92 The Gamekeeper at Home. 



few yards, and pauses a second and runs. Even after 

 the start, uncertain in mind and but half resolved, it 

 is his own motion which impels the will, and he 

 arrives on the opposite shore with a sense of surprise. 

 Now comes the dog, and note his actions ; contrast 

 the two, and say which is instinct, which is mind. 



The dog races to the bank — he has been hitherto 

 hunting in a hedge and suddenly misses his master — 

 and, like his lord, stops short on the brink. He has 

 had but little experience in jumping as yet ; water is 

 not his natural element, and he pauses doubtfully. 

 He looks across earnestly, sniffs the air as if to smell 

 the distance, then whines in distress of mind. Pre- 

 sently he makes a movement to spring, checks it, and 

 turns round as if looking for advice or encouragement. 

 Next he runs back a short way as if about to give it 

 up ; returns, and cranes over the brink ; after which he 

 follows the bank up and down, barking in excitement, 

 but always coming back to the original spot. The 

 lines of his face, the straining eye, the voice that seems 

 struggling to articulate in the throat, the attitude of the 

 body, all convey the idea of intense desire which fear 

 prevents him from translating into action. There is 

 indecision — uncertainty — in the nervous grasp of the 

 paws on the grass, in the quick short coursings to and 

 fro. Would infallible instinct hesitate ? He has no 



