Sinclair recommends its "usefulness for refuting Atheism." Probably
Mr. Sinclair got the story, or had it put off on him rather, through one
Campbell, a student of philosophy in Glasgow, the son of Gilbert
Campbell, a weaver of Glenluce, in Galloway; the scene in our own time,
of a mysterious murder. Campbell had refused alms to Alexander Agnew, a
bold and sturdy beggar, who, when asked by the Judge whether he believed
in a God, answered: "He knew no God but Salt, Meal, and Water." In
consequence of the refusal of alms, "The Stirs first began." The "Stirs"
are ghostly disturbances. They commenced with whistling in the house and
out of it, "such as children use to make with their small, slender glass
whistles." "About the Middle of November," says Mr. Sinclair, "the Foul
Fiend came on with his extraordinary assaults." Observe that he takes
the Foul Fiend entirely for granted, and that he never tells us the date
of the original quarrel, and the early agitation. Stones were thrown
down the chimney and in at the windows, but nobody was hurt.

Naturally Gilbert Campbell carried his tale of sorrow to the parish
Minister. This did not avail him. His warp and threads were cut on his
loom, and even the clothes of his family were cut while they were wearing
them. At night something tugged the blankets off their beds, a favourite
old spiritual trick, which was played, if I remember well, on a Roman
Emperor, according to Suetonius. Poor Campbell had to remove his stock-
in-trade, and send his children to board out, "to try whom the trouble
did most follow." After this, all was quiet (as perhaps might be
expected), and quiet all remained, till a son named Thomas was brought
home again. Then the house was twice set on fire, and it might have been
enough to give Thomas a beating. On the other hand, Campbell sent Thomas
to stay with the Minister. But the troubles continued in the old way. At
last the family became so accustomed to the Devil, "that they were no
more afraid to keep up the Clash" (chatter) "with the Foul Fiend than to
speak to each other." They were like the Wesleys, who were so familiar
with the fiend Jeffrey, that haunted their home.

The Minister, with a few of the gentry, heard of their unholy friendship,
and paid Campbell a visit. "At their first coming in the Devil says:
'_Quum Literarum_ is good Latin.'" These are the first words of the
Latin rudiments which scholars are taught when they go to t