The close of the Mexican War found the Military Academy the pet and idol of the National Legislature. All of its requirements were solicitously studied and plenty of funds were forthcoming to supply its wants. As time went on, however, and no foe appeared at our door, the usual indifference on the part of some toward military affairs, and the open hostilities of others, were manifested. As before in its history, the Academy became the object of numerous attacks, but it ignored them, continuing unobtrusively the preparation of her cadets for their future work, little realizing how important this work was soon to be. In 1852, Brevet-Colonel R. E. Lee, Corps of Engineers, class of 1829, was appointed Superintendent. Under his administration the course was extended to include five years, embracing more English studies and Military Law. A new riding hall was completed in 1855 which greatly increased the opportunity for cavalry exercises. Colonel Lee, having transferred to the Cavalry arm of the Service, was relieved as Superintendent, April, 1855, because according to law at that time, only Engineer officers could serve as Superintendent. The year before Lee’s administration began, there entered West Point in July, 1851, a cadet, James Abbott McNeill Whistler, aged sixteen years and eleven months, destined to become one of America’s greatest artists. Whistler remained three years at West Point when he was discharged for deficiency in chemistry. In speaking in after years of his experiences with this study, he said, “Had silicon been a gas, I would have been a Major-General.” He was called up for examination in the subject of chemistry, which also covered the studies of mineralogy and geology, and given silicon to discuss. When called upon to recite, he stated: “I am required to discuss the subject of silicon. Silicon is a gas.” “That will do, Mr. Whistler,” said the Professor, and the artist soldier retired quickly to private life. Another story was told of him in an examination in history. “What!” said an officer who was his instructor, “you do not know the date of the Battle of Buena Vista? Suppose you were to go out to dinner and the company began to talk of the Mexican War, and you, a West Point man, were asked the date of the battle. What would you do?” “Do,” said Whistler, “why, I should refuse to associate with people who would talk of such things at dinner.” Although Whistler was not a success in defining silicon or remembering dates, he excelled in drawing, standing at the head of his class. The Professor of Drawing at the time was Robert W. Weir, an artist of no mean ability himself and of generally recognized standing. For Whistler, Professor Weir always had a high esteem on account of the unusual talent he displayed in the drawing classes. Specimens of his work as a cadet are still preserved at West Point. * * * * *