s, a boy of
fifteen, when learning the fifth commandment, persisted in saying only
"honour thy mother," and, when admonished, declared that his father had
given him fire-water, which had intoxicated him, and had besides been
passionate and violent with him. The boy had always been a rude,
contumacious fellow, and at the next lecture day Mr. Eliot turned to the
Sachem, and lamented over these faults, but added that the first step to
reforming him would be for his father to set the example by a confession
of his own sins, which were neither few nor light.

The Sachem's pride was subdued. He stood up and openly declared his
offences, lamenting over them with deep sincerity. The boy was so
touched that he made humble confession in his turn, and entreated
forgiveness. His parents were so much moved that they wept aloud, and
the board on which Cutshamakin stood was wet with his tears. He was
softened then, but, poor man, he said: "My heart is but very little
better than it was, and I am afraid it will be as bad again as it was
before. I sometimes wish I might die before I be so bad again!"

Poor Cutshamakin! he estimated himself truly. The Puritan discipline,
which aimed at acting on the conduct rather through the conscience and
feelings than by means of grace, never entirely subdued him, and he
remained a fitfully fierce, and yet repentant, savage to the end of his
life. His squaw must have been a clever woman; for, being publicly
reprimanded by the Indian preacher Nabanton, for fetching water on a
Sunday, she told him after the meeting that he had done more harm by
raising the discussion than she had done by fetching the water.

Sunday was impressed upon the natives with all the strictness peculiar to
the British Calvinists in their reaction from the ale-feasts, juggleries,
and merry-makings of the almost pagan fifteenth century. It is never
hard to make savage converts observe a day of rest; they are generally
used to keep certain seasons already, and, as Mr. Eliot's Indians
honestly said, they do so little work at any time that a weekly
abstinence from it comes very easily. At Nonantum, indeed, they seem to
have emulated the Pharisees themselves in their strictness. Waban got
into trouble for having a racoon killed to entertain two unexpected
guests; and a case was brought up at public lecture of a man who, finding
his fire nearly gone out, had violated the Sabbath by splitting one piece
of dry wood with his