was shocked by the burning of an old woman as a witch in the district of Sologne, cupidity and fanaticism leading to the crime. Having softening of the brain, she did and said strange things, from which her children concluded that she was a witch and determined to burn her to death. When the time decided upon arrived, they sent for a priest, who confessed her. Soon after his departure her daughter screamed, "It is greatly borne upon me that now is the time to kill the hag; if we delay she may commit a sin in thought or deed, and the confession will go for nothing." As she burned, two of her children cried, "Aroint thee, witch!" I do not refer to this to intimate that the French people sympathize with such things, for France was filled with horror, and the murderers were brought to justice, but as an illustration of the persistence of the belief.
In Norway, Sweden, and Denmark witchcraft yet throws a spell over many of the sailors, fishermen, and solitary farmers. In Lapland sorcerers and witches abound, the latter claiming the power of stilling winds and causing rain to cease. It has been a comparatively short time since English seamen trading in Archangel were in the habit of landing and buying a fair wind from the witches.
But it is in Russia that the popular belief more generally resembles that of the whole world many centuries ago. Ralston, in "Songs of the Russian People," states: "But a little time ago every Russian village had its wizard, almost as a matter of course, and to this day it is said there is not a hamlet in the Ukraine that is not reported to keep its witch." When traveling in the interior of that country, accompanied by a master of the Russian language, I found that the peasants still believe that witches and wizards can steal the dew and the rain, send whirlwinds, hide
