If a universal dog-lover like Landseer could be said to have a preference for any particular kind, it was certainly for the bloodhound. This noble animal is of very ancient origin, known apparently to the Romans, and introduced early in English history into Great Britain. Apparently many gentlemen of Landseer's acquaintance were possessors of fine specimens. One of these we have already seen in the picture of Suspense, where the dog's senses are all in intense concentration. Here, by contrast, the Sleeping Bloodhound is seen in complete relaxation.

We might almost fancy the picture a sequel to Suspense, and carry on our story to another chapter, in which, the knight's wounds being stanched, the door is opened and the dog admitted to his master's presence. Quiet having fallen on the household, the hound retires to a corner for a well-deserved nap. He lies on a fur rug spread in front of an ottoman, beside which stands his master's helmet. His forelegs are stretched out straight before him, his body curled around, his head pushed forward in a position which from a dog's point of view represents solid comfort.

Though asleep he is still on guard; the painter has conveyed the impression of the dog's latent power, even in repose. Like Rab, in Dr. John Brown's famous story, he is "a sort of compressed Hercules of a dog." As he lies at his ease, we note the characteristics of his kind,—the loose skin, the long soft ears, the long thick tail. Of his most striking quality there is no visible evidence, namely, his exquisite sense of smell. It is this which has made him so valuable to man, both as a companion of his sports and a protector of life and property.

In former times when the resources of government were limited, bloodhounds often served in the useful capacity of a detective force. In the border country between England and Scotland, before the union of the kingdoms, these dogs were kept to maintain safety, and to track criminals. In Cuba they were put on the pursuit of outlaws and fugitives from justice. This explains why the dog has sometimes been called a sleuthhound; that is, a dog set upon a sleuth, or trail.

In our own Southern States bloodhounds were once used to recover runaway slaves, as we may read in "Uncle Tom's Cabin." There have been times, too, when the dog's unique gift of scent has enabled him to find lost children and exhausted travellers, and thus be a benefactor to humanity.

Whatever the task set him, whether for good or ignoble ends, the bloodhound has always fulfilled it with unflagging perseverance and devotion. He is a dog to command both fear and admiration, and we count ourselves fortunate if we win his good opinion.

The original of the portrait was Countess, the bloodhound of Mr. Jacob Bell, of whom we have also heard as the owner of the bay mare Betty. The dog had long been waiting for a portrait sitting, but the busy painter seemed to have no time for the work. Finally occurred a strange accident which was the immediate cause of the picture. Poor Countess fell one night from a parapet at Mr. Bell's residence, in some unknown way losing her balance, or missing her footing. The distance was between twenty and thirty feet, and the dog was killed. Mr. Bell immediately took the animal to Landseer's studio, and there in an incredibly short time was produced this portrait.

The story explains why the painter chose the unusual theme of a sleeping dog. Ordinarily he delighted in showing the expressiveness of a dog's eye. This being here impossible on account of the model's condition, we have instead a picture which we would not exchange even for Suspense or Dignity and Impudence. If we have here less of those higher qualities which are brought out in the dog's human relationships, we see the better the purely animal side of his nature.

The union of power with repose is a rare combination in art, and one we associate with Greek sculpture. The picture of the Sleeping Bloodhound has what we call plastic qualities. We have a sense of the massive solidity of the dog's body, as if he were modelled in clay. In this respect the picture should be compared with the Newfoundland dog called the Distinguished Member of the Humane Society, and with the lion of the Nelson monument.

The helmet beside the dog is one of those picturesque accessories which Landseer enjoyed putting into his works. Like the gauntlets in the picture of Suspense, it suggests the knightly deeds of chivalry with which the bloodhound seems appropriately associated. The reflection of light from the polished surface of the metal makes an effective touch in the picture.

It is by no accident that the helmet occupies the place it does; it is an essential part of the composition, serving precisely the same purpose which the cavalier's hat does in the picture of the King Charles Spaniels. Both compositions gain by this device the necessary height to balance their horizontal lines.