Of the artists of this period it has been asserted by some authorities that Parrhasius was the most celebrated, as he is said to have "raised the art of painting to perfection in all that is exalted and essential;" uniting in his works "the classic invention of Polygnotus, the magic tone of Apollodorus, and the exquisite design of Zeuxis." He was a native of Ephesus, but became a citizen of Athens, where he won many victories over his contemporaries. One of these is recorded by Pliny as having been achieved in a public contest with Zeuxis. The latter displayed a painting of some grapes, which were so natural as to deceive the birds, that came and pecked at them. Zeuxis then requested that the curtain which was supposed to screen the picture of Parrhasius be withdrawn, when it was found that the painting of Parrhasius was merely the representation of a curtain thrown over a picture-frame. The award of merit was therefore given to Parrhasius, on the ground that while Zeuxis had deceived the birds, Parrhasius had deceived Zeuxis himself. The Roman philosopher Seneca also tells a story of Parrhasius as follows: While engaged in making a painting of "Prometheus Bound," he took an old Olynthian captive and put him to the torture, that he might catch, and transfer to canvas, the natural expression of the most terrible of mortal sufferings. This story, we may hope, is a fiction; but the incident is often alluded to by the poets, and the American poet WILLIS has painted the alleged scene in lines scarcely less terrible in their coloring than those pallid hues of death-like agony which we may suppose the painter-artist to have employed. Parrhasius and his Captive. Parrhasius stood gazing forgetfully Upon his canvas. There Prometheus lay, Chained to the cold rocks of Mount Cau'casus-- The vulture at his vitals, and the links Of the lame Lemnian festering in his flesh; [Footnote: Vulcan; the Olympian artist, who, when hurled from heaven, fell upon the Island of Lemnos, in the Ægean. He forged the chain with which Prometheus was bound.] And, as the painter's mind felt through the dim, Rapt mystery, and plucked the shadows forth With its far-reaching fancy, and with form And color clad them, his fine, earnest eye Flashed with a passionate fire; and the quick curl Of his thin nostril, and his quivering lip, Were like the wing'd god's, breathing from his flight. [Footnote: The winged god Mercury.] "Bring me the captive now! My bands feel skilful, and the shadows lift From my waked spirit airily and swift, And I could paint the bow. Upon the bended heavens, around me play Colors of such divinity to-day. "Ha! bind him on his back! Look! as Prometheus in my picture here! Quick, or he faints! stand with the cordial near! Now--bend him to the rack! Press down the poisoned links into his flesh, And tear agape that healing wound afresh!