and kobolds hiding behind the roots and rocks; one can hear the King of
the Willows[1] and the Bride of the Wind moaning and calling in the
rustling of the leaves. On a summer's day the calm of pools is so
complete that it seems as if, according to Luther's words, the throwing
of a stone into the water would raise a tempest. But on moonlit, windy,
Walpurgis Night, witches audibly ride by, hooted at by the owls, and vast
spectres dance in the cloud-banks beyond the Brocken.

[Sidenote: The witch]

The witch has become a typical figure: she was usually a simple, old
woman living in a lonely cottage with a black cat, gathering herbs by the
light of the moon. But she was not always an ancient beldam; some
witches were known as the purest and fairest maidens of the village; some
were ladies in high station; some were men. A ground for suspicion was
sometimes furnished by the fact that certain charletans playing upon the
credulity of the ignorant, professed to be able by sorcery to find money,
"to provoke persons to love," or to consume the body and goods of a
client's enemy. Black magic was occasionally resorted to to get rid
{653} of personal or political enemies. More often a wise woman would be
sought for her skill in herbs and her very success in making cures would
sometimes be her undoing.

[Sidenote: The devil]

If the witch was a domestic article in Europe, the devil was an imported
luxury from Asia. Like Aeneas and many another foreign conqueror, when
he came to rule the land he married its princess--in this case Hulda the
pristine goddess of love and beauty--and adopted many of the native
customs. It is difficult for us to imagine what a personage the devil
was in the age of the Reformation. Like all geniuses he had a large
capacity for work and paid great attention to detail. Frequently he took
the form of a cat or a black dog with horns to frighten children by
"skipping to and fro and sitting upon the top of a nettle"; again he
would obligingly hold a review of evil spirits for the satisfaction of
Benvenuto Cellini's curiosity. He was at the bottom of all the
earthquakes, pestilences, famines and wars of the century, and also, if
we may trust their mutual recriminations, he was the special patron of
the pope on the one hand and of Calvin on the other. Luther often talked
with him, though in doing so the sweat poured from his brow and his heart
almost stopped beating. Luther admitted that the devil