674 
ON THE HABITS AND VICES OF HORSES. 
never dreaming*, that the better part of courage is prudence, 
volunteered his services to bridle the horse; but no sooner had 
he committed himself in this operation, than King Pippin 
seized him somewhere about the shoulders or chest, and, says 
Mr. Watts, “ I know of nothing I can compare it to, so much 
as to a dog shaking a rat.” Fortunately for this poor fellow, 
his body was very thickly covered with clothes; for, on such 
occasions, observes my friend, an Irishman of this class is fond 
of displaying his wardrobe, and 44 if he has three coats at all in 
the world f he is sure to put them all on. This circumstance, in 
all probability, saved the individual who had so gallantly volun¬ 
teered the forlorn hope. His person was so deeply enveloped 
in extra tegument , that the horse never got fairly hold of his 
skin ; and 1 understand he escaped with but little injury beyond 
a sadly rent and totally ruined state of all his holiday toggery . 
The whisperer was then sent for, who having* arrived, was shut 
up with the horse all night, and in the morning he exhibited 
tliis hitherto ferocious animal, following him about the course 
like a dog; lying dow n at his command ; suffering his mouth 
to be opened, and any person’s hand to be introduced into it; in 
short, as quiet almost as a sheep. He came out the same meet¬ 
ing, and won a race , and his docility continued satisfactory for 
a long time; but at the end of about three years his vice re¬ 
turned, and then he is said to have killed a man , for which he 
w as destroyed. 
This anecdote, so well authenticated, affords, I say, another 
good practical illustration of the point I seek to establish, and 
the conclusion at which I w ish to arrive ; viz. that whatever may 
have been the means employed to check or cure a vicious pro¬ 
pensity in a horse, he is almost sure at some future period to 
return to his old tricks again. 
Sullivan used to say he got his secret from a soldier who 
chanced to be passing* by his cottage in a state of exhaustion, 
and to w^hom he offered some refreshment, and that he w r as bound 
by an oath never to reveal it. Here then, indeed, was a secret 
well worth knowing. But whatever it was, it seems to have 
perished—to have descended to the grave with James Sullivan; 
for I believe there is no man now on earth who can boast of 
exercising any such power over the horse. His son pretends to 
some knowledge of it, but he certainly does not possess the 
right secret: of this I had myself an opportunity of being con¬ 
vinced by ocular demonstration, a few years since, when quar¬ 
tered at Cork. I must crave the reader’s patience—one little 
story more will bring us into port.— 44 Courage, lads; I see land.” 
VVe have in the regiment a remarkably nice horse, called 
