110 
ON DRENCHING HORSES. 
I furthermore “ think” that Mr. Stewart is inexcuseably wrong, 
when he broadly says in one paragraph of his letter, “ We are 
liable for the price of every horse that our draught destroys and 
afterwards, that “ he who gives a draught when a ball will do, is 
answerable for the horse, if the draught either kills him or makes 
him broken winded.” If it had been true that draughts are some- 
what dangerous things, perhaps it would not have been quite kind 
to have armed a discontented and unreasonable employer with 
weapons to Avhich he probably would have recourse, right or 
wrong, and wrong a hundred times oftener than right. I do not 
“ think” that this is kind to his pupils, or to the profession ; but 
when the whole danger is a mere crotchet of his own, I do “ think” 
that there is little or no excuse for him. The poor veterinary 
surgeon has oftentimes enough to contend with when he happens to 
lose a patient belonging to some dissatisfied or peevish person. “You 
have been drenching my horse,” the owner will say ; “ and you 
have killed him by drenching him, and I shall expect you to pay 
me what I gave for him. Mr. Stewart was right — the Glasgow 
Professor says that drinks are dangerous things — and they have 
killed my horse and so the poor veterinarian loses his bill, and 
loses his employer, and loses the patronage of many others, and 
has, besides, a sum which he can hardly afford, unjustly to pay. 
These would be every-day occurrences. What veterinary surgeon 
in extensive practice could stand against them. It matters not that 
this diatribe against drenching is mere nonsense. Many a bystander, 
and many an unfortunate employer, would believe it, and it would 
be only at a ruinous expense that he would be able to rebut it. 
An unfounded prejudice like this would annihilate the whole pro- 
fession in less than a century. Therefore I do “ think” he is, here, 
perfectly inexcuseable. 
“ I have now, I expect, done with Mr. Markham,” says the Pro- 
fessor : I have perfectly annihilated so puny an opponent. I have 
always thought — but that, perhaps, was another of my foolish 
“ thinkings” — that professors were, ex officio, gentlemen, and that 
foremost among the qualities of a gentleman were courtesy and 
civility. Let that pass ! Mr. Stewart may have done with me ; 
but has he done with the profession, the frequent practice of most 
or all of whom he impugns, and whom he recklessly exposes to the 
possibility of many painful circumstances. 
Has he done with the “ students,” with whom he does not think 
it “ useful to argue” 1 Probably they, like me, would readily 
acknowledge and admire his talents when usefully directed ; but 
they will also expect and enforce an observance of the common 
courtesies of society. 
