ur call. When we meet
on the other side, you shall do as much for me.
GOETHE'S "_Faust_."

The well-known story of Faust reminds us of the many similar weird
tales which have long held a prominent place in family traditions. But
in the majority of cases the devil is cheated out of his bargain by
some spell against which his influence is powerless. According to the
popular notion, compacts are frequently made with the devil, by which
he is bound to complete, for instance, a building--as a house, a
church, a bridge, or the like--within a certain period; but, through
some artifice, by which the soul of the person for whom he is doing
the work is saved, the completion of the undertaking is prevented:
Thus the cock is made to crow, because, like all spirits that shun the
light of the sun, the devil loses his power at break of day. The idea
of bartering the soul for temporary gain has not been confined to any
country, but as an article of terrible superstition has been
widespread. Mr Lecky has pointed out how, in the fourteenth century,
"the bas-reliefs on cathedrals frequently represent men kneeling down
before the devil, and devoting themselves to him as his servants." In
our own country, such compacts were generally made at midnight in some
lonely churchyard, or amid the ruins of some castle. But fortunately
for mankind, by resorting to spells and counterspells the binding
effects of these "devil-bonds" as they have been termed were, in most
cases, rendered ineffectual, the devil thereby losing the advantage.

It is noteworthy that the wisdom of the serpent is frequently
outwitted by a crafty woman, or a cunning priest. A well-known
Lancashire tradition gives a humorous account of how the devil was on
one occasion deluded by the shrewdness of a clever woman. Barely three
miles from Clitheroe, on the high road to Gisburne, stood a public
house with this title, "The Dule upo' Dun," which means "The Devil
upon Dun" (horse). The story runs that a poor tailor sold himself to
Satan for seven years on his granting him certain wishes, after which
term, according to the contract, signed, as is customary, with the
victim's own blood, his soul was to become "the devil's own." When the
fatal day arrived, on the advice of his wife, he consulted "the holy
father of Salley" in his extremity. At last the hour came when the
Evil One claimed his victim, who tremblingly contended that the
contract was won from him by frau