ANIMAL-LIFE AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY. 237 
Mr. J. S. Noble, whose name is well known as a painter of 
dogs, has a good picture (152) entitled ‘“‘ Freedom and Imprison- 
ment,” in which a pack of hounds in kennel are represented as 
suddenly aroused by the passing of the huntsman with another 
pack en route for the cover-side. The eager impatience of the 
prisoners, as they pace the flags, leap against the bars, sniff at 
the closed door, or give vent to their feelings by loud baying, 
is capitally depicted. The colour is good, and the attitudes very 
life-like. In the case of one hound only does the drawing appear 
a little faulty—namely, the hound of which a stern view is 
given, where the hind legs, by being thrown too far under him, 
indicate a want of power in the quarters. Exception must also 
be taken to the coats of the hounds, which are too silky and 
delicate. The coat of a foxhound is more wiry. 
It is curious how many blunders are-made in hunting-pictures. 
One would suppose that an artist, if not a hunting-man himself, 
would have no difficulty in finding amongst his acquaintances some 
_ one with a knowledge of the sport and its details, to whom his 
picture might be submitted for criticism before being sent to Bur- 
lington House. But such a course, apparently, is seldom adopted. 
A very general fault is to depict “a kill” with horses as clean as if 
they had just come out of the yard; hounds ditto; and the dead 
fox smooth, sleek, and scatheless! We look in vain for the 
dilated nostrils, steaming flanks, and mud-bespattered hocks and 
feet of the hunter; for the open-mouth, blood-stained jaws and 
lolling tongue of the hound, with a trickle, too, of blood on his 
lashing stern, betokening close contact with gorse and briar; and 
for the draggled and blood-stained fur of the “ varmint.” 
_A case in point is furnished by No. 413, “The Death: recol- 
lection of a kill with the Pytchley Hounds,” concerning which we 
can well imagine some such conversation as the following taking 
place :-— 
Spectator. ‘ You see, they have just killed their fox, and—” 
Hunting-man. “Not they. They never killed that fox, 
I warrant you. Much too clean. Must have been ‘a bagman’ 
which they meant to have killed, but which died in the sack on 
the way to cover! Of course the horses and hounds are nice 
and clean, because they have been disappointed of a run!” 
A more meritorious picture, because truer to nature, is 
Mr. Hopkins’s ‘“‘ Forrard away” (1393), in which a youthful whip 
