eneficial
effect will be produced: the horse will discover that his fears were
groundless, and be less likely to start again from any similar cause.
After the first impulse of terror has subsided, the animal, if properly
managed, will even manifest an inclination to approach and examine the
object that alarmed him: but, while he is so doing, the rider must be on
her guard; for the least movement, or timidity, on her part,--the
rustling of a leaf, or the passing of a shadow,--will, in all
probability, frighten him again, and he will start round more violently
than before. After this, it will be exceedingly difficult to bring him
up to the object. Astley, however, whom we have before quoted, says,
that should the first trial prove unsuccessful, it must be repeated,
until you succeed; adding, that the second attempt should not be made
until the horse's fears have subsided, and his confidence returned.

A horse that is rather shy, may, in many cases, be prevented from
starting, by the rider turning his head a little away from those
objects, which, she knows by experience, are likely to alarm him, as
well before she approaches as while she passes them.

A lady, certainly, should not ride a horse addicted to shying,
stumbling, rearing, or any other vice: but she ought, nevertheless, to
be prepared against the occurrence of either; for, however careful and
judicious those persons, by whom her horse is selected, may be, and
however long a trial she may have had of his temper and merits, she
cannot be sure, when she takes the reins, that she may not have to use
her defences against rearing or kicking, or be required to exercise her
skill to save herself from the dangers attendant on starting or
stumbling, before she dismounts. The quietest horse may exhibit symptoms
of vice, even without any apparent cause, after many years of good
behaviour; the best-tempered are not immaculate, nor the surest-footed
infallible: it is wise, therefore, to be prepared.

Stumbling is not merely unpleasant, but dangerous. To ride a horse that
is apt to trip, is like dwelling in a ruin: we cannot be comfortable if
we feel that we are unsafe; and, truly, there is no safety on the back
of a stumbling nag. The best advice we can offer our reader, as to such
an animal, is never to ride him after his demerits are discovered:
although the best horse in the world, may, we must confess, make a false
step, and even break his knees.

When a horse trips, h