my heart, I wish them success; and yet they too frequently declare things to be cruel about which there is a question, whilst serious instances of cruelty and severe suffering appear either to escape their observation or meet with no rebuke or interference from them whatever. It is amongst the lower classes, who are uninfluenced by education and wise training in childhood, that cruelty is most prevalent and most to be combated. To treat a horse cruelly is most intolerable; and any one having the care of a horse would, were he to consider the matter, undoubtedly be conscious that to injure and ill-treat a beast from whom he expects so much, and upon whom he is so dependent, is false economy; since he is, in fact, injuring himself as he depreciates the value of his own property. And even if the horse does not belong to him whilst he is making use of it, it is undoubtedly to his advantage to obtain the best results he can during its hours of labour. In speaking of shoeing and my experience thereof, I would preface the remarks that I make in the chapter which appears in this work treating exclusively on that subject, by saying that under no circumstances, except in the treatment of disease, do I ever allow a smith to pare the sole, cut the frog, rasp the hoof, or otherwise tamper with my horses' feet. As regards writing on such subjects, I am convinced that too constant reference to authorities is apt to retard the originality of one's own ideas. Any one writing about things with which they are thoroughly well acquainted, and knowledge of which they have gained at the fountain head of all knowledge, which is "Fact," when desiring to expatiate on such subjects need not altogether submit to the restraint imposed by other people's opinions when they are qualified to express one for themselves. By taking a line of their own the subject is more likely to be treated with originality. * I refer to a further volume on the subject of Highways and Horses under contemplation, which may possibly follow this one. a The other day I sent up to town for a work I saw advertised on Climate, Weather, and Disease, published recently by Churchill, the medical publisher. I thought, of course, to receive a book giving the latest ideas on the subject, since the title gave me no reason to suppose otherwise; imagine then my surprise when I received from my booksellers a work treating upon the climate of Greece, as observed by Hippocrates, the Father of Medicine, who was born B.C. 460, just 2347 years ago. This, then, was the result of my desire for nineteenth-century opinions on the great subject of climate as affecting disease. This and other matters lead me to suppose that beneath the sun there is nothing new; and of this I am still further convinced, when reminded that we may seek of the Romans instruction in the science of road-making. I am persuaded, since this is the case, that no one can be certain of treating a subject with positive originality or even of giving utterance to an entirely original thought. What appears to people living at the present day as an invention of the very latest date may be only an old practice revivedsomething which existed centuries ago but was never completed or sufficiently established in people's favour to secure recognition; numberless, no doubt, are the things which we now regard as resulting from an advanced education, and the infinite information we possess, with which, if the truth were known, the ancients were well acquainted, as regards road-making: this is especially the case, since we might even at this period not be ashamed to follow in their footsteps or benefit by their wisdom. Any one who reads Xenophon's treatise on the horse cannot fail to be surprised at his remarks on this subject, since his advice upon grooming and the general care and treatment of the horse might well be, with a few exceptions, written at the present day; and the works of other Greek and Roman authors frequently convey this impression, particularly those of Horace and the younger Pliny. The Greeks were not very famous for their roads, and the Romans, who were, say very little about them. In fact, if we are to believe Xenophon, some of the Greek roads were in anything but a perfect state, since he says, when describing how a horse should be treated by his master, that "the ground outside the stable may be put into excellent condition, and serve to strengthen the horse's feet if a person throws down in it here and there four or five loads of round stones, large enough to fill the two hands, and about a pound in weight, surrounding them with an iron rim, so that they may not be scattered; for, as the horse stands on these, he will be in much the same condition as if he were to travel part of every day on a stony road." If Xenophon means that all the Greek roads were in this condition, one cannot award to the Greeks the same meed of praise that one does to the Romans; it moreover must be remembered that horses in Xenophon's time were not shod as we shoe our horses, but only with a light sandal which must have worn out very quickly if they were made to travel over roads the surfaces of which were strewn with the large stones that Xenophon describes. The earliest mention of a horse-shoe, according to Berenger, is that of Childeric, who lived A.D. 481, of which the figure is preserved in Montfaucon's Antiquities, and which resembles the shoes in use among us. But for any horse, whether shod or not, to travel over such roads for any great distance would have been utterly impossible, except he were perfectly sound; in fact, none but sound horses could have travelled on such roads, and these roads were eminently qualified to make a sound horse unsound, however perfectly his foot might have been protected. Considering that Xenophon lived 2,338 years ago, it is not surprising that the treatment of highways and horses should have been somewhat primitive. Although it was not very long after the period in which Xenophon lived that the Romans constructed roads far more nearly resembling our modern highways, and if we are to judge from the enormous time they have lasted, it is very evident that they were made in a they erected, which were famed for their exquisite finish and their architectural and constructive beauty; the one people were, in fact, a nation possessed of superlative artistic faculties, whilst the other was a nation of warriors and builders. Although the Romans have also left behind them much that was architecturally beautiful, yet what they did in the way of public works, although, as a rule, great, stupendous, massive, and overwhelming, was yet frequently deficient in architectural beauty. Had these two nations prospered at the same time, foregathered, and been consolidated under one government, each might have benefited by the prevailing taste of the other. Some of the Romans did, however, evince a strong inclination to follow the example of the Greeks, as is evident by the construction of their domestic buildings, particularly in Pompeii; but the sterner citizens of Rome regarded it as a matter for reproach when any Roman imitated the example of fastidious Greece, and affected Grecian tastes and habits. Appius Claudius, the constructor of the Appian Way, was chosen Censor in 312 B.C. After holding his office for eighteen months it was expected that he would relinquish it as ordered by the Emilian law, but this he was unwilling to do as he was engaged in some great national works; these works still remain famous as the Appian Way and the Appian Aqueduct. The Via Appia, or Appian Way or road, is well known even to many who have not visited Rome, by the amusing description given by Horace of his journey upon it. It led from Rome to Capua, passing through the Pontine Marshes to Tarracina, and then skirted the seaward side of the Volscian Hills, by the pass of Lautulæ, and went on past Fundi, Formiæ, and Sinuessa to Capua. There had been a track before in this direction, but Appius improved it and made it fit for military purposes. It was at first only 120 miles long, afterwards it led to Naples and the southern extremity of Italy. Horace, on the journey he describes, took fourteen days to travel 378 Roman miles; that he might have travelled faster had he chosen to do so is proved by other journeys that were undertaken by the Romans. Cæsar posted 100 miles a day, Tiberius travelled 200 miles in twenty-four hours, and Statius speaks of a man leaving Rome in the morning and being at Baiæ, 127 miles, before night. In fact, Horace says himself: Have but the will, be sure you'll find the way. The Roman emperors at a later period were induced to establish throughout their extensive dominions a regular service of posts. Houses were erected at a distance of only five or six miles; each of them was constantly provided with forty horses, and by the help of these relays it was easy to travel a hundred miles in a day along the Roman roads. Although the Appian Way was never destroyed, it was covered up, until the reign of Pius IX., beyond the tomb of Cæcilia Metella, and between the third and eleventh mile, Murray says that it was almost confounded with the surrounding Campagna, and was only marked out by the long line of ruined sepulchres which form such picturesque objects in that solitary waste. The work of restoration and excavation was commenced in 1850 and completed in 1853, and yet the whole cost of reopening the Appian Way did not exceed £3000; this included the removal of several feet of earth and rubbish that had accumulated during very many centuries. A wall was also built on either side of it to protect the monuments. Some doubts have been thrown upon the antiquity of the top covering or surface of the road, which Murray tells us is formed of polygonal blocks of lava, probably from Vesuvius, and by some it is supposed that the causeway over which Horace, Virgil, Augustus, and Germanicus travelled on their way to Brundusium, will one day be discovered beneath these blocks of lava, which some suppose to be the work of people living in the Middle Ages. However this may be, we must |