In his "Battle of Eylau," exhibited in 1808, Gros has given us a companion picture to the "Plague of Jaffa": in one a visit to a hospital, in the other the inspection of a field of battle after the fight is over. The dismal grey hue of winter rests upon the white sheet of snow stretching desolately away to the horizon, only interrupted here and there by hillocks beneath which annihilated regiments sleep their last sleep. In the foreground lie dead bodies heaped together, and moaning wounded men; and in the midst of this horror of mangled limbs and corrupting flesh he, the Conqueror, the Master, the Emperor, comes to a halt, pale, his eyes turned towards the cities burning on the horizon, in his grey overcoat and small cocked hat, at the head of his staff, indifferent, inexorable, merciless as Fate. "_Ah! si les rois pouvaient contempler ce spectacle, ils scraient moins avides de conquêtes._" The classical posturing which still lingered, a disturbing element, in the Plague picture, has been put aside completely. The conventional horse from the frieze of the Parthenon, which David alone knew, has given way to the accurately observed animal, and the colouring too, in its sad harmony, has fully recovered its ancient right of giving character to the picture. It was, beyond all controversy, the chief work in the Salon of 1808, rich in remarkable pictures; neither Gérard's "Battle of Austerlitz," nor Girodet's "Atala," nor David's Coronation piece endangered Gros' right to the first place. [Illustration: PRUDHON. THE VIRGIN.]