had for many years been yearning to add to them a pet colt; that accordingly he had lately bought her one, and that she had tamed it: with uxorious pride he added "she could tame anything." As, however, we were perfectly convinced that his good wife, in spite of her comely, honest face, could not fascinate a horse's heart quite as easily as a husband's, we cross-questioned the latter for a considerable time, until he at last mentioned (as if it had nothing whatever to do with the subject) that when he purchased the yearling (whose mother had just died), not knowing how to bring it to his wife, with the assistance of one or two men he strapped together all its four feet, and then, lifting it into his cart, just as if it had been a calf, he trotted away with it, jolting it and jumbling it till he reached his home, where he uncarted it, and, in due time, with his own hands, restored to it the use of its limbs.

Of course this was a much stronger dose of discipline and subjection than Mr. Rarey has ever found necessary to administer, even to Cruiser; and there can exist no doubt it was this cooling medicine, this soothing mixture, which had produced the strange and salutary effects that had attracted us into the little yard. And thus, in every region of the globe, not only colts and horses, but all living animals, man especially included, surrender at discretion to any authority which, after a fruitless struggle—such a one for instance as induced Napoleon I., on the 15th of July, 1815, to seek for refuge on board H. M. ship Bellerophon from the allied armies of Europe—they find it to be utterly impossible to resist.


The differences between the character and conduct of a wild horse and a tame one are, we believe, not very clearly understood. It is generally conceived that in the difficulty of adhering, technically termed sticking to the back of a horse, there exist three degrees of comparison, namely:—

1. That it is rather difficult to ride a horse that has been broken in.

2. That it is exceedingly difficult to ride one that has been petted, patted, bitted, lounged, but not mounted.

3. That it must be almost impossible to mount and ride a wild horse just caught, that has never been touched by a human hand.

We will, however, humbly venture to assert that, in certain instances, the three steps of this little ladder might be reversed.

1. In a state of nature the horse is such a zealous advocate of our popular principle of "self-government," he is so desirous to maintain his "independence," that although he will allow almost any quadruped, even wolves and lions, to approach within a certain distance, yet the moment he sees a man, though on horseback, he instinctively turns his tail towards him, and, when followed, gallops away.

If, consequently, by the triumph of reason over instinct he be caught, or rather by the lasso tumbled head over heels, saddled, and if all of a sudden, to his vast astonishment, he finds sitting astride his back, with a cigar in his mouth, the very human being he has always been avoiding, his first and almost only feeling is that of fear; and accordingly, if he be retained by the bridle, instantaneously, by a series of jumps on all four legs, he makes impromptu his first hurried, untaught, unpractised effort to dislocate a rider. But if, instead of being as it were invited to perform these unsophisticated antics, he be allowed, or rather, by whip and severe spurs, be propelled to do what he most ardently desires, namely, run away, his power of resistance is over, and his subjection inevitable. For at the top of his speed, just as when swimming, a horse can neither rear, kick, nor plunge, and therefore at his best pace he proceeds on his sure road to ruin, until not only all his wind is pumped out of him, but after that, until twisted hide-thong and sharp iron have converted his terror of man into an ardent desire to be obedient to his will. In fact, like a small nation that has unsuccessfully been contending against a great one, he wishes to put an end to the horrors of war, and to sue for the blessings of peace.