583 
brown’s sketches of horses. 
We select a few passages, the rightful property of which we 
immediately recollected:— 
Farmer's Series.—' The Horse, p. 3. 
When Sir Gore Ouseley travelled 
through Persia and the different 
countries of the east, he examined, 
among other relics of antiquity, the 
sculptures on the ruins of Persepolis, 
and he draws from them a curious 
and interesting conclusion as to the 
manner in which the horse was gra¬ 
dually subdued. 
According to the Anglo-Saxon 
computation, 48 shillings made a 
pound, &c .— ditto, p. 23. 
Capt. Brown , p. 24. 
Sir Gore Ouseley mentions in his 
travels through Persia, and various 
countries of the East, that he exa¬ 
mined all the relics of antiquity, 
and amongst others the fine sculp¬ 
tures on the ruins of Persepolis; from 
which he drew a conclusion at once 
interesting, and in some measure 
confirmatory of the opinion above 
noticed, that the horse has been gra¬ 
dually subdued. 
The Anglo-Saxons computed their 
money at 48 shillings to a pound, &e. 
—p. 65. 
Compare the description of a race. The plagiarism is per¬ 
fectly unique. The curiosity of the thing is a sufficient apology 
for its length. 
The horse enters into the spirit of 
the race as thoroughly as does his 
rider, and, without whip or spur, will 
generally exert his energies to the 
utmost to beat his opponent. It is 
beautiful to see him advancing to the 
starting-post, every motion evincing 
his eagerness. The signal is given, 
and he springs away—he settles him¬ 
self in his stride—the rider becomes 
apart and portion of him, every mo¬ 
tion of the arms and body corres¬ 
ponding with and assisting the action 
of the horse. On he goes, eager, 
yet husbanding his powers. At 
length, when he arrives at that dis¬ 
tance at which the rider knows that 
he will live home at the top of his 
speed, the hint is given, and on he 
rushes. Then the race in reality be¬ 
gins, aud every nerve is strained to 
head his competitor. Then too comes 
the art of the jockey, to keep the 
horse within his pace, and with ad¬ 
mirable give and take add to the 
length of every stride. Then per¬ 
haps the spur, skilfully applied, may 
be necessary to rouse every dormant 
energy. A sluggish, lurching horse 
may need more punishment than the 
humane observer may think justifi¬ 
able. But the natural ardour of the 
race-horse, roused, at the moment of 
It is well known that the horse 
enters into the spirit of the race with 
as much zeal as the rider himself, and 
will, in general, strain every nerve 
to outstrip his adversary. As he ad¬ 
vances towards the starting-post, all 
his motions betray the eagerness of 
his desire to start: when the signal is 
given, away he goes at a settled 
and steady pace. The rider becomes 
as it were a part of the quadruped, 
whose every motion should corres¬ 
pond to his movements. He proceeds 
forward, restrained to the pace his 
rider thinks best suited to his strength, 
and preserving his powers till the 
last spur: the rider knows well where 
to push him; he touches him, to indi¬ 
cate his wishes for a trial of his 
strength : the hint is speedily taken, 
when all his nerves are called into 
action, and he bounds to his utmost 
stretch. It sometimes, though rarely 
happens, that the spur becomes ne¬ 
cessary to rouse every energy; he 
knows its import, and every muscle 
is exerted to defeat, if possible, his 
competitor. If he has spirit, little 
application of these will be neces¬ 
sary; and if dull, all the punishment 
that can be inflicted w ill prove una¬ 
vailing. But, in general, the natural 
spirit of the race-horse, when roused 
