“Erant autem et qui pone januam canem pictum haberent, ut apud Petronium Trimalcio. At quid ad hæc pictores nostri qui in triclinio divitis Lazarum delineant? Potestne quidquam ineptius aut cogitari aut fingi? scilicet janitores admisissent hominem scatentem ulceribus, dorso ipsi luituri quidquid oculos nauseabundi domini offendisset. Canes vero immanes illi Villatici et Venatici, num oblectabant cœnantem dominum? Apage! Catelli quidem in delicus tricliniaribus habiti sunt, ut testatur mulier Chananœa apud Mattheum, et indicant sculpturæ antiquorum marmorum: Cæterum. Molossos, et ejus generis reliquos, nemo in convictum, nisi amens aut rusticus recepisset. At quisquis pictorum nostrorum pene omnium pravitatem corrigere voluerit, otium desperaverit omnino: adeo ineruditi sunt, adeo cognitionem omnem antiquitatis turpiter abjecerunt.” GRATIAN.—I suppose the little pets admitted to the table were the small Melitan dogs, such as Lucian speaks of in his “Private Tutor.” The Greek philosopher and teacher was requested by the lady of the house in which he was tutor to take charge of her dear little pet, which, being carried in his arms as he was stuffed into the back carriage with the packages and lady’s maids, disgraced the philosopher by watering his beard. AQUILIUS.—A kind of King Charles’s breed. I remember a gentleman telling me, many years ago, that he was dining in Rome with Cardinal York, and one of these little creatures was handed round after dinner, upon which occasion the cardinal said, “Take care of him, for he and I are the last of the breed.” LYDIA.—Poor creatures! that is a touching anecdote. It ought to be written under Vandyke’s celebrated picture of the unfortunate Charles and his family, in which the breed are so conspicuous. I think my sweet, Pompey is one of them, notwithstanding the cardinal’s protest, and I shall love the little pet the more for the royal familiarity of his race. I must have his portrait. CURATE.—Or his statue, that he may rival Pompey the Great. Why his picture? has not Landseer painted him to the life in that fine picture where he is all play, with the ribbon about him to show whose pet he is, and the great mastiff lying so quiet, stretched out below him? It is, his very portrait, and when he dies you should get the print, and I have his epitaph for you to write under it.— In marble statue the Great Pompey lives, Life to the little Pompey Landseer gives. And little Pompey play’d the Roman’s part, And almost won a world—his Lydia’s heart: Then died, to prove that dogs shall have their day, And men no more, whatever parts they play. Great Cæsar at his feet in painted state— Shall little Pompey envy Pompey great. How true the pencil, and no truer pen, Alike the history paints of dogs and men.