themselves from performing. Mayhew says:—‘It obviously is folly for mortal pride to contend against those organisations which govern the universe. However, in the case of exercising power over the horse, centuries of defeat and ages of loss seem incapable of causing mankind to relinquish a hopeless struggle. The strife has been going forward almost from the commencement of time; nevertheless, human beings, though always beaten, press onward to perpetuate the contest. They scorn to retreat, and will suffer rather than own a victor; they will not, to make an advantageous peace, desert a silly custom or discard an ancient usage. They can sustain punishment; they can endure chastisement; but, like land crabs, when once upon the march, they cannot deviate from the line which they have adopted. They can abuse the master, but they cannot listen to the instructor. “Nature,” men exclaim in chorus, “is very stubborn.” “Horse property,” respond another gang of culpables, “is particularly hazardous!” All this noise, however, might at any moment be avoided, if the human race would only stoop to employ a little reflection. If man would not fight quite so obstinately, but merely think over the cause of combat, he might possibly be a gainer in happiness, as well as in pocket.’
Thus speaks Mayhew; but, unfortunately, he does not appear to have even tried the simple and inexpensive experiment of seeing what a horse might do without shoes. He had always been told that shoes of some sort were a necessity, and he took it
