The more experience I acquire in the breaking of horses, the more convinced I become, that the so-called “nervousness” of animals that have been handled some time, is largely made up of impatience of control, and, in many cases, of active hostility. Without, for a moment, imputing intentional deceit to a “nervous” “old stager,” I make bold to assert that many crafty, dangerous brutes pose before their owners as ill-used victims of a too highly strung nervous system. Take, for instance, an aged horse, like many I have met, that snorts with apparent terror at anyone that approaches him, and is ready, on the slightest chance of reaching his mark, to strike out in front, or lash out from behind, if saddling or mounting him be attempted. His nervous emotion, the first time he was taken in hand, or the first time he began his unpleasant tricks, may have been thoroughly genuine; but its exhibition was evidently attended with the result of his more or less successfully resisting control. This act of insubordination having revealed to the horse the extent of his own power, which, to every animal, is a pleasurable sensation, was naturally repeated again and again, until the vicious habit was confirmed; although its necessity might have been, scores and scores of times, disproved by the saddling or mounting having been accomplished without the infliction of any pain to the horse, however great the trouble may have been to the groom or rider. In the case I have mentioned, the fault lay with the person who had charge of the animal, and who ought to have, then and there, mastered him the very first time he shewed resistance to a legitimate order. Whether the continued failure to resist discipline was caused by the infliction of cruelty, or by the exhibition of incompetence on the part of the man, matters little as regards their detrimental result on the animal, except, that unsuccessful punishment always aggravates a vice to a deplorable extent. I am inclined to think that really nervous horses are not as naturally “game” as their more placid fellows; while I am thoroughly convinced, that the majority of the _pseudo_ nervous sort are sulky, treacherous brutes. I am, however, ready to admit that there are many exceptions to the rule I have ventured to lay down. At the same time, it would be most unwise to ignore the fact that the repetition of any trick, however it may be caused, the practice of which renders the animal difficult of control, has an increasingly bad effect on him the longer it be continued.