dence even less strong
than this. John Bain, a common pricker, swore that, as he passed her
door, he heard her talking to the devil. She said in defence, that it
was a foolish practice she had of talking to herself, and several of
her neighbours corroborated her statement; but the evidence of the
pricker was received. He swore that none ever talked to themselves who
were not witches. The devil's mark being found upon her, the additional
testimony of her guilt was deemed conclusive, and she was "convict and
brynt."

From the year 1652 to 1682, these trials diminished annually in number,
and acquittals were by no means so rare as they had been. To doubt in
witchcraft was no longer dangerous. Before country justices,
condemnations on the most absurd evidence still continued, but when the
judges of the land had to charge the jury, they took a more humane and
philosophical view. By degrees, the educated classes (comprised, in
those days, within very narrow limits), openly expressed their unbelief
of modern witchcraft, although they were not bold enough to deny its
existence altogether. Between them and the believers in the old
doctrine fierce arguments ensued, and the sceptics were designated
Sadducees. To convince them, the learned and Reverend Joseph Glanvil
wrote his well-known work, "Sadducismus Triumphatus," and "The
Collection of Relations;" the first part intended as a philosophical
inquiry into witchcraft, and the power of the devil "to assume a mortal
shape;" the latter containing what he considered a multitude of
well-authenticated modern instances.

But though progress was made, it was slow. In 1664, the venerable Sir
Matthew Hale condemned two women, named Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, to
the stake at St. Edmondsbury, upon evidence the most ridiculous. These
two old women, whose ugliness gave their neighbours the first idea that
they were witches, went to a shop to purchase herrings, and were
refused. Indignant at the prejudice against them, they were not sparing
of their abuse. Shortly afterward, the daughter of the herring-dealer
fell sick, and a cry was raised that she was bewitched by the old women
who had been refused the herrings. This girl was subject to epileptic
fits. To discover the guilt of Amy Duny and Rose Cullender, the girl's
eyes were blinded closely with a shawl, and the witches were commanded
to touch her. They did so, and she was immediately seized with a fit.
Upon this evidence they were sent