The destiny he desired was fixed. In 1760 he left Philadelphia for Rome, pursued his studies in the capital of art, visited the galleries and collections of Italy with an ardour that impaired his health, came through France to London, and was about to return to America, when sir Joshua Reynolds, and Wilson, the landscape painter, used their utmost persuasions to detain him in this country. There was only one obstacle; he had formed an attachment on his native soil: Wheree’er he turn’d, whatever realms to see, His heart, untravell’d, fondly turn’d to her whom he loved. This difficulty was overcome, for the lady, Miss Shewell, came over; they were married in London, in 1764. Thus “settled,” in the following year Mr. West was chosen a member and one of the directors of the Society of Artists, afterwards incorporated with the Royal Academy, which he assisted in forming, and over which he afterwards presided till his death. As an artist his works in the various collections and edifices throughout England exhibit his talents, but above all “West’s Gallery,” now open in Newman-street for public inspection, is an assemblage of testimonials to the justice of his fame among his adopted countrymen. His talent germinated on the shores of the Atlantic, but with us it flourished. America at that period was not sufficiently advanced to cultivate his genius: now that she has risen in commerce and the arts, and taken her stand among the nations, she will retain her future Wests to adorn her greatness. May the people of England and America contend with each other no more but in works of peace and good will; and may the interchange of talented individuals from each, contribute to the prosperity and moral grandeur of both countries!