The Zoologist — June, 1873. 3571 



never exhibited cattle so perfect. Hefner, a Belgian painter, has 

 succeeded equally well in the International, but he and Rosa Bon- 

 heur are the only exhibitors Mr. Davis has to fear: until this 

 "Summer Evening" was exhibited Paul Potter's Bull was the 

 perfection of quiet unobtrusive power, but Mr. Davis need not 

 shrink from comparison even with that chef d'osuvre. His second 

 picture, Twilight (No. 950), will scarcely prove so attractive as 

 Summer Afternoon ; it has, however, great merit, although not of 

 so striking a character. 



Argus (No. 464), by Mr. Ritieee, is a touching picture. Like 

 everything the artist has exhibited, it shows a vast amount of know- 

 ledge and of reflection. I may remark it is impossible not to detect 

 a family likeness between the Daniel of last year and the Ulysses 

 of this: probably the same model served the painter for both, but 

 certainly the same feeling prevails in both the beggar king and the 

 unjustly condemned prophet; they exhibit a wonderful similarity : 

 in the beasts there is nothing of this ; the poor staghound, con- 

 quered by age and neglect, is the embodiment of an inspiration 

 entirely different from that which produced the lions cowering 

 under an Almighty influence they neither see nor understand. 

 The story of Ulysses and his dog Argus does not seem so familiar 

 to the general public as that of Daniel in the lion's den, or indeed 

 as I should have supposed it would be among the educated : I can 

 only judge by the comments of the visitors to the exhibition, not 

 one of whom during the half-hour I was before the picture seemed 

 acquainted with the story. Such observations as these recurred 

 perpetually, " Who was Argus ?" " What did he do ?" " His dog 

 seems half-starved;" " I wonder he does not fly at the beggar man;" 

 "What an old worn-out hound it is;" "He looks a hundred;" 

 and so forth. Excepting the general mistake of supposing that 

 Argus was the name of the man, I think I heard not a single 

 remark but testified to the painter's skill in conveying what he 

 wished to convey. The readers of the ' Zoologist' will not need to 

 be informed that Argus was a dog and not a man, yet I feel sure 

 they will pardon me for quoting the following explanatory passage 

 from the matchless poet who created both dog and man. 



" Thus near the gates conferring as they drew, 

 Argus the dog, his ancient master knew ; 

 He not unconscious of the voice and tread, 

 Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head. 



