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Now, if you ask who gave the stroke,

I cannot tell, so mot I thrive;

It was not given by man alive.-St. X. p. 80.

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. 82.

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.

His buckler scarce in breadth a span,

No longer fence had he;

He never counted him a man,

Would strike below the knee.—St. XVII. p. 86.

Imitated from Drayton's account of Robin Hood and his followers:

A hundred valiant men had this brave Robin Hood,
Still ready at his call, that bowmen were right good;
All clad in Lincoln green, with caps of red and blue,
His fellow's winded horn not one of them but knew.
When setting to their lips their bugles shrill,
The warbling echoes waked from every dale and hill;
Their bauldrics set with studs athwart their shoulders cast,
To which under their arms their sheafs were buckled fast.
A short sword at their belt, a buckler scarce a span,
Who struck below the knee not counted then a man.
All made of Spanish yew, their bows were wondrous strong,
They not an arrow drew but was a clothyard long;
Of archery they had the very perfect craft,

With broad arrow, or but, or prick, or roving shaft.

Poly-Olbion, Song 26.

To wound an antagonist in the, thigh, or leg, was reckoned contrary to the law of arms. In a tilt betwixt Gawain Michael, an English squire, and Joachim Cathore, a Frenchman,

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they met at the sperre poyntes rudely: the French squyer justed right plesantly; the Englyshman ran too lowe, for he strake the Frenchman depe into the thygh. Wherwith the Erle of Buckingham was right sore displeased, and so were all the other lordes, and sayde how it was shamefully done." FROISSART, vol. i. chap. 366.-Upon a similar occasion, "the two knights came a fote eche agaynst other rudely, with their speares lowe couched, to stryke eche other within the foure quarters. Johan of Castel-Morante strake the Englysh squyer on the brest in such wyse, that Sir Wyllyam Fermeton stombled and bowed, for his fote a lyttell fayled him. He helde his speare lowe with bothe his handes, and coude nat amende it, and strake Sir Johan of the Castell-Morante in the thighe, so that the speare went clene throughe, that the heed was sene a handfull on the other syde. And Syre Johan with the stroke reled, but he fell nat. Than the Englyshe knyghtes and squyers were ryghte sore displeased, and sayde how it was a foule stroke. Syr Wyllyam Fermetone excused himselfe, and sayde how he was sórie of that adventure, and howe that yf he had knowen that it shulde have bene so, he wolde never have begon it; sayenge howe he coude nat amende it, by cause of glaunsing of his fote by constraynt of the great stroke that Syr John of the Castell-Morante had given him." Ibid. ch. 373.

And with a charm she stanched the blood.

St. XXIII. p. 90.

See several charms for this purpose in Reginald Scot's Discoverie of Witchraft, p. 273.

Tom Pots was but a serving man,

But yet he was a doctor good;

He bound his handkerchief on the wound,

And with some kinds of words he staunched the blood.
Pieces of ancient popular Poetry, Lond. 1791, p. 131.

But she has ta'en the broken lance,

And washed it from the clotted gore,

And salved the splinter o'er and o'er.—St. XXIII. p. 90. Sir Kenelm Digby, in a discourse upon the cure by sympathy, pronounced at Montpelier, before an assembly of nobles and learned men, translated into English by R. White, gentleman, and published in 1658, gives us the following curious surgical case:

"Mr James Howel (well known in France for his public works, and particularly for his Dendrologie, translated into French by Mons. Baudouin) coming by chance, as two of his best friends were fighting in duel, he did his endeavour to part them; and putting himselfe between them, seized, with his left hand, upon the hilt of the sword of one of the combatants, while, with his right hand, he laid hold of the blade of the other. They, being transported with fury one against the other, struggled to rid themselves of the hindrance their friend

made that they should not kill one another; and one of them roughly drawing the blade of his sword, cuts to the very bone the nerves and muscles of Mr Howel's hand; and then the other disengaged his hilts, and gave a crosse blow on his adversarie's head, which glanced towards his friend, who heaving up his sore hand to save the blow, he was wounded on the back of his hand as he had been before within. It seems some strange constellation reigned then against him, that he should lose so much bloud by parting two such dear friends, who, had they been themselves, would have hazarded both their lives to have preserved his: but this unvoluntary effusion of bloud by them, prevented that which they shulde have drawn one from the other. For they, seeing Mr Howel's face besmeared with blood, by heaving up his wounded hand, they both run to embrace him; and having searched his hurts they bound up his hand, with one of his garters, to close the veins which were cut, and bled abundantly. They brought him home, and sent for a surgeon. But this being heard at court, the king sent one of his own surgeons; for his majesty much affected the said Mr Howel.

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"It was my chance to be lodged hard by him; and four or five days after, as I was making myself ready, he came to my house, and prayed me to view his wounds; for I understand,' said he, that you have extraordinary remedies on such occasions, and my surgeons apprehend some fear that it may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut off." In effect, his countenance discovered that he was in much

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