that the idea of fully examining the other side of the question never seems to occur to them; although, when it is brought to their notice, some are found willing to listen to argument and profit by it.
A weekly, having the date of March 7, has the following paragraph:—‘Whilst on the subject of animals, I should like once more to draw attention to the terrible suffering which greasy wood pavements entail upon the poor horses. The scene on Ludgate Hill is often heartrending. The poor beasts, struggling madly to gain a foothold on the slippery surface, strain and tremble and sweat, and often seriously injure themselves. It is no uncommon thing for the whole traffic to be stopped by a heavily-laden waggon, which the horse, with the ground slipping from under him, vainly endeavours to drag up the hill. Oaths, kicks, and brutal beatings the poor beast gets; but it never seems to strike any one that a little sand or fine gravel thrown in the morning over these wood pavements would conquer the difficulty. Asphalte and wood require keeping clean where there is much traffic. The present object of the authorities seems to be to keep them filthy. One would imagine they were big share-holders in a joint stock horse-slaughtering company.’
For some days preceding the appearance of this paragraph the weather had been finer than usual, and the watering carts had been at work. If, then, under the best of circumstances things were thus, what must they be on some of the days for which London is so famous?
