ticulars of
her crimes are given, and against her name there only stands the words,
"convict and brynt." It is not, however, to be inferred, that in this
interval no trials or executions took place; for it appears, on the
authority of documents of unquestioned authenticity in the Advocates'
Library at Edinburgh,[29] that the Privy Council made a practice of
granting commissions to resident gentlemen and ministers in every part of
Scotland to examine, try, and execute witches within their own parishes.
No records of those who suffered from the sentence of these tribunals have
been preserved; but if popular tradition may be believed even to the
amount of one-fourth of its assertions, their number was fearful. After
the year 1572, the entries of executions for witchcraft in the records of
the High Court become more frequent, but do not average more than one per
annum,--another proof that trials for this offence were in general
entrusted to the local magistracy. The latter appear to have ordered
witches to the stake with as little compunction, and after as summary a
mode, as modern justices of the peace order a poacher to the stocks.

[29] _Foreign Quarterly Review_, vol. vi. p. 41.

As James VI. advanced in manhood, he took great interest in the witch
trials. One of them especially--that of Gellie Duncan, Dr. Fian, and their
accomplices, in the year 1591--engrossed his whole attention, and no doubt
suggested in some degree the famous work on Demonology, which he wrote
shortly afterwards. As these witches had made an attempt upon his own
life, it is not surprising, with his habits, that he should have watched
the case closely, or become strengthened in his prejudice and superstition
by its singular details. No other trial that could be selected would give
so fair an idea of the delusions of the Scottish people as this. Whether
we consider the number of victims, the absurdity of the evidence, and the
real villany of some of the persons implicated, it is equally
extraordinary.

Gellie Duncan, the prime witch in these proceedings, was servant to the
deputy bailiff of Tranent, a small town in Haddingtonshire, about ten
miles from Edinburgh. Though neither old nor ugly (as witches usually
were), but young and good-looking, her neighbours, from some suspicious
parts of her behaviour, had long considered her a witch. She had, it
appears, some pretensions to the healing art. Some cures which she
effected were so sudden, that