Gass \ i -' '^■■'' Book ' ^i ,f\ SKETCHES or WILLIAM PENN BY WILLIAM a1 ALCOTT. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY D. S. KING '62 Washin;,'ton sJtieet. 1839. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839, Br D. S. King, In the Clerk's omce of the District Court of Massachusetts D. H. EliA, PRINTEil. TO CHILDREN SABBATH SCHOOLS My dear young Friends, From my earliest youth I have been delighted with many things in the character of William Penn, the founder of the great State of Pennsylvania. His very name brings to my mind the most pleasant associa- tions of ideas. He was so good a father and husband, so affectionate and kind to all his friends, and to every body whom he met with, and, above all, so good and friendly to the poor Indians, by whom he and his people were for a long time surrounded, that it is impossible for me to avoid esteeming and loving him ; and notwithstanding he belonged to the Society of Friends, or as they are sometimes called, Quakers, and held to some opinions which I believe to be erroneous, I cannot help wishing that there were no worse people in the world than he was. Perhaps some of you are already acquaint- ed with his character, having read his life, as written by others. If so, you probably have brothers, or sisters, or cousins, or neighbors, who have not been, in this respect, so fortu- nate. To them^ therefore, you can commend the book, even if you do not wish to read it yourselves. You can do so, I mean, if you hke it. It is not intended to be a full and perfect account of the distinguished individual of whom it treats, but rather a collection of stories about him, procured or abridged from larger histories, designed to show you what sort of a man he was; and in so far as his behavior was proper and right, and Christ-like — but no farther — lead you to imitate his ex- ample. W. A. A. Boston, January, 1839. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Birth of Penn. His early education. His good beha- vior and scholarship. Difficulties at school. Is ex- pelled. Returns to his father. Is punished, and turned out of doors. His mother's interference. He is sent abroad to travel. Sudden return at the re- quest of his father. His father not satisfied with him. Sends him to Ireland. Is imprisoned there. Descrip- tion of his person. Release from prison. Returns to England. Again turned out of doors. Reflec- tions Page 11 CHAPTER II. Penn becomes a preacher and author. Is seized and imprisoned in the Tower of London. Remains in prison seven months. Employment in prison. Re- lease. Goes again to Ireland. Returns. Preaches in England. Is arrested again, and sent to Newgate. His trial. Attempt to starve the jurors. Sent again VUl CONTENTS. to prison. His release. Reconciliation with his father. His father's death. Inheritance of property. Its effects. Seized again. Tried. Condemned to six months imprisonment in Newgate. Release. Marriage. Residence. Labors. Visit to Holland and Germany. Return. Storm at sea. Anecdotes about prayer to God. ..... 30 CHAPTER III. New era in the life of Penn. Becomes interested in the provinces in America. West Jersey. Prepares a constitution for it. Its excellent features. Purchases of the king the province of Pennsylvania. Measures for settling it. Provisions in regard to the Indians. His letter to them. His directions to his own people. ....... 48 CHAPTER IV. Death of Penn's mother. His affection for her. His thoughts turned to America. Resolves to go there. His advice to his children on leaving them. He sets sail. Incidents of the voyage. Arrival at Newcas- tle , . . 63 CHAPTER V. Penn's treaty with the Indians. The elm tree at Ken- sington. Anecdotes of it. Scarcity of provisions. The Indians hunt for the whites. Founding of Phil- adelphia. Directions of Penn about building it. Cultivation of the country. What was doing for the Indians. . - 81 CONTENTS. IX CHAPTER VI. Persecution in England. Penn goes there. Solicits the king. The king's death. John Locke the philo- sopher. The new king of England. Penn's famil- iarity with him. This raises up enemies. A new book. The dissenters — among them were 1200 Friends — set at liberty. Tour to the Continent. Return. Arrest. Trial. Acquittal. Toleration act. Another trial and acquittal. A third trial and acquittal. Thinks of going to America. Attends the funeral of George Fox. Attempts to seize him again. His retirement. Is proscribed by the queen; but not taken. New troubles. Death of his wife. 95 CHAPTER VII. Penn in his family. He attempts to recover his lost possessions in America. His success. His reputa- tion again rises. Anecdote of Fuller. Missionary labors. Marriage to a second wife. Death of his son. He sails with his family for America. Phila- delphia. Penn's house. Pennsburg. The Indians. An Indian feast. Anecdotes of Penn. More troubles. Goes to England. Troubles in regard to his pro- perty. Ill conduct of his eldest son. Dishonesty of his steward. He lives for some time within prison limits. Mortgages his property to regain his liberty. Attack of apoplexy. His death. . . .114 SKETCHES WILLIAM PENN CHAPTER I. Birth of Penn. His early education. His good beha- vior and scholarship. DifficuUies at school. Is ex- pelled. Returns to his father. Is punished, and turned out of doors. His mother's interference. He is sent abroad to travel. Sudden return at the re- quest of his father. His father not satisfied with him. Sends him to Ireland. Is imprisoned there. Descrip- tion of his person. Release from prison. Returns to England. Again turned out of doors. Reflections. William Penn was bom in London, October 14, 1644. His father was Sir William Penn, a British admiral. Of his mother, and of her ways of managing her children, little is said in history. The father, 12 SKETCHES OF wealthy and distinguished as he was, and especially anxious to give his son William a liberal education, sent him early to a grammar school, where he appears to hav£ ^"S?^"^^ several years. It was at Chigwell in Essex, at some distance from London, and was a most excellent school. It does not seem to have been one of those schools in which the Bible, and prayer and other acts of religion and religious worship, are as effectually shut out, as if they had nothing to do with school, and were only to be attended to on the Sabbath ; for it was while at this school, and when only eleven years of age, that young Penn first received those religious impressions which lasted him through life, and which were the means, under God, of rendering him one of the most useful men of his day. From this school, his father removed him to another which was much nearer home, and — what was not so common amono- the WILLIAM PENN. 13 wealthy English gentlemen at that time as it has since become — procured for him a private tutor besides. The truth is, that the admiral was determined, if possible, to make a great man of him ; though, of making him a good man as well as a great one, we do not know that he had at that time thought much. He was determined, at least, to give him every opportunity of becoming great, which learning would afford him, and then, if he did not become what he designed, the fault would rest with the son, and not with himself. At the age of fifteen, young Penn had made such progress in his studies that he was thought well fitted for college. He was accordingly entered at Christ's Church College at Oxford. Here, for some time, he behaved exceedingly well, as he had formerly done. He not only attended faithfully to his studies and endeavored to understand them well, but he did what young 2 14 SKETCHES OF men of that age are not always careful to cloy he used proper and sufficient exercise, as well as studied hard. He allowed himself in all those active and manly sports in the open air, which are so well calculated to make the body strong and healthful ; though never, that we know of, in cards, dice or any games of chance. For amusements of the mind, he sought the society of pleasant and well informed friends ; among whom was the celebrated philosopher, John Locke. Thus far, he had done nothing to give offence or pain to his relatives and friends, or to lessen his reputation in the view of the world, or to draw off his mind from the subject of religion. On the contrary, he was beloved by all who knew him, more and more; and it is no wonder that his father's hopes were greatly raised respecting him. Not long after his entrance into college, however, he began to attend the preaching of one Thomas Loe, a very eccentric or WILLIAM PENN. 15 si^ngular preacher, but apparently a good man. He appears to have been connected with the Society of Friends. As the doctrines taught by Mr, Loe led young Penn to think it was not proper for him to attend church where he had formerly done, and as he was always careful to do what his conscience told him was fit and proper, he withdrew, with some of his fellow students who had also fallen into the notions of Mr. Loe, and they held a meeting of their own. But their very absence from the place where they were accustomed .o attend gave offence to the officers of the colleo-e, and they were fined for not attending at the estalished place of worship. This, however, neither led them to re- turn to the old place of worship, nor pre- vented them from attending at their new one. They were determined to act accordino- to the dictates of their own consciences, let what would happen. They thought they 16 SKETCHES OF were right ; and in doing what they believed to be their duty, they thought they were obeying God in preference to obeying men. So far they acted conscientiously, and for aught we can see, at this day, as good people ought to act. But this was not all. They went a little farther still ; indeed, quite too far. They seem to have been somewhat irritated by being fined, and they became revengeful. This was very wrong. They ought to have been quiet and forgiving. This was especially incumbent on them, as they were young, and liable to be mistaken. Young Penn, especially, wise as he seemed to be on most occasions, ought to have set his companions a good example of conformity to the spirit of that religion which teaches its followers to forgive abuses, not merely to the seventieth time, but to the four hundred and ninetieth. I have said they became revengeful. The case was this. The king had given orders WILLIAM PENN. H that the students of the college at Oxford should wear surplices. This, Penn and his companions, who had probably adopted some of the views of the Society of the Friends about plainness in dress, could not at all bear. They were not only determined not to wear surplices, but to prevent the other students from wearing them, if they could. So having formed their plan, they made a sudden attack upon the students in their new surplices, and tore them violently off. This soon made a great noise in college, and well it might. It is painful to relate so unwarrantable an act of so worthy and excellent a character as was the leader in this affray. But as it was the first shameful act in which he had ever been engaged, so it proved the last, if we except one or two instances of stubbornness. But the deed was done, and Penn and his associates were obliged to suffer the consequences. The leaders, and of course 2* 18 SKETCHES or Perm among the rest, were expelled from college. The father of the latter was greatly displeased, and was almost unwilling to see him, when he came home. All his high hopes of him seemed crushed in a moment by a single rash act. And what grieved him still more, was to find that the son would not own he had been in the wrong. It is true he did not quite like — and never had done — the serious habits in regard to dress, conversation and company his son had adopted before he went to college ; but these he could have borne with, had nothing else happened. And what was the course, do you tliink, he finally took with him ? It was a very injudicious course indeed. But fathers sometimes do wrong. It was not well to treat a young man of seventeen like a boy of four or five ; especially one of a character which inclined to obstinacy. But he was a naval commander, and he acted as many WILLIAM PENN. 19 Other naval commanders would probably have done. Unable to convince his son of his error, by reasoning with him, he had recourse to blows ; and finding these to fail of producing the effect he intended, he went farther still, and actually turned .his_son out of doors. It is difficult to say which was most in fault in the case, the father or the son. But as the son was first in the wrong, it will be natural to rest the weight of the blame on him. The father, however, ought not to have done wrong because the son had ; but the son, in a case which seems so plainly wrong to us at this day and period, ought not to have continued to resist the force of his father's arguments. The mother of young Penn was possessed of a very different temper from that of the father. When the first g:ust of passion had subsided, she endeavored to reconcile the parties ; and so soft and winning were her 20 SKETCHES OF manners that she finally succeeded, and the offender was restored to his father's house. But the father, though he forgave, could not quite forget. He disliked the religious company his son was disposed to keep, and earnestly wished there was some way to work a change in his mind and feelings, and make him relish better the society of the gay and the cheerful. He finally hit upon a plan which he thought would accomplish the object, and he accordingly proceeded to put it in execution. Finding that some of his friends were goinoj out to France to travel in that country, it was resolved that young Penn should accompany them. His first residence was at Paris ; but we cannot easily suppose such a gay and dissipated city would please him long : and accordingly we find him soon removed to Saumur. There is one anecdote related of him while at Paris, which, if true, and it probably WILLIAM PENN. 21 is, so from what we learn of his future character, is certainly very creditable to him, when we consider the natural impetuosity and rashness of youth. Being in the street one evening, a man attacked him and drew his sword upon him. Penn grappled with him and a severe conflict ensued. At length Penn succeeded in disarming his antaojonist, but he spared his life, when he might easily have taken it. After spending several months at Saumur, he went to Italy. Here, he received a letter from his father, saying, that having been ordered to take the command of his fleet, he wished the son to take charge of the family during his absence. The latter was now, probably, about nineteen years of age. The request of the father was at once complied with. The family received him with open arms. For though he had lost nothing of the relio^ious character with which he went out, his manners had certainly 22 SKETCHES OF become greatly improved, and he had acquired something of that Hvehness and pohshj for which the French nation has so long been distinguished. This was highly- satisfactory to his father. While at home with the family, during the absence of his father, he paid a little attention to the study of the law, especially the constitution and laws of his native country. The knowledge of this kind which he obtained, though it did not at all fit him for a profession — which, indeed, was not intended, — proved afterwards of very great service to him. During the same period, his mind became changed again to its original serious state, and he associated with none but grave and serious people. When his father returned from sea, and observed the change, he sent him off to Ireland to reside in the family of the lord lieutenant, who was an acquaintance of Admiral Penn, in whose society he hoped WILLIAM PENN. 23 he would, once more, regain his temporary- fondness for gay society. But no; all the pomp and splendor and temptations, even of a life at court, were insufficient to change his habits, tastes or pursuits. Not willing to give it up. Admiral Penn made one more effort. Having large estates in Ireland, he gave to his son their sole management, believing that the care of them, if he consented to take charge of them at all, would employ all his time, and detain him at a distance from all his former connections. The son, always willing to comply with his father's wishes, where nothing was required which either conscience or the word of God told him was wrong, at once consented ; and the father began again to take courage. But a circumstance soon occurred which broke up the whole arrangement. Being one day at Cork, on business, young Penn heard that a meeting was about to be held there by his old friend Thomas Loe^ and 2.4 SKETCHES OF could not resist the temptation of going to hear him. The subject of his discourse was, "There is a faith which overcomes the world." The impression made on his mind was so strong, that, from this time forth, he resolved to attach himself openly to the Friends ; he accordingly began to attend, very steadily, their meetings. But he soon found how strong the public prejudices were against the new sect, and that he must expect to meet with persecution. One day, while attending a meeting, he was seized by an officer, and carried before the mayor of the city, for trial, on the ground that he had been favoring tumultuous assemblies. As he had not yet fully adopted the Friends' dress, they offered to set him at liberty, if he would only give bonds for his good behavior ; but refusing to do this, he was, with eighteen other persons, committed to prison. When committed to prison, he was in the WILLIAM PENN. 25 twenty third year of his age. He had now attained to manhood, and, as it may be pleasant to many to know something of his person and general appearance, I have collected, from the most authentic sources, the following account of him. In his younger years, William Penn was tall, strong and active ; and his activity was probably increased by his fondness for ath- letic and manly sports. In more advanced years, though inclined to be corpulent, he was still remarkably active ; and is said to have been a fine looking, portly man. From some of the pictures of him which have been seen on coins, on bank notes, &lc., one might be led to think his form and manners were clumsy and ungraceful ; but it is said by his biographers, on the contrary, that his address and general deportment were graceful and elegant. His appearance was always rendered more agreeable, and pro- duced a more favorable impression, on account 3 26 SKETCHES OF of his kindness, and the sweetness of his temper. But we left him in prison, in Ireland. Soon after he was committed, he wrote a letter to a noble lord in that country, in which he stated his case so fairly, and in such agreeable, though manly terms, that it procured his release, and he returned to the management of his father's estates. Meanwhile the unwelcome news of his having become a Friend had reached his father, in London, who immediately sent for him to come home. At first his father did not perceive that change in his external appearance which he seems to have expected. But his custom of not taking off his hat in the presence of those who were considered his superiors in age, or rank, or wisdom, as well as many other little changes, in dress or modes of speech, at length convinced him that the reports were true, and that his last WILLIAM PENN. 27 efforts to change his views and habits had failed. Still he was unwilling to give up the point. He tried once more to reason him out of his religious views, at first beseeching him, almost on his knees, to conform to his own wishes and to the forms of the established church ; and afterwards threatening, to disinherit him, if he continued to refuse. But all in vain. Though he loved his father tenderly, he was not to be moved by any such measures, and the father at length gave up all hopes of him. As a last request, however, he begged him to agree to take off his hat in the presence of the duke of York and the king : but after taking the matter into consideration for a whole night, the son refused to do even so much. This last refusal was more than the high-minded father could bear, and in the height of his anger, he again turned him out of his house, resolving to have no more to say to him a^ain for ever. 28 SKETCHES OF It may seem very strange to us, that young Penn should have persisted so strongly in what appears to be a matter of very little consequence ; and perhaps most of us shall be likely to say that he was rather obstinate. We shall say that, in such a little thing, he ought most certainly to have yielded to the wishes of his father. It is true he was now in the twenty-fourth year of his age, and, as many would be apt to think, old enough to judge and act for himself. Still, as he had no family of his own, and was yet a member of his father's family, he was as much bound to obey his father, or nearly as much so, at least in all matters which did not touch his con- science, as ever he was. But here was the difficulty. It was with his conscience. What he thought was wrong in the sight of God, if it was ever so small a thing, he would no more do, or think of doing, than if it was a large matter. And thus it was in the matter of pulling off his hat in the presence of great persons, persons of distinc- WILLIAM PENN. 29 tion or eminence. He thought it was wrong ; and thinking so, all the world could not have persuaded him to do it. However we may blame Penn, we cannot help thinking him sincere. For what was he to gain by standing out against his father's wishes, in these matters ? He had been brought up to no trade or profession, and he had no means of support except what came to him through his father. And what was he to do without his friendship ? How could he even subsist? But this, it seems, he did not much regard. His chief concern, so we are told, was, that he was giving so much pain to a father whom he tenderly loved, and who had ever been, for the most part, very kind to him. But, though forsaken, he was not discouraged. Nor was he left to suffer at all. His mother often wrote him, and sent him money for his support ; and he had several other kind friends besides. 3* 30 SKETCHES OF CHAPTER II. Penn becomes a preacher and author. Is seized and imprisoned in the Tower of London. Remains in prison seven months. Employment in prison. Re- lease. Goes again to Ireland. Returns. Preaches in England. Is arrested again, and sent to Newgate. His trial. Attempt to starve the jurors. Sent again to prison. His release. Reconciliation with his father. His father's death. Inheritance of property. Its effects. Seized again. Tried. Condemned to six months imprisonment in Newgate. Release. Marriage. Residence. Labors. Visit to Holland and Germany. Return. Storm at sea. Anecdotes about prayer to God. In the year 1668, being now full twenty- four years of age, Penn resolved to become a minister. Not long after he commenced pub- lic preaching, he got into a discussion with a minister of another sect, on some religious doctrine or other ; in which Penn became so warmly engaged, that he at length published WILLIAM PENN. 31 a book on the subject. It was called " The Sandy Foundation Shaken." This book gave great offence to many people, and among the rest to the bishop of London. So much was indeed said about it, and so much of heresy was it supposed to contain, that the author was considered by many leading men of the day as a disturber of the public peace. Ac- cordingly he was seized and sent a prisoner to "The Tower."* * The Tower of London, often called, without fur- ther explanation, The Tower, is generally believed to have been built by William I., sometimes called Wil- liam the Conqueror ; and if so, is nearly eight hundred years old. It is situated close to the north bank of the river Thames, at the very extremity of the city, and is enclosed by walls and a ditch, the circumference of which is 3,156 feet; considerably more than half a mile. The space enclosed measures almost thirteen acres. Within these walls are a great number of buildings, among which are the White Tower, the Church, the Ordnance Office, the Mint, the Record Office, the Jewel Office, the Horse Armory, the Grand Storehouse, the Lion's Tower, and the Beauchamp Tower. The White Tower is an edifice three stories high, containing muskets and other warlike implements for 32 SKETCHES OF Here he was treated with very great sever- ity. He was not only kept in close confine- ment, in a dungeon, but v/as not permitted to receive visits from any of his friends. Indeed he was even told that the bishop of London was determined he should either confess his 30,000 men. The church is famous for being the place where were deposited the headless bodies of Anne Boleyn and others, who were beheaded there. In the record office are kept the rolls, as they are called, from the time of King John to Richard III., after which they were kept elsewhere. The price of a permission to search among these rolls or records is 10s. 6d. ; for which you may search one year. In the jewel office the crown jewels are kept. In the horse armory are kept all sorts of armor, from the time of William I. The grand storehouse, 345 feet long and 60 broad, contains arms for 200,000 men. In a division of this, called the Spanish armory, are many curiosities. Among them are the axe which severed the head of Anne Boleyn as well as that of the Earl of Essex, and a wooden cannon used by Henry VIII. at the siege of Boulogne. The Beauchamp tower seems to have been th department principally occupied as a prison ; and here Anne Bo- leyn, Lady Jane, and other great personages were con- fined. Here too, in all probability — though I do not know with certainty — Penn was confined. The lion's tower contains a great menagerie of curious animals. WILLIAM PENN. 33 errors and renounce them, or else die in prison. But all this did not move him. Death, to such a man, and for conscience sake, had no terrors ; and in a letter to the bishop of Lon- don, Penn told him plainly, that his prison should be his grave before he would renounce his opinions, unless he should see clearly that he was wrong ; for " he owed his conscience to no man." He was confined in the Tower seven months, but whether he was kept closely all this time does not appear. He was however permitted to have his pen and ink ; these were not denied him. And with these, and a mind like his, we may be sure he was not idle. It was here, in prison, that he wrote a book which some of my readers may possibly have seen, entitled " No Cross, No Crown ;" also another work, called " Innocency with her Open Face." The friends of Penn were by no means idle during the whole seven months of his impris- 34 SKETCHES OF onment. Some of them were persons of great influence with the .king ; and it is thought by many that his father himself, whose heart now began to relent, interposed in his behalf. But whatever the cause may have been, the king was at length moved to release him, and he was accordingly liberated. We have seen, in the last paragraph, that his father's feelings toward him had begun to change. He now permitted him to come to his house, though he would not as yet see him. But as this was a very painful situation, and as his hopes of reclaiming him may have been again excited, he gave him a commission to execute some business for him in Ireland ; and the son, ever willing, as I have said be- fore, to execute his father's commands, when he could do so conscientiously, accepted the proposals, and once more departed for Ireland. His situation in Ireland gave him consider- able leisure for other things ; and this he e n- ployed in visiting some of his brethren of the WILLIAM PENN. 35 Society of the Friends, who were imprisoned for the sake of their opinions. But he did more than visit them ; he drew up a sort of petition, in doing which his knowledge of the law was of much service to him, and present- ed it to the lord lieutenant of Ireland with his own hand. In this petition he so ably plead- ed the innocency of the imprisoned persons, that he succeeded in procuring their release. Not long after this, he returned to London. On his arrival, his father, who had now be- come reconciled to him, received him with open arms, and there was great joy in the whole family ; and at their particular request, he once more took up his residence with them. But he had not been long at home, before he was involved in new troubles. A law had been passed by Parliament, which forbid all Dissenters from worshipping God according to their own consciences. As Penn contin- ued not only to do so, but at times also to preach, he was apprehended, and put in 36 SKETCHES or Newgate,* to await his trial at the next court. When the trial came on, he was charged with preaching to an unlawful, seditious and riotous assembly. It seems that on going to the church, for the purpose of preaching, at the time of his being taken, he had found it guarded by a band of soldiers, and not being allowed to go in, had remained without the door, and preached to the assembly in the open air. All, however, had been done qui- etly on the part both of him and his friends ; and the only disturbance had been made by the soldiers. But all the disturbance was charged on Penn and his friends ; and it was even attempted to be shown, that they had tried to hold their meeting by force of arms ! During his trial, a great many marks of indignity and abuse were shown him. For * Newgate is the name of the principal prison in London, in which criminals are kept, and contains from 300 to 900. WILLIAM PENN. 37 example, as he did not take off his hat in the court room, one of the officers, on a certain occasion, pulled it off by force ; and on ano- ther occasion, he was fined for the offence of keeping his head covered. Great pains were taken to prove the charges brought against Penn ; but it hap- pened that a jury was to try him, many of whom were honest men ; and though we do not know that any of them were of his reli- gious persuasion, they evidently had con- sciences. They could not agree on a verdict. Four of the twelve were for acquitting him. They were sent out by the Court again and again, to reconsider the case, and were finally told by the clerk of the court that they should be locked up without food, or drink, or fire, and made to starve if they did not bring in such a verdict as the court could accept. Penn, who, as it appears, was his own lawyer in the case, remonstrated against such wicked proceedings, but to no purpose. The 4 38 SKETCHES OF jury were kept two days and two nights with- out the least refreshment. At last those who conducted the prosecution, fearing, perhaps, that the jurors would actually starve, and yet unwilling to yield any thing, contrived the matter so as to bring the jury into fault, and both they and Penn were all sent off to pri- son. The imprisonment of the jury, how- ever, as it was found to be unlawful, did not last long. They were soon released. Penn also was released soon after by means of his father's efforts, who was compelled to pay for his liberation a heavy fine. The feelincfs of Admiral Penn towards his o son had now experienced an entire change. Though he miofht have still believed him rather obstinate, yet he knew he was a young man of great excellence of character, and it was impossible for him to see a son so amiable and whom he loved so tenderly, reviled and persecuted and imprisoned, simply on account of his views of religion, WILLIAM PENN. 39 without being deeply affected by it ; and his heart became every day more and m.ore bound up in him. Besides, his own health was beginnining to fail, and as he was apprehensive that his end was drawing near, he wanted him at home with him, to discharge towards him the last kind offices. In this view, and with these feelings, he went much farther in his efforts in behalf of the young man than the latter could have had the least reason to expect. He even made an attempt to get a promise from the king and from the duke of York, that they would protect his son after his death, and not let him be so constantly exposed to suffering on account of his principles — and what was still less to be expected, the king and the duke promised to grant his request. Not long after this, the father died. On his very death bed, however, he encouraged his son to go on, saying that if he and his friends continued to adhere to their plain way 40 SKETCHES OF of preaching and plain living, they would certainly be the instruments of a very great reform in the world. It must surely have been a great comfort to Penn to find his father, in his last moments, sustaining and encouraging, and even urging him forward in the career he had begun. It is no small matter for a young man but little over twenty years of age, reared amidst riches and show and luxury, and at a period when vice is fashionable, and dissipation respectable, to have the courage to look on rank and titles and splendor in their true light, and cast them all behind him ; and aim at nothing but that true greatness of soul which unfeigned piety only can bestow. How much is it to be wished that such a moral courage as was possessed by Penn, and was thus aided and strengthened by the dying request of his venerable parent, were more in fashion now a days ! How much does the present age need holy, sel WILLIAM PENN. 41 denying parents and children, who will not only act right in view of persecution, or even of death, but who will actually help each other onward, and strengthen each other in what they believe to be right, and in what is agreeable to the will of God, and accordingly to the dictates of their consciences. By the death of his fiuher, Penn inherited a yearly income of about £1500 sterling; equal to more than ^6600. As however, money was worth at that time, in England, about three times as much as it now is with us, that is, w^ould buy three times as much, we should regard it as, in effect, a sum equal to about $20,000. Most young men w^ould be ruined, very soon, by the acquisition of such a yearly income ; but it did not alter Penn. He was just as anxious to do good as ever. He never dreamed of exerting himself any the less, because he had property. In fact he never exerted himself more in discharging 4# 42 SKETCHES or his duties to God and man, especially in the way of travelling about and . preaching, and visiting and conversing with people, as a minister should do, than for some time after his father's death. But he had not yet done suffering from persecution, notwithstanding his inofFensive- ness of manner ; and notwithstanding, too, the gracious promises of the king and the duke of York, made to his venerable father, on his death bed. On returning one day to London, after he had been making a short tour into the country, and preaching what he beheved to be the truth, he experienced once more the fury of the populace, or rather of their prejudiced and infatuated leaders. As he was preaching in a small meeting house belonging to the sect of which he was a member, he was suddenly pulled down from the pulpit by officers sent for the purpose, and imprisoned again in the Tower. Having been confined in prison a short WILLIAM PENN. 43 time, he was at length brought out for trial. But as his judge was one of his most bitter enemies, his cliance of a fair trial was utterly hopeless. In sliort, the result was that he was condemned to suffer six months imprison- ment in Newgate, where he was accordingly committed. While in prison, he spent his time principally in writing, and when he was liberated he made a tour through Holland and Germany, for the purpose of spreading his religious principles. What success atten- ded these labors is not now known. Soon after his return to London, he was married. This was in the year 1672. After marriage, he took up his abode, for some time, in Hertfordshire. I might stop here to tell you something about his wife. I might tell you how well she was adapted to sustain and encourage him in the labors he had begun, and in the reform which he was attempting. Perhaps, 44 SKETCHES OF however, it is sufficient to say that she was a lady of a most excellent character, and that she proved to be a most worthy and exemplary and pious companion. His labors in preaching, writing, convers- ing, and defending the cause of the oppressed, the persecuted, and the imprisoned, now be- came incessant. No man — I repeat it — ever disregarded, more than he, the advantages which are commonly considered as belonging to property. Instead of being less active be- cause he was not obliged to exert himself, he actually became, every day, more and more so. About the year 1677, in company with George Fox and Robert Barclay, two emi- nent dissenting ministers of his own persua- sion, he again visited Holland and Germany ; in many parts of which they were received with great favor and attention, especially in Bohemia. In returning from the continent to England on this occasion, they encountered a most WILLIAM PENK. 45 violent storm ; and as the vessel was leaky, they could not help apprehending great dan- ger. Short as the distance was, they were at sea three nights and two days, during the whole of which time there was a continual storm of wind, hail and rain, intermingled. Some of the sailors came very near being swept overboard. But alarmed as the pas- sengers and seamen were in time of danger, it was surprising to observe, said Penn, how soon they forgot it all, after they got safe to land, and returned to their usual idle and trifling or profane conversation. But Penn is not the only person who has observed this trait in human nature. No one who has travelled much at sea, can avoid ob- serving it. We sometimes witness this strange forgetfulness, without going at all from home. I knew a boy who, though by no means vicious or unmindful of his duty to his parents, was forgetful of duty to God; and though he was near ten years of age, and had been 46 SKETCHES OP tanght to pray, by his mother, when four or five years of age, seemed to have outgrown the practice, and for several years had not littered a single prayer, not even those short and simple ones of his infancy. One day an accident befel his brother, much younger than himself, of such a nature that his life was thought to be in great dan- ger. Then it was, for a moment, that God was remembered ; and the boy prayed, and prayed earnestly. The burden of his prayer was, that God would spare his little brother's life ; promising at the same time, that if his prayer was granted, he would spend the rest of ^his hfe in the fear and service of God. I repeat it, he seemed to pray with very great earnestness and sincerity indeed. The little brother recovered in a week or two ; but what, think you, was the result ? Do you think the elder brother kept his word ? Very far from it. In a single month he for- got all his solemn promises, and went on the WILLIAM PENN. 47 journey of life again, passing day after day, without praying to God or even thinking of him. But to return to Penn. He at length reached his family in safety, having been ab- sent about three months, and travelled during that time about three thousand miles, besides preaching a great many sermons, and holding a very great number of religious conversations and discussions. 48 SKETCHES OF CHAPTER III. New era in the life of Penn. Becomes interested in the proviu-^es in America. West Jersey. Prepares a constitution for it. Its excellent features. Purchases of the king the provin:;e of Pennsylvania. Measures for settling it. Provisions in regard to the Indians. His letter to them. His directions to his own people. We are now come to an entirely new pe- riod in the history of Penn. Hitherto we have seen him chiefly as a man and a Chris- tian ; we are now to view him as a politician and a philanthropist. The settlement of this western world had been begun many years before this time. Colonies had been established all alono- the o Atlantic coast of what now forms the United States ; and among the rest, a settlement had been commenced in New Jersey, under the name ^of East Jersey. West Jersey seems, WILLIAM PENN. 49 as yet, not to have been much settled. This was about the year 1680. At this time, Penn became interested in these New Jersey settlements, especially West Jersey ; and the task devolved on him of forming a constitution for the colony. He prepared for them an excellent code of laws, under which the colony went on, for some time, very prosperously. According to them, no man in the colony was to be seized or imprisoned, except by a jury of twelve men of the neighborhood, and no person was to be imprisoned for debt. If an individual owed another, his estate was to satisfy his creditors, as far as it would go, and then he was to be allowed to work again, for himself and family. In addition to these laws, so singular for those early days, he made provision in the consticution that no one should be interrupted or molested, on account of his religious opinions. Some time before this, Penn and his 5 50 SKETCHES OF family had removed from Hertfordshire to Sussex. This situation appears to have afforded him more quiet, and released him more from religious services and labors than his fomier one. Accordingly we find his thoughts turned, very much, towards the new colonies in North America, especially that of West Jersey. He made such arrangements as o^ave great encouragement to the settlement there of people of his own religious sentiments and such were the inducements that he held out, and the persecutions they experienced at home in England, that it was not long before two hundred persons set sail at once for the new territory. In the year 1681, being engaged in the arrangement of his father's affairs, and finding that the government owed him the sum of £16,000 sterling, as executor to his father, he proposed to the king that, instead of paying him the money, he should make over WILLIAM PENN. 51 to him a tract of land lying v/est of the river Delaware in North America, opposite to West Jersey, with a view to form a colony there more entirely on his own plan. Probably his letters from individuals in that region had also convinced him that It was an excellent tract of land, and one of the most favorable places for the settlement of his persecuted brethren, in every respect, which he could desire. His proposal to the king met, at first, Vvith considerable opposition, but the king at length accepted it, and a charter was made out. The name of the new province was called, In the charter, Pennsylvania, in honor, not of young Penn, as has been by some supposed, but of admiral Penn, his father. The young man even protested against it at first, lest people should think it was an effort of his, to honor his own name. Having now become very intimately concerned In the formation and settlement 52 SKETCHES OF and government of a new colony, Penn found it necessary to give up his connection with the province of West Jersey. But this was a matter of very httle consequence, as the colony was now able to do very well by itself, without his aid or assistance. He had already sent over about one thousand four hundred people to it, many of whom were, not the ofF-scourings of society, but persons of very great worth and respectability. He had also caused the town of Burlington to be built. Instead of a howling wilderness, the country was nov/ cut up, in many parts of it, into farms, and roads had been made ; and instead of large tents covered with canvass, in which to hold their weekly or semi-weekly seasons of divine worship, meeting houses had been built. Burlington was under the government of wise and respectable magistrates ; and the Indians in the neighborhood, instead of being excited WJLLIAM PENN. 53 into jealousy and enmity, had been made friendly and peaceable neighbors. One of the first steps Penn took, in regard to the new province, was to draw up in writing an account of it. This account, for those days, was full and particular, and without exaggeration. It was no part of the policy of this great man, by an overdrawn picture of the new province to raise the expectations of people too high, and after having induced them to go out there, leave them to the disappointment of not finding things as they expected ; a course which has often, but wickedly, been adopted in regard to new countries ; but he wished to have every thing according^ to truth ; and sucli it accordingly v/as, so far as was in his own power to render it so. Connected with his account of the province, which it seems, he afterwards had printed and pubhshed, was a statement of the terms on which and on which alone, he was 5* 54 SKETCHES OF willing to dispose of his land ; which were not only favorable to himself, but such as were calculated, in the best possible degree, to promote the happiness of the new settlers : his object being, not so much to make money, as to make good citizens and good Christians. Among the conditions in regard to the sale of his land, was one very singular one; at least we should think it so, if it were made a condition in the sale of land now. This was, that for every five acres of land which was cleared by the settlers, one should be left with the timber on it. Another was that oak and mulberry trees, wherever found, should be preserved, for the production of silk and the building of ships. But nothing shows, in a more striking manner, his great wisdom and prudence, than the pains he took and the provisions he made respecting the Indians. This love for, and attention to these poor people, was indeed the crowning glory of Penn's WILLIAM PENN. 55 character ; and that which will be the means of handing down his name with applause, to the latest generations. As it had been usual for the planters, in many of the colonies, to overreach or cheat the Indians, in trading with them, he made the following stipulation for their security and benefit. Whatever was sold to the Indians, for their furs, was to be sold to them publicly, in the market place, where it was to be tested, whether it was good or bad ; if good, it was to pass ; if not good, it was not to be sold for good ; in order, as he said, that the native Indians '' might neither he abused nor provoJced.^^ He ordered, moreover, that no man should, by any ways or means, in word or in deed, affront or wrong any Indian ; and if he did, he should incur the same penalty of law, as if he had committed the act against his fellow planter ; and if any Indian should, by word or otherwise, abuse any planter, the planter should not be his own judge in the 56 SKETCHES OF ca.se, entirely ; but the case should be brought before the governor or some magistrate, who should endeavor to make a satisfactory arrangement with the chief or king of the tribe to whom the man belonged, in regard to him. And lastly, it was provided that all differences between the planters and the Indians, when they could not be settled otherwise, should be left to twelve men — a sort of jury — ^six of whom should be planters, and six Indians ; in order, if possible, to prevent, as he expressed it, " all occasions of heart burnings and mis- chief." What w^isdom was this ! So uncommon is it, that it seems almost angelic. Would that all our ancestors had been thus wise in their dealings with the Indians ! Who can avoid the extreraest pain to think how often a course was pursued with them as entirely different from that which is pointed out in the foregoing paragraph as dayliglu is from WILLIAM PENN. 57 darkness. Not only have they been cheated and wronged, in regard to their property, but alas ! they have been defrauded, as it were, out of their morals and their health. Io:norant of the sad nature and demoralizing tendency of strong drinks, tobacco, &:c., they were easily led by those who better knew their effects, to the use of these pernicious substances, and to those habits which grow out of, or result from them, and then they were charged with the habit of intoxication, as if it were a national crime. How long is public opinion to sanction the custom of putting weapons of death into people's hands, knowing, as we do, at the same time their danger, and of making those who receive them alone responsible for the evils which ensue, while we are permitted to go un- injured and perhaps unblamed ! I am half disposed, my young friends, to present you in this place, with one of Penn's early letters to the Indians, sent over to 58 SKETCHES OF America by Jiis friends who first settled in tlie new colony, Pennsylvania. It breathes such a spirit of kindness, and lets you so completely into the good man's character, without being at the same time long enough to be tedious, that I am sure it will be read with very great pleasure. I suppose it was interpreted to them by some of those who understood both lansfuaoes. "London, Sth aioiilh, 1681. " My Friends, — TIicil^ is a great God and Power which hath made the world and all things therein, to v/liom you and I and all people owe their being and well being, and to whom you and I must one day give an account for all that we have done in this world. " This great God has written .his law in our hearts, by which we are taught and commanded to love and to help and to do good to one another. Now this great God hath been pleased to make mc concerned in WILLIAM PENN. 59 your part of the world ; and the king of the country where I hve, hath given me a great province therein ; but 1 desire to enjoy it with your love and consent, that we may always live together as neighbors and friends ; else what would the great God do to us, who hath made us (not to devour or destroy one another, but) to live soberly and kindly together in the world ? " Now I would have you well observe that I am very sensible of the unkindness and injustice which have been too much exercised towards you, by the people of these parts of the world, who have sought to make great advantages by you, rather than to be examples of goodness and patience unto you. This, I hear, hath been a matter of trouble to you, and hath caused great grudging and animosities, sometimes to the shedding of blood, which hath made the great God angry. ^' But T am not such a man, as is well 60 SKETCHES OF known in my own country. I have great love and regard toward you, and desire to win and gain your love and friendship by a kind, just and peaceable life ; and the peo- ple I send among you are of the same mind, and shall, in all things, behave themselves accordingly. And if, in any thing, any shall offend you or your people, you shall have a full and speedy satisfaction for the same, by an equal number of just men on both sides, that by no means you may have just occasion of being offended against them. " I shall shortly come to see you myself, at which time we may more largely and freely confer and discourse of these matters. In the mean time, I have sent my commissioners to treat with you about land and a firm league of peace. Let me desire you to be kind to them and the people, and receive the presents and tokens which I have sent you, as a testi- mony of my good will to you, and of my WILLIAM PENN. 61 resolution to live justly, peaceably, and friendly with you. I am your loving friend, " William Penn." That these sentiments were not intended merely to quiet the Indians, but to show that what he thus promised he meant to fulfil, if possible, I will make an extract from the directions which he gave to his friends — some of the leading men, I mean — who had to be concerned with the Indians. " Be tender of offending the Indians, and hearken, by honest spies, if you can hear that any body inveighs the Indians not to sell, or to stand off and raise the value upon you. You cannot want those that will inform you ; but, to soften them to me and the people, let them know that you are come to sit down lovingly among them. Let my letter and conditions with my purchasers, about just dealing, be read in their tongue, that they may see we have good in our eye, equal with 6 62 SKETCHES OF our own Interest ; and after reading ray letter and the said conditions, then present their kings with what I send them, and make a friendship and league with them according to these conditions, which carefully observe, and get them to comply with you. Be grave ; they love not to be smiled npon.^'' WILLIAM PENN. 63 CHAPTER IV. Death of Penn's mother. His affection for her. His thoughts turned to America. Resolves to go there. His advice to his children on leaving them. He sets sail. Incidents of the voyage. Arrival at Newcastle. About this time, namely, about the begin- ning of the year 1682, Penn was afflicted by the loss of his mother. The death of a pa- rent must, in any event, be a great trial ; but it must be especially so in the case of so good a mother as Penn's had been. She had always stood, as it were, between him and his father ; and as I have already told you, had comforted and sustained him when banished from his home. But he felt it to be not only his highest wisdom but his duty to submit, without murmuring, to the dispensations of Heaven, and he was rather disposed to be 64 SKETCHES OF grateful that her life had been spared so long, than to mourn that, in a good old age, she was taken away. He had, moreover, arrived at a period of life, and was engaged in a species of employ- ment, that left him less time to think of the dead than of the living. He had a great deal to do in providing for and advising in regard to his new settlement. An opportunity now offering, he bought a new tract of land adjoin- ing to it on the west, which made him the possessor of quite a large province. It was at this period, also, or not far from it, that he was called to prepare a constitution, or form of government, for his new province of Penn- sylvania, As my readers have already seen, in his letter to the Indians, Penn had been long meditating a visit to his colony in America. He was pained at tlie thought of leaving his family, but he thought it a Christian duty to do so. Before lie set sail, however, he drew WILLIAM PENN. 65 up, in the form of a letter, a series of instruc- tions and rules for the conduct of his children, which he left in the hands of their mother, with a request that they might be often read by and with them, and as he might never return, he wished them to be regarded as bis dying bequest. I have selected a part of them for my readers. They are richly worth perusing, and even studying. " My Dear Children, " That are the gifts and mercies of the God of your tender father ; hear my counsel, and lay it up in your hearts. Love it more than treasure, and follow it ; and you shall be blessed here, and happy hereafter. " In the first place, ' remember your Creator in the days of your youth.' It was the glory of Israel in the second of Jeremiah : and how did God bless Josiah because he feared him in his youth ! and so he did Jacob, Joseph, and Moses. O, my dear 6* 66 SKETCHES OF children, remember and fear and serve him who made you, and gave you to me and your dear mother ; that you may live to him and glorify him in your generations ! " To do this, in your youthful days seek after the Lord, that you may find him ; remembering his great love in creating you ; and that you are not beasts, plants, or stones, but that he has kept you, and given you his grace within and substance without, and provided plentifully for you. This remember in your youth, that you may be kept from the evil of the world ; for in age it will be harder to overcome the temptations of it. " Wherefore, my dear children, eschew the appearance of evil, and love and cleave to that in your hearts which shows you evil from good, and tells you when you do amiss, and reproves you for it. It is the light of Christ that he has given you for your salvation. If you do this and follow my counsel, God will bless you in this world, WILLIAM FENN. 67 and give you an inheritance in that which shall never have an end. For the light of Jesus is of a purifying nature ; it seasons those who love it and take heed to it ; and never leaves such, till it has brought them to the city of God, that has foundations. O that ye may be seasoned with the gracious nature of it! Hide it in your hearts, and flee, my dear children, from all youthful lusts ; the vain sports, pastimes and pleasures of the world ; ' redeeming the time, because the days are evil !' You are now beginning to hve. What would some give for your time ; Oh I I could have lived better, were I, as you, in the flower of youth. Therefore love and fear the Lord, and delight to wait on the Lord God of your father and mother. " Next, be obedient to your dear mother, a woman whose virtue and good name are an honor to you ; for she hath been exceeded by none in her time for her plainness, integrity, industry, humanity, virtue and 68 SKETCHES OF good understanding; qualities not usual among women of her worldly condition and quality. Therefore honor and obey her, my dear children, as your mother and your father's love and delight ; nay, love her too, for she loved your father with a deep and upright love, and though she be of a delicate constitution and noble spirit, yet she descend- ed to the utmost tenderness and care for you, performing the most painful acts of service to you in your infancy, as a mother and a nurse too. I charge you, before the Lord, honor and obey, love and cherish your dear mother. " Next, betake yourselves to some honest industrious course of life ; and that, not of sordid covetousness, but for example, and to avoid idleness. And if you change your condition and marry, choose, with the knowledge and consent of your mother, if living, or of guardians, or those that have the charge of yoiu Mind neither beauty nor WILLIAM PExNN. 69 riches, but the fear of the Lord, and a sweet and amiable disposition, such as you can love above all this world, and that may make your habitations pleasant and desirable to you. " And being married, be tender, affection- ate, patient and meek. Live in the fear of the Lord, and he will bless you and your offspring. Be sure to live within compass ; borrow not, neither be beholden to any. Ruin not yourselves by kindness to others ; for that exceeds the due bounds of friendship, neither will a true friend expect it. Small matters I heed not. '' Let your industry and parsimony go no further than for a sufficiency for life, and to make a provision for your children, and that in moderation, if the Lord gives you any. I charge you help the poor and needy ; let the Lord have a voluntary share of your income for the good of the poor, for we are TO SKETCHES OF all his creatures ; remembering that ' he that giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord.' " Know well your Incomings, and your outgoings may be better regulated. Love not money nor the world ; use them only, and they will serve you ; but if you love them, you serve them, which will debase your spirits as well as offend the Lord. ^' Pity the distressed, and hold out a hand of help to them ; it may be your case ; and as you mete to others, God will mete to you again. " Be humble and gentle in your conversa- tion ; of few words, I charge you ; but always pertinent when you speak, hearing out before you attempt to answer, and then speaking as if you would persuade, not impose. " Affront none, neither avenge the affronts that are done to you ; but forgive, and you shall be forgiven of your heavenly Father. ^' In making friends, consider well first ; WILLIAM PENN. 71 and when you are fixed, be true ; not waver- ing by reports, nor deserting in affliction, for that becomes not the good and virtuous. " Watch against anger, neither speak nor act in it ; for, like drunkenness, it makes a man a beast, and throws people into despe- rate inconveniences. " Avoid flatterers, for they are thieves in disguise ; their praise is costly, designing to get by those they bespeak ; they are the worst of creatures ; they lie to flatter, and flatter to cheat ; and, which is worse, if you believe them, you cheat yourselves, most dangerously. But the virtuous, though poor, love, cherish, and prefer. Remember David, who, asking the Lord, *' Who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell upon thy holy hill ? ' — answers, ' He that walketh up- rightly, worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart ; in whose eyes the vile person is contemned, but honoreth them who fear the Lord.' 72 SKETCHES OF " Next, my children, be temperate in all things ; in your diet, for that is physic by prevention ; it keeps, nay, it makes people healthy, and their generation sound. This is exclusive of the spiritual advantage it brings. Be also plain in your apparel ; keep out that lust which reigns too much over some ; let your virtues be your ornaments, remembering ^ life is more than food, and the body than raiment.' Let your furniture be simple and cheap. Avoid pride, avarice, and luxury. Read my 'No Cross, No Crown. ^ There is instruction. Make your conversation with the most eminent for wisdom and piety ; and shun all wicked men, as you hope for the blessing of God, and the comfort of your father's living and dying prayers. Be sure you speak no evil of any, no, not of the meanest ; much less of your superiors, — as magistrates, guardians, tutors, teachers, and elders in Christ. *'Be no busy bodies; meddle not with WILLIAM PENN. 73 Other folks' matters, but when m conscience and duty pressed ; for it procures trouble, and is ill manners, and very unseemly to wise men. " In your families, remember Abraham, Moses, and Joshua, their integrity to the Lord ; and do as you have them for exam- ples. " Let the fear and service of the living God be encouraged in your houses, and that plain- ness, sobriety and moderation in all things, as becometh God's chosen people ; and as I ad- vise you, my beloved children, do you coun- sel yours, if God should give you any. Yea, I counsel and command them as my poste- rity, that they love and serve the Lord God with an upright heart, that he may bless you and yours from generation to generation. ^'Finally, my children, love one another with a true endeared love, and your dear re- lations on both sides, and take care to preserve tender affection in your children to each 7 74 SKETCHES OF Other; so may God, that hath blessed me with his abundant mercies_, both of this and the other and better life, be with you all, guide you by his counsel, bless you, and bring you to his eternal glory ! that you may shine, my dear children, in the firmament of God's power, with the blessed spirits of the just, that celestial family, praising and adoring him, the God and Father of it, for ever." Having bid farewell to his family, he sailed in the ship Welcome, for America. A new persecution against his brethren, the Friends, had just broken out in England, so that they were at this time fleeing, in great numbers, to America ; and nearly one hundred went out in the same vessel with Penn. Nothing oc- curred which was remarkable during the pas- sage, except the breaking out of the small pox on board of the vessel, of which about thirty passengers died. Their sickness and suffering gave free scope to the benevolence WILLIAM PENN. 75 of such a man as Penn. He was almost con- stantly among the sufferers, endeavoring, in one way or another, to afford them relief. Some of the books which mention this voyage, say that they were more than six months on the passage ; but this cannot be true. They were probably something more than two. They sailed from England in August, 1682, and landed at Newcastle in the Delaware, October 24. The place of their landino^ ou-'ht to be remembered with the same sort of regard as we remember Ply- mouth, the landing place of the Puritans. After taking possession of the country, and making a few other necessary arrangements, Penn called together a general assembly of his people, in order to confirm the laws and regulations he had prepared for their govern- ment, while in England. The constitution he had formed would be too long for insertion here. I will only say, that his leading principle, and that on which 76 SKETCHES OF he based the whole constitution, was religion ; that vital religion which has its root in the heart, and which by its pure spirit governs our actions ; and tliat, next to religion, he took care to make provision for mental instruction. One article of the constitution required that public schools should be established, and that every child should be taught to read and write, " till arrived at the age of twelve, after which he was to learn some useful trade or profession, and so be preserved, at once, from the dangers of ignorance and the temptations of idleness." He only allowed of punishment by death in cases of murder or treason against the state ; all other crimes were to be punished by solitary confinement and useful employment. The mention I have just made of his attention to education, reminds me of his enlarged views of that subject. He often spoke of the great importance of a virtuous WILLIAM PENN. 77 education for youth. The following is extracted from some of his writings. " I take the freedom to say, that, if we would preserve our government, we must endear it to the people. To do this, besides the necessity of presenting just and wise things, we must secure the youth. This is not to be done but by the amendment of their way of education. The government is a sort of trustee for the youth, who, though now minors, yet will have the government when we are gone. Therefore depress vice, and cherish virtue ; that through good education they may become good, which will truly render them happy in this world, and a ^ood way fitted for that which is to come." The following will give us some idea of what be thought a good education consisted in. How different his notion of it from that narrow one which often prevails, even in our time, when we boast so much of improve- ment in these matters. 7* 78 SKETCHES OF ^' If we went to Windsor Castle, or Hampton Court, it would be strange not to observe and remember the situation, the building, the gardens, the fountains, he, that make up the beauty and pleasure of such a seat. " And yet how few people know themselves ! No, not their own bodies, the houses of their minds, the most curious structure of the world, a living , walking tabernacle ; nor of the world of which it was made, and out of which it is fed, which it would be so much our benefit as well as our pleasure to know. " The world is a great and stately volume of natural things, and may not improperly be styled the hieroglyphics of a better. But alas ! how very few leaves of it do we seriously turn over ! This ought to be the subject of the education of our youth, who, at twenty, when they should be fit for business, know nothing of it. " It would go WILLIAM PENN. 79 a great way to caution and direct people in their use of the world, were they better studied and knowing in the creation of it. For how could men find the conscience to abuse it, while they should see the great Creator look them in the face, in all and every part thereof?" It is a proof also of his great love for the diffusion of knowledge, that he left his library — a very valuable one — a legacy to the public. If it should surprise some persons that a great and good man, who was truly friendly to education and religion, did not do more to educate and Christianize the Indians, the reply is, that Penn probably thought there was a great work of preparation to be made, in the first place. As a skilful farmer first prepares his ground before he sows his seed, so it seemed to be the object of Penn to gain first the full confidence of the Indians, and lead them gradually, by a love of the 80 SKETCHES OF fruits, to seek, for themselves, the tree of knowledge and excellence from which they were derived. And if the followers of Penn had all pursued the same course of conduct with himself, such in all probability might have been the final result. The Indians called Penn by the name of Onas.'* They more than merely esteemed him ; they loved him as a father. They often expressed their affection for him in very strong terms. Their love and respect for him has been handed down to their posterity. As an evidence of their esteem for him, may be mentioned the saying of an Indian chief, at a treaty held at Philadelphia, about the year 1740, that he was a very wise and good man, and that he hoped that when his soul ascend- ed to God, a person might be found to govern the province who was just hke him. * Onas, in the Indian language, signified a quill. This may possibly account for the name which they gave to their friend Penn. WILLIABI FENN. 81 CHAPTER V. Penn's treaty with the Indians. The ehii tree at Ken- sington. Anecdotes of it. Scarcity of provisions. The Indians hunt for the whites. Founding of Phi- ladelphia. Directions of Penn about building it. Cultivation of the country. What was doing for the Indians. One of the earliest measures which Penn adopted after his arrival at Newcastle, was to gather together the Indians, and make a treaty with them. For though he had bought the province of Pennsylvania of the king of Eng- land, yet he was not willing to settle on it, without buying it fairly of its native owners. He had even bought it long before this, or rather, his commissioners had bought it for him ; but he was anxious to have a public meeting, and ratify or complete the agree- ment. 82 SKETCHES OF A day and place having therefore been appointed, Penn and his friends, consisting of men, women, and young persons of botli sexes, repaired to the spot, to meet the Indians. This spot was Coaquannoc, the Indian name for Philadelphia. When they arrived, the Indian chiefs and their tribes were assembling in such numbers that the woods seemed to be full of them, as far as the eye could reach. They were also armed, which must have made them look friditful enough to the whites, who were but a handful, and, as it is said and is most probable, had no weapons. But though the assembly was convened at Coaquannoc, they did not make the treaty there. They repaired to Shackamaxon, a little way out of the city, to the north-east, the present site of Kensington. Here, close by the bank of the Delaware river, stood an elm tree, which, at that time, was very large. To this the leaders on both sides repaired, WILLIAM FENN. 83 approaching each other under its widely spreading branches. As for Penn, he appeared in his usual clothes. He had no crown, no sceptre, no sword, no halberd. He had nothing to dis- tinguish him but a sky-blue sash round his waist, made of silk net work. On his right and left hand were his secretary, and a few particular friends ; the rest of his people followed in the rear. Penn himself carried in his hand a parchment containing the treaty to b-e formed. Before him were carried various articles of merchandize, which, when they came near the Indian sachems, were spread on the ground. The chief sachem now placed on his own head a chaplet, or wreath, in which was a small horn. This with the Indians was a signal that the place and the occasion were sacred, and that no person present had now any right to injure or molest any other per- son. No sooner had he done this, than all 84 SKETCHES or the Indians threw down their bows and arrows^ and seated themselves round their chiefs, on the ground, in the form of a half moon Then the chief sachem told Mr. Penn, by means of an interpreter, that they were ready to hear what he had to say. Think, young reader, if you can, what a solemn scene this must have been ! Why, the Indians, numerous and armed as they were, could have destroyed Penn and his party in a few moments. And yet we find them not only refusing to hurt a hair of their heads, but setting down on the ground, under an elm tree, and making a treaty of peace and friendship with them. Penn made quite a long and excellent speech to them. Then he paid them for the land, and gave them the presents he had brought. '' Having done this," says Clarkson, in his Life of Penn, " he laid the roll of parchment on the ground, observing that the ground should be common to both people. WILLIAM PENN. 85 He then added that he would not do as the Marylanders did, that Is call them children or brothers only, for parents were apt to whip their children too severely, and brothers would sometimes differ. Neither would he compare the friendship between him and them to a chain, for the rain might sometimes rust it, or a tree might fall and break it, but he should consider them as the same flesh and blood as the Christians, and the same as if one man's body were to be divided into two parts. He then took up the parchment and presented it to the Sachem, who wore the horn in the chaplet, and desired him and the other Sachems to preserve it carefully for three generations, that their children might know what had passed between them, just as if he had remained himself with them to repeat it." The Indian chiefs also made speeches, but they are not preserved. We only know that they promised to live in love with Penn and 8 86 SKETCHES OF his children, as long as the sun and moon should endure. It is to be regretted that a record of this treaty and of all that was said, was not preserved. It is one of the most remarkable treaties ever made, and one that was never broken. The elm tree, under which this treaty was made, was very large, and was standing till the year 1810, when it was blown down. Its trunk measured twenty-four feet in cir- cumference, and its age was ascertained, after its fall, to be 283 years.* Every branch and fibre of the tree which had once covered the head of such a man as William Penn, was of course regarded almost with veneration. Walking sticks, snuff boxes, and a variety of other articles, made from it, have been accordingly scattered over this and other countries, particularly * The age of a tvee is ascertained by counting the circular rings in the wood when the trunk is sawed ofl' One of these rings grov/s every year. WILLIAM PENN. 87 England. A large piece of it, sent to John Penn, of England, was made an ornament for one of his apartments, with the following inscription on it. "A remnant of the great elm under which the Treaty was held between William Penn and the Indians, soon after his landing in America, A. D. 1682; and which grew at Kensington, near Philadelphia, till the au- tumn of the year 1810, when it fell, during a storm. Was presented to his grandson, John Penn, Esq." To show how much the famous elm tree of which I have been speaking, was revered, not only by Americans but by Englishmen, it is proper to say that when the British held Philadelphia, in 1775, and were often cutting up the trees in the country round for fuel, and the elm tree became somewhat endan- gered. Gen. Simcox ordered a guard of British soldiers to protect it. When Penn first came over from England, 88 SKETCHES OF he found in his colony, besides the English who had come over the preceding year, two or three thousand Dutch and Swedes. All these people were greatly rejoiced at his arrival — the Dutch and Swedes apparently as much so as his own countrymen, the English. After his arrival, the population of the colony increased much faster than ever. Not far from this period the whole number in the colony was estimated at about 6000. Winter was approaching, and some of the people were not provided with houses. They went to work, and with the advice and as- sistance of Penn, erected huts, which, though not very substantial, were far better than none. The following is the general plan on which they were constructed. Each hut was to be 30 feet long and 18 wide, with a partition in the middle so as to form two rooms. It was to be both covered and lined with clapboards, and the space between the outside clapboards and the WILLIAM PENN. 89 inside lining boards, was to be filled up with earth, to keep out the frost and snow. The ground floor was to be of clay. The roof was covered with clapboards. Some, who arrived too late to build even these temporary houses, dug large holes in the banks of the river, where they were high and dry, and lived in them. These last were called caves. It was not long before the inhabitants of the new colony of Pennsylvania, became so numerous that there seemed to be danger of suffering for want of those provisions which they had not had time to raise, and could not buy from any neighboring settlements. But the Indians, who considered them all as the children of their good friend Onas, were ready to hunt for them, and to do every kind office for them in their power. Pigeons, also, just at this time were so numerous, that it is said the air was sometimes darkened with 90 SKETCHES OF them ; and they flew so low that they could often take them by knocking them down. Philadelphia, or the Great City, as Penn was accustomed to call it, seems to have been planned by him as early as 1681, but was not reall}^ founded till 1682. In planning it, he had shown great judgment and fore- thought, and its beauty and opulence will stand as monuments to future ages, of his sound practical wisdom. Some of the direc- tions he gave in regard to its arrangements, show also that in founding it, he had some- thincr else in view besides his own asrsfran- dizement. The following are extracts from the directions which he gave his commission- ers on the subject. They confirm the truth of what I have just been saying about his wisdom and forethought. " Let the rivers and creeks be sounded on my side of the Delaware, especially upland, in order to settle a great town, and be sure to make your choice where it is most navigable, WILLIAM PENN'. 91 high, dry and healthy. Such a place being found out, lay out 10,000 acres contiguous to it, in the best manner you can, as the bounds and extent of the liberties of said town. " Be sure to settle the figure of the town so that the streets hereafter may be uniform down to the water from the country bounds. Let the place for the state house be on the middle of the quay, which will yet serve for market and state house too. Let the houses be built on a line, or upon a line as much as may be. " Pitch upon the middle of the plat where the town or line of houses is to be laid or run, facing the harbor and great river, for the situation of my house, and let it not be the tenth part of the town, as the conditions say, viz : That out of every hundred thou- sand acres shall be reserved to me ten thousand. But I shall be contented with less than a thirtieth part, to wit : 300 acres, 92 SKETCHES OF whereas several will have 200 by purchasing two shares. *' The distance of each house from the creek or harbor should be, in my judgment, a measured quarter of a mile, at least two hundred paces, because of building hereafter streets downwards to the harbor. " Let every house be placed, if the person pleases, in the middle of its plat, as to the breadth way of it, that so there may be ground on each side for gardens, or orchards, or fields, that it may be a green country town, which will never be burnt, and always be wholesome." Thus did the founder of Philadelphia propose to lay out his favorite city on a large and liberal, and noble scale ; and every one who has beheld that beautiful place, may see at once, that its present appearance conforms, in no small degree, to the original plan, as described in the last paragraphs. The following paragraph will serve to show WILLIAM PENN. 93 what he was doing at this time, in the way of clearing and cultivating the country. It is extracted from one of his letters to a friend. " I am now casting the country into town- ships for large lots of land. I have held an assembly, in which many good laws were passed. I have annexed the territories lately obtained, to the province, and passed a gene- ral naturalization law for strangers, which hath much pleased the people. As to out- ward things we are satisfied ; the land good, the air clear and sweet, the things plentiful, and provision good and easy to come at ; and an innumerable quantity of wild fowl and fish. In fine, here is what Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob would be well contented with ; and service enough for God, for the fields are here white for harvest." Of the rapid progress of affairs, especially in the city, we may judge from the following sentences from a letter to Lord North, of England, dated July, 1683. 94 SKETCHES OF "About 80 houses are built, and I suppose above 300 farms settled, as contiguous as may be. We have had since last summer, about sixty sail of great and small shipping, which we esteem a good beginning. A fair we have had, and weekly market. 1 have also bought lands of the natives, treated them largely, and settled a firm and advantageous correspondency with them." But Penn's heart was principally, or at least very largely, set upon the improvement of the Indians. Such was his anxiety for their good, that we are told by one of his biographers that he laid out several thousand pounds to instruct, support, and oblige them. So intent was he on their civilization and improvement, that before the end of 1684, he had made treaties of amity and good will with no less than nineteen different tribes. WILLIAM PENN. 95 CHAPTER VI. Pergecution in England. Penn goes there. Solicits the king. The king's death. John Locke the philo- sopher. The new king of England. Penn's famil- iarity with him. This^ raises up enemies. A new book. The dissenters — among them were 1200 Friends — set at liberty. Tour to the Continent. Return. Arrest. Trial. Acquittal. Toleration act. Another trial and acquittal. A third trial and acquittal. Thinks of going to America. Attends the funeral of George Fo.x. Attempts to seize him again. His retirement. Is proscribed by the queen; but not taken. New troubles. Death of his wife. While all things were going on so pleasant- ly in Pennsylvania, however, news of a very unpleasant nature was received from Eng- land. The poor dissenters of that country, especially the Friends, were persecuted with great violence. So many of the latter, and often, too, of individuals whom Penn well knew, were subjected to fines and imprison- 96 SKETCHES OF ment on account of their religion, that he at length determined to return to England, and endeavor, by his own joersonal interest, to improve their condition. Accordingly, having made all things ready, he set sail for England, and after a favorable passage landed there in October, 1684, with- in a few miles, as it is said, of his own house ; and had the very great pleasure of finding his family and friends all in perfect health. He went immediately to the king to see what could be done for his persecuted brethren, and had obtained a very favorable promise from him ; but the king's sudden death soon after, left things in the condition they were before Penn's arrival. One kind act he was, however, able to per- form in favor of a fellow student, and a great philosopher. I refer to the case of the cele- brated John Locke. This man, on account of his opposition to popery and arbitrary power, had been deprived, by the king, of WILLIAM PENN. 97 his place as student at Oxford, with all its rights and benefits; and, as it appears, had fled to Holland. By means of Penn's inter- ference, the philosopher was pardoned, and allowed to return to England ; though he does not appear to have accepted the pardon, because he seems to have thought that by accepting it, though innocent, he would seem to own he had been guilty. With a view to cultivate an acquaintance with the new king, Penn now took lodgings for himself and his family near the court. In this attempt to influence his sovereign to acts of clemency, he appears not to have been entirely unsuccessful. He exerted him- self chiefly in behalf of those who were suffering on account of their religious prin- ciples. At length, he became quite a favorite with the king; and the latter did not hesitate to impart to him many of his secrets and coun- sels. They spent so much time in conversing 9 98 SKETCHES OF together that some of the peers grew envious. It no doubt seemed strange to them that his majesty should vakie so highly the society of a plain man, dressed in a plain garb, while others in their gayer dresses w^ere considered as only secondary companions. One of these growing somewhat impatient, ventured to tell the king one day that from his talking so much with Penn, it seemed as if he did not value his nobility very highly. To whicli, however, the king only replied that Penn always talked ingenuously, and he heard him willingly. Penn's intimacy with the king being soon found out. procured for him, in one respect, a great deal of trouble. Those who had favors to ask of the king came to him to induce him to intercede in their behalf; and many who would never have ventured to lay their re- quests before the king, had not Penn been his favorite, ventured to do so now. Hence his house and gates were daily thronged with WILLIAM PENN. 99 suppliants, desiring liim to present their claims and addresses to bis majesty. There were sometimes two hundred or more present at a time. It often happens in this world, that let a man's purposes be ever so disinterestedly benevolent, his efforts are not appreciated as they should be ; and sometimes they are en- tirely misconstrued. Thus it became, at length, with the efforts and labors of Penn at the court of James II. The king was favor- able to the papists ; and it was at length whispered abroad that Penn was only a papist in disguise ; and that he was secretly plotting with the king- ag^ainst the Protestants. Among those who thought so meanly of him was the very highly distinguished Arch- bishop Tillotson. A correspondence ensued between them, which ended in a full convic- tion on the part of the bishop that he had been in the wrong, and that Penn's conduct was open, manly and sincere. iOO SKETCHES OF It was at this period that Penn wrote and pubhshed a work, entitled .a '' Persuasion to Moderation." Whether this object had much or Httle influence on the minds of the king and his counsellors, is not known ; but certain it is, that a great change in their minds took place about this period ; for they issued a proclamation of pardon to those who were in prison for conscience' sake. Among those who were thus liberated were no less than twelve hundred of the society of the Friends. How must the heart of Penn have been gladdened by this triumphant and happy issue of his labors ! Well might he afford to spend his time, day after day, in conversation with the king, if the result was to become instru- mental in effecting such a vast am.ount of good ; for whatever influence his book may have had on the king's mind, his conversations are believed to have had much more. Nor were his exertions made on behalf of his suf- WILLIAM PENN. 101 fering brethren alone ; for multitudes of peo- ple of other denominations received their liberty in consequence of his untiring efforts and labors. When he had completed, in the most happy manner, his mission at the court of king James, he made a tour to the continent. After visit- ing various countries, and laboring with all his might to extend his views of freedom of conscience and religious toleration, he return- ed once more to England, The prejudices which grew out of his inti- macy with a king, who was now generally believed to be a Catholic, became at length so strong as to stand very much in the way of his further usefulness in London, or indeed in England. But the flight of the king to France, and the establishment of William and Mary on the throne, made the matter still worse, and even involved him in great danger of being persecuted himself. Now it was that he would gladly have 9* 102 SKETCHES OF gone to America, and sought a peaceful and quiet home in the midst of his friends of the new colony. But vvould it do for him, he probably asked himself, to leave the country in present circumstances ? If he were to do so, would not those who had been long en- deavoring to fix on him the charge of being a secret fiiend of popery, begin to think him indeed guilty ? On the whole, conscious of innocence, he determined to " avoid every appearance of evil," and remain where he was, at least for the present. But the flame was already so far kindled that it was impossible for him to escape ; for while walking in the streets of Whitehall, soon after, the lords of the council sent for him, and entered at once into an examination of his condu.ct. Being permitted to defend himself, he pleaded his own case in the most simple and unaffected manner ; but what he said did not seem to satisfy them. He was obliged to give security for his appearance on WILLIAM PENN. 103 the first day of the next court, after which he was discharged. But when the time came for his trial, though he came forward promptly and seasonably to answer the charges which might be brought, no person could be found to testify against him. Nobody was ready or willing to say that he was a Jesuit or a papist, or that he had secretly aided or encouraged the king in his attempts to establish popery. The con- sequence was that he was soon acquitted. Not long after this, the British government passed an act, called the Toleration Act, by means of which great favors were extended to all dissenters, and to the Friends among the rest. This event was gratifying in the highest degree to Penn ; and there is great reason to believe it was chiefly owing to his writings, conversations, and other labors. His mind once more turned towards Amer- ica. His presence there, owing to certain changes in the government, seemed indispen- 104 SKETCHES OF sably necessary. And he was the more wil- ling to go, because the object of his highest hopes — the passage of the toleration act, by which the sufierings of his fellow dissenters seemed to be at an end — was accomplished, and no work of mao-nitude in England re- mained for him to do. But no sooner had he begun to make preparations for his intend- ed voyage, than he was arrested by a body of soldiers, and brought before the lords of the council for another examination. The charge now preferred against him — strange to tell — was, that he had held a pri- vate and secret correspondence with king James, since his departure to France, — than which nothing could have been more unjust. It is true, a letter was produced in court, di- rected to him by king James, but which had been stopped by the way. To this fact Penn of course answered by saying that he could not be blamable for a request of this sort made by the king, which he never received ; and WILLIAM PENN. 105 that, though he loved him as a friend, he should be among the last to place him on the throne again, in place of a monarch much more excellent, if he had it in his power. King William seemed quite convinced of his innocence ; but some of the council having doubts, he was ordered to give bail for his appearance at the next court ; but when the time of trial came, no one coming forward to accuse him, he was, as before, honorably ac- quitted. Again his eyes were turned towards Amer- ica, but the threatened invasion by the French, during king William's absence in Ireland, greatly alarming the queen, she exerted her- self to the utmost for the defence of the na- tion, and in order to fix a dread in the minds of the supposed conspirators with king James, she published a proclamation for apprehend- ing many persons, among whom was Penn. Here then we see him once more in prison, and, in this instance, he appears to have lain 106 SKETCHES OF in prison, before his trial came on, for some time. At the trial, howeyer, nothing could be proved against him, and he was again ac- quitted. And now, surely, the reader will say, noth- ing could hinder him from going to America. But it was not so. The trials of the good man were not yet ended. He was destined, in the providence of God, to still further suf- ferings. Just before he was ready for departure, George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, died in London, and Fenn had the satisfaction of performing the last offices of friendship to him while living, as well as the sad honor of attending his remains to the place of interment. Here he spoke at some length, to about '2000 persons. In conse- quence of the secret efforts of his enemies, a plot was, even now, laid to seize him — on what grounds I do not learn — and officers were sent to take him while attending Fox's WILLIAM PENN. 107 funeral ; but arriving too late, they concluded to return home, without accomplishing their object. The old question was now revived in the mind of Penn, whether under the circumstan- ces of suspicion in which he was placed, it w^as proper for him to leave the country, and go to America. Were he to go there, it would not aid him, however, in eluding the law, as he would still be a subject of Great Britain, though in America, and could at any time be taken and brought back. But had it not been so, he was too honest and open and artless to think of incurring the suspicion of appearing to fly from a punish- ment which he knew he did not deserve. But as he would not fly from danger, on the one hand, so he would not expose him- self to it unnecessarily where he w^as. He resolved therefore to live in retirement in London. Accordingly he took private lodg- ings in that great city, where he employed 108 SKETCHES OF himself chiefly in religious exercises, and in study, and in receiving the visits of a few choice friends. The idea of living in retirement in a city, may be new to some of my younger readers. But perhaps there are few situations in the world where a person can be so retired as in a very large city. I have often wondered at what I regard as the superior wisdom of this great man. With his unbounded zeal to do good, few of our modern reformers would have been willing, as 1 think, to have shut themselves up, as he did, in London. They would have thought they were called to face danger and death, conscious, as they were, of their own inno- cence. They would have gloried in the idea of making a sacrifice. But not so with Penn. No man, since the days of Luther, has been bolder than he, when duty seemed to require it. And yet no man since the times of John and James and Peter and Paul, has combined WILLIAM PENN. 109 prudence with his boldness, better than Wil- liam Penn. While thus living in retirement in London, Penn was visited by his old friend Locke. The philosopher now had it in his power to offer the same services to Penn, which the latter had, a few years before, offered to him. But Penn, though grateful for the goodness of heart which prompted to the offer, refused to accept a pardon for the same reason which had been assigned by Locke for refusing to accept his. When he had been in retirement about six weeks, another proclamation was issued for his apprehension ; but though he did not en- tirely secrete himself, he kept, for the most part, in his lodgings, and was not disturbed. He spent his time, now, in writing, as it was the only means left him of doing good to his fellow creatures, and a man of his stamp could not be idle. It was by no means 10 no SKETCHES OF the sort of life he would have chosen, but he knew how to be reconciled to it. But now a new trial seemed to await him. The health of his wife, which had long been declining, rapidly became worse ; and she seemed to be in a very dangerous state. She was not so strong by nature as some persons, but it is highly probable, that the trials and hardships of her husband had greatly worn upon her. Woman is indeed distinguished for her fortitude : but she can bear her own trials far better than those of her husband. His enemies, in England, not willing to let him alone, now attempted to injure him in another way. Some little disturbances having arisen in Pennsylvania, during his absence, and the story of these disturbances having come to the ears of these British enemies, they immediately set about trying to convince the king and queen that Penn was not capable of governing a province ; and that Pennsylvania would be ruined unless the WILLIAM PENN. Ill control of it was taken out of his bands. At length the king and queen appeared to believe it, and they appointed a new governor. It was impossible for a feeling mind, like that of Penn, not to have been pained by such an act of gross injustice. Deprived, at once, of the hope of being a father to a peaceful and happy and prosperous colony ; of doing the great good he had meditated, to the numerous tribes of Indians there; of the friendship of the king and queen which he had so lately enjoyed ; slandered and reviled also by his enemies, and suspected by his best friends, and compelled to watch over the sick — and as he feared — the dying bed of his dear wife ; is it strange if so many afflictions, coming upon him at once, should have weio-hed him down ? But it was not so. He was as quiet as a lamb. He had a conscience " void of offence." He had cliosen God as his friend and father, from his 112 SKETCHES OF early youth, and this consoled him. He believed that, dark as every thing now seemed to be, all things would " work together " finally " for good." As his property all or nearly all lay in Pennsylvania, the new order of things had made him rather poor. But poverty, though it seemed to him an evil, he could bear very well, had it not been for the expense of a sick family. However, he was resolved to trust still in God. It was now that the tide of events began, once more, to turn in his favor. Some of his friends in England, who were men of influence, and who had long known him and watched his whole conduct and character, united their efforts and stated his case to the king. They represented him as a sufferer on account of his great conscientiousness, and begged earnestly that something might be done to restore him to the public favor and to his rights. The king was convinced of his WILLIAM PENN, 113 innocence, and made proclamation accord- ingly. Penn himself, however, does not seem to have heen quite satisfied with this way of being released from suspicion, for he afterwards obtained permission to have a public trial, which ended in his complete and honorable acquittal. This was about the year 1693. This was a time of great joy, both to him and his friends ; but to none more so than to his poor wife. It must have been a source of great satisfaction to her, in her w^eak state, to see her dearest earthly friend restored to his place in society, and released, in a good measure, from those most unworthy suspi- cions which had so lono[ hung; over him. But though it greatly encouraged her, and seemed to infuse new life into her, it could not save her — she was too far gone for that. She now gradually declined from day to day, till at last she expired in the arms of her husband, and in the joyful hope of a glorious resurrection. 10* 114 SKETCHES OF CHAPTER VII. Penn in his family. He attempts to recover his lost possessions in America. His success. His reputa- tion again rises. Anecdote of Fuller. Missionary- labors. Marriage to a second wife. Death of his son. He sails with his fimily for America. Phila- delphia. Penn's house. Pennsburg. The Indians. An Indian feast. Anecdotes of Penn. More troubles. Goes to England. Troubles in regard to his pro- perty. Ill conduct of his eldest son. Dishonesty of his steward. He lives for some time within prison limits. Mortgages his property to regain his liberty. Attack of apoplexy. His death. After the death of his wife, Penn spent his time almost entirely with his children ; and never, it is said, was there a more tender parent. But this every one may know by readmg his letter to them, which I have already mentioned. At length he made an effort to recover his lost possessions in America. For this WILLIAM PENN. 115 purpose he sent a petition to the king, stating in strong, but coirect terms, his case. In this effort, too, he was successful. Colonel Fletcher, whom the king had appointed governor of Pennsylvania in his stead, was removed, and Penn reappointed. The king even went farther than he had expected, and not only replaced him and declared his innocence, but stated that the troubles which had happened in Pennsylvania, instead of being any fault of his, grew out of his absence. He was now rapidly recovering that reputation of which he had been so long unjustly deprived ; and as the mass of mankind are ever ready to go to extremes — to praise to day, to persecute tomorrow, and then again praise more loudly than ever the next day — so Penn seemed likely now to stand higher in the estimation of his countrymen than ever before An anecdote will serve to show how things 116 SKETCHES OF now went with him. At the time of attempting to take him prisoner at the funeral of George Fox, an infamous wretch by the name of Fuller had sworn falsely against him, and it was on the strength of his statements, under oath, that the warrant had been made out. But now it was that Fuller's character had become more publicly known, and he had already received, for some of his mis- deeds, a disgraceful punishment. For a short time, at this period, Penn allowed himself to leave his family long enough to make a kind of domestic missionary tour through the counties of Gloucester, Devon, Somerset and Dorset, which produc- ed a good deal of excitement among the people whom he visited. Several years having elapsed, from the death of his first wife, he was again married. This was about the beginning of the year 1696. His principal employment, about this period, appears to have been that of WILLIAM PENN. 117 preaching. Why he did not go at once to Pennsylvania, we are not told by his biographers. In the same year, 1696, he was again afflicted, in the loss of his eldest son, a very promising young man, about twenty years of age. He died of consumption. His father had spent the three months which immedi- ately preceded his decease at his bedside ; for he was not merely a tender father, but an excellent nurse. It was not far fi'om this period, that Peter the Great of Russia, came to England to learn the art of ship building, that he might know how to lay the foundation of a Russian navy. Hearing he was at work in the king's dock yard at Deptford, Penn and some of his friends resolved to visit him. The Czar seemed glad to see them ; conversed with them very freely, and they gave him some books. He was so much pleased with them, that he afterwards attended their meetings at 118 SKETCHES OF Deptford, and heard them with great atten- lion. More than even this, howevero Sixteen years afterward, ' when he was at Frederickstadt in Holstein with an army, one of his first inquiries was, whether the friends of Penn held meetings there ; and on finding that they did, he and many of his Russian lords attended. In September, 1699, Penn set sail with his wife and children for America, to take charge, once more, of the government of Pennsylvania. They had a long and tedious voyage,. of about three months. But it was well for them that it was so, for a very fatal disease — probably the yellow fever — was, at this time raging in Philadelphia, and by being kept at sea so long, they escaped it. Of the precise mortality of the disease which raged and what it was, we do not now know. It is perhaps sufficient for us to say that when Penn and his family arrived, the health of the place was nearly restored. WILLIAM PENN. 119 He landed amidst a great crowd of people, and immediately went to the house of the deputy governor ; from whence, after resting a few moments, he went immediately to meeting ; it being on the Sabbath. The next day, he proceeded to take charge of the affairs of the government. All the people seem to have been very glad of his return. Even those who had been his enemies rallied round him and now became his supporters. The Indians, too, when they heard of the arrival of their friend Onas, were as glad as the whites. Philadelphia, at the time of his quitting it to go to England, contained about one hundred houses. Now, sixteen years later, it contained about seven hundred houses, though some of them had been almost depopulated by the fever. Penn's house was in Second Street, but it has now disappeared. There is an account of it, however, in Watson's Annals of 120 SKETCHES OF Philadelphia, and 1 believe a picture of it. There is a house — a feather store rather — - near Dock Square, in Boston, which was built in 1680 — that is, before Penn came to Philadelphia ; and there are some in the northern part of the city which are still older. Penn resided chiefly at a place called Pennsburg, which was, however, about twenty four miles north eastward of Philadelphia, nearly opposite where Borden- town in New Jersey now stands : at the very easternmost part of the State of Pennsylvania. The spot was first fixed on soon after his famous treaty with the Indians. But Pennsburor was not a villa2;e, as some of you may suppose. I believe it consisted of no other house but that of Governor Penn. It is very much the fashion with the English to give their residences a sort of family name. In the lower counties of Virginia, which was settled, as you know, principally by English WILLIAM PENIf. 121 people, there are a great many houses which have quite a distinguished name ; as Litch- field, Thornton, &c. Strangers in Virginia, when they hear it is so far to Thornton, for example, expect they are coming to a village : whereas, on their arrival, they find nothing but an elegant mansion ; with perhaps a few huts near it for slaves. But I was going to say a little more about Pennsburg. As late as the Revolutionary war, the decayed walls of the mansion house were still standing, though somewhat in ruins, and a hedge pear tree, growing among them. Near by was an old malt house and some other buildings, and an avenue of walnut trees along the road. Opposite, in the river, are several beautiful islands. There was a large garden containing many fruit trees, and there were pleasant fields around. On the roof of the house, it is said there was a fish pond; but I suppose it could have been nothing but a large cistern. 11 122 SKETCHES Of Penn spent much of his time, in the latter part of his hfe, amonoj the Indians. Some- times he preached among them. Sometimes he only made them visits, and ate and drank and talked with them. Sometimes, also, he received visits from the Indians. Perhaps you already know that many learned men have thought our North American Indians were of Jewish origin. They suppose that they crossed Asia, and by crossing, in due time Beering's straits, perhaps on the ice, in the winter, found their \\ay here. John Eliot, the famous Indian apostle, as he has been called, was of this opinion ; and so was Penn. This may account in part, for the labors of love which these two great men performed among the Indians ; but not wholly. They were both benevolent men — they loved their neighbor as themselves. The poor Indians were their neighbors ; they were in a most degraded and miserable condition, and the WILLIAM PENN. 123 greater their ignorance and misery, the more they wanted to enhghten them and make them better. In one of Penn's excursions from Penns- burg, he attended an Indian feast. I should like to give you a brief account of it. '•' The entertainment was given by the side of a beautiful spring, carpeted probably with soft grass, and canopied, we are told, by the overshadowing of lofty trees. Their repast consisted of venison, for which several bucks were killed, and hot cakes of wheat and beans." The entertainment was con- cluded by certain kinds of amusements of which the savages were fond ; and though Penn was a grave man, and not very fond of amusements, especially noisy ones, yet, for the sake of peace, he suffered them. I have already told you that Penn sometimes received visits from the Indians. The Indians chiefs and their wives — the kings and queens— were especially his favor- 1-24 SKETCHES OF it.es. Whether he ever made feasts for them^ we are not exactly told ; but nothing is more likely. Here follow a few anecdotes of Penn, collected from his life, by Clarkson, which serve to show his simple character, habits, and feelings. In going to Haverford, to attend a meeting one day, he overtook a little girl who was also going thither. He was on horseback, and the little girl was on foot and barefooted. Having fallen into conversation with her, and found out where she was going, he asked her to ride with him. She accepted the invitation, and though without shoes or stock- ings, and probably not well dressed, he carried her to the meeting. I dare say some people stared to see Gov. Penn come into town in such a plight ; but probably this would have made no difference with him. Another anecdote of Penn is related here, because it took place about the same time^ WILLIAM PENN. 125 and because it is somewhat curious and in- structive. A boy about twelve years of age, son of a man at whose house he one night lodged in his travels about Pennsylvania, being a lad of great curiosity, and not often having the opportunity of seeing so great a guest as Gov. Penn, privately crept to his chamber door, up a flight of steps on the out- side of the building, and peep'ng through the latchet hole, he was struck with awe in be- holding him on his knees by the bed side, and in hearing what he said ; for he could dis- tinctly hear him returning thanks to God for his protection and merciful care of him and his people, the Pennsylvanians. The cir- cumstance made an impression on the boy's mind that lasted as long as he lived. I do not, of course, undertake to commend so unmannerly an act as that of peeping into a person's bed-chamber, or listening to his prayers ; but the anecdote serves to show how great folks are regarded by children, and 11* 126 SKETCHES OF how eager they are to see them ; and that Penn, like Washington, was a man of prayer^ Great stations in life do not excuse us from lives of prayer and faith, but rather the con- trary. They should only make us feel the more need of God's blessing on us and those over whom we are placed. Penn, though plain, was very neat in his dress. Many people think that to be plain is to be negligent and slovenly ; but this is a great mistake. I do not mean to intimate that Penn was very particular in his appearance, but rather that he was cleanly. He was as neat in his person as he was in his clothing. He generally w-alked with a cane. His cane was his companion almost every where, even in his study. He was fond of carving likenesses of people, especially in ivory ; for wdiich he had consid- erable skill. Such however, was his sense of the great value of time, that it is said he but seldom indulged himself in this practice. WILLIAM PENN. - 121 Like Eliot, the Indian Apostle, he was a great enemy to the use of tobacco. I wish all those who have had to do with the In- dians had been equally so. The following anecdote will show how strong Penn's detes- tation of this filthy weed was. Several of his friends at Burlington being engaged in smoking one day, it was told them that Gov. Penn's barge was in sight, and com- ing up the river ; but they supposed he was going to Pennsburg. Suddenly, however, he landed in Burlington, and entered the very house where they had been smoking. On seeing him coming in, they had concealed their pipes, but the smell of the tobacco smoke was so strong, that he perceived, at once, what they had been doing, and in the way of a gentle reprimand told them he was glad they were at last ashamed of their old habits. Penn, though constitutionally grave, was cheerful, and sometimes inclined to be a little 128 SKETCHES OF W itty. On the occasion of his coming to Burlington, just mentioned, some of his friends expressed surprise at his getting along up the river with his barge, when he had the wind and tide both against him, to which he re- plied, very humorously, " that he had been sailing a2:ainst wind and tide all his life." Having a great deal of business to perform, Penn was a great economist of his time. He was therefore regular and methodical in all his movements, and in all the concerns of his family, even to their religious worship. In the winter, every member of his family was required to be up by seven o'clock in the morning ; in the spring at six ; in the summer, at five ; and in the fall, at six. Nine o'clock was the hour for breakfast, twelve for dinner, and seven for supper ; they retired to bed at ten. Prayer and religious reading were at- tended to every morning and evening, in which the whole family joined. The ser- vants were obliged, every night, to render to WILLIAM PENN. 129 their master and mistress an account of what they had done during the day, and to receive instructions in regard to the next day. On the days of pubhc worship, none of his family were allowed to be absent, unless sick or otherwise unavoidably detained. In the year 1690, a history of the Old and New Testament was published in England, with 260 engravings, each of which was to be made from a design furnished by some distinguished person. King William and Queen Mary, each of them furnished one. In general they were intended to illustrate some parable or some fact mentioned in the Bible. Among the rest, Penn was required to furnish one. The subject of the plate which he gave, was the Parable of the Talents. The rich man appeared sitting with his steward and others at a large table, where there was pen, ink, and scrolls of paper. Two of those who had received the talents stood near the table. 130 SKETCHES OF He who had received the largest share, had laid his five bags upon it. These the steward had examined, and he was then entering the amount of them in a book. He who had received the two talents was seen standing with his two bags in his hand, ready to lay them on the table when called on, and to deliver his account. He who had received but one, was seen kneeling with one knee, and with his bag also near him on the ground, and lifting up his hands and imploring mercy. At a little distance appeared the hole in the ground, from which the bag had been taken, close to which were lying the pickaxe and spade which had been used in digging it up. Penn was one of the kindest men in the world to poor people. It often happens that men who are esteemed great are rather back- ward to show kindnesses to the poor. But the poor of all sorts were among the strongest friends of Penn, and found in him one of their most bounteous benefactors. WILLIAM VENN. 131 He was a man of great sensibility. Those who were acquainted with him often saw the tears start in his eye at the relation of tales of wretchedness and wo; and what is equally remarkable, at the relation of peculiar kind- ness. The latter trait is shov/n by the follow- ing anecdote : Two missionaries, about this time, on land- ing in Bermuda, were immediately ordered to the Government House, and though still shivering and faint from the effects of sea sickness, were ushered at once into the pres- ence of the Governor. Such was the haste, and such the sternness of the officers, that they expected nothing from the Governor but rough usage, and perhaps imprisonment. But to their very great surprise, they were received by the Governor with the greatest kindness. He not only furnished them with refreshments and entered into friendly conver- sation with them, but finding how weak and feeble they were, lent them his own horses, 132 SKETCHES OF to enable them to proceed to their place of destination ; and the next day furnished them with horses to travel about the island with, in the fulfilment of the duties of their mission. When this story was related to Penn, by one of his friends, he wept like a child. But it is time to return to the thread of our history. We are now drawing rapidly to its close. After the lapse of a year or two of peace and happiness in America, Penn became once more involved in troubles. I cannot go into the particulars. I will only say, that the difficulties grew out of the envy of persons in England, and that he at length found it neces- sary to make a journey thither. He did not go, however, till he had made every possible arrangement for leaving the province quiet and prosperous. He left the care of government in the hands of one Logan, whom he had long known, and who was wor- thy of being trusted. Having done this, he WILLIAM PENN. 133 set sail, accompanied by his family, and after a voyage of six weeks, arrived in England. This was about the year 1701 or 1702. This appears to have been the last journey he ever made across the Atlantic ; for though he lived many years longer, he seems to have spent his days in England. He had not been long in England, before, as it is said, he began to experience new trou- bles in regard to property. He had spent much of his property, as it appears, in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, in various ways of doing good, and had been defrauded of much which he had not expended ; so that he had actually become poor. He did not, indeed, often complain of his poverty, though he sometimes just mentioned it. '' But I had rather be poor," he used to add, " with a loving people, than be rich with an ungrateful one." I ought, perpaps, to say, that he still owned property in America ; but it did not bring him in any money. 12 134 SKETCHES OF But his poverty was not his sorest afflic- tion, after all. One remained which it was much more difficult to bear.- He had been absent from home much, as we have already seen ; and there is great reason to fear that his wife, though a woman of excellent inten- tions, had not done every thing, in the way of managing the sons, that could have been desired. To govern children in the best manner, requires the united efforts of both father and mother. Not only had the father been absent from home a great deal, in America, and thus, as it appears, suffered his sons, his eldest son especially, to go a little ungoverned, but he had now taken a course which was likely to add fuel to the flame. He was living in Lon- don ; and a worse place for strong-headed young men, who had not learnt to govern themselves, could not have been found. There are a thousand temptations in every WILLIAM PENN. 135 city, but especially in such a great city as London. We are not informed exactly what the son did in London which grieved his father ; but only that the latter, to reform him, sent him over to America. This, however, does not appear to have effected the object, for the son became disgusted, or got into difficulty in Philadelphia, or both, and went back to England. In the year 1707, he became in- volved in greater pecuniary troubles than ever. This happened through the dishonesty of a steward, whom he had trusted too confidently. The result was, that Penn was imprisoned for debt, and though he was allowed the privilege of living where he pleased within the prison limits, yet the situation was by no means an agreeable one. In order to regain his. liberty, he mortgaged his property in Pennsylvania for six thousand pounds sterling. He was now more than sixty years of age_, and had seen a great deal of hardship. It is 136 SKETCHES OF not to be wondered at, therefore, that his health should begin to fall ; which was ac- tually the case. Still he was not wholly dis- abled from pursuing business for many years. His calm, even temper enabled him to bear the infirmities of age, as well as the troubles in which he was involved both by his enemies and his son, much better than he could other- wise have done. Finding the air of the city to disagree with his health, however, he re- moved, in 1710, to Buckinghamshire, where he spent the remainder of his life. In 1712, he had three fits of apoplexy. His next four years were passed in a state of almost entire helplessness ; though his mind was not so much impaired but that he could converse with his friends, and join with them in their prayers, and sometimes preach to them in short addresses. The pain of his situation was very much mitigated by the kindness of friends, and especially by that of WILLIAM PENN. 137 his wife ; for which he was particularly grate- ful. From 1716 to the summer of 1718, the powers of his body and mind gradually failed him. He scarcely knew his most intimate friends, or could walk without leading , and for some time previous to his death, he was almost entirely insensible. He died, July 30, 1718, aged seventy-four years. He had four sons and three daucrhters. William, the eldest son, who had given him so much trouble, seems to have remained in Europe. His three remaining sons, John, Thomas, and Richard, removed to America, and were all of them afterwards concerned, more or less, in the government of Pennsyl- vania.