CHAPTER V.

FOOD--THE FITTEST TIME FOR FEEDING, AND THE KIND OF FOOD WHICH THE HORSE NATURALLY CONSUMES.

The folly of perversity or the madness of abuse can imagine no possible wrong that the human race have not inflicted upon the creature to which civilization owes its heaviest obligations. The horse, which more than shares in mortal toil, is forced to work before its bones are matured. When strained and deformed by the severity of labor, it is sworn at and lashed because its body shares, with all things on this earth, the perishableness which is inseparable from mortal existence. It is created to enjoy the freest breezes of the plain; but, by the superior power which has domesticated, the type of activity is doomed to stand, throughout life, within the narrow confines of a stall. It is the emblem of timidity; yet it is driven into every species of peril. Nature endowed it with fleetness, and formed it to delight in action; but mankind expect it to exhibit health during years of inactivity, and think its limbs should not become stiff from incessant lack of motion.

Its food grows abundantly on the surface of earth; every fresh mouthful necessitates an additional step; for the animal, when free, walks as it eats, and lowers the head, to collect its sustenance from the ground. Mankind imprisons the poor life; the hay is placed level with the ears, and the corn is given even with the chest of the animal. Nay, the very groom, when he permits water to be imbibed, raises the pail, resting its edge upon his knee. Nature enabled the horse to feed by night,--when the air is cool; when all is quiet; when the grass is moist, and when the flies are not abroad: then the emblem of concord pastures in peacefulness. The stabled horse is allowed to eat only by day. Though intended to be watchful, horse masters insist the wakeful quadruped should accept twelve hours of repose; and they lock the stable door, that its imaginary slumbers may be undisturbed.

The sufferer wears clothes only while under shelter. During summer it always retains its coat; but, as frost and snow approach, the covering which nature sent to conserve the body’s warmth human wisdom either clips or singes away, dooming the native of a sunny clime to shiver in the blast of a northern winter. Man knows that heat benefits his slave; yet the horse only feels it as the product of impurity; so that, either it must suffer from the lowness of temperature, or it must languish from the inhalation of a tainted atmosphere.

The summit of wrong, however, seems to be attained, when we consider the food which the companion of man is condemned to consume within the walls of its dungeon. The corn is gathered after it has become ripe, or after all moisture has ceased to circulate within the grain; and even then it must be hardened and further dried by age before it is cast into the manger. The juicy herbage of the field--the soft verdure of the earth--is the natural support of the creature. Nevertheless, man presents grass to his captive only after the wind and the sun have expelled moisture from the stems; and after fermentation in the stack often has parched the blades till these crumble beneath the touch.

When time has accomplished the hardening which human perversity regards as most essential toward maintaining the health of a horse; when both corn and hay have been transformed into stubborn and unyielding substances; at the age when the first will rattle harshly on being shaken in the sieve, and the last grate audibly when moved by the fork,--then, only then, is either placed before the quadruped. Such provision the prisoner must consume or starve. Hunger is the hardest of all task-masters. The dumb being cannot tell of the agony occasioned by man’s forcing its organs of mastication to uses which will wear down the hardest and coarsest of stones; it cannot portray the torment of thirst, begotten by the long pulverization of matter rendered tough and dry by artificial processes; it cannot describe the agony produced by the grating of such nutriment upon the tender membrane of the stomach; nor can it announce those cruel diseases which afflict the sufferer,--each being engendered by mistaken treatment, against which the afflicted is powerless to appeal.

That which the mouth was designed to prepare, the stomach was intended to appropriate. Moist food is most enjoyed by the horse, and moisture is likewise imperative for the completion of digestion. Upon the accomplishment of this process health and life are dependent. There is no part of the frame which is endowed with an independent existence. By that which the root absorbs, the remotest twig is nourished. The feet or the limbs may fail; man may term such a failure a misfortune, or speak of it as an accident; but the weakness of the body is the primary necessity of almost all such occurrences. The trunk must bend before the vigor of inflammation can be displayed; and health must have departed before the presence of disease is possible.

“Nonsense! folly! downright stupidity!” some sporting reader may exclaim. “Look at all men, when in training. Do not they, during such time, live upon dry food?” Certainly not. Not upon food “dry” in the same sense as is implied by the sound hay and seasoned oats of the stable. Bread, seen upon any human table, whether as loaf or biscuit, is a moist substance, when compared with either of the articles on which horses subsist. But what shall be said about the contents of the rack or the manger, when compared with the under-done rump steak of which man, when in training, so frequently partakes?

Nor is the subject fairly reviewed, when the form of food is alone considered. The horse does not graze without selection. Certain herbs are scrupulously avoided; others are eagerly sought for. The animal does not eat straight before it; but the head moves to either side, each mouthful being carefully collected with the lips before the juicy tops of the plants are operated upon by the teeth. The horse feeds only off the growing ends of the grasses. The varying herbage may be supposed to present numerous savors to the keen scent of the pasturer; and a fresh flavor may be relished with each new mouthful. Nature has evidently scattered variety, where the dull sense of man can perceive only sameness; and, to the temperate palate of a horse, the verdure of the fields may afford a delicious and an ever-varying banquet.

The instinct which enables the animal to make a selection among numberless growing plants, fades and is lost when moisture has departed with the color, and the perfume natural to the herbage has been changed by art. The animal perceptions may be puzzled; for art can defeat instinct. Some quadrupeds, as if much perplexed, will pick the hay, eating little, but spoiling more than is consumed. Others appear to distaste the preparation, and these refuse it altogether. Few inhabitants of the stable will accept all that may be placed before them, though the rejection may depend more upon the fastidiousness begotten by captivity, than be generated by positive dislike. Few animals exhibit either choice or discretion in the selection of certain portions of prepared fodder. The rejection of particular parts seems to be guided only by fancy or caprice. That which in the green state would be abhorred, when “cut and dried” may by preference be devoured.

We can reasonably conclude that the impulses of instinct, being natural instructors, convey wise admonitions. Many people are so credulous as to believe that the Creator is all-wise, and that nothing formed by the will of Omnipotence is without a special purpose. It is man who converts grass into hay; thus rendering nugatory that discrimination which was bestowed as a protection upon the lower life.

Some persons may feel disposed to assert that all power to injure is also lost, when the natural odor of prepared herbage has been changed; they may argue that what was injurious, with the scent has also lost the characteristic capability to harm. Does chemistry uphold such a conclusion? The dried and powdered herbs of the Pharmacopœia point to an opposite inference. Experience and experiment warrant a contrary judgment. The yew-tree is an active poison to the horse. Gardeners annually clip the compact hedges of yew, which too frequently surround and shelter country lawns. The twigs often fall into fields where horses are pastured. While the cuttings remain green, the animals recognize the poisonous nature and refuse to partake of the fallen leaves. But let exposure dry the refuse, and the grasses of the meadow are deserted, to devour that which was previously avoided. The poison, however, has not evaporated with moisture. The odor, by which danger was recognized, alone has been lost; but the deadly nature seems to be more concentrated: or the issue may be rendered speedier by the lessened bulk of the dried vegetable, and the greater amount of it which therefore can be swallowed.

Apply the above illustration, and, guided by its teaching, say how far man is justified in presenting the wholesale gathering of a field to a hungry horse. It is true, we know of no injury being produced by hay. But we know that the stable, as at present managed, is far from a healthful abode. We are certain, instinct was not created without a purpose; and we have seen that the vegetable, which is avoided when fresh, is not rendered powerless by its moisture being expelled. Therefore, guided by such monitors, we can do no wrong by endeavoring to render hay a wholesome food. None of the grasses are positively poisonous; but the animal prefers those which have a crisp and clean appearance. Soft or woolly provender is never relished. It were an easy labor for a youth to select the good from the bad; while doing this, the boy might be instructed to reject all and everything which was not the fitting kind of grass. The cost of such a process would be very trifling, and the welfare of the animal might soon repay all extra outlay.

However, few, very few people know how to tell a good from a bad sample of hay. Vast quantities of that which no proprietor should oblige his imprisoned slaves to consume, are daily sold; some persons even prefer particular kinds of produce; while others, urged by parsimony, will purchase only damaged hay. There should be, however, in this substance little room for the exercise of choice or of discretion. The characteristics of good hay are very marked, and such only should be purchased by the careful horse owner.

It is the intention of the author to offer some remarks upon this simple but excessively important topic. The comments will be accompanied with tinted wood engravings, which will help the judgment, though these cannot inform the reader on every particular. Therefore, he must kindly assist the writer, as few things are more difficult to describe than taste or smell; since these senses are always under the control of individual predilection.

=Upland Hay= should look clean. Every fiber should appear distinct. The color should be bright and should convey an idea of newness. No dust ought to be present; neither should the sample, however much it may have been disturbed, lose its prominent features. The constituents will all point pretty much in one direction. Of course this order is not so absolute as to appear like arrangement, but the confusion which generally marks the fibers of the after-meath is never present in a fair sample of well-carried “Upland hay.” The scent is commonly very pleasant--not so strong as, but in other respects little different from, the perfume of new-mown hay: to most people its odor is highly agreeable. Weeds should not be abundant; but the presence of foreign growths is clearly indicated by their darker hue, by the browner tint, and the fuller form. The stems should not have shed the seeds, though grasses vary so much in the period of their ripening that it is vain to expect some will not have broken this rule. When a portion is placed within the mouth and is masticated, it rather communicates a mild and pleasant flavor than yields a strong or pungent taste. In short, cleanness and delicacy are the prominent characteristics of “Upland hay;” which some growers imagine is scarcely injured by long keeping. New hay is certainly objectionable. But the year’s growth is wholesome feed by November; and, in the author’s judgment, it is best when it first comes into use.

=Lowland Hay.=--This kind of preserved grass lacks the bright color, being more tawny than the preceding; indeed, the absence of the green tint is conspicuous, and can hardly fail to be remarked. The arrangement of the fibers is not so well preserved, neither is the crispness or the newness of aspect, for which “Upland hay” is notable, to be remarked in the “Lowland truss.” The flowering heads to the stems are all but absent. When felt, it communicates a sense of softness. If rattled, no brisk sound is elicited. It has a stronger and a more pungent perfume. The odor is very far from being so delicate; neither is the taste characterized by any pleasantness of flavor. When placed between the teeth, mastication communicates a sense of softness and toughness: the taste is coarse, almost disagreeable: at first it is vapid, though after a short space a certain amount of pungency is developed. The woolly texture; the want of boldness in the component parts; their comparative smallness; with the washed-out aspect of the whole, and the confusion of the mass, should prevent a novice even from accepting “Lowland” for “Upland hay.”

=Rowen= or =After-meath= presents a greater confusion than even “Lowland hay.” The softness is more conspicuous; flowering heads are only occasionally met with; the stems are few in number, are small in point of size, and form no prominent feature of the whole. This species of fodder lacks perfume altogether; but, as regards color, it may have a slight greenish tint clinging faintly to it. Still, by its want of the brisk or the healthy aspect, and by its darker hue, it is at once recognized for the thing it is,--an unseasonable produce, reaped late in the year, and got up long after the freshness of spring had departed. To the mouth it imparts a strong and slightly bitter taste. The odor is not objectionable, although it does not approach to a perfume. Horses which have been accustomed to the better sort, refuse Rowen, or only accept it after actual hunger has been experienced.

=Clover Hay= is universally mixed with grass and weeds. A good sample of this produce, a novice might easily reject as being too foul a specimen for his approval, and the hay of the second crop (which is not generally remarkable in that particular) be selected in preference. The stems also appear to bear a large proportion to the whole, when compared with the flowers and the leaves. The fact of the stalks being rarely viewed in the clover field may render this feature the more conspicuous. But the stems are hollow, and consequently lose little bulk when dried. The flowers and leaves, on the contrary, are juicy; and no insignificant portion of their substance is, apparently, lost during evaporation. In the first cut of clover, however, the stems, though numerous, are comparatively fine, and the leaves, though dark, have no tinge of blackness. The flowers are abundant, and faded, of course; but they still retain indications of their original color. Though compressed, they nevertheless suggest what has once been their figure. In taste, a marked resemblance is recognized between the slight flavor of the hay and the strong aroma of the growing plant.

=The Second Crop of Clover= is distinguished by the grasses and weeds of the first cut being all but absent. The stems are larger, firmer, and bear a greater proportion to the whole. The flowers are not so numerous, and are more dingy in appearance, as well as apparently less carefully preserved. Mastication also enables to be recognized a coarser and a stronger flavor than characterizes good hay of the spring’s harvest. The leaves approach near to a black tint. When a truss of the first and one of the second crop of clover are placed together, the last appears remarkable for depth of color.

=Heated= or =Mow-burnt Hay= is that which has been subjected to such uncontrolled fermentation as shall scorch the substance, and, if not checked, would ultimately fire the stack. A certain amount of fermentation is needful for the development of sound hay, but should the necessary action be suffered to proceed too far, “heated or mow-burnt hay” is the result. Most horses will eat this kind of fodder with appetite when it is first presented; but after the novelty of the diet has subsided, there are few animals which do not apparently loathe such produce. The illustration by no means represents the worst specimen which the author has encountered, but it is of that medium character which best conveys a just idea of a general subject. From this sample, however, certain leaves could be chosen that are perfectly black, and which, when attempted to be rolled between the fingers, would crumble into powder. Such a peculiarity, together with the darkened hue, affords the easiest means of recognizing this provender, which, although some silly people by preference employ in their stables, is very far from being a wholesome food for horses. Burnt vegetable matter produces potash; therefore there can be no cause to reject, as a groundless prejudice, the assertion that much “mow-burnt hay” will occasion diabetes. It has a powerful odor, resembling the mixed smell which pervades a public hay market; but the taste has little to distinguish it, being somewhat vapid.

=Weather-beaten Hay= is equally devoid of smell or of taste. It has a ragged, a confused, and a broken aspect. The hue is deepened; but the color greatly depends upon the period of its exposure, the soil on which it has lain, the amount of wet to which it has been subjected, and the condition in which it has been “got up.” So delicate a produce as carefully prepared hay, of course cannot be long exposed to the effects of wind and rain without its more choice qualities being deteriorated, while to the extent of its deterioration, of course the farmer can oppose no check. Therefore a fair general specimen, exhibiting the common characteristics of the majority of samples, is submitted to the reader; but it cannot be expected that a single illustration should embody the multiform aspects which are generated by diverse and powerful influences acting upon a perishable substance.

=Musty Hay= is readily recognized by its strong and peculiar smell, resembling the refuse which has been employed to stuff articles of cheap furniture. This it likewise calls to mind by its rumpled and confused appearance. It should never be offered to any animal as a substitute even for better food.

“Upland Hay,” as will be seen by the foregoing remarks, is a fair general fodder for the horse. To it, however, a portion of clover hay should be added; but this last is best given in the form of chaff. Ready-cut chaff should never be purchased, because most persons have extraordinary notions as to the ingredients suited for such a form of provender. Hay, which the animal refuses to touch when placed in the rack, is often salted and cut into chaff. Thus seasoned, and in such a shape being mixed with corn, it may be eaten. The horse is imposed upon by the salt and the oats which were mingled with the trash; but the sane proprietor has only to calmly inquire of himself--whether that savor which disguises the taste can also change an unwholesome substance into a wholesome nutriment?

It is likewise a prevailing custom to cut straws of different kinds and to throw the rubbish into the chaff bin. Such a practice is spoken of as among the improvements of modern horse-feeding. The quadruped may consume this species of refuse, but it is, in the author’s judgment, not a matter for doubt whether such articles merely distend the stomach or whether they can nourish the body. People who advocate cheapness may be favorable to the use of straw; but these persons should not deceive themselves, far less ought they to impose upon others, by asserting so exhausted a material can possibly prove a supporting constituent of diet.

Within the stem of the ripened wheat plant no sap circulates. All the strength of the growth has gone to the seed. Were not the sapless stalk cut and preserved by man, it would shortly topple over, and, by decay, be mingled with the soil. It is well understood that grass, after it has shed its seed, is unsuited for making a nutritious hay. Grain-yielding plants are only cultivated grasses; and the art which has enlarged the seed and lengthened the stem cannot pretend also to have mastered the laws of nature by having endowed a refuse material with nutritious properties. Persons who desire to have straw mingled with the manger food of the horse, should take some pains to procure articles rightfully prepared. The plants should be mown while green; be properly treated, stacked, and husbanded with more than the care usually bestowed on ordinary stems. The same rule should be observed with regard to bean stalks, or whatever else is to be severed into lengths, and is to be esteemed a fitting food for the horse.

Thus prepared, the wheat stem might prove worthy the repute which is at present bestowed upon its exhausted representative. When harvested after this plan, the stalk would retain all that virtue which, at a later season, is expended upon the seed. It would nourish as well as distend. Indeed, the popular custom of giving horses that for food which adds to the bulk of provender, but does not support the system, cannot be too strongly reprobated; yet such a practice is followed in the great majority of existing stables. The animals, to satisfy the cravings of appetite, are compelled to devour more than their diminutive stomachs should contain. Over-gorging is likewise promoted by the habit of subjecting all kinds of horses to prolonged and unnatural periods of abstinence. The consequences of such customs are exemplified in the attenuated stomachs of most old subjects. Often this viscus, upon the muscular and secretive actions of which the health and the strength are dependent, when taken from the body of an animal which has long been subjected to the abuses practiced in the modern stables, is of so stretched a nature as to be semi-transparent, and sometimes as thin as brown paper.

When a horse returns home, after a long fast, it is most unwise to place the famished life before a heaped manger. First attend to its immediate requirements. These satisfied, and the harness removed, a pail of gruel should be offered to the animal. The writer knows it is said by many grooms that their horses will not drink gruel; the author likewise is aware that most servants dislike the bother attendant on its preparation, while few understand the manner in which it should be prepared. The general plan is to stir a little oatmeal into any pail containing hot water, and to offer the mess, under the name of gruel, to the palate which long abstinence may have rendered fastidious. The horse only displays its intelligence when it rejects the potion thus rudely concocted.

No stable is complete unless its furniture embraces a two-gallon pot, and a pail which is kept sacred to cleanly purposes. Then, with regard to oatmeal; this substance, as commonly sold by corn-chandlers, and some bakers, is positively rank. It is naturally sweeter even than other meals; but, by long keeping, it contracts a pungent and a most unpleasant taste. To be good, it should be fresh; and the coarser it is, the finer is the gruel which it yields.

There are few places in London where the oatmeal which is purchased can be depended upon. The writer, however, has for several months enjoyed, every morning and night, a mess of most excellent porridge, made from coarse Scotch or “round” meal procured of Mr. C. Rayment, corn-chandler, Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge. It is so sweet and pleasant that the diet requires no “Kitchener,” or accompanying condiment, to recommend it. The preparation is eaten without flavoring; and it seems to possess medicinal properties, as under its use the writer has lost that yellowness of skin which formerly denoted the liver to be deranged, while he is rapidly regaining health, and has entirely discarded the employment of drugs.

One quart of Mr. C. Rayment’s Scotch oatmeal should be thrown into the two-gallon pot, which is to be gradually filled with boiling water, a little cold being first used, merely to divide the grains. The saucepan is then placed on the fire, and its contents are to be briskly stirred until the liquid has boiled for ten minutes. After this, it may be put where it will only just simmer; and, in one hour, the gruel will be ready, or in shorter time, should the fire be fierce. The liquid is then poured through a sieve, or should the steed be excessively exhausted, the gruel may be mixed with one quart of sound ale and with half a pound of sugar. The solid part is mingled, while hot, with an equal quantity of bran, and this mixture, having been closely covered, is placed in the manger half an hour after the gruel has been imbibed.

Some horses, however, purge when brought home after a long fast. Such animals are generally of a loose and weakly constitution. For creatures of this description the bran would prove injurious, and an additional pint of meal had better be boiled in a quart of water, which, when mixed with the solid from which the gruel has been strained, will constitute a moist and highly nutritious diet for a delicate horse. The author has, for experiment, tried this form of food upon several quadrupeds, which he was assured abhorred everything like mash or gruel; but only in one instance was the preparation not eagerly consumed. In the exceptional case it was not entirely rejected, being partly eaten; but the writer suspects the apparently dainty quadruped had been previously supplied with a more than usual quantity of oats, as the behavior rather testified to want of appetite than denoted any positive dislike of the nourishment which was before the animal.

Besides hay, corn is commonly used in this country as a food for horses. The corn of the English stable is almost confined to oats. In foreign lands various substances are employed. General, however, as the adoption of oats may be in this kingdom, few, very few persons, beyond the limits of the corn market, have any distinct notion concerning this kind of grain. With the vast majority an oat is an oat, and all oats are of one kind. In exceptional cases, gentlemen are partial to oats of some particular hue. Certain persons will purchase only a black oat; another class prefer a full golden tint, to distinguish the kind they favor; while a few admire a whiteness of husk. Such differences, however, do not affect the grain; the colors are limited to the chaff--the kernels of all are of one tint.

The kernel, or the mealy substance of oats, differs in each variety of corn. One sample shall be thick in the husk, and possessed of a superabundance of beard; but the body of such corn will be narrow, also of contrasting sizes and of various colors.

The inferior specimens are commonly mixed with other seeds, with pieces of stick and portions of straw, as well as sometimes adulterated by the presence of other grain. These oats may impart a saltish flavor to the taste; likewise they may have a faint, smoky, or fusty odor. Such corn seldom weighs more than twenty-two pounds to the bushel.

OATS. KERNELS.

KONISBERG OATS.]

OATS. KERNELS.

PETERSBURG OATS.]

Another sample, of a different country, will rattle briskly as it is poured from the bulk into the palm. Such has a clean aspect and almost a metallic luster. It is full or plump, being positively beardless, and exhibits no more husk than is needed to surround the kernel of such grain. When attentively scrutinized, perhaps no specimen of oats will be found to be all of one size; but no very striking inequalities will catch the attention, when the better sort are viewed. These are entirely tasteless; and do not even suggest the possibility of a scent appertaining to them. Corn of this quality is too valuable not to be carefully harvested; consequently the hardest pressure of the thumb nail leaves no indentation; while the kernel rather chips than tears asunder, when compressed between the teeth.

OATS. KERNELS.

BEST SCOTCH OATS.]

OATS. KERNELS.

ENGLISH OATS, FROM CANADIAN SEED.]

The absence of beard, however, is not an invariable sign of excellence: if the weight per bushel be heavy, this feature should not be too strongly insisted upon. Some good corn is distinguished by a greater length of husk than is requisite simply to surround the kernel; but such atones for this peculiarity by the bulk of the grain. It is true that a sample of this kind seldom attains to the highest weight, and the purchaser loses somewhat by an excess of chaff.

OATS. KERNELS.

NEW IRISH FEED OATS.]

OATS. KERNELS.

FIRST CLASS SWEDES.]

Yet in England, which country on the continent is esteemed to be a land of horses, very few stables are supplied with other grain than that of an inferior description. The better kind is bought by the miller and the trainer of racers or hunters. The inferiority of most corn, however, seems not to disturb domestic tranquillity. The majority of proprietors open an account with some neighboring chandler, and the groom is empowered to fetch the provender, which the horses are supposed to consume. Dealers in grain do not enjoy unsullied reputations. It is a custom with grooms to exact ten or five per cent. on all the master’s bills which refer to the stable. The gentleman, therefore, always purchases his fodder very dearly, where such an arrangement exists.

Oats should never be bought by measurement, but should invariably be purchased by weight. A prime sample will weigh forty-eight pounds to the bushel; whereas the author has heard of, although he does not pretend to have seen, oats so very light that the same bulk was only equivalent to sixteen pounds. However, a grain which is professed merely to reach twenty-two pounds is to be met with in every market.

The difference of weight should be more than accompanied by an equivalent diminution of price; because a prime oat of forty-eight pounds will yield thirty-six pounds of pure grain, after the chaff has been removed. A fair oat gives half its weight of kernel; but an excellent sample will afford three-quarters of its entire weight in prime nutritious substance; whereas a poor specimen will produce no more than eight pounds of clean corn to the bushel measure!

Consequently, supposing a choice sample to sell for thirty-six shillings, the inferior article can be worth only eight shillings the quarter; for no man can esteem the husk as a food suitable for any living creature, nor would any person purchase such utter refuse, even at the fraction of a penny per pound. Cheapness, in such particulars, is therefore very far from the truest economy.

Most chandlers do not keep the better specimens of oats. With the majority, thirty-six pounds is about the prime standard. As a proof of the correctness of the above assertion, the author, a few months ago, visited a friend, and being grieved to see that the best price was paid for an inferior oat, he purposed to call on all the neighboring dealers in corn, inquiring for grain of only forty pounds weight. Even this the writer was unable to obtain--all naming thirty-six pounds as the gravity of the highest article which they had in stock. The gentleman, therefore, who determines to procure only the choicest corn, must purchase of some large and respectable retail dealer. Should any chandler assert the impossibility of his obtaining the heavier kind of grain, let the gentleman at once seek some tradesman who has dealings at the Corn Exchange, where any quantity of any species of grain can at all times be secured, without further trouble than usually attends upon business transactions.

The animal is doubly defrauded where poor corn is served out by measure. The grain, in the first place, contains less nourishment; in the next place, the solid bulk is not the same; because the husks not only occupy more space, for, by acting as props to one another, frequently clear cavities are formed. Therefore, were the light and the heavy corns, required to fill a given measure, to be counted, probably no vast difference would be discovered in their number. The reader must, however, himself determine how far it is possible for a horse to be cheated, without the master suffering from the fraud in its effect.

Further injury is inflicted by permitting the quadruped to consume only an inferior corn. Whoever will carefully examine the drawings of oats given in the present division of the book, can hardly fail to remark that the denuded kernels appear of a size disproportioned to that represented as the dimensions of the perfect grain. The microscope makes plain the source of this apparent disparity. The epidermis or the covering of the kernel is coated with numerous fine hairs, which are too small to be perceptible to the unaided vision. These hairs are closely compressed when surrounded by the natural envelope; but when released from the husk, the hairs expand, and thus occasion the naked eye to behold something far too large for the case from which it has recently been released.

1. A section of an Oat Hair Calculus. 2. Magnified hairs, mixed with crystals of the phosphates. 3. Hairs, further magnified. 4. Hairs, so enlarged as to display their bulbous insertions and curved forms. ]

In the inferior sorts, the hairs are rather longer, and likewise more numerous, than in the better kind of corn; while, of course, the covering, according to the smallness of the grain, becomes serious, when regarded as a proportionate weight of the whole. These diminutive hairs are perfectly indigestible and entirely indestructible when taken into the stomach. The peristaltic action releases them from the surface of the kernel; being set free, they are frequently felted together by the moisture and rolling motion of the stomach. However small the hairs may be separately, nevertheless by their union they form masses of immense size, provoking such serious impactment as often leads to a terrible and a fatal issue. A further reason, therefore, exists for employing good grain in the possibility of such accumulations, the true nature of which was first pointed out by Professor Morton, and by that learned gentleman these concretions were appropriately designated =Oat Hair Calculi=.

It has long been known that digestion is promoted by crushing the corn before placing it in the manger. This custom, as a part of the proper process, cannot be too highly commended. But careless horse owners sometimes purchase the stable provender in a crushed state, or send to have this process performed elsewhere than on their own premises. Such habits are strongly objected to; the horse is surrounded by so much dishonesty, that a prudent man is not justified in trusting the animal’s food to the possibility of exchange or of adulteration.

To convey to the reader a definite notion of the very different characters impressed upon various samples of oats, the following illustrations of a few of those which were kindly supplied by a wholesale firm, transacting business at the Corn Exchange, are here presented.

OATS. KERNELS.

IRISH OATS. BLEACHED.]

OATS. KERNELS.

KILN-DRIED DANISH OATS.]

OATS. KERNELS.

SCOTCH OATS. SECOND QUALITY.]

OATS. KERNELS.

FINLAND BLACK OATS.]

A horse owner should invariably have all corn crushed and chaff cut on his premises. The necessary machines are well known, and will soon repay their cost. New grain will not break or crush, but will rather leave the mill flattened or bruised. Corn of this description is easily told by its being soft and yielding; also by its retaining the mark made by the pressure of the thumb nail. Should that test not be perfectly satisfactory, a convincing proof is soon obtained by placing the suspected grain between the teeth. A sound oat should be dry and hard: it should almost chip asunder, and not be torn or broken into pieces by compression. In the autumn months, great care is needed to procure sound corn; the non-professional purchaser is, perhaps, best protected, when he deals for such an article with responsible trades-people, who, in their business, have a character to sacrifice.

OATS. KERNELS.

ENGLISH FEED.]

It is a custom to expel the moisture from new grain by drying it in a kiln. It is thereby, in some degree, improved; but it cannot be said to be rendered as wholesome as sound corn, hardened by the natural process. Moreover, oats badly harvested or damaged by wet are frequently placed in the kiln, where they are exposed to the sulphur, in order to change or amend their color. The husks, however, at the conclusion of the process, are seldom all of one tint. If closely examined, indications of the original defect may be discovered on some grains, while others will be of an unnatural whiteness. Kiln-dried oats sometimes betray a shriveled aspect on that part which is near to the beard, such puckering being occasioned by the sudden expulsion of much dampness from the interior. The best test, however, is the rapid rubbing of the sample between the palms of the heated hands; when, should sulphur have been employed, its peculiar odor will be developed.

The author has been thus careful in describing the signs which declare the presence of sulphur, because that mineral, although much employed by ordinary farriers, can occasion the most terrible belly-ache, gripes, fret, or spasms. This affection is one of the most fearful to which the horse is subject, and is the more to be dreaded, as it too often leads to other complications. Perhaps a greater number of animals annually perish through causes resulting from spasms, than die under any other equine ailment.

Healthy corn, having been bruised, is not even then properly prepared for the equine digestion. The stomach of the horse is a delicate membranous sac, which is easily perforated or ruptured. It has no provision suited to digest hard corn, neither are the teeth of the animal fitted to masticate so resistant a substance. Unlike the similar organs in man, the equine tooth is destined to wear by attrition, and anything calculated to hasten that process equally diminished the existence of the animal. The inappropriateness of the stable and its food must be the reason why English horses are so lamentably short lived. The quadruped was, according to the briefest calculation, designed to exist for forty years; but the majority in this country cease to breathe before they attain the sixth birthday. How much money is thereby sacrificed! How much barbarity is by this lamentable mortality proved to exist! What a terrible amount of unmerited abuse must be yearly perpetrated! What a lack of appreciation of the Creator’s goodness is exemplified by the cruelty which thus shortens the duration of His choicest gift to the human race!

a a. Pipes, having stop-cocks to regulate the steam and to allow it to circulate when the boiler is not employed.

b b, b b. An iron pot, having a close-fitting lid, but pierced to admit the steam pipes.

c c. A shifting interior case, made with a perforated bottom.

d d. A layer of straw or of hay to prevent the crushed grain clogging the openings.

e e e. The broken corn undergoing the process of being prepared.

f. A small tap to drain off the condensed fluid.]

Prior to the grain being placed before the horse, it should be softened. Where a building is heated by steam, the accomplishment of this would always be at command. Let each feed of corn and every portion of hay, whether cut into chaff or not, be cooked by being exposed to the action of the vapor for a couple of hours. Moisture, in the form of steam, is known to be very penetrating; and the ingredients of the manger, when thus prepared, are always more relished than in the raw condition, while the liquid which drains from the provender will prove a highly grateful and a most nutritious beverage to the tired quadruped.

Hard substances taken into the stomach of a horse are well known to derange the animal’s system--a fact which has long been proved to the horse-copers and other rogues who live by imposition. A pound of shot will, for a time, conceal the peculiar breathing characteristic of broken wind, though this temporary escape from an outward symptom of disease is often followed by disastrous consequences. Hard grain, if fired from a rifle, would prove no contemptible missile; much of it is bolted by the quadruped before which it is cast, and consequently passes out of the body undigested. The actions of sparrows and the luxuriant green crops which often adorn the tops of dunghills are both evidences of the waste attending the ordinary mode of feeding.

General, all but universal, as the employment of oats may be in this kingdom, very few of Her Britannic Majesty’s subjects have the remotest idea of the use which this corn subserves in the animal economy. Drivers will stop, when proceeding upon long journeys, and order their nags large feeds of oats, to enable them to complete the distance, or, in other words, to aid the muscular power. Corn, however, is now ascertained to generate only fat, which rather detracts from than favors the development of motor energy. It certainly sounds strangely, after the expenditure of millions of money, after ages of experience, and after the training of horses was thought to have been fostered into a science, to hear it broadly asserted that the purpose and end attained by the administration of England’s favorite feed for horses is totally mistaken! Such, however, is the unvarnished truth; the gallops or the sweats that frequently injure animals while in training are no more than the efforts of ignorance to remove those consequences which its own acts have occasioned. They are attempts to get rid of the fat, which the employment of much corn has naturally produced.

Besides oats, however, beans are used in the best stables; but there is much dispute as to the quantity which a horse can advantageously consume. The English field bean should always be hardened by age before it is suited for the manger; even then, it should be prepared; for a substance which, when rattled in a measure, emits a sound like to that produced by so many pebbles striking one against the other, can hardly be in a condition proper for comminution between most sensitive and highly-organized members. They should be crushed and subjected to the action of steam, which will, in a couple of hours, remove the objectionable quality without reducing them to a watery mass.

Horse beans, as grown in England, however, are very coarse and astringent substances. No wonder if the large employment of such produce is found to act upon the bowels; surprise should be expressed if so harsh a food could be consumed without inducing constipation. The Egyptian bean, nevertheless, is free from such objectionable properties, being mild and sweet. The author thinks a larger quantity of this crushed and moistened seed might be with benefit presented to the animal. As at present imported, however, it is very imperfectly harvested. Most samples exhibit the shriveled and the discolored skin, which denotes the sickle was resorted to before the plant was matured--an error perfectly inexcusable in a climate which is for nine months of the year free from rain.

Might not some sound Egyptian beans be procured; from these could not a milder and better species of bean be raised in this country? The field pea is open to the same condemnation; but field peas are not generally employed in stables. Those used for horses are small and white, of foreign growth, and quite unobjectionable. Tares are given only to farm teams; but if this plant possesses only a tithe part of those virtues for which it is accredited, its employment might be advantageously extended. Why should hay be made only of grass which, though admirable sustenance for the bovine tribe, evidently is not equally suited to the equine species? The dropsy of the abdomen and legs it induces in nags, together with the foulness of coat which it engenders, are perhaps the best evidence of the injury that attends the long employment of green grass, or even of hay, as a solitary sustenance.

Might not beans, peas, and other leguminous substances be sown broadcast, and mown when in flower? Hay thus produced would be of all value in the stable, because grass, like corn, whether exhibited green or dry, simply induces fat; whereas leguminous plants all favor the development of muscular fiber or support the strength of the body. Such hay might be charged a little higher; but then its feeding value and its worth as a promoter of condition would far more than recompense any extra money at which it might be charged.

It may be asked why, if hay produces fat, are the horses of the poor so lamentably lean, since such quadrupeds receive little else than hay to sustain them? The reasons are numerous. The hay such horses obtain is not often of a good quality; and it is to be feared the stuff is not, frequently, presented in sufficient quantity to promote obesity. Besides, this substance leaves the muscular power unrefreshed. The frame being exhausted by a life passed in exertion, the body’s weakness effectually counteracts all tendency to fatten.

Beans are not known to be much exposed to deterioration; but oats are liable to an affection of the epidermis or of the skin, which causes them to be covered with little granules of a dark color, which the microscope discovers to be fungoid growths resembling a species of very minute toadstools. Corn, when in this condition, is readily recognized by a very powerful musty smell; and the grain, of course, is not adapted to nourish any animal. Musty provender is supposed to engender worms and other unpleasantnesses; but the author is disposed to attribute the production of the parasites to a want of resistance in the system, which may be inherited, or spring from a sickly state of the body, or which may be produced by the consumption of unwholesome diet.

Another advantage which is attendant on the employment of heat and moisture is that, by its operation, the unwholesome nature of food, if not absolutely corrected, is greatly ameliorated. The horse proprietor is thus, in some measure, protected from those accidents to which every stable is liable where a stud groom does not preside over the establishment, or where the owner is not remarkable for activity. The benefit resulting from heat may, in a certain measure, be secured where no steaming apparatus exists; but then two stout closely-shutting boxes of galvanized iron and a scoop, together with a large kettle, are required.

The food is placed in one of the receptacles; then so much boiling water should be poured upon it as experience has ascertained will be entirely absorbed. This done, the lid is closed, and the confined steam will partially cook the provender. The need for two boxes is to allow the hay, chaff, or grain to remain for a longer period subjected to the moisture, so that these substances may be thoroughly softened. This, however, is a more troublesome method, and the mode does not equal, in its results, the employment of steam where the vapor can be commanded; but, whichever practice is adopted, the following regulations should always be observed when the horses are fed.

The mangers intended for the reception of softened provender must be of a peculiar construction. The feeding compartment should possess a lid, which may be let down when the manger is removed. This last should always be taken out of the stable after it has been emptied; the interior should, at each removal, be thoroughly cleansed. The form of the receptacle should, in some measure, resemble a large pudding dish, and should offer no sharp angles, where the moist provender may accumulate and turn unpleasantly acid. A broad rim should surround the hollow, into which rim should be let two movable handles, the use of which is to expedite the manger being carried from place to place. The substance ought to consist of galvanized iron, but the interior may advantageously be coated with enamel.

Such an article, when placed in the wooden frame adapted to receive it, would be supported by its rim and kept by its own weight in the proper situation. When taken thence, it ought to be carried to the pump and cleansed, after which it is lodged in the provender house. When feeding time comes round, two helpers or stable-boys wheel two barrows to the door of the building and there wait. The head groom, attended by two others, enters the room, and with the scoop serves out the provender, each groom by turns holding a manger to be filled.

As the basins are loaded, these are arranged on the barrows; when the macerating box has been emptied, the grooms and helpers proceed upon their rounds. As each barrow stops before a door, the man who wheels it goes to the outside of the building, and, pulling a string, thereby raises the lid of the manger. He next proceeds to the entrance, and, having undone the fastenings, stands ready to admit the groom on his approach. This being done, the lower half is closed, and only opened again to allow of the groom’s egress.

Where a horse, of a known restless or ravenous habit, is confined, an external slide affords the means of supplying food. The manger, in such a box, should be replaced after it has been cleansed; for, as it is then empty, the food cannot be lost in consequence of the impatient hunger or of the nervousness of the animal. When the feeding hour comes round, the lid of the receptacle having been raised by pulling at the string, the shutter is lifted up and the provender shot through the open space. The steamed oats and chaff are not absolutely wet. The condition is rather less sticky than the same bulk of brewers’ grains. The substance, therefore, would readily fall down into the manger; but, as this mode necessitates that the incline be constantly scraped and cleaned, it is not, because extra trouble is enforced by it, recommended for general adoption.

Thus, without that excitement, delay, and ill humor which too frequently distinguishes feeding time in large establishments, each horse may be speedily supplied. All needed is a little drilling by the head groom, so each man may understand his office: that when fulfilling it, no one may obstruct the path of his fellow. The steaming or maceration of food may, by certain readers, be imagined to have originated in a desire to write pretty about horses. The author denies such a motive. Besides, the plan has no pretense to originality. It has for many years been practiced: but not in high-class stables. The writer, however, had an inducement, in truth, to recommend its general adoption, and, therefore, to some portion of the implied charge he may plead “guilty.”

All horse owners bitterly complain of the expense involved in the support of an animal. Nor is this surprising, when it is considered that one-half of its provender passes through the body of the animal undigested, being no more than so much material literally wasted; while a great portion of the remainder, though dearly purchased, is absolutely without nutriment. As a matter of economy, nothing should be placed in the manger which is not fit to be appropriated, or is not proper to nourish the strength. Such is the purpose of food: that is not food which does not feed, although, like the clay balls of the American Indian, it may be swallowed under the promptings of appetite; for when received into the stomach, like the substance alluded to, it probably will engender disorder.

Improper articles, therefore, presented as food, are in a double sense extravagant. In the first place, they do not sustain the life; in the second place, they entail the expense and loss of service which are inseparable from disease. Whether with horse or with man, everything offered as food should do more than merely appease the appetite. Unless it also uphold the vigor, devouring it is to waste the substance; and whatever adapts provender to the requirements of the digestion, cannot in reason be esteemed either extravagant or unnecessary. Of course, prepared food entails trouble. It cannot be forked into a rack or tossed into a manger speedily and without soil to the garments. There are plenty of reasons why grooms should cling to “hard meat;” and why this class of servants should object to prepared fodder.

Grooms, however, as generally treated, are most exceptionable domestics. Other servants are occupied throughout the day. The stable attendant turns the key upon the day’s duties at six o’clock in the evening. He is the most wasteful and costly of all the servants in or about the house. He wastes even that which Heaven has supplied in the greatest abundance. He wastes the air; since, to obtain warmth, he will not permit the horse to breathe other than atmosphere contaminated by the creature’s excretions. He wastes the quadruped’s strength; since he works it out of season, and is pleased to view the limbs, when not in action, “cribbed and confined” within the narrow limits of a stall. He upholds every abuse. He is opposed to every improvement. The sum which a fashionable groom costs his master is not to be estimated by the money paid to the individual as wages.

Hay, oats, and beans constitute the horse’s daily sustenance. These articles are quickly measured out, and do not soil the hand which apportions them. No doubt the groom will resist any change in so convenient a diet; but the subject, as it at present stands, concerns the liking of no person. It simply involves a moral duty. Nature has sent food in abundance and in variety. Is man justified, when he opposes nature’s obvious intention? When he first imprisons a life, and then dooms it to subsist for the period of its being on a monotony of provender, does he act rightly or wisely? What motive can be urged strong enough to warrant the pigmy in placing his insignificance between the creature and the liberality of the Creator?

Horses are not confined to England. Elsewhere the quadrupeds thrive on other food than hay, oats, and beans. The Arab, which stands first among the tribe, and is by some writers recognized as the original of the species, thrives on barley and on chopped straw. The American breed rarely taste oats, being fed on Indian-corn; as, likewise, are many animals inhabiting the south of Germany. Damaged wheat is eaten by agricultural teams all over the world. Rye is given as a supporting diet, when long journeys are traveled in Russia. In India, the cavalry charger exists chiefly on a grain called “gram.” In Ireland, the general feed is raw potatoes. In Iceland, dried fish is employed as provender; while during the needy period of the Crimean campaign, the English horses devoured the tails of their stable associates.

England, however, can supply or can import all the articles enumerated. Why, therefore, are oats preferred as the fittest food for horses? The kernel of this grain is covered by a solid coat of chaff. That chaff adds to the weight of the corn, and is charged to the purchaser as so much nutritious matter. It is not supporting; but it occupies space when first taken into the stomach. That space allows the dried kernels to swell without occasioning inconvenience to the animal; for the same moisture which enlarges the oat, also softens the husk, and allows it to be compressed with little absolute force.

As dry food, given separately, oats no doubt are the most wholesome provender for horses. Barley, rye, or wheat, if dry, would require a proportion of chaff to be mixed with those grains, so as to render either of them safe. Few things are more common in agricultural districts, than for animals to be injured by eating the latter kind of food. Quadrupeds often break loose, and gorge upon wheat; when the cereal, swelling after it has been swallowed, not unseldom ruptures the stomach and destroys the life. All dried grain should be moistened before it is placed in the manger. When properly soaked, barley, wheat, or rye are more wholesome than oats. Mingled with chaff, they are quite as beneficial, even when administered in the dried state. They are, moreover, when regarded in the view of weight for weight of nutriment, far cheaper than the vast majority of England’s favorite provender.

Might not the ship biscuit, which is now used only as a food for dogs, be profitably employed in the stable? It contains no husk. Its surface is not surrounded by dangerous hairs. It is all nutriment; and, being slightly moistened by the action of steam, would doubtless be consumed with avidity, after the first distaste, natural to timidity, had been overcome. This species of provender would be cheaper than the raw, hard, and unprepared grain, which might with advantage be superseded by crushed biscuit mingled with a proportion of chaff.

The action of heat is well known to change the nature of corn, while fermentation converts the starch of the raw seed into sugar. Might not a coarse kind of bread be made for the stable? This is no whim of the author’s imagination. Such a plan is common throughout Germany, where it is not unusual to see a carter feeding himself and steed off the same loaf. The groom might possibly resist such an innovation upon his rights and leisure; but a better order of dependents could be found, to whom the extra labor would merely prove a pastime.

Besides bread and biscuits, there are various roots which might prove very acceptable to a vegetable eater. The digestion of all such articles is promoted by the substances being cooked before they are presented. The fire extracts much of the water with which they all abound; heat also, in some measure, arrests the tendency to ferment. Why should such simple and natural food be denied to the creature which nature has sent upon this earth with an appetite fitted to consume it? There is ample room for choice in the list which has been indicated; so far as experiment has hitherto tested the value of such articles of food for horses, results have been obtained which seem to say the change might be generally adopted without danger.

A sameness of diet is known to derange the human stomach. Under such a system, the palate loses its relish, while a loathing is excited which destroys appetite. How often do grooms complain of certain animals being bad feeders! May not such disinclination for sustenance be no more than the disgust engendered by a constant absence of variety? Is there any large stable in the kingdom where one or more quadrupeds are not equally notorious for being ravenous feeders? The disinclination for the necessary sustenance and the morbid desire for an excess of nutriment are alike symptoms of deranged digestion. Some horses will devour large quantities of earth,--stones, worms, and all. Other animals will, if not muzzled, consume the litter of their stalls, no matter how tainted or filthy it may be. Strange tastes and unnatural likings are not unfrequently displayed by the inhabitants of the stable, among which, the instances cited are only the most common, all such whims being declarative of a diseased stomach.

The stable, its management, its formation, and its food, do further injury than merely to derange the digestion. Such may be its primary effect; but the stomach is to the animal as the root is to the plant. Through it all the nourishment is absorbed. By its healthful operation, the trunk, limbs, and strength are maintained. The rootlets cannot be diseased without the remotest twigs drooping and withering. So the deranged digestion induced by the modern stable leads to those fearful results which render life valueless; and which would terminate the existence, were the event not anticipated by the office of the knacker. Cribbing, weaving, quidding, surfeit, inflamed thorax, bowel complaints, broken wind, glanders, diseases of the legs and of the feet, with the majority of those injuries which are complacently recognized as accidents, may all be directly traced to that domestication which assumes a right to dictate how a life shall exist; the atmosphere it shall breathe; the space it shall occupy; and the substances it shall eat. Heaven, when this earth was first inhabited, did not create beings without investing them with rights, which man cannot abrogate at his convenience or set aside at his pleasure.

Of late years a class of traders has sprung up who profess to sell “patent foods,” or nostrums, which are to be cast into the manger with the corn. The economy and the marvelous effects of these secret preparations are loudly trumpeted; and from the numbers who now deal in such articles, these persons evidently find many customers. The mixtures consist of certain seeds and spices, which, in consequence of a relish being given to the monotony of manger diet, are eagerly devoured. They may even stimulate a false appetite; but, after a time, this effect will cease, and a loathing greater than the previous excitement will succeed. It is not, therefore, with surprise that the author hears of people, once very enthusiastic admirers of such additions, having, after some experience, relinquished these foreign aids to provender.

After all, “patent foods” contain matter which is as old as the hills. Grooms and coachmen have, for a longer period than is to be reached by the memory of man, had a confiding faith in certain charms, or nostrums. Such innocent people have long held secrets for working wonders--either by improving the coat, promoting condition, or creating spirit, etc. These mysteries were made up either as balls or powders. So general was this practice that certain veterinary surgeons kept particular articles solely to meet the demands of such customers. These ingredients, which were always retailed to ignorant people, late in the evening and with much secrecy, are, in very many cases, even to particulars, the same as are now the advertised “Blessings to Horse Owners.” There is, however, this difference: such things are, at present, purchased by the proprietor, whereas they formerly were secretly procured by the servant. The master esteems it commendable in him to administer such stuffs to his animals; whereas, a few years ago, the retainer was assuredly dismissed from his situation, if not punished, who was detected mixing any substance with the provender of his horses.

With regard to quantity in the matter of diet. All animals are not of one size, neither have all horses the same capacity of stomach. It is usual to measure out so much corn as the allowance proper for a horse, and to toss the quantity into the manger, without paying any attention to the desires of the creature. Such a custom may be extremely convenient; but it is very wasteful. Horses differ quite as much as men do in their appetites. By the common practice, one animal receives more than it requires, while another gets less than satisfies its cravings. Some slight notice of the body’s necessities should be insisted upon in those who pretend to comprehend the quadruped; and a master should instruct the servant that a creature endowed with life cannot be justly regarded as a manufacturing machine.

Then, as to the time of feeding. The horse is essentially a creature of the night. Man may shake up the straw and lock the stable door; but he does not, therefore, put the quadruped to sleep. Long hours of watchfulness are apt to generate habits of mischief, as well as lead to many indulgences which are no more than the results of want of employment, or the absence of amusement. The solitary confinement, now popular in prisons, in workhouses, and in some schools, is evidently wrong in principle; more especially wrong is it, when practiced upon children, as loneliness, acting upon immaturity of intelligence, invariably leads to an evil desire, which is, in penal prisons, spoken of as “breaking out.”

The horse has to pass twelve hours of weary time awake, without food and without supervision. Why should not one feed, at least, be given late at night? The present custom, of allowing the stable-man his time after six o’clock, is not beneficial to the servant; nor is it advantageous to a master. It merely encourages habits which are expensive. Expensive habits are not commendable or innoxious, where the weekly income is reckoned by shillings. A little more of wholesome employment would greatly improve the stable-retainer. The man is now corrupt; but those who suffer by his vices, expose him to that temptation which subverts the uprightness of his inclinations. After six, is a better hour for equine exercise than during the heat of the afternoon. Subsequent to the setting of the summer’s sun, during the cool, moist time of twilight, the quadruped would delight in being abroad; but, during the hours when nature formed her creature to roam, man, for a servant’s convenience, imprisons his slave; and, having perverted every intent or purpose of its existence, complains aloud because the laws of Creation are not made subservient to his perversity!

Could society be rendered a trifle more sympathetic and a little less conceited, horses would largely benefit by such a change in the dispositions of their masters. But this cannot be with present thoughts and existing institutions. The modern age essentially delights in knowing; it rather sneers at, than cultivates, feeling. England abounds in schools, and is thickly strewn with colleges. Education is much lauded; but the education at present given neglects the higher and the better part of the pupil’s mind. Everywhere knowledge is inculcated; nowhere is feeling cultivated. Nay, in the majority of existing educational establishments, the sensations are blunted and the emotions suppressed. Yet to elevate the feelings of its followers, is the purpose and the object of Christianity. Reverends and Dignitaries preside over places where, under pretense of being properly trained, youths are unchristianized. Most young men quit their tutors with the knowledge quickened; but where is the being who began life with the heart improved, or with the moral sense to guide him through the many obligations he was newly called to discharge, upon his becoming a member of this world’s society? The horse especially suffers under the consequences which result from the present evil tendency of the community.

To talk of the feelings, the instincts, and the inclinations of the quadruped, is to earn a character for maudlin affectation. The populace in the public highways hourly stare at or carelessly pass spectacles which, were the general mind really educated to understand what is before it, should awaken the keenest commiseration; but which are now viewed as sights that enliven the prospect. Whence is derived such hardness of heart? Whence springs such general and such a deep-rooted insensibility? No man seems capable of interposing a voice of expostulation, when the streets display living and feeling flesh creeping toward its early grave; when he beholds the animal driven slowly to death; when he looks upon an animated being, so worn and so dejected that it is the last office of humanity to summon the knacker to end a hopeless misery. The existence of a Society, with two constables, poorly counterbalances a national display of spurs and of whips. The foremost humanitarian, so the skin be whole, can afford to gaze upon a lean and spiritless horse, tired beyond man’s most exaggerated conception of fatigue, slowly creeping before some over-burdened cart, while the driver, whip in hand, adds his weight to the disproportionate load. Misery in front, brutality behind, and hard-heartedness around; while a fellow-inhabitant of earth totters onward to its death!

Yet, how universal is the lamentation about “the instability of the horse’s health,” and “the uncertainty of equine life!” Knowing what stables are, and having learned the air, the food, and the exercise allowed to maintain a horse’s existence, is there any just occasion for appealing to sympathy, because a life, maltreated in every essential, generally droops before the fate which abuse provoked? Forced into early toil; never seen abroad without the goad by its side; worked to the point of convenience, and nourished according to the dictates of economy,--is it wonderful that the majority of horses perish before their youth is matured? Is it not rather a justifiable reason for surprise that a country should boast of its morality, should exalt its civilization, should vaunt its Christian feeling--and, nevertheless, that its inhabitants should tacitly combine to practice the grossest inhumanity upon the meekest type of earthly sensibility?