A belief in witchcraft—that is, in the temporary or permanent residence of some evil spirit in men—has been confined to no one age or race. Its predominance among the northern Tai tribes is very remarkable in view of its inconsistency with Buddhism, which has long been the religion of the race. In the contest for supremacy, the spirit-cult, while it has not superseded Buddhism, has secured the stronger hold on the people. They worship Buddha and make offerings in his temples; but they fear and dread the power of the spirits to inflict present evil. It is safer to neglect Buddha than these. And the power of a malicious spirit is most dreaded when it has taken up its abode in a human habitation. From the time of our first arrival in Chiengmai we were continually amazed to find what multitudes of people had been driven from their homes for supposed witchcraft. All the northern provinces and towns, as has already been mentioned, were largely peopled by that unfortunate class. Accusation of witchcraft had become one of the most dreaded means of oppression and persecution. It was a favourite way of getting rid of an envied rival or of a disagreeable neighbour. No family and no rank were safe from such attack. Princes, even, had fallen under its ban. When once the suspicion of witchcraft was well started, the individual or the family was doomed. Our sympathies had often been aroused in behalf of these unfortunates; but no favourable opportunity had occurred for interference in any other way than by our teaching. Finally, in August, 1878, the opportunity came. I had a request from a prince of some wealth and standing, that I would take under our protection Pā Sêng Bun and her family, accused of witchcraft. The woman was first the under-wife of the Prince’s deceased father, who was a man of note in his day. She had two fine boys by a subsequent husband, and a niece nearly grown. This second husband was a widower, whose former wife was suspected of dealing in the occult art; and the theory was that the evil spirit came into her family through these sons. In that season of heavy rains and flooded streams, the whole family was to be driven off—some of them surely to die on the way. The patron said that he was helpless; that no one in the land, unless it were ourselves, could shield them from that fate. I told him that we were perfectly willing to risk the anger of the spirits, only we did not wish unnecessarily to offend the prejudices of the people. He was willing to assume all _legal_ responsibility; for the rest, we might fight it out with the spirits as we pleased. After notifying the Siamese Commissioner of the situation, we brought the family to our place.