The Zoologist— June, 1874. 4023 



entirety, is an evidence of our decadence. I wish no one to believe 

 that the chaining of statues four thousand years ago was a measure 

 rendered necessary by their quasi-vitality, but I wish every one to 

 understand that art was then so vastly superior to what it is now 

 as to justify a belief which to our narrower intellects and education 

 appears utterly preposterous. 



I have not the materials, nor have I space here to descant on 

 the partial revival or rennaissance of art in the days of Snyders 

 and Weeninx, Cuyp and Potter; though these and a hundred others 

 have abundant claims to admiration as painters of animals: boars 

 and dogs, peacocks and poultry, horses and cows, — aye, and bulls, 

 too, — were produced with wonderful profusion and success; but 

 their day seems to have passed, and their very names, unless in a 

 few more prominent instances, are forgotten. 



Another long period of obscurity followed, dissipated at last by 

 the appearance of Sir Edwin Landseer : he made a mark early in 

 life, and soon rose to be the unquestioned exponent and teacher of 

 all that was life-like, and natural, and truthful in the representation 

 of animals, and so he remained to the end of his life. Year after 

 year the walls of the Royal Academy were rendered attractive by 

 the work of his brush, and animal painting, until his time contented 

 with a very humble position in art, gradually rose until it assumed 

 unquestioned the highest rank. And now he is gone: time after 

 time, visit after visit, a feeling of sickness and sorrow comes over 

 me as I turn the leaves of the Catalogue or wander over the walls, 

 searching for something that I know is not there. The sun of 

 animal painting has set, and set behind a cloud ; and I cannot 

 shake off the feeling of chill consequent upon the absence of his 

 rays : unconsciously I repeated to myself that hackneyed, but, 

 alas ! inevitable conclusion, " We ne'er shall look upon his like 

 again." Last year he was amongst us, perhaps but as a shadow of 

 his former self, — an echo of that talent which had for so many 

 years spoken trumpet-tongued, — now there is not even the shadow, 

 not even the echo. This feeble tribute to the memory of one who 

 has given me such unmingled, such instructive pleasure, was a debt 

 of gratitude I have long desired to pay. 



The present exhibition is one of surpassing excellence — an 

 excellence due to the very liberal admission of paintings by out- 

 siders : the R. A. is not always an unchallenged order of merit; 



