ians by the
people of the mother country, it was no slight achievement for an
American artist to rise by the force of his genius to the proud position
of President of the Royal Academy of Great Britain.

The man who won this triumph was BENJAMIN WEST. He was born in
Springfield, Pennsylvania, on the 10th of October, 1738. His parents
were Quakers, plain, simple people, who feared God, lived a just life,
and desired above all other things that their children should become
pious and useful men and women. The old mansion-house where the future
artist was born was situated in Chester County, and is still standing.
It is not far from Philadelphia, and the place is now called Westdale.
His father's family emigrated from England to America with William Penn,
at his second visit, in 1699. John West married the daughter of Thomas
Pearson, by whom he had ten children. Of these, Benjamin was the
youngest son. His mother was a woman of great piety, and, being once in
attendance upon a memorable religious revival, at which she was terribly
agitated by the preaching of one Edward Peckover, an itinerant Quaker
minister, was taken with premature labor, of which Benjamin West was
born.

It was predicted that a child who had been brought into the world under
such circumstances would be a man of more than ordinary fame, and the
good mother treasured these prophecies in her heart, and watched the
career of her boy with the keenest interest.

When he was but seven years old, he was left one day to watch beside the
cradle of the infant child of his eldest sister, who, though married,
was still living at home. Being unusually silent for a long time, his
mother concluded that she would go and see what he was doing. Upon
entering the room where he had been left with his charge, she saw him
kneeling by a chair which he had placed close up to the cradle, gazing
at the infant, and making what she supposed to be marks on a paper which
lay on the chair. Stealing up behind him softly, she saw to her
astonishment that this boy, only seven years old, had executed, with
black and red ink and a pen, an accurate though rude likeness of the
sleeping babe. This was the first evidence he had ever given of his
predilection for art, and was indeed a most surprising performance for
so young a child.

[Illustration: THE TRUANT'S SECRET DISCOVERED.]

The next summer a party of Indians came to Springfield to pay their
annual visit, and to please them little