The consequence of this almost childish carelessness was that
Gibson had always to be accompanied on his long journeys either by
a friend or a courier. While Mr. Ben lived, he usually took his
brother in charge to some extent; and the relation between them was
mutual, for while John Gibson found the sculpture, Mr. Ben found
the learning, so that Gibson used often to call him "my classical
dictionary." In 1847, however, Mr. Ben was taken ill. He got a
bad cold, and would have no doctor, take no medicine. "I consider
Mr. Ben," his brother writes, "as one of the most amiable of human
beings--too good for this world--but he will take no care against
colds, and when ill he is a stubborn animal." That summer Gibson
went again to England, and when, he came back found Mr. Ben no
better. For four years the younger brother lingered on, and in
1851 died suddenly from the effects of a fall in walking. Gibson
was thus left quite alone, but for his pupil Miss Hosmer, who
became to him more than a daughter.

During his later years Gibson took largely to tinting his statues--
colouring them faintly with flesh-tones and other hues like nature;
and this practice he advocated with all the strength of his single-
minded nature. All visitors to the great Exhibition of 1862 will
remember his beautiful tinted Venus, which occupied the place of
honour in a light temple erected for the purpose by another
distinguished artistic Welshman, Mr. Owen Jones, who did much
towards raising the standard of taste in the English people.

In January, 1866, John Gibson had a stroke of paralysis, from which
he never recovered. He died within the month, and was buried in
the English cemetery at Rome. Both his brothers had died before