years have come and gone since it was said to have passed from among men.
It is, however, always difficult to ascertain the extent of this pagan survival. As a general rule, it is useless to inquire of the people about it. You will obtain hardly any information if you are suspected to be asking in a sceptical way, or out of idle curiosity. The subject is evaded, or ignorance of the matter declared. And one powerful obstacle to getting any information from people who believe in such things, is their conviction that it is forbidden to speak openly of these dark matters, and that to do so is to expose yourself to the displeasure of the unseen powers. Thus, there is much more superstitious belief extant than is generally imagined, because it is exceedingly difficult to explore the subject.
The fisherman, brought into constant and close contact with the wild powers of that Nature from which he with hardship wrings a bare subsistence, has a blinder faith in the ancient ways than other men. It is evident that all distinctively Christian teaching has been lost upon him. So deeply imbued is his nature with the hereditary faith of his pagan forefathers, that in the present day he holds to it—the notions of the ninth century have been carried down unaltered into the nineteenth.
For example, two things may be mentioned which are to this day believed in and acted on by living men. At any rate, within living memory they have in numerous cases been known as certainly as anything can be. One of these is the belief that it is “unlucky,” or more correctly, “forbidden,” to save a person from drowning. The real grounds on which this belief rests are difficult to ascertain. Sir Walter Scott and some others account for it by the explanation, that it was imagined that the rescued would afterwards injure his rescuer, and that he was fated to do so. But from what I have with difficulty learned, I rather believe the notion is that the man who prevents another from drowning will himself perish instead—that the sea will have its prey, and if a man deprives it of its victim, he himself must supply the victim’s place. This is clearly a pagan belief pure and simple. The evil spirit—or the god of the sea, good or evil—must have his sacrifice; if you hinder him, you awake his anger, which another victim alone can appease. It is told how a man not only declined to put off his boat to rescue another drowning
