First, and most important of all, is a clear sense of right and wrong, without which no moral advancement is possible. That nearly all Dogs have this sense, and that many possess it in a very marked degree, there can be no doubt. Several instances of this faculty are given by the author we have already quoted, Mr. G. J. Romanes,[104] who writes of a little Dog in his possession:-- [Illustration: ITALIAN GREYHOUND.] “For a long time this Terrier was the only canine pet I had. One day, however, I brought home a large Dog and chained him up outside. The jealousy of the Terrier towards the new-comer was extreme. Indeed, I never before knew that jealousy in an animal could arrive at such a pitch; but as it would occupy too much space to enter into details, it will be enough to say that I really think nothing that could have befallen this Terrier would have pleased him so much as would any happy accident by which he might well get rid of his rival. Well, a few nights after the new Dog had arrived, the Terrier was, as usual, sleeping in my bed-room. About one o’clock in the morning he began to bark and scream very loudly, and upon my waking up and telling him to be quiet, he ran between the bed and the window in a most excited manner, jumping on and off the toilette-table after each journey, as much as to say: ‘Get up quickly; you have no idea of what shocking things are going on outside!’ Accordingly I got up and was surprised to see the large Dog careering down the road: he had broken loose, and, being wild with fear at finding himself alone in a strange place, was running he knew not whither. Of course I went out as soon as possible, and after about half-an-hour’s work succeeded in capturing the runaway. I then brought him into the house and chained him up in the hall; after which I fed and caressed him, with the view of restoring his peace of mind. During all this time the Terrier had remained in my bed-room, and, although he heard the feeding and caressing process going on down-stairs, this was the only time I ever knew him fail to attack the large Dog when it was taken into the house. Upon my re-entering the bed-room, and before I had said anything, the Terrier met me with certain indescribable grinnings and prancings, which he always used to perform when conscious of having been a particularly good Dog. Now, I consider the whole of this episode a very remarkable instance in an animal of action prompted by a sense of _duty_. No other motive than the voice of conscience can here be assigned for what the Terrier did: even his strong jealousy of the large Dog gave way before the yet stronger dread he had of the remorse he knew he should have to suffer if next day he saw me distressed at a loss which it had been in his power to prevent. What makes the case more striking is, that this was the only occasion during the many years he slept in my bed-room that the Terrier disturbed me in the night-time. Indeed, the scrupulous care