M. B. If you take it that this is one craft of Satan to bring

many to be guilty of innocent blood, and even upon their
oaths, which is horrible, what would you have the judges and
juries to do, when they are arraigned of suspicion to be
witches?

DAN. What would I have them do? I would wish them to be most
wary and circumspect that they be not guilty of innocent
blood. And that is, to condemn none but upon sure ground, and
infallible proof; because presumptions shall not warrant or
excuse them before God, if guiltless blood be shed.

Replying to observations made by the schoolmaster, Daniel continues:

'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 God, 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 analysis, 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 ungodly 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 bloody 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.