So little sympathy exists between man and horse, so little are the ailments of the animal really studied, that the likeness between certain diseases affecting the master and the servant have not been observed. =Megrims=, evidently, is a form of epilepsy; yet, to speak of an epileptic horse would, probably, induce laughter in any society. Notwithstanding which, man is not isolated in this world: he is associated with the creatures of the earth not only by a common habitation, but by similar wants and like diseases. He is united by nature to every life that breathes. His heart should feel for, and his charity embrace, every animal which serves him. He has his duty toward, and is bound by obligations to, every creature placed under his control. None are so subject to his will as is the horse; none have such powerful claims to his kindness and forbearance. The noble animal is begotten by man's permission; its course in life depends upon his word: for his service it surrenders everything--freedom, companions, and paternity--it relinquishes all. Its owner's pleasure becomes its delight; its master's profit is its recreation. It is the perfect type of an abandoned slave; body and soul, it devotes itself to captivity. It is sad to think how bitter is its recompense, when an obvious similarity, even in affliction, has not to this hour been recognized. Megrims, like epilepsy in man, will in certain subjects appear only during some kind of exertion. In others, it will be present only during particular states of rest. It is uncertain in its attacks. It is not understood; and of the many theories which have been advanced, none explain it. All horses may show megrims; some when at work, and some only while in the stable; others in the glare of day, and a few during the darkness of night; but of all, draught horses are the most liable to the malady. This may be because harness horses are subjected to the most laborious and most continuous species of toil. A horse fettered to a vehicle obviously must strain to propel as much or as long as the person intrusted with the whip thinks the animal should draw. Men's consciences, where their own convenience and another's exertions are the stake, generally possess an elastic property. It takes a great deal to stretch them to the utmost. An Arabian proverb says, "it is the last feather which breaks the camel's back;" but the English driver knows the entire pull is upon the collar, and he is moved by no considerations about the back. If the whip cannot flog the poor flesh onward, a shout and a heavy kick under the belly may excite the spasm, which, in its severity, shall put the load in motion.