THE CAT IN ART 113 



hounds. If we want to see cats, — splendid, pam- 

 pered, luxurious, quarrelsome cats, — we must look 

 for them in the great glowing canvases of Vero- 

 nese ; in those sumptuous scenes where noble Vene- 

 tians feast opulently, and which are christened — 

 out of courteous deference to the demands of the 

 Church — the "Marriage at Cana," the "Last 

 Supper," or " Christ in the house of Simon the 

 Pharisee." It is true that the Church, ungrateful 

 for an attention so manifestly insincere, protested 

 from time to time against the purely mundane 

 character of these pictures ; but Venice loved her 

 painter too well to suffer him to be unduly harassed. 

 He might receive grave warnings, gently spoken. 

 He might be officially bidden to blot out the offend- 

 ing jesters, dwarfs, and monkeys. But the Republic, 

 albeit deeply and passionately religious from her 

 birth, — when she turned brigand, it was to steal 

 the relics of a saint, — refused to be scandalized by 

 Veronese's art. Nothing was blotted out, not even 

 the cats ; and so we see them to-day curled around 

 the water jars on the floor, and paddling away vig- 

 orously with their soft hind paws ; or tranquilly 

 devouring some chance bone under shadow of the 

 table ; or spitting at the handsome, spiritless dogs ; 

 or blinking and purring in the arms of negro attend- 

 ants. They are carelessly painted, all of them. It 

 evidently never occurred to the master to make an 



