After all, however, these cases are mostly very unsatisfactory. They would prove less so were tracheotomy more generally resorted to; but, in some instances, the horse seems to be rendered stupid by the disease. Instead of courting man's assistance and yielding up itself to his will, it appears to resent every effort made for its relief, as though all it desired was permission to die in peace. The beautiful resignation and the pleading solicitude for human sympathy appear to be lost. The brain evidently is affected; and when it is known the purpura hemorrhagica consists in universal congestion, no wonder will be expressed that an organ so sympathetic as the brain is affected during this disease.

The condition of the animal suffering from this terrible disorder is indeed dreadful. If the brain be oppressed, the body is deformed out of all recognition. The beauty of the animal is lost, and the carcass becomes so misshapen as to be commonly compared to a hippopotamus. The legs share with the trunk the general disorder; and from these, as from other parts, blood and serum will exude.

STRANGLES.

Strangles, in its effects upon the body of the horse, is similar to measles in the human being. Both are diseases peculiar to the young; both sometimes occur after the attainment of maturity; and both are dangerous in proportion as their advent is delayed. Both, also, are attended with evil consequence if driven inward, or if any irregularity warps the even tenor of their course.

Here, however, the similarity ends. Strangles is developed as an abscess under the jaw; measles appears as a rash all over the body. Both, however, are eruptive, and both are cast outward at some expense to the system.

Strangles is peculiarly the property of the rich man's horse. It is spoken of as relieving the body of some matter prejudicial to the after-health. The author has known several poor men's horses which never exhibited strangles. Those animals certainly seemed none the worse for escaping the disorder. Nevertheless, it may relieve the body of the high-bred and tenderly-nurtured animal of something which might prove injurious if retained, although every quadruped does not appear to need such a cleansing. And the man must have some extraordinary faculty who would enter a certain stable, and point out the creatures which had suffered and which had escaped the strangles. Still, it may be, and probably is, an effort of nature to adapt the body to a sudden change of circumstances, though whether these circumstances are natural or induced remains to be proved.

Highly-bred horses are cared for from the moment of their birth. Up to a certain period—varying in different parts of the country and in different animals—the colt is allowed to roam the field. All at once, however, it is taken up, and its education commences. From the dew, and from the grass under its feet and within its mouth, the colt is suddenly removed to dry food, and is imprisoned inside a hot and fetid stable. Nature rebels against such treatment. The strangles is the consequence, after which the poor captive becomes better adapted to its unnatural situation.

Strangles is ushered in by slight general indisposition, which, however, does not pass away. Sickness rather hovers over the colt than plumps directly upon it. The animal is then, in stable phraseology, "breeding strangles." After a few days, a stiffness of the neck is conspicuous; subsequently an enlargement can be perceived. It is, at first, very hard, hot, and tender. A discharge from the nose appears. The symptoms of general disease become aggravated. The throat is sore; the breathing is oppressed; the discharge is copious; the coat stares; the appetite is lost; the creature stands, with eyes half closed, the picture of mute distress.

At length the tumor softens. It becomes prominent at a particular spot. Upon this place the surgeon makes an incision. A pint or more of pus escapes, and the animal quickly recovers.

Such is the history of a case of strangles, as the disorder generally develops itself. Of course it will vary in degree, though in every instance a sufficient similarity will be apparent to guide the student.

With regard to treatment: never purge or bleed a colt when it exhibits a dubious sickness. It may be "breeding strangles," and the strength then will be needed to cast off the disease. Give all the nourishment the animal can imbibe. If food should be rejected, whitened water, or boiling water into which some flour has been stirred, or thin gruel, is useful for that purpose. A little green-meat is generally relished. But, if the colt is not frightened at the approach of a stranger, the food should be offered, little at a time, by the hand—not forked into the rack or cast upon the ground, for the animal to breathe upon and then turn from with disgust. Corn, crushed and scalded, may be allowed, if it can be eaten. No grooming must annoy the feverish body; the clothing must be light; the bed should be ample, and scrupulously clean; the loose box ought to be large, perfectly well drained, with every door and window open during the day, and only partly closed at night.

Some persons blister the abscess, and then apply a poultice over the blistered part: to this practice the author objects. In the first place, sufficient friction cannot be employed to insure the effects of a blister. In the second place, a blister is said to be endowed with the properties of bringing forward or of dispersing a tumor. In strangles, one of these processes alone is desirable, the dispersion being much to be dreaded. In the third place, though oil and water are in their natures antagonistic, yet water will creep through a coating of oil, and warm water, especially, thickens the cuticle. This action may possibly prevent the vesicatory from reaching the cutis, should the emollient be applied immediately after the blister. In the last place, the weight of the poultice is likely to stretch the cloth in which it is applied; when, being removed from the skin, the cold air of course finds its way between the poultice and the tumor. Cold is not desirable where we seek to promote suppuration; but cold is increased by damping a surface, and allowing it to be swept by a current of air. Evaporation then takes place, and the warmth is decreased by many degrees.

The writer prefers gently stimulating with the following mixture:—

This may be applied, by means of what cooks term a "paste brush," morning, noon, and night, until soreness is produced. It will, at first, seem cool, and be grateful to the part. After every application, have ready three pieces of flannel—no house-cloth, no open and thin stuff, which some economical housewives presume to think is good enough for the stable, but soft, thick, and warm, new flannel, such as any feeling person would bind around a sore and inflamed part. Put these over the embrocation, and bind all on with a flannel eight-tailed bandage. An eight-tailed bandage is simply a long piece of flannel having three slits at either end. Its use, and the manner of applying it, is shown in the above illustration.

When the tumor points, the surgeon takes with him two assistants into the box where the horse is confined. One proceeds to apply the twitch; this twitch is an instrument of torture—it is a strong stick, having a short loop of cord at one end. The sensitive upper lip of the horse is grasped by the assistant's left hand, which has previously been thrust through the loop of the twitch. The loop is next slid over the left hand, and with the right hand placed upon the lip, while the fellow-assistant, by twisting the stick round and round, tightens, and thus pinches into a ball this most sensitive lump of imprisoned flesh; for in the upper lip of the horse resides the sense of touch—anatomy shows us it is more largely supplied with nerves than any other part in the body.

The attendant, who had first put on the twitch, gives the stick to his companion, and lifts up one of the animal's legs. The horse, with its attention engrossed by the agony of its lip, is rendered disinclined to motion, and is comparatively powerless while standing on three legs. The surgeon then takes an abscess knife, not a lancet, which is a coarse and clumsy instrument—the lancet simply punctures, whereas in an abscess more is desirable. A free opening is always wished for; and where living flesh is to be operated upon, it is, for very many reasons, preferable to do all the cutting at once. The knife is held lightly in the hand, with the thumb resting on the back of the blade. The horse, when it feels the incision, is apt, spite of the twitch, to drag suddenly backward. Thus it pulls against the back of the knife, and no injury can occur; whereas, with a double-edged lancet, an ugly and a dangerous wound has, by the motion of the animal, been inflicted. The thumb, in this situation, also serves another purpose. It allows only so much of the blade to enter the abscess as is above the nail of the member—this is usually about three-quarters of an inch. The thickness of the skin, increased by disease, requires so much; and if not, the pus, accumulated beneath the skin, will save the more important parts from being injured.

The leg being raised and the head guided upward by the elevation of the twitch, the operator approaches the horse. He looks well at the part he has to open, and mentally determines where to make his incision. He also ascertains the extent of the tumor. This is necessary; for if the swelling be to one side, a single incision will be sufficient; but if this extend (as is usually the case) from right to left, two incisions are requisite. In either case the surgeon seizes the left rein with the left hand, and, placing his right hand in a proper position, by a short and simple motion of the wrist the knife is driven through the skin.

The horse, during every operation, is usually blinded. Darkness invariably increases terror, and is unnecessary, since the horse cannot see what is being done under its jaw; nevertheless, the creature is obviously amused by watching the people about it. From the behavior, we have no reason to imagine the animal draws any conclusions. To blind the horse is, therefore, to increase to fears of excessive timidity. It is easily accomplished. Double a handkerchief into close longitudinal folds; then tie either end to the sides of the bridle, so that the handkerchief may rest upon the eyes, and the object is attained.

Every case of strangles will not be settled so readily. Occasionally the soreness of the internal throat will cause much annoyance. The animal is continually gulping its saliva. When it attempts to drink, the fluid flows back through the nostrils. The animal will not eat, and the strangles or tumor may threaten to be absorbed. In such cases the food must be carefully prepared. No mashes, made by merely pouring hot water into a pailful of bran, stirring it round once or twice and splashing the mess into the manger, will now do. Even malt mashes will not answer the purpose. Good gruel must be carefully prepared and frequently changed. The drink must also be varied, so as to tempt the sick stomach,—as a general rule, equal parts of grits, (not oatmeal,) linseed meal, bean or pea flour, may constitute the ingredients. Let the drink be always just warm when placed before the animal. Sometimes clover-hay, or simple hay tea, may form the basis of the drink; sometimes one or other of the constituents may be withdrawn. Too much care cannot be taken of the horse at this period. Good nursing is now the most effectual, as well as the cheapest medicine; and all warranted expense at this time is a saving in the end. The breathing also is frequently most acutely distressed. In severe cases the symptoms are so alarming as to demand the immediate performance of tracheotomy. This the surgeon is forced to have recourse to, although at the time he knows it will only be temporarily required. When, though distressing, the disease is not of so fearful a character, relief may be sometimes obtained by mingling steam with the air which the animal inhales, and casting upon the source of vapor ten or fifteen drops of the etherial tincture of phosphorus. This last artifice may be renewed every quarter of an hour should it appear to afford even the slightest relief.

Avoid physic as much as possible. In strangles, purge and kill is the rule. Open the bowels, if it be imperative, by green-meat; if that should not answer, let them alone, however confined they may be. Let the fever rage, but do not potter with one drug and another "to cool" the body.

Some horses suffer terribly when they have strangles. The reasons for such a difference have not hitherto been ascertained; but doubtless science will one day discover them. In bad cases the tumor appears under the throat, but it is larger than usual, and longer in maturating than is customary. Tears, frequently mingled with pus, flow from the eyes; a copious discharge runs from the nose; the pendulous lips are disfigured by long bands of thick saliva; the coat is dull, erect, and rusty; the heavy lids close the sight; often the nostrils become dropsical; the breathing is fearful; the tumor presses against the larynx, and a roaring sound is audible at each inspiration.

For this case no more must be done than was directed for the milder form of the disease. The animal may be gently cleansed, but this office must be tenderly performed; for the filth will do far less harm to the horse than the provocation of irritability. Gruel, repeatedly changed, should always be within easy reach of the mouth; the pail should be hung upon a hook, so that the head may not be necessarily raised to reach the nourishment. A little of the sediment, strained from the gruel, should be placed in the manger, as some quadrupeds will only eat; others will only drink; a third class will be content with such nourishment as they can suck up from the more solid form of slops; a fourth may all but starve, yet no coaxing will induce the sufferers to look at aught but the dry, hard food, which they dare not swallow. Most, however, will feed on green-meat, and this should always be at hand. Should the animal become worse, tracheotomy may be necessitated. Then stout and treacle should be liberally horned down—half a pound of treacle being mingled with the quart of stout, and the whole mixed with a quart of good thick gruel. However, give at one time only so much as can be taken without distress being occasioned.

Such cases, bad as they may appear, are not to be despaired of; nor are the tumors, on any account, to be opened before they have thoroughly maturated. Hasty incisions may throw the abscesses back upon the system. When that is the case, real danger is provoked; the horse seldom thrives afterward.

In some instances the tumor will burst internally. It may find egress through the nostrils; but if it burst into the large guttural pouches of the animal, the pus may be there imprisoned until it becomes inspissated, and, by the motion of the jaws, kneaded into numerous distinct masses, resembling small sea-side pebbles. Such has been witnessed, but should hardly now occur; since Professor Varnell, of the Royal Veterinary College, has invented an instrument by means of which these cavities can be effectually injected, and even washed out.

Besides those varieties already mentioned, there is yet another form of strangles: that is, where no tumor appears beneath the jaws, but several form on other parts of the body. The greatest number of abscesses the author has heard of, being developed on one body, is seven. They generally contained about a pint of pus; and, if the direction given for the treatment of strangles be observed, the animal will usually recover upon these being opened.

The great danger of strangles is in the disease fixing upon any internal organ; the horse is of no use afterward. It sinks from bad to worse, till it resembles the illustration appended to "Chronic Indigestion." The best thing which can happen in such a case is the death of the wretched creature. To prevent so lamentable a termination to a generally mild affection, nurse with every possible care, and begrudge no expense which can add to the comfort of the patient.

GLANDERS.

This is the most loathsome disease to which the horse is subject. It is provoked by stimulating food combined with exhausting labor. It was formerly very common in posting stables; long stage teams were seldom free from it. The London omnibuses, by night, are said to drive glandered horses, and the proprietors of those vehicles are reported to keep glandered stables.

In all of such cases the food is of the best and most stimulating description—twenty pounds of oats and beans with five pounds of hay, per day, are needed to keep a glandered horse in working condition. Gentlemen formerly used to fee the post-boy to "push along." We well remember the quivering forms of gasping flesh which were unharnessed whenever the old coach changed horses.

Omnibuses are very heavy; the constant stoppages make the draught still more severe. The animals which appear in front of these vehicles are small in size, rarely sixteen hands high, but the best and strongest their proprietors can afford. A little breed is desirable, as a coarse horse would lack the courage to take the collar and to persevere. The age of these horses is generally three years when first bought in. Some animals have worked through many seasons, but such instances are exceptions. Numbers annually yield to the drag upon the constitution. These are sold for what they will fetch. But several, either from weakness or some other cause which our science yet lacks perception to discover, annually become glandered.

Youth and high feeding, conjoined with excessive labor and damp lodging, will certainly produce glanders. Age, starvation, and ceaseless toil generally induce farcy. The glanders and the farcy, however, are one and the same disease, modified by the cause which originates them. Glanders is the more vigorous form of the disorder; farcy is the slow type, fastening upon general debility.

These disorders have been the scourges of horse-flesh. They still are the inheritance which man's willing slave gains by service to a harsh and cruel master. Men, to their fellow-men, sometimes confess, without any sense of shame, that they buy cheap horses to work them up. It is, in some cases, esteemed more economical to exhaust the life than to purchase and to maintain that number of animals which would be equal to the labor. This horrible system is in daily operation in a country professing Christianity!

Glanders is provoked by human depravity. Had people common feeling for the life over which they are given authority—would they only admit, in its largeness and its truth, that "the laborer is worthy of his hire"—the disease might, in one year, become a tradition.

At present the affection exists as the dread of every horse proprietor. It is highly contagious—all owners of horses know this. The stable may be scrupulously clean, yet the poison may have been lodged there by the last inhabitant. It is not only contagious to horses, but it is equally dangerous to men. Three sad instances of this fact have come to the author's knowledge. Two respectable gentlemen, moving in good society, were each contaminated, and both pitiably perished of this terrible disease. They were no stable-helpers, moving and living among suspicious beasts, but individuals whose avocations did not oblige them to mix with horses—gentlemen of professional standing, who were inoculated they knew not how. Mr. Gowing, of Camden Town, informed the writer, of a boy who once went from a shop to stand at the head of a pony the master of which wished to make a purchase. The animal, while the boy was so placed, cleared its nostrils, and a portion of the ejected matter flew into the lad's eye. The handkerchief removed the soil, and the accident was soon forgotten. However, the poor youth was glandered, and became a patient in the University Hospital.

Such facts sufficiently prove all men have an interest in opposing any conduct likely to generate so horrible a scourge. Man, as a community, is answerable for the comfort of every creature intrusted to his charge. He may refuse to accept the conditions of the trust, but he cannot escape the responsibility. In proof of the truth of this conclusion, glanders is now recognized as one of those incurable diseases, generated by neglect, to which the human being is liable, in every hospital throughout the kingdom.

Why is the legislature behind the medical profession in the extent of its recognitions? Any man may now, according to law, drive or ride a glandered animal through the crowded streets of any town in the three kingdoms. He may, without fear of punishment, endanger the lives of the unsuspecting wayfarers, whom it is the especial province of the Parliament to protect. Why should not the glandered stable be detected, and the animals, dangerously diseased, be slaughtered? Why should any man be allowed to retain, and openly use as property, that which is perilous to society; and wherefore should law protect him, when harboring pestilence for the sake of profit?

That the foregoing observations are correctly based, is proved by the pest becoming less common as the public have morally improved—only, why leave so immediate an evil to be cured by so slow a process? Years ago, an affected horse, led through the streets, was an almost hourly occurrence. Since that time we have improved, and such sights are no longer common. Therefore the morality here alluded to is not of limited meaning. It implies improvements in drainage, and all those innovations by which life has been made more secure. He is the truest benefactor of mankind who lessens the ills to which existence is exposed.

Glanders is the phthisis of the horse. Phthisis is, in some countries, esteemed even more dangerously contagious than glanders and farcy are in England admitted to be. Man, however, employs a handkerchief; the plates off which he feeds are washed. The manger is never cleansed; and the discharge soils the boards on which the corn reposes.

The lungs of very many horses, however, which have perished of the pest, will exhibit numerous tubercles; these, in the human subject, are considered conclusive evidence as to the existence of phthisis.

By some practitioners glanders is esteemed a purely local disorder. In books, schools, and elsewhere, the running from the nose has been pointed out as the disease itself; and the situation of the affection is said to be the frontal sinuses—hence the dependence placed in various caustic injections forced up the nostrils.

A very little reflection will, however, enable the reader to take a more extended view of the malady. When glanders exists, a staring coat generally declares the skin affected; and the customary termination of the disorder—farcy and dropsy—proves more than the surface of the body to be implicated. The lungs—or, at all events, the air-passages—never escape. Loss of flesh and swelling of the glands demonstrate the absorbent system to be involved. Absence of spirit and inability to work, toward the close of the affection, are evidence the nervous system does not escape. The secretions are derived from the blood; and the blood, it has been shown, by a silly experiment, is capable of generating the malady. Their pallid aspect, after death, convinces us the muscles were far from healthy. Of all parts, perhaps, the abdominal contents are least diseased, though the marked decay of appetite does not favor such an opinion. What disease, then, can be considered a constitutional disorder, if one which involves so many and such various structures is to be regarded as a strictly local affection?

A horse, full of corn, and in the prime of health, if unfortunately inoculated with the virus of glanders, generally has the disease in its acutest form: the animal may be dead by the expiration of a week. Other quadrupeds, in which the disorder is provoked by natural causes, may, on the contrary, exhibit glanders in the most chronic shape. If the exciting cause has a strong constitution to act upon—especially if the horse, soon after imbibing the poison, be removed to easier work or a more dry abode—the malady may exist for years in a subtle, undeveloped form. A thin discharge only may run, irregularly, from one nostril. At times no fluid may appear, nor is the liquid ever copious. One of the kernels, or lymphatic glands, situated between the branches of the channel, may be more or less fixed. But, otherwise, the horse is active, full of fire, and exhibits nothing to excite suspicion. During all this time the creature may be endowed with a fatal power of communicating the disease. Horses, having received the taint from such a source, may die within the week, while the cause of the mortality eats well, works well, delights the master's eye by its thriving appearance, and in such a condition even may exist for years.

In the early stage it is difficult to pronounce positively upon a case of glanders. Ulceration of the nasal membrane would be confirmation of the worst doubt; but the ulceration may be situated so high up as to defy all our efforts to distinguish it. Yet running from the nose may be perceptible, and the gland may be fixed to the jaw. Both of these symptoms, although lawfully provoking our fears, are frequently attendant upon aggravated or upon prolonged colds. The only lawful test, in such cases, is the administration of three doses of solution of aloes, eight ounces to the dose—allowing three days to elapse between each. If the horse be glandered, before the last purgative has set the real nature of the malady will be apparent in the aggravation of the symptoms. If glanders be not present, a little careful nursing will generally remove all effect of the medicine.

The glanders is mostly ushered in by febrile disturbance. The appetite is bad, the coat stares, and the pulse is quickened. A mash or two, however, apparently sets all right, and the matter is forgotten. Soon afterward a slight discharge may issue from one nostril; but it is so very slight, it excites no alarm. One of the lymphatic glands, on the same side as the moist nostril, alters in character. It may remain loose and become morbidly sensitive. Usually, however, it grows adherent to the jaw, turns hard, insensitive, and, from being wholly imperceptible in the healthy animal, enlarges to about the size of half a chestnut.

At a later period the discharge, retaining its clear appearance, becomes more consistent, and, to a slight degree, the hairs and parts over which it flows are incrusted. It subsequently adheres to the margin of the nostril, and then, in the transparent, albuminous fluid may be seen opaque threads of white mucus. This marks the second stage.

The next change takes place more rapidly. The transparent fluid entirely disappears, and in its place is seen a full stream of unwholesome pus. At this time there is some danger of glanders being mistaken for nasal gleet. A little attention will, however, rescue any person from so imminent a peril. The smell of glanders is peculiar. It is less pungent but more unwholesome, suggesting a more deep-seated source, than characterizes the disease with which it has been confounded. The ejection of glanders, moreover, is obviously impure; whereas that of nasal gleet generally flows forth in a fetid stream of thick and creamy matter.

When the third stage is witnessed, the disease is rapidly hurrying to its termination. The membrane of the nose changes to a dull, leaden color. The margins of the nostrils become dropsical, and every breath is drawn with difficulty. The defluxion exhibits discoloration. Scabs, masses of bone or pieces of membrane, mingled with patches of blood, next make their appearance; and the internal parts are evidently being broken up by the violence of the disorder.

The above description of filthy facts is, probably, sufficiently explicit; but to render the foregoing more clear, the following diagram is appended. The reader will perceive there are two kinds of tubercles—the large and the small. One is no bigger than a grain of sand; the other is as large as half a pea. The disease which follows both is the same,—is equally contagious and is equally fatal. It will also be remarked, the membrane appears swollen and partially discolored in the case of glanders. It loses its bright, fleshy, or healthy hue; and it assumes a dull, heavy, and dropsical aspect. It will likewise be observed that comparatively few blood-vessels are ramifying upon the affected membrane, which sign, in a well-marked case, is often so obvious as to become a leading indication of the disorder.

It is usual for low dealers, when a tubercle in the vesicular stage is detected, to assert that it is only a piece of mucus. To test such assertion, wrap a portion of tow, or anything soft, round a small stick, and wipe the place. If it be mucus, it will be removed; but if it remains, the reader may rest assured as to its nature. When an ulcer is seen, the dishonest salesman will laugh, and ask if that is all the inspector can discover—declaring the horse recently hurt itself against a nail. The interior of the nostril is a very sheltered part, and, therefore, very unlikely to be wounded. Yet so that the reader may be prepared to recognize such reality, in spite of the hard swearing and loud jocularity which is designed to confuse him, a diagram of a portion of the nostrils, covered with healthy membrane and showing the veins natural to the part, also displaying the shapes and appearances of wounds—when they occur—is inserted.

The reader has been told what constitutes glanders. He has been instructed how to recognize its more marked indications. There, however, remains to teach him the manner in which a suspected horse should be handled or examined.

The animal's head should be turned toward the strongest light obtainable; if toward the blaze of the noonday sun, so much the better. The examiner should then place himself by the side of the creature's head, not in front, but in a situation where, though the animal should snort, he is in no danger of the ejected matter falling upon him. With one hand the upper and outer rim of the nostril should be raised; when, grasping this part between the finger and thumb, no fear need be entertained. The case would be something more than suspicious, were any risk of contamination incurred.

The wing of the nostril being raised, the examiner must note the appearances exposed; this he will best do by knowing where to look and what to expect. His eye has nothing to do with the skin nor with the marks that appear upon it. The opening of the lachrymal duct often challenges observation by being well defined and particularly conspicuous; but that natural development does not concern him; to that no attention must be given. The inspection must be concentrated upon the membrane more internally situated than the skin seen at the commencement of the nostrils. The skin, moreover, suddenly ceases, and is obviously defined by a well-marked margin; there is, therefore, no difficulty in distinguishing the membrane by its fleshy and moistened aspect, as well as by its situation. If, on this membrane, any irregular or ragged patches are conspicuous, if these patches are darker toward their edges than in their centers, and if they, nevertheless, seem shallow, pallid, moist, and sore, the animal may be rejected as glandered. Should any part of the membrane—after being wiped as before directed—seem rough or have evidently beneath its surface certain round or oval-shaped bodies, the horse assuredly is glandered. The membrane may present a worm-eaten appearance, or be simply of a discolored and heavy hue. In the first case, the animal ought to be condemned; in the second, it is open to more than suspicion.

No animal should be permitted to slowly perish of glanders. The disease, as it proceeds, affects the fauces, pharynx, and larynx; all become ulcerated. Not a particle of food can be swallowed; not a drop of saliva can be deglutated; not a breath of air can be inspired, without the severest torture being experienced. As the disease proceeds, the obstruction offered to the breathing grows more and more painful. Farcy breaks forth, and, as a consequence, superficial dropsy is added to the other torments. The edges of the nostrils enlarge; the membrane lining the cavities bags out, while the fauces and larynx contract: the discharge becomes more copious and the breathing is impeded. Thus the difficulty of respiration is increased, just as the condition of the lungs renders the necessity of pure air the more imperative. Ultimately, however, laborious breathing induces congestion of the brain, and the wretched sufferer falls insensible—it is hoped—to die of actual suffocation.

Such is a brief description of glanders, to cure which every now and then pretenders arise. No medicine, however, can restore the parts which disease has disorganized. There is no cure for glanders, which is essentially an ulcerative disorder. Every horse being thus contaminated should be at once destroyed: it is now lawful to do this when animals are taken in Smithfield market; but what is just in one place is surely not unjust in another. Moral rectitude resides on no particular spot. The blackguards who deal in contagion, driven from the public market, now reap a rich harvest by private sales. A chronically-glandered horse is an actual property to these rogues. It is sold. No sooner is the money paid and the vendor out of the way, than an accomplice appears and points out the nature of the bargain. The unfortunate purchaser seeks advice, and finds his worst fears confirmed. The accomplice offers to buy the horse at a knacker's price. It is obtained; and again it is advertised as "a favorite horse, the property of a gentleman deceased."

Any person ought by law to be empowered to give any man, driving or riding a glandered horse, into custody. There should be appointed certain qualified practitioners who should have authority to enter any stable at any time. Those abominations, where numbers of glandered horses are now stived together, whence they only are taken out to draw public vehicles by night, would then soon cease to exist. Were glandered horses by law condemned, men, from mercenary motives, would soon cease buying cheap life for the purpose of working disease to utter exhaustion. Such proprietors, were glanders declared just cause for slaughtering any horse wherever found, would soon discover their cheap purchases to be dear bargains. It is terrible now to witness animals, in almost the last stage of a most debilitating malady, goaded through the public streets with cruel loads behind them. It is horrible, when we reflect that every citizen in a large town is, by the avarice of unscrupulous people, exposed to a most loathsome disease, and to a most torturing death.

FARCY.

When the horse, which has been the pampered favorite in its youth, grows old, it generally becomes the half-starved and over-worked drudge of some equally half-starved proprietor. In the fullness of its pride and the freshness of its strength, it had to canter under the airy burden of my lady's figure. When the joints are stiff—when accident, disease, and sores, have rendered every movement painful; and when its energy is poorly fed upon the rankest provender—then the wretched animal is, by the whip of a thoughtless hireling, forced to toil between the shafts of some creaking cart. It is sad to watch the vehicles on a London road, and speculate upon what has been the past fortune and will be the future fate of the animals which propel them!

Farcy is peculiarly the lot of the poor man's horse. It is the consequence of utter exhaustion. It is the horrid friend—the last and dreadful rescuer of the thoroughly wretched. No one cause will produce it. To generate farcy, there must be a congregation of evils: the constitution must be weakly; the grooming must be neglected; the food must be stinted; the bed soiled; the dwelling small; the drainage bad; the master unfeeling, and the work excessive. All of these things, or so many of them as nature can endure, must exist before farcy can be generated.

It is true the disease can be communicated by inoculation. But that source of farcy is of very small importance. Not one case in a thousand thus originates. Farcy is essentially a skin disease. It commences with specific inflammation of the superficial absorbents. This inflammation leads to suppuration and to ulceration. Abscesses first appear. They may come on any part of the body. They seem to be, in the primary instance, lumps or hard enlargements. Something of the annexed form is first observed. There may be one of these, or there may be many. Ultimately they burst or are opened. Apparently healthy matter then issues from the interior. But the first discharge being released, the wound does not heal. The edges grow rough, the center of the sore becomes pale, and moistened by a thin, semi-transparent fluid. Then, if the neighborhood of the sore be felt, cords, more or less thin, will be discovered running from it toward some other lumps on the body.

Such is the distinguishing sign by which to recognize farcy. Lumps appear, which prove to be abscesses. They, after discharging, do not heal; they become ulcers. From them run certain cords, which are the swollen lymphatic or absorbents. Till the enlargement of the absorbents is discerned, a man, from the other signs, may suspect, but he cannot pronounce with certainty, the disease to be farcy.

If a recent case of farcy be slaughtered and dissected, the affection appears to go no deeper than the skin. The cellular tissue will exhibit indications of dropsy, which invariably is present. The muscles will be pallid and flabby, suggesting bodily debility; but, to most observers, such signs will be all that is discernible.

Is farcy, then, strictly, a local disorder? Can such be asserted of a malady which appears to be so constitutional in its origin? Is there nothing continuous with the skin? Yes, there is. Intimately connected with the outward covering of the body, imperceptibly blending with it, and capable, after exposure, of assuming its appearance, is the mucous membrane. Mucous membrane lines the interior of the body, and is very abundantly supplied with absorbents. The French, who are far more minute observers and more accomplished dissectors than the generality of English surgeons, have, in cases of farcy, detected signs which assure us the disease is not strictly an external affection. It has an internal and a deep-seated origin, as is evidenced by the discovery of a few tubercles upon the mucous membrane of the interior.

The course of the disease would likewise teach us to arrive at this conclusion. The appetite often fails; sometimes it becomes voracious. The matter is, by pressure, to be squeezed through the skin. The thirst becomes torturing; the horse will cry for water. All it drinks, however, passes quickly through the body, and the desire for fluid cannot be satisfied. At last—as though to prove the correctness of our opinion concerning the constitutional nature of farcy—glanders breaks forth.

Glanders and farcy seem to be the same disease, modified by certain circumstances to which the animal is exposed. Thus a horse, inoculated with the matter of glanders, may become farcied; or an animal, infected with the taint of farcy, may exhibit glanders. These results, together with the fact of a glandered horse displaying farcy prior to death, and of a farcied animal exhibiting glanders previous to decease, are pretty conclusive evidence.

Farcy is of two kinds, the large and the small. The large may appear as one or more abscesses. Generally it is disposed to select, in the first instance, those places where the skin is thin and the hair all but absent. It breaks, and becomes shallow ulcers, which, however, may heal upon the application of any escharotic. The abscesses are not, in every instance, of one absolute figure. They vary in such respect, and have a tendency, if neglected, to generate large ulcers, from which spring unsightly bunches of fungoid granulations.

The smaller description of this disorder has no preference for any particular locality. It appears, like surfeit, in small lumps all over the body. These lumps, from their size and uniformity, have been likened to buttons—hence the term "button farcy." Cords soon connect them; they maturate and burst, like the larger sort. The "button farcy," however, leaves a deeper and a more painful ulcer. It yields less readily to treatment, and seems to exhibit itself before the body is utterly exhausted.