A _Skittish Horse_.
There goes a Story of a Restiff, Skittish Jade, that had gotten such a
Trick of Rising, Starting, and Flying out at his own Shadow, that he was
not to be Endur’d; for the Discipline of the Spur and the Bit was wholly
Lost upon him. When his Rider found that there was no Reclaiming of him
by the Ordinary Methods of Horsemanship, he took him to task upon the
Philosophy and Logick of the Bus’ness. ’Tis only a _Shadow_, says he,
that you Boggle at: And what is that _Shadow_, but so much Air that the
Light cannot come at? It has neither Teeth nor Claws, you see, nor any
thing else to Hurt ye: ’Twill neither Break your Shins, nor Block up
your Passage; and what are you afraid of then? Well says the Horse, (who
it seems had more Wit then his Master,) ’tis no new Thing in the World,
even for the greatest _Heroes_ to shrink under the Impression of _Panick
Terrors_. What are all the _Sprights_, _Ghosts_ and _Goblins_ that you
your selves Tremble at, but _Phantomes_ and _Chimera’s_, that are bred
and shap’d in your own Brain?
The MORAL.
_Nature and Reason have Fortify’d us, if we will but make use of our
Strength, against all Difficulties that can Befall us in this World. But
if we will stand Boggling at Imaginary Evils, let us never Blame a Horse,
for starting at a Shadow._