or dispose of it in any manner he should direct, but that the money must be paid. The doughty official, convinced that the virtue of his article would force it into the Review at all events, stood firm to his refusal. Greatly to his dismay, the article was returned. He revenged himself by never sending another. Gifford maintained that the author's indignation was occasioned by the alterations he had made in the manuscript."

In addition to his various duties on the Review, he found time to prepare for the press several valuable editions of the old English dramatists, accompanying the letter-press with extensive notes and commentaries, and generally finding an opportunity to demolish some preceding editor. The popularity of his name made these editions salable, and led to a favorable pecuniary result. His circumstances were now highly prosperous. He enjoyed a pension of four hundred pounds a year from his former pupil, now Lord Grosvenor; was appointed to two sinecure offices under the government, bringing in about nine hundred pounds per annum; and his income from the Review, which, commencing at two hundred pounds a year, speedily rose to nine hundred. Being of economical habits, it is not surprising that he succeeded in accumulating a fortune of nearly twenty-five thousand pounds. In 1824 Gifford resigned the editorship of the Review; he would have done so at an earlier period if a proper successor could have been found. Infirmities had come heavily upon him; the sight of one eye was gone, and for many years he had been so oppressed by asthma as often to be deprived of the power of speech. Soon after relinquishing the editorship, a friend expressed a hope that he might recover and live several years; to which he replied, "Oh no; it has pleased God to grant me a much longer life than I had reason to expect, and I am thankful for it; but two years more is its utmost duration." His words were prophetic; only two years elapsed before he ceased to exist. During the latter months of his life his debility was so extreme that he was incapable of the slightest exertion. He expired calmly and without a struggle on the 31st of December, 1826. He was interred in Westminster Abbey. The bulk of his property he bequeathed to the Reverend Mr. Cookesley, the son of his early benefactor.

As a satirist, critic, and politician, Gifford was severe and un

sparing, and belonging, as he did, to a party tenacious of power, had frequent occasions to indulge in the harshest comments; but in private life he was quiet, retiring, and amiable; he never forgot a kindness, and was an unalterable friend. In personal appearance he was remarkable, especially toward the close of his career, when, having lost an eye, a double intensity appeared to be imparted to the remaining one. He was short in stature; his hair of a remarkably handsome brown color, and as glossy and full at the time of his death as at any previous period. His head was of a very singular shape, being by no means high, if measured from the chin to the crown, but of unusual horizontal length from the forehead to the back of the head. His forehead projected at right angles from his face in a very remarkable manner. In his habits he was secluded and studious; not parsimonious, but economical, and disposed to lay one dollar on another.

BENJAMIN WEST, the earliest and most renowned of American painters, and an artist whose works command the attention of the world, was a native of Pennsylvania, and born in Chester County, near Springfield, in that state, on the 10th of October, 1738. His family were Quakers, and emigrated from England to America in 1699. Benjamin's father remained in England to be educated, and did not join his family until he had reached his fifteenth year.

At a very early age Benjamin gave evidence of art gifts. It is related that, in the month of June, 1745, when only seven years of age, he was left to take care of his little niece, who lay peacefully slumbering in a cradle by his side. The boy-artist sat watching her. Presently the baby smiled in its innocent sleep, and the supreme beauty of its arch tranquillity filled young Benjamin's breast with admiration. To give this expression, he seized a pen, and with red and black ink endeavored to transfer the beautiful picture to paper. When his mother returned she was surprised and delighted at the attempt, and, with the keen

eye of affection, detected a portrait of the sleeping infant. At this time it is said that West had never seen a picture or an engraving, and most assuredly had never beheld any one attempting to copy the lineaments of nature. The latter part of the anecdote is probably reliable, but the first allegation may well be questioned. Soon after this occurrence Benjamin was sent to school. Pen and ink still constituted the objects of his amusement, and we may suppose that his school-books presented a highly pictorial appearance. From the Indians he learned the use of the red and yellow colors with which they painted their belts and ornaments, but before this epoch in his artist career he depended on the most sombre effects. The colors he used were principally charcoal and chalk, mixed with the juice of berries. With these colors, laid

on with the hair of a cat, drawn through a goose-quill, when about nine years of age he drew on a sheet of paper the-portraits of a neighboring family, in which the delineation of each individual was sufficiently accurate to be immediately recognized by his father when the picture was first shown to him. When about twelve years of age he performed a more difficult task, and drew a portrait of himself, with his hair hanging loosely about his shoulders. The knowledge which he had gained from the Indians extended his field of operations, and when he had obtained possession of a bit of indigo, which he coaxed out of his mother, he had the three primary colors to work with.

The atmosphere of a Quaker house is not very congenial to the development of art, but West's parents appear to have been liberalminded, and worthily proud of their son. His little productions adorned their dwelling, and attracted the attention of their visitors. In this way the father of General Wayne became acquainted with the talents of the lad. He was so much pleased with the rough sketches he saw around him, that he asked the privilege of taking some of them home. The next day he saw young West, and presented him with six dollars-a magnificent sum to his fervid imagination. It was to this early reward that he attributed his subsequent artist career. Mr. Wayne was not the only admirer that the youthful artist possessed. A Mr. Pennington, of Philadelphia, who was related to the West family, paid a visit one day, and was astonished to find the apartments of the Quaker hung with drawings of birds and flowers, executed with native but untutored genius. To encourage the youth, he pre

sented him with a box of colors and pencils. To these were added several pieces of canvas prepared for the easel, and six engravings by Greveling. Such a mine of treasure was beyond price to the young man. He could not sleep for thinking of it, and night and day nursed the gift with the most extreme fondness. Shortly after this he went on a visit to Philadelphia, and for the first time beheld the impressive spectacle of a noble stream teeming with magnificent shipping. It made a deep impression on his young imagination, and was the immediate cause of his first composition, a picturesque view of a river, with vessels floating on the surface, and cattle pasturing on its banks. Among the other wonders which he saw in the city was a picture by Williams, of Philadelphia, which astonished and delighted him. The perusal of the works of Fresnoy and Richardson did the rest. His future destiny was fixed in his own mind-he would become an artist.

Returning to Springfield with the reputation of a prodigy, he received many commissions to paint portraits, for which, as we have seen, he displayed great natural aptitude. A gunsmith of the name of William Henry, who was of a literary turn, suggested to him that he should engage himself on something more important than portraits, and gave him the subject of "Socrates' Death" as one worthy of illustration. West seized the idea, and produced his first historical picture. It attracted a good deal of attention, and led to the formation of many friendships which were afterward of great use to the young painter. Among these was that formed with Dr. Smith, provost of the college at Philadelphia, who was delighted to observe the efforts of the young artist, and offered to assist him in gaining an education, the want of which he now began to experience. The result led to Benjamin being transferred to the residence of his brother-in-law in Philadelphia.

At the age of sixteen, it was determined among the friends, after long deliberations, that Benjamin should be allowed to cultivate the art of painting. In Philadelphia he was able to pursue his studies with many advantages. He had free access to all the famous pictures of the city, and was, of course, hugely delighted and impressed with what he saw, especially with a Murillo in Governor Hamilton's collection. It was a St. Ignatius, and West copied it enthusiastically, before he even knew its author or appreciated its art value. His application at this time was so great that his health became impaired, and he was for a