Gradually it dawned upon the father and the brothers that Edwin was their master so far as drawing was concerned.  They could sketch a Newfoundland dog that would pass for anybody’s Newfoundland, but Edwin’s was a certain identical dog, and none other.

Edwin Landseer really discovered the dog.

He discovered that dogs of one breed may be very different in temper and disposition; and going further he found that dogs have character and personality.  He struck an untouched lode and worked it out to his own delight and the delight of great numbers of others.

His pictures were not mystical, profound or problematic—­simply dogs, but dogs with feelings, affections, jealousies, prejudices.  In short, he showed that dogs, after all, are very much like folks; and from this, people with a turn for psychology reasoned that the source of life in the dog was the same as the source of life in man.

Plain people who owned a dog beloved by the whole household, as household dogs always are, became interested in Landseer’s dogs.  They could not buy a painting by Landseer, but they could spare a few shillings for an engraving.

And so John Landseer began to reproduce the pictures of Edwin’s dogs.

The demand grew, and Thomas now ceased to sketch and devoted all his time to etching and engraving his brother’s work.

Every one knew of Landseer, even people who cared nothing for art:  they wanted a picture of one of his dogs to hang over the chimney, because the dog looked like one they used to own.

Then rich people came and wanted Edwin to paint a portrait of their dog, and a studio was opened where the principal sitters were dogs.  From a position where close economy must be practised, the Landseers found themselves with more money than they knew what to do with.

Edwin was barely twenty, but had exhibited at several Royal Academy Exhibitions and his name was on every tongue.  He gave no attention to marketing his wares—­his father and brothers did all that—­he simply sketched and had a good time.  He was healthy, strong, active, and could walk thirty miles a day; but now that riches had come that way he bought a horse and rode.

Then other horses were presented to him, and he began to picture horses, too.  That he knew horses and loved them is evidenced in many a picture.  In every village or crossroads town of America can be found copies of his “Shoeing,” where stands the sleek bay mare, the sober, serious donkey, and the big dog.

No painter who ever lived is so universally known as Landseer, and this is because his father and brothers made it their life-business to reproduce his work by engraving.

Occasionally, rich ladies would want their own portraits painted with a favorite dog at their feet, or men wanted themselves portrayed on horseback, and so Landseer found himself with more orders than he could well care for.  People put their names, or the name of their dog, on his waiting-list, and some of the dogs died of old age before the name was reached.