THE DARK AGES 31 



a pleasant proof that the Whityngdons were not 

 unmindful of the source whence sprang their wealth 

 and distinction. 



What makes the historian so eager to dwell long 

 and lovingly upon every page gilded by Pussy s tri 

 umphs is the deepening gloom through which we 

 see her little figure steal frightened and forlorn. 

 For centuries she is hidden from our sight ; and, 

 when she emerges out of the unknown, a strange 

 and melancholy change has come over her fortunes. 

 Here and there we find such scanty proof as I have 

 offered of toleration, and even of esteem, on the 

 score of usefulness ; but, as she grew in time to be 

 a familiar object in the homes of men, they looked 

 at her askance with cruel and troubled eyes. The 

 god of Egypt, the plaything of Rome, became, by 

 some sad ill chance, a symbol of evil things. Her 

 beauty, her grace, her gentleness availed her no 

 thing. She was the witch s friend, and on many 

 a murky midnight had gazed unblinkingly upon 

 shameful spells. The Prince of the Power of Dark 

 ness had taken her for his own, and she dwelt by 

 the hearths of men to lure them to destruction. 

 The cat that served seven masters, each for seven 

 years, carried the soul of the seventh into Hell. 

 Like the were-wolf, she set free the primitive, bes 

 tial impulses of humanity. The wife who left her 

 sleeping husband s side to share the obscene revels 



