authorities decided, that, though it was unsafe to set him at liberty,
they yet had no ground to put him to death, the matter being finally
referred to five "elders," Uncas was straightway authorized to slay him
in cold blood. The Pequots were first defeated and then exterminated,
and their heroic King Philip, a patriot according to his own standard,
was hunted like a wild beast, his body quartered and set on poles, his
head exposed as a trophy for twenty years on a gibbet in Plymouth, and
one of his hands sent to Boston: then the ministers returned thanks, and
one said that they had _prayed_ the bullet into Philip's heart. Nay, it
seems that in 1677, on a Sunday in Marblehead, "the women, as they came
out of the meeting-house, fell upon two Indians, that had been brought
in as captives, and in a tumultuous way very barbarously murdered them,"
in revenge for the death of some fishermen: a moral application which
certainly gives a singular impression of the style of gospel prevailing
inside the meeting-house that day. But it is good to know, on the other
side, that, when the Commissioners of the United Colonies had declared
an Indian war, and the Massachusetts Colony had become afterwards
convinced that the war was unrighteous, the troops were recalled, though
already far towards the field, and no pride or policy prevented the
order from being rescinded.

These were some of the labors of the clergy. But no human being lives
without relaxation, and they may have had theirs. True, "ministers have
little to joy in in this world," wrote old Norton; and one would think
so, to read the dismal diaries, printed or manuscript, of those days. "I
can compare with any man living for fears," said Hooker. "I have sinned
myself into darkness," said Bailey. "Many times have I been ready to lay
down my ministry, thinking God had forsaken me." "I was almost in the
suburbs of hell all day." Yet who can say that this habit of agonizing
introspection wholly shut out the trivial enjoyments of daily life? Who