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I cannot tell, so mot I thrive;
It was not given by man alive.—St. X. p. 72.
Some writer, upon Dæmonology, tells us of a person, who was very desirous to establish a connection with the invisible world; and failing in all his conjurations, began to entertain doubts of the existence of spirits. While this thought was passing through his mind, he received, from an unseen hand, a very violent blow. He had immediately recourse to his magical arts; but was unsuccessful in evoking the spirit, who had made his existence so sensibly felt. A learned priest told him, long after, that the being who had so chastised his incredulity, would be the first whom he should see after his death.
The running stream dissolved the spell.—St. XIII. p. 74.
It is a firm article of popular faith, that no enchantment can subsist in a living stream. Nay, if you can interpose a brook betwixt you, and witches, spectres, or even fiends, you are in perfect safety. Burns's inimitable Tam o' Shanter turns entirely upon such a circumstance. The belief seems to be of antiquity. Brompton informs us, that certain Irish wizards could, by spells, convert earthen clods, or stones, into fat pigs, which they sold in the market; but which always reassumed their proper form, when driven by the deceived purchaser across a running stream. But Brompton is severe on the Irish, for a very good reason: "Gens ista spurcissima non solvunt decimas." Chronicon Johannis Brompton apud decem Scriptores, p. 1076.
