ON THE HABITS AND VICES OF HOUSES. 
673 
could have been obtained it is difficult to conjecture; he seemed 
to possess an instinctive power of inspiring* awe, the result 
perhaps of a natural intrepidity, in which I believe a great part 
of the art consisted; though the circumstance of the tete-a-tete 
shews that upon particular occasions something more must have 
been added to it. A faculty like this would, in other hands, 
have made a fortune; and great offers have been made to him 
for the exercise of his art abroad, but hunting and attachment 
to his native soil were his ruling passions. He lived at home in 
a style most agreeable to his disposition, and nothing could in¬ 
duce him to leave Duhallow and the fox-hounds.” 
The days of miracles and of magic are gone by; and however 
necromantic this may look (for I believe no man on earth can 
account for it), it is nevertheless quite true. There are so many 
living witnesses of the extraordinary power this man possessed, 
and his mystical art was practised for such a length of time, and 
on such a variety of subjects, that there is no such thing as doubt¬ 
ing the fact. It is a fact , be it recollected , of the nineteenth 
century . My friend, Mr. George Watts, of Dublin, who is a 
man not at all likely to be swayed by superstitious notions, has 
told me that he had more than one opportunity of witnessing 
the w onderful effect of Sullivan's art. “ And if I had not seen 
it myself,” he always observes, “ I would not believe it.” One 
remarkable instance in particular he relates, which, as it affords 
another practical example illustrative of the point at which 1 
wish to arrive, I shall take the liberty to repeat. This incident 
took place at the Curragh of Kildare, in the spring meeting of 
1804. Mr. Whalley’s King Pippin was brought there to run. 
He was a horse of the most extraordinary savage and vicious 
disposition; his particular propensity was that of flying ut and 
worrying any person who came within his reach; and ii he had 
an opportunity, he would get his head round, seize his rider by 
the leg with his teeth, and drag him down from his back. For 
this reason he w as always ridden in what is called a sword , 
which is nothing more than a strong flat stick, having one end 
attached to the cheek of the bridle, and the other to the girth of 
the saddle; a contrivance to prevent a horse of this kind from 
getting at his rider. King Pippin had long been difficult to 
manage and dangerous to go near; but on the occasion in 
question he could not be got out to run at all— nobody could 
put the bridle upon his head . It being Easter Monday, and 
consequently a great holiday , there was a large concourse of 
people assembled at the Curragh, consisting principally of the 
neighbouring peasantry; and one countryman, more fearless 
than the rest of the lookers-on, forgetting, or rather perhaps 
