Chapter VII: The Pony

As Mr. Mansfield and Arthur were returning from their walk, in a lane at a little distance from the house they were met by Charles, who had mounted a pony belonging to his grandfather: it had taken fright, and was running away at full speed. Mr. Mansfield stopped it by catching hold of the bridle; and as soon as he was satisfied that no mischief had happened, and Charles was sufficiently recovered to be able to talk, he inquired what had led him to try his skill in horsemanship.

_Charles on the Poney._

_London. Published by W. Darton Junʳ. Oct. 5, 1815._]

“Why, grandpapa,” replied Charles, “Robert had just come home with the pony, and left him at the gate; and I wanted to ride; so I got upon him, and he ran away with me.”

_Mr. Mansfield._ As you have never been used to ride, my dear Charles, you had better not get upon strange horses when you are alone. I wonder too that Plover should run away; he is in general very gentle.

_Charles._ At first he would keep his head over the gate, and I could not get him to move. So I hit him with a stick I had in my hand, and that set him off in a gallop.

_Mr. Mansfield._ I fancy all was owing to your want of skill; for Plover is a very quiet creature, and easily managed; but he will not bear ill usage; therefore, if you beat him much, I am not surprised at the accident.

_Arthur._ I am sure, grandpapa, Charles did not mean to be cruel, and use the horse ill.

_Mr. Mansfield._ He is so good a boy that I do not suspect him of it; and I only meant to give him a caution against another time. No, my dear children, I hope you will never take pleasure in wanton cruelty. My heart has often ached at the barbarities I have seen practised on poor dumb creatures.

_Arthur._ Once when I was walking with papa, we saw a man beating a horse about the head with the butt end of his whip, and my papa advised him not to do so; but he said it was his own horse, and he had a right to do as he liked.

_Mr. Mansfield._ Nothing can give a man a right to be cruel. We may, it is true, make what use we please of our beasts, as long as we treat them well, for they were made for our convenience; but God Almighty has given to them life and feeling the same as he has to us; and we make him angry with us whenever we use them ill.

“I often think, grandpapa, that it is very strange such large creatures as these,” said Arthur, patting Plover, who now walked quietly by the side of his master, “should suffer us to get upon their backs, and manage them as we please. They are much stronger than we are; and I wonder they do not drive us away, and not carry us, and refuse to draw our coaches and do every thing we like.”

_Mr. Mansfield._ It would be astonishing, Arthur, if we did not consider that our reason gives us a great advantage over all brutes. Some of them, it is true, are much larger, some much stronger, and others much swifter than we; but by means of our understanding we can conquer the strongest, and tame the fiercest of them.

_Charles._ How can we tame them, pray, sir?

_Mr. Mansfield._ By methods which they cannot resist. Plover is stronger than you, but a boy of your size who understands riding would be able to manage him. He would pull the bridle on this side, or on that, according as he wished him to turn; and as he pulled, the bit would hurt the horse’s mouth just enough to make him willing to go where he was wanted: therefore, by our knowing how to manage a bit and a bridle, we are more than a match for a horse in spite of his great strength.

_Arthur._ I understand you now, grandpapa. And I have something to tell you. As we were taking a walk a little while ago, a dog came barking and snapping, and I thought he was going to bite me; but my mamma called out, “Don’t be frightened, Arthur; pick up a stone to throw at the dog, and it will send him away.” So I did, and to be sure he slunk off at once. Now was not it my reason that made me conquer the dog, though the dog could bite harder than myself?

_Mr. Mansfield._ Exactly so. You see, then, that although our bodies are naturally weak and helpless, yet by our reason we are furnished with the means of strength and defence. So God has ordained; and therefore, though he will not suffer us to be cruel to any of his creatures, yet, as our Bible tells us, he said at the beginning of the world, that the fear and dread of man should be for ever upon all animals.

As Mr. Mansfield finished these words, they reached the stable yard, and Ralph came forward to unharness the pony.

“Plover must be shod to-morrow, sir,” said he, as he looked at one of his hinder feet.

“Is not it cruel, grandpapa,” asked Charles, “to drive nails into the horse’s feet?”

_Mr. Mansfield._ No, my dear, it is not. The nails only go into the hoofs, which are very hard, and have not any feeling; but if we did not put on these iron shoes, the hoofs, hard as they are, would soon be battered to pieces when they travel over rough and gravelled ground.

_Arthur._ Dead horses are of no use; are they, sir?

_Mr. Mansfield._ Their flesh is given to dogs; but the skin, when converted into leather, is used for making harness and some other things.