e
sand-cart. Hark forward, lass--hark forward!"

By what peculiar instinct is it that this noble animal, the horse, will
at once perceive the slightest change in his rider's physical
temperament, and allow himself so to be influenced by it, that,
according as his master's spirits fluctuate, will his own energies rise
and fall, wavering

From walk to trot, from canter to full speed?

How is it, we ask of those more intimately acquainted with the
metaphysics of the Houyhnhnm than we pretend to be? Do the saddle or
the rein convey, like metallic tractors, vibrations of the spirit
betwixt the two? We know not, but this much is certain, that no servant
partakes so much of the character of his master as the horse. The steed
we are wont to ride becomes a portion of ourselves. He thinks and feels
with us. As we are lively, he is sprightly; as we are depressed, his
courage droops. In proof of this, let the reader see what horses some
men make--_make_, we say, because in such hands their character is
wholly altered. Partaking, in a measure, of the courage and the firmness
of the hand that guides them, and of the resolution of the frame that
sways them--what their rider wills, they do, or strive to do. When that
governing power is relaxed, their energies are relaxed likewise; and
their fine sensibilities supply them with an instant knowledge of the
disposition and capacity of the rider. A gift of the gods is the gallant
steed, which, like any other faculty we possess, to use or to abuse--to
command or to neglect--rests with ourselves; he is the best general test
of our own self-government.

Black Bess's action amply verified what we have just asserted; for
during Turpin's momentary despondency, her pace was perceptibly
diminished and her force retarded; but as he revived, she rallied
instantly, and, seized apparently with a kindred enthusiasm, snorted
joyously as she recovered her speed. Now was it that the child of the
desert showed herself the undoubted offspring of the hardy loins from
whence she sprung. Full fifty miles had she sped, yet she showed no
symptoms of distress. If possible, she appeared fresher than when she
started. She had breathed; her limbs were suppler; her action was freer,
easier, lighter. Her sire, who, upon his trackless wilds, could have
outstripped the pestilent simoom; and with throat unslaked, and hunger
unappeased, could thrice have seen the scorching sun go down, had not
greater powers of en