wild horse there was conscious of the
amount of his strength, his owner could have no business with him in that
vehicle; such light reins and harness, too; if he knew he could snap them
asunder in a minute and be as free as the air we breathe;" and, "that
horse yonder that is pawing and fretting to follow the company that is
fast leaving him, if he knew his strength he would not remain long
fastened to that hitching post so much against his will, by a strap that
would no more resist his powerful weight and strength, than a cotton
thread would bind a strong man." Yet these facts made common by every day
occurrence, are not thought of as anything wonderful. Like the ignorant
man who looks at the different phases of the moon, you look at these
things as he looks at her different changes, without troubling your mind
with the question, "Why are these things so?" What would be the condition
of the world if all our minds lay dormant? If men did not think, reason
and act, our undisturbed, slumbering intellects would not excel the
imbecility of the brute; we would live in chaos, hardly aware of our
existence. And yet with all our activity of mind, we daily pass by
unobserved that which would be wonderful if philosophised and reasoned
upon, and with the same inconsistency wonder at that which a little
consideration, reason and philosophy would be but a simple affair.

_Thirdly._ He will allow any object, however frightful in appearance, to
come around, over or on him, that does not inflict pain.

We know from a natural course of reasoning, that there has never been an
effected without a cause, and we infer from this, that there can be no
action, either in animate or inanimate matter, without there first being
some cause to produce it. And from this self-evident fact we know that
there is some cause for every impulse or movement of either mind or
matter, and that this law governs every action or movement of the animal
kingdom. Then, according to this theory, there must be some cause before
fear can exist; and, if fear exists from the effect of imagination, and
not from the infliction of real pain, it can be removed by complying with
those laws of nature by which the horse examines an object, and determines
upon its innocence or harm.

A log or stump by the road-side may be, in the imagination of the horse,
some great beast about to pounce upon him; but after you take him up to it
and let him stand by it a little while, and touch