THE CAT IN ART 119 



a little mad because he painted nothing but cats, 

 and would endure no other companionship. All 

 day he sat in his shabby garret, sufficiently occu- 

 pied by his work, sufficiently amused by his models. 

 Kittens perched on his shoulders, and frolicked 

 gayly among his few possessions. Their mothers 

 purred a murmurous accompaniment, and smiled on 

 him with indulgent contempt. For absolute vera- 

 city, his feline portraits have never been surpassed. 

 Mme. Lebrun, who deeply admired his genius, and 

 who purchased many of his finest works, gave him 

 the infelicitous title, " Raphael of Cats ; " and the 

 genuine stupidity of the expression fixed it natu- 

 rally and inevitably in all men's memories. To this 

 day no one ever dreams of alluding to Mind in any 

 other words. His attachment to his furry friends 

 was as ardent and unchanging as was his aversion 

 to intrusive mortals. The sorrow of his life was 

 the massacre of cats in 1809, an epidemic having 

 broken out that year among the pussies of Berne 

 which necessitated this drastic measure. Eight 

 hundred perished at the hands of the police ; and 

 though Mind contrived to save most of his own 

 pets, yet the thought of those eight hundred inno- 

 cents troubled his poor heart until he died. 



Eastern artists, the Chinese and Japanese more 

 especially, have devoted their skill for centuries to 

 painting the cat, lavishing upon this congenial sub- 



