_The Pony._
As Mr. Mansfield and Arthur were returning from their walk, in a lane
at a little distance from the house they were met by Charles, who had
mounted a pony belonging to his grandfather: it had taken fright, and
was running away at full speed. Mr. Mansfield stopped it by catching
hold of the bridle; and as soon as he was satisfied that no mischief had
happened, and Charles was sufficiently recovered to be able to talk, he
inquired what had led him to try his skill in horsemanship.
[Illustration: _Page 52._
_Charles on the Poney._
_London. Published by W. Darton Junʳ. Oct. 5, 1815._]
“Why, grandpapa,” replied Charles, “Robert had just come home with the
pony, and left him at the gate; and I wanted to ride; so I got upon him,
and he ran away with me.”
_Mr. Mansfield._ As you have never been used to ride, my dear Charles,
you had better not get upon strange horses when you are alone. I wonder
too that Plover should run away; he is in general very gentle.
_Charles._ At first he would keep his head over the gate, and I could not
get him to move. So I hit him with a stick I had in my hand, and that set
him off in a gallop.
_Mr. Mansfield._ I fancy all was owing to your want of skill; for Plover
is a very quiet creature, and easily managed; but he will not bear
ill usage; therefore, if you beat him much, I am not surprised at the
accident.
_Arthur._ I am sure, grandpapa, Charles did not mean to be cruel, and use
the horse ill.
_Mr. Mansfield._ He is so good a boy that I do not suspect him of it;
and I only meant to give him a caution against another time. No, my dear
children, I hope you will never take pleasure in wanton cruelty. My heart
has often ached at the barbarities I have seen practised on poor dumb
creatures.
_Arthur._ Once when I was walking with papa, we saw a man beating a
horse about the head with the butt end of his whip, and my papa advised
him not to do so; but he said it was his own horse, and he had a right to
do as he liked.
_Mr. Mansfield._ Nothing can give a man a right to be cruel. We may, it
is true, make what use we please of our beasts, as long as we treat them
well, for they were made for our convenience; but God Almighty has given
to them life and feeling the same as he has to us; and we make him angry
with us whenever we use them ill.
“I often think, grandpapa, that it is very strange such large creatures
as these,” said Arthur, patting Plover, who now walked quietly by the
side of his master, “should suffer us to get upon their backs, and
manage them as we please. They are much stronger than we are; and I
wonder they do not drive us away, and not carry us, and refuse to draw
our coaches and do every thing we like.”
_Mr. Mansfield._ It would be astonishing, Arthur, if we did not consider
that our reason gives us a great advantage over all brutes. Some of them,
it is true, are much larger, some much stronger, and others much swifter
than we; but by means of our understanding we can conquer the strongest,
and tame the fiercest of them.
_Charles._ How can we tame them, pray, sir?
_Mr. Mansfield._ By methods which they cannot resist. Plover is stronger
than you, but a boy of your size who understands riding would be able to
manage him. He would pull the bridle on this side, or on that, according
as he wished him to turn; and as he pulled, the bit would hurt the
horse’s mouth just enough to make him willing to go where he was wanted:
therefore, by our knowing how to manage a bit and a bridle, we are more
than a match for a horse in spite of his great strength.
_Arthur._ I understand you now, grandpapa. And I have something to tell
you. As we were taking a walk a little while ago, a dog came barking and
snapping, and I thought he was going to bite me; but my mamma called out,
“Don’t be frightened, Arthur; pick up a stone to throw at the dog, and it
will send him away.” So I did, and to be sure he slunk off at once. Now
was not it my reason that made me conquer the dog, though the dog could
bite harder than myself?
_Mr. Mansfield._ Exactly so. You see, then, that although our bodies are
naturally weak and helpless, yet by our reason we are furnished with the
means of strength and defence. So God has ordained; and therefore, though
he will not suffer us to be cruel to any of his creatures, yet, as our
Bible tells us, he said at the beginning of the world, that the fear and
dread of man should be for ever upon all animals.
As Mr. Mansfield finished these words, they reached the stable yard, and
Ralph came forward to unharness the pony.
“Plover must be shod to-morrow, sir,” said he, as he looked at one of his
hinder feet.
“Is not it cruel, grandpapa,” asked Charles, “to drive nails into the
horse’s feet?”
_Mr. Mansfield._ No, my dear, it is not. The nails only go into the
hoofs, which are very hard, and have not any feeling; but if we did not
put on these iron shoes, the hoofs, hard as they are, would soon be
battered to pieces when they travel over rough and gravelled ground.
_Arthur._ Dead horses are of no use; are they, sir?
_Mr. Mansfield._ Their flesh is given to dogs; but the skin, when
converted into leather, is used for making harness and some other things.