Portraits like this one by Sir Edwin Henry Landseer, the so-called “Shakespeare” of animal painting, were the result of the rise of evolutionary thinking that alerted people to new similarities between themselves and their four-legged friends. 

By the time A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society was first being exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1838, the British were beginning to see their dogs in a new light. Although humans had already been keeping pet dogs for about 15,000 years (they were the first animal we domesticated—ever), it wasn’t until the early decades of the 19th century that the laws protecting animals from harm were starting to be passed in England. In 1824, the first-ever animal welfare charity, the RSPCA, was founded in a London coffee shop, and in 1869, Sir Edwin Henry Landseer—himself a vocal advocate of animal rights—agreed to serve as the society’s vice president. You’d think we would’ve gotten to all this a bit sooner, but the Victorians were still busy trying to figure out basic human rights like, you know, not enslaving people and allowing women to vote. I guess animals had to get in line and wait with the rest of us, right? Right.

Regardless of the delay, animal paintings like this one were all the rage in the 19th century, and Landseer, a favorite of Queen Victoria (herself a lifelong animal lover and patroness of the RSPCA), was considered one of the finest animal painters of his day. One contemporary critic even went so far as to deem him the “Shakespeare of animal expression” for his ability to convey the individuality of his subjects while still maintaining a realistic style. High praise indeed. 

This particular painting features a Newfoundland named Bob who, legend tells us, was rescued from a shipwreck off the English coast before he found his vocation patrolling the waterfront, saving a grand total of 23 unwary swimmers from drowning over the span of 14 years. Is it true? Not much is known definitively about Bob, but, regardless of his story’s veracity, he was eventually declared a distinguished member of the Royal Humane Society for his heroism, an honor entitling him to a medal and—what was surely more exciting for Bob—free food every day. But when Landseer decided to paint Bob in 1837, he was nowhere to be found, and so a different model was brought in to take his place: Paul Pry, a dog Landseer had once seen walking down a London street carrying a message (or, according to some accounts, a basket of flowers) for his mistress. Both Bob and Paul Pry were black and white in color, a variety Landseer painted so frequently that they’ve since come to be called “Landseer” Newfoundlands, making Sir Edwin the first and only artist in history to have a dog breed named after him.

Like many of Landseer’s later works, A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society is relatively simple in its composition, its emphasis placed not upon clever allegorical meanings, but instead on the dog’s soft-eyed, almost beatific expression, cast heavenward in an attitude typically reserved for saints in religious art. He appears calm, easy, dignified; foregrounding a leaden sea and sky that could spell trouble for any swimmers or sailors braving the water, his relaxed posture is a reassurance that they are in safe hands (er, paws?) as long as he’s on lifeguard duty. The sky directly behind his head is lighter in color, almost golden, suggesting a barely-visible halo hovering about his head. And—if the portrait isn’t grand enough for you already—it’s life-size in person, which is no small matter (yes, pun intended) in the case of Newfoundlands. When full-grown, they can weigh up to 150 pounds, making them one of the largest dog breeds in the world alongside Great Danes, Mastiffs, and Saint Bernards.

In the act of making the deeply individual, nearly human facial expression of Bob (as portrayed by Paul Pry) the subject of his painting, Landseer is already making a tacit argument for the consideration of animals as fully sentient beings, a hot-button issue during the Victorian period, when the animal rights movement was still very much in its infancy. But he brings his point home with the work’s punny title, A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society, which, with just a single letter removed, reads “A Distinguished Member of the Human Society”—and the meaning of that couldn’t be any more clear. With such a powerful message behind them, it’s no wonder that his paintings resonated so strongly with animal-lovers and advocacy groups back in the 19th century. And whether or not slightly anthropomorphic animal portraits are really your thing, just look how cute he is! I mean, come on—how could you say no to that face?