The Whole History of Grandfather's Chair: Or, True Stories from New England History, 1620-1808Hawthorne, Nathaniel
History
The Whole History of Grandfather's Chair: Or, True Stories from New England History, 1620-1808
Hawthorne, Nathaniel
Massachusetts -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Juvenile literature
The lesson being over, Mr. Eliot would give the Indian boy an apple or
a cake, and bid him leap forth into the open air which his free nature
loved. The Apostle was kind to children, and even shared in their sports
sometimes. And when his visitors had bidden him farewell, the good man
turned patiently to his toil again.
No other Englishman had ever understood the Indian character so well,
nor possessed so great an influence over the New England tribes, as the
apostle did. His advice and assistance must often have been valuable
to his countrymen in their transactions with the Indians. Occasionally,
perhaps, the governor and some of the councillors came to visit Mr.
Eliot. Perchance they were seeking some method to circumvent the forest
people. They inquired, it may be, how they could obtain possession of
such and such a tract of their rich land. Or they talked of making
the Indians their servants; as if God had destined them for perpetual
bondage to the more powerful white man.
Perhaps, too, some warlike captain, dressed in his buff coat, with a
corselet beneath it, accompanied the governor and councillors. Laying
his hand upon his sword hilt, he would declare that the only method of
dealing with the red men was to meet them with the sword drawn and the
musket presented.
But the apostle resisted both the craft of the politician and the
fierceness of the warrior.
“Treat these sons of the forest as men and brethren,” he would say;
“and let us endeavor to make them Christians. Their forefathers were of
that chosen race whom God delivered from Egyptian bondage. Perchance he
has destined us to deliver the children from the more cruel bondage
of ignorance and idolatry. Chiefly for this end, it may be, we were
directed across the ocean.”
When these other visitors were gone, Mr. Eliot bent himself again over
the half-written page. He dared hardly relax a moment from his toil. He
felt that, in the book which he was translating, there was a deep human
as well as heavenly wisdom, which would of itself suffice to civilize
and refine the savage tribes. Let the Bible be diffused among them, and
all earthly good would follow. But how slight a consideration was
this, when he reflected that the eternal welfare of a whole race of men
depended upon his accomplishment of the task which he had set himself!
What if his hands should be palsied? What if his mind should lose its
vigor? What if death should come upon him ere the work were done? Then
must the red man wander in the dark wilderness of heathenism forever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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