'You bring two reasons to prove that in convicting witches likelihoods and presumptions ought to be of force more than about thieves or murderers. The first, because their dealing is secret; the other, because the devil will not let them confess. Indeed, men, imagining that witches do work strange mischiefs, burn in desire to have them hanged, as hoping then to be free; and then, upon such persuasions as you mention, they suppose it is a very good work to put to death all which are suspected. But, touching thieves and murderers, let men take heed how they deal upon presumptions, unless they be very strong; for we see that juries sometimes do condemn such as be guiltless, which is a hard thing, especially as they are upon their oath. And in witches, above all other, the people had need to be strong, because there is greater sleight of Satan to pursue the guiltless into death than in the other. Here is special care and wisdom to be used. And so likewise for their confessing. Satan doth gain more by their confession than by their denial, and therefore rather bewrayeth them himself, and forceth them unto confession oftener than unto denial.'

Samuel at first is reluctant to accept this statement. It has always been his belief that the devil is much angered when witches confess and betray matters; and in confirmation of this belief, or at least as some excuse for it, he relates an anecdote. Of course, one woman had suspected another to be a witch. She prevailed upon a gentleman to send for the suspected person, and having accused her in his presence, left him to admonish her with due severity, and to persuade her to renounce the devil and all his works. While he was thus engaged, and she was stoutly denying the accusation brought against her, a weasel or lobster suddenly made its appearance. 'Look,' said the gentleman, 'yonder is thy spirit.' 'Ah, master!' she replied, 'that is a vermin; there be many of them everywhere.' Well, as they went towards it, it vanished out of sight; by-and-by it re-appeared, and looked upon them.

'Surely,' said the gentleman, 'it is thy spirit;' but she still denied, and with that her mouth was drawn awry. Then he pressed her further, and she confessed all. She confessed she had hurt and killed by sending her spirit. The gentleman, not being a magistrate, allowed her to go home, and then disclosed the affair to a justice. When she reached home another witch accosted her, and said: 'Ah, thou beast, what hast thou done? Thou hast betrayed us all. What remedy now?' said she. 'What remedy?' said the other; 'send thy spirit and touch him.'

She sent her spirit, and of a sudden the gentleman had, as it were, a flash of fire about him: he lifted up his heart to G.o.d, and felt no hurt. The spirit returned, and said he could not hurt him, because he had faith. 'What then,' said the other witch, 'hath he nothing that thou mayest touch?' 'He hath a child,' said the other. 'Send thy spirit,' said she, 'and touch the child.' She sent her spirit; the child was in great pain, and died. The witches were hanged, and confessed.

Daniel, by an ingenious a.n.a.lysis, soon dismisses this absurd story, which, like all such stories, he takes to be further evidence of Satan's craft, and no disproof at all of the argument he has laid down. 'Then,' says Samuel, 'I will tell you of another thing which was done of late.

'A woman suspected of being a witch, and of having done harm among the cattle, was examined and brought to confess that she had a spirit, which resided in a hollow tree, and spoke to her out of a hole in the trunk. And whenever she was offended with any persons she went to that tree and sent her spirit to kill their cattle. She was persuaded to confess her faults openly, and to promise that she would utterly forsake such unG.o.dly ways: after she had made this open confession, the spirit came unto her, being alone. "Ah!" said he, "thou hast confessed and betrayed all. I could turn it to rend thee in pieces:"

with that she was afraid, and went away, and got her into company.

Within some few weeks after she fell out greatly into anger against one man. Towards the tree she goeth, and before she came at it--"Oh!"

said the spirit, "wherefore comest thou? Who hath angered thee?" "Such a man," said the witch. "And what wouldest thou have me do?" said the spirit. "He hath," saith she, "two horses going yonder; touch them, or one of them." Well, I think even that night one of the horses died, and the other was little better. Indeed, they recovered again that one which was not dead, but in very evil case. Now methinketh it is plain: he was angry that she had betrayed all. And yet when she came to the tree he let go all displeasure and went readily.'

There is much common-sense, as we should nowadays call it, in Daniel's comments on this extraordinarily wild story. 'Do you think,' he is represented as saying, 'that Satan lodgeth in a hollow tree? Is he become so lazy and idle? Hath he left off to be as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour? Hath he put off the b.l.o.o.d.y and cruel nature of the fiery dragon, so that he mindeth no harm but when an angry woman entreats him to go kill a cow or a horse? Is he become so doting with age that man shall espy his craft--yea, be found craftier than he is?'

And now for the winding-up of Parson Gifford's 'Dialogue.' 'Tis to be wished that all the parsons of his time had been equally sensible and courageous.

M. B. I could be content to hear more in these matters; I see how fondly I have erred. But seeing you must be gone, I hope we shall meet here again at some other time. G.o.d keep you!

SAM. I am bound to give you great thanks. And, I pray you, when occasion serveth, that you come this way. Let us see you at my house.

M. B. I thought there had not been such subtle practices of the devil, nor so great sins as he leadeth men into.

SAM. It is strange to see how many thousands are carried away, and deceived, yea, many that are very wise men.

M. B. The devil is too crafty for the wisest, unless they have the light of G.o.d's Word.

SAMUEL'S WIFE. Husband, yonder cometh the goodwife R.

SAM. I wish she had come sooner.

GOODWIFE R. Ho, who is within, by your leave?

SAMUEL'S WIFE. I would you had come a little sooner; here was one even now that said you were a witch.

GOODWIFE R. Was there one said I am a witch? You do but jest.

SAMUEL'S WIFE. Nay, I promise you he was in good earnest.

GOODWIFE R. I a witch? I defy him that saith it, though he be a lord. I would all the witches in the land were hanged, and their spirits by them.

M. B. Would you not be glad, if their spirits were hanged up with them, to have a gown furred with some of their skins?

GOODWIFE R. Out upon them. There were few!

SAM. Wife, why didst thou say that the goodwife R. is a witch? He did not say so.

SAMUEL'S WIFE. Husband, I did mark his words well enough; he said she is a witch.

SAM. He doth not know her, and how could he say she is a witch?

SAMUEL'S WIFE. What though he did not know her? Did he not say that she played the witch that heated the spit red hot, and thrust it into her cream when the b.u.t.ter would not come?

SAM. Indeed, wife, thou sayest true. He said that was a thing taught by the devil, as also the burning of a hen, or of a hog alive, and all such like devices.

GOODWIFE R. Is that witchcraft? Some Scripture man hath told you so. Did the devil teach it? Nay, the good woman at R. H.

taught it my husband: she doth more good in one year than all those Scripture men will do so long as they live.

M. B. Who do you think taught it the cunning woman at R. H.?

GOODWIFE R. It is a gift which G.o.d hath given her. I think the Holy Spirit of G.o.d doth teach her.

M. B. You do not think, then, that the devil doth teach her?

GOODWIFE R. How should I think that the devil doth teach her?

Did you ever hear that the devil did teach any good thing?

M. B. Do you know that was a good thing?

GOODWIFE R. Was it not a good thing to drive the evil spirit out of any man?

M. B. Do you think the devil was afraid of your spit?

GOODWIFE R. I know he was driven away, and we have been rid of him ever since.

M. B. Can a spit hurt him?

GOODWIFE R. It doth hurt him, or it hurteth the witch: one of them, I am sure: for he cometh no more. Either she can get him come no more, because it hurteth him: or else she will let him come no more, because it hurteth her.

M. B. It is certain that spirits cannot be hurt but with spiritual weapons: therefore your spit cannot fray nor hurt the devil. And how can it hurt the witch? You did not think she was in your cream, did you?

GOODWIFE R. Some think she is there, and therefore when they thrust in the spit they say: 'If thou beest here, have at thine eye.'

M. B. If she were in your cream, your b.u.t.ter was not very cleanly.

GOODWIFE R. You are merrily disposed, M. B. I know you are of my mind, though you put these questions to me. For I am sure none hath counselled more to go to the cunning folk than you.

M. B. I _was_ of your mind, but I am not now, for I see how foolish I was. I am sorry that I offended so grievously as to counsel any for to seek unto devils.

GOODWIFE R. Why, M. B., who hath schooled you to-day? I am sure you were of another mind no longer agone than yesterday.

SAMUEL'S WIFE. Truly, goodwife R., I think my husband is turned also: here hath been one reasoning with them three or four hours.

GOODWIFE R. Is your husband turned, too? I would you might lose all your hens one after another, and then I would she would set her spirit upon your ducks and your geese, and leave you not one alive. Will you come to defend witches?...

M. B. You think the devil can kill men's cattle, and lame both man and beast at his pleasure: you think if the witch entreat him and send him, he will go, and if she will not have him go, he will not meddle. And you think when he doth come, you can drive him away with a hot spit, or with burning a live hen or a pig.

GOODWIFE R. Never tell me I think so, for you yourself have thought so; and let them say what they can, all the Scripture men in the world shall never persuade me otherwise.