60 
THE HORSE.-NOS. 1 , 2 . 
horse; but the wealthier sportsman is somewhat at a loss what to do with 
his. It used to be thought, that when the animal had so long contributed, 
sometimes voluntarily, and sometimes with a little compulsion, to the 
enjoyment of his owner, he ought, for a few months, to be permitted to 
seek his ow n amusement, in his own way ; and he was turned out for a 
summer’s run at grass. Fashion, which governs every thing, and now and 
then most cruelly and absurdly, has exercised her tyranny over this poor 
quadruped. His field, where he could wander and gambol as he liked, is 
changed to a loose box; and the liberty in which he so evidently exulted, 
to an hour’s walking exercise daily. He is allowed vetches or grass occa¬ 
sional!}^ but from his box he stirs not, except for his dull morning’s round, 
until he is taken into training for the next winter’s business. 
“ In this, however, as in most other things, there is a medium. There are 
few horses who have not materially suffered in their legs and feet, before 
the close of the hunting season. There is nothing so refreshing to their 
feet as the damp coolness of the grass into which they are turned in May; 
and nothing so calculated to remove every enlargement and sprain, as the 
gentle exercise which the animal voluntarily takes while his legs are ex¬ 
posed to the cooling process of evaporation, which is taking place from the 
herbage lie treads. The experience of ages has shown, that it is superior 
to all the embrocations itnd bandages of the most skilful veterinarian. It 
is the renovating process of nature, w here the art of man fails. 
“The spring grass is the best physic that can possibly be administered to 
the horse. To a degree, which no artificial aperient or diuretic can attain, 
it carries off every humour which may be lurking about the animal; it fines 
down the roundness of the legs ; and, except there be some bony enlarge¬ 
ment, restores them almost to their original form and strength. When, 
however, the summer has thoroughly set in, the grass ceases to be succulent, 
aperient, or medicinal; the ground is no longer cool and moist, at least 
during the day; and a host of tormentors, in the shape of flies, are, from 
sun-rise to sun-set, persecuting the poor animal. Running and stamping 
to rid himself of his plagues, his feet are battered by the hard ground, and 
he newly, and perhaps more severely, injures his legs. Kept in a constant 
state of irritation and fever, he rapidly loses his condition, and sometimes 
comes up in August little better than a skeleton. 
“ Let the horse be turned out as soon as possible after the hunting season 
is over. Let him have the whole of May, and the greater part, or possibly 
the w hole of June; but when the grass fails, and the ground gets hard, and 
the flies torment, let him be taken up. AH the benefits of turning out, and 
that which a loose box and artificial physic can never give, will have been 
obtained, without the inconvenience and injury which attend an injudi¬ 
ciously protracted run at grass, and which, arguing against the use of a thing 
from the abuse of it, have been improperly urged against turning out at all.” 
TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
Mr. Elford’s favour is received. 
Mr. Pow ell will probably find that which he requires in our article on 
“ The Veterinary Materia Medica:” if he does not, we shall be happy to 
communicate with him privately. 
Mr. Proctor will find an answer to his enquiry in our Numbers for July 
and August, 1828. 
Our Friend from-, Herefordshire, w ill recollect that we are pledged 
not to insert any Communications, on a certain subject, which does not bear 
the signature of the writer. Our Friend’s letter would not disgrace him. 
Messrs. Brown, Cartwright, Castley, Gregory, Pritchard, and 
Proctor, in our next. 
