Spell
A spell is the basic mechanism of religious magical practices. It consists of a spoken or written formula which is used in conjunction with a particular set of magical ingredients. If a spell is properly executed and fails to work, then the spell is a fraud. However, in most instances, the failure of a spell to bring about the desired effect can be attributed to the failure of the person executing the spell to follow the magic formula to the letter.Generally speaking, there are two types of magic: Contagious magic[?] and sympathetic magic. Contagious magic involves the use of physical ingredients which were once in contact with the object or objects one hopes to influence with a spell, and sympathetic magic involves the use of physical objects which resemble the object or objects one hopes to influence.
Far away in dismal Northland,
Lapland's young and reckless minstrel,
Dining with his friends and fellows,
That there lived a sweeter singer,
On the plains.html">plains.html">plains of Kalevala,
Better skilled than Youkahainen,
Straightway then the bard.html">bard.html">bard grew angry.html">angry,
Envy of this Wainamoinen,
Hastes he angry to his mother.html">mother.html">mother,
Vows that he will southward hasten,
To the dwellings of Wainola,
There as bard to vie in battle.html">battle,
"Nay," replies the anxious father.html">father,
"Nay," replies the fearful mother,
There with him to offer battle;
Will bewitch thee in his anger,
Sink thee in the fatal snow.html">snow-drift,
Turn to ice thy feet.html">feet and ankles."
Good the judgement of a father,
Best of all one's own decision.
Challenge him to sing in contest,
Sing to him my sweet-toned measures,
Chant to him my garnered wisdom,
That this famous bard of Suomi,
Shall become a hapless minstrel;
That his feet shall be as flint.html">flint-stone,
And this famous, best of singers,
In his heart a stony burden,
On his hand a flint-stone gauntlet,
Then the wizard, Youkahainen,
Heeding not his mother's counsel,
Fire outstreaming from his nostrils,
Hitches to his sledge, the fleet-foot,
Mounts impetuous his snow-sledge,
Strikes his courser.html">courser with his birch-whip,
Instantly the prancing racer
On he, restless, plunges northward,
All the next day, onward, onward,
Till the third day twilight brings him
To the plains of Kalevala.
Wainamoinen, the magician,
Silently for pleasure driving
O'er the plains of Kalevala.
Urging still his foaming courser,
Does not turn aside in meeting,
Shafts are driven tight together,
.
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