164 
ANIMALS IN MOTION. 
painter, representing ten horses, each a replica of the other, 
with limbs extended fore-and-aft, and gliding through the 
air, distinguishable from each other only by the colours 
of their riders. 
Bearing in mind the axiom of Leonardo da Vinci, one 
may well suppose the picture was painted with the same 
object in view as that with which Don Quixote was written. 
“ And yet,” it is sometimes remarked, “ the phase gives 
one an impression of rapid motion.” Possibly, but in pre¬ 
cisely the same way as a printed word unconsciously 
suggests, through long usage, the sound or the substance 
of that which it represents. 
If it is impressed on our minds in infancy that a certain 
arbitrary symbol indicates an existing fact; if this same 
association of emblem and reality is reiterated at the pre¬ 
paratory school, insisted upon at college, and pronounced 
correct at the university; symbol and fact—or supposed fact 
—become so intimately blended that it is extremely diffi¬ 
cult to disassociate them, even when reason and personal 
observation teaches us they have no true relationship. 
So it is with the conventional galloping horse; we 
have become so accustomed to see it in art that it has 
imperceptibly dominated our understanding, and we think 
the representation to be unimpeachable, until we throw all 
our preconceived impressions on one side, and seek the 
truth by independent observation from Nature herself. 
During the past few years the artist has become con¬ 
vinced that this definition of the horse’s gallop does not 
harmonize with his own unbiased impression, and he is 
making rapid progress in his efforts to sweep away 
prejudice, and effect the complete reform that is gradually 
but surely coming. 
A PHASE IN THE GALLOP OF THE HORSE. 
Many art designs, both ancient and modern, represent a 
horse performing some feat of locomotion, with not merely 
that portion of the anterior limb technically called the “fore¬ 
arm,” but even the “elbow,” thrust forward beyond the nose. 
