The man and the greyhound are the same witless breed, the kind that achieve a result by their clean-limbed elegance alone.

Van Dyck has painted the two with what might be called a greyhound brush-stroke, a style of handling that is nothing but courtly convention and strut to the point of genius.

He is as far from the meditative spirituality of Rembrandt as could well be imagined.
Conjure up a scene in the hereditary hall after a hunt (or golf tournament), in which a man like this Duke of Lennox has a noble parley with his lady (or dancing partner), she being a sweet and stupid swan (or a white rabbit) by the same sign that he is a noble and stupid greyhound.
Be it an ancient or modern episode, the story could be told in the tone and with well-nigh the brushwork of Van Dyck.
Then there is a picture my teachers, Chase and Henri, were never weary of praising, the Girl with the Parrot, by Manet.

Here continence in nervous force, expressed by low relief and restraint in tone, is carried to its ultimate point.

I should call this an imagist painting, made before there were such people as imagist poets.