ed what we may call, in the absence
of a better term, the "smart set," and the literary sets of London, were
especially the "deriders" of superstition? It is not hard to believe
that Shadwell, the worldly Bishop Parker, and the polished Sir William
Temple[62] would fairly reflect the opinions of that class. So too the
diarist Pepys, who found Glanvill "not very convincing." We can conceive
how the ridicule of the supernatural might have become the fad of a
certain social group. The Mompesson affair undoubtedly possessed
elements of humor; the wild tales about Amy Duny and Rose Cullender
would have been uncommonly diverting, had they not produced such tragic
results. With the stories spun about Julian Cox the witch accusers could
go no farther. They had reached the culmination of nonsense. Now, it is
conceivable that the clergyman might not see the humor of it, nor the
philosopher, nor the scholar; but the worldly-minded Londoner, who cared
less about texts in Leviticus than did his father, who knew more about
coffee-houses and plays, and who cultivated clever people with
assiduity, had a better developed sense of humor. It was not strange
that he should smile quizzically when told these weird stories from the
country. He may not have pondered very deeply on the abstract question
nor read widely--perhaps he had seen Ady's book or glanced over
Scot's--but, when he met keen men in his group who were laughing quietly
at narratives of witchcraft, he laughed too. And so, quite
unobtrusively, without blare of trumpets, skepticism would slip into
society. It would be useless for Glanvill and More to call aloud, or for
the people to rage. The classes who mingled in the worldly life of the
capital would scoff; and the country gentry who took their cue from them
would follow suit.

Of course this is theory. It would require a larger body of evidence
than we can hope to gather on this subject to prove that the change of
opinion that was surely taking place spread at first through the higher
social strata and was to reach the lower levels only by slow filtration.
Yet such an hypothesis fits in nicely with certain facts. It has
already been seen that the trials for witchcraft dropped off very
suddenly towards the end of the period we are considering. The drop was
accounted for by the changed attitude of judges and of justices of the
peace. The judges avoided trying witches,[63] the justices were less
diligent in discovering them. But