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WILLIAM PENN.

HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY.

"In Monarchies the summits of a nation are rich with verdure and glorious with light;
in Aristocracies a broad table-land is fertilized and rendered beautiful ; while in Common
wealths, properly so called, the whole surface of society unrolls itself like a vast plain to
the sun, and receives the light and comfort and invigorating influence of its beams."
J. A. St. John.

WILLIAM PENN

Itt Bffefnral Stagraplit},

EXTRA CHAPTER

OURCES.

ACAULAY CHARGES."

.WILLIAM HEPWORTH DIXON.

MT COUNTRY S GENIUS WALKS ANOTIIER WOET.D. T. K. Hekvet

PHILADELPHIA:
BLANCHARD AND LEA.
18 51.

PHILADELPHIA:
FEINTED BT KING & BAIRD,
No. 9 Sat.som Street

TO
E. H. BAILY, R.A.,
WITH AN ADMIRATION FOR HIS GENIUS ONLY EQUALLED BY
PERSONAL REGARD,
THIS HISTORY IS DEDICATED

W. H. DIXON.

CHAPTER I. The Father's House. 1620-1667. PAGE
Naval heroes — Penn family — Admiral Penn — Birth of William — Naval com
mand — Family troubles — Penn at Oxford — Sent on his travels — Penn in
the army— Turns Quaker  ,\  13
CHAPTER II. In the World. 1667-1670.
Philosophy of his conversion — George Fox — Enthusiasm of early Friends —
Penn's influence — Reconciled to his father — Controversy— Sent to the
Tower — Conspiracy to ruin the Admiral — Monk and Rupert — Penn in
Ireland — Return to London  45

Vlil CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII. A New Democracy. 1680-1682. PAGE
Petition for a grant of land — Penn's intentions — Description of Pennsylvania
—The Duke of York — East New Jersey— Negotiation— The Petition
granted — The province named — Colonial legislation — Sidney's Sugges
tions — General laws — Locke's constitution for Carolina  173
CHAPTER VIII. The Holy Experiment. 1682-1683.
A tide of emigrants — Philip Ford — Markham in America — Penn's views as '•
to the treatment of native tribes — Voyage to America — Parting counsels
— Penn at Newcastle — The first assembly at Chester — Site of Philadel
phia — The new city founded — Indian affairs — The Great Treaty — The
constitution amended — Penn returns to England  189
CHAPTER IX. Day of Court Influence. 1684-1688.
Ellwood in trouble — Accession of James — Murder in Maryland — Penn at
court — John Locke — Literature of Toleration — Argyle — Monmouth De
feated — Penn's Mediation — Aaron Smith — Tolerance of James — A ludi
crous mistake — Tillotson goes to Holland— Declaration of Indulgence
— Magdalen College — Tries to bring in the Whigs — Landing of
William III  221
CHAPTER X. Night and Morning. 1688-1694.
Penn arrested and discharged — Prepares to sail for Americar — Act of Tolera
tion — Again arrested — In retirement — War in Europe and America. —
The King's design — Fuller the informer — Home-Exile — Robbed of bis
colony — Death of Guli — Consolations of Philosophy — Peace-Congress
proposed — Penn restored to his honors  260
CHAPTER XI. The Land of Promise. 1694-1701.
Feudalism and democracy — Death of Springett Penn — Character of William
— Penn marries again — The Czar of Russia — Penn in Ireland — Sails for
America. — Piracy put down — The Manor-house — How the Penns lived
in America — A new constitution — The Slave question — Indian affairs —
Colonial regulations — Return to England  284
CHAPTER XII. The Closing Scenes. 1702-1718.
Accession of Ann — Toung Penn in America — His father's troubles  The
faithless steward — Penn in the Fleet prison — Treaty for sale of his colony
to the crown — Story of George Penn — Penn struck with paralysis  His
gradual decline. — Death — Funeral  310
EXTRA CHAPTER. "The Macaulay Charges."  338

PREFACE,

William Penn has been called a mythical rather than an historical
personage. The accounts given of him by his professed biographers —
Besse, Clarkson, Weems, and Lewis — are sufficiently vague, lifeless, and
transcendental to merit such a censure. By far the best and most com
plete of these works is that by Clarkson ; but it has serious defects.
Beyond a reverential sympathy with Penn's religious ideas, the modern
philanthropist had no advantages for the task he undertook. He was
profoundly unacquainted with the history of the period ; he copied the
ignorance of Besse and others without misgiving and without acknowl
edgment. Of the families of Penn and Springett he knew absolutely
nothing ; of their fortunes and misfortunes, though daily affecting his
hero's life and character, no trace appears in his pages. He had read
only a few books, and those were of the commonest kind. Of the vast
collections of MS. papers in the British Museum, in the Bodleian Library,
in the State Paper Office, in the Privy Council and other government
offices, and in the library of the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia,
— throwing ample and authentic light on his career, — he had no knowl
edge, and of course made no use. I believe I may safely assert that
two-thirds of the facts now known about Penn were not known to Clark
son. His want of information, however, was not altogether his fault.
Since he wrote his memoir, now forty years ago, the sources of our
history, and more particularly of the seventeenth century, have been
much more critically investigated. Hundreds of volumes, letters, des
patches, family memoirs, private accounts and other original documents,

X PREFACE.
have been published. The chief of the contemporary papers, from
which I have derived valuable assistance, brought to light since my pre
decessor wrote, are the following :
The Professional Life and Services of Admiral Sir William Penn (from
family and state papers), by Granville Penn, in two volumes, 8vo. 1833 ;
The Diary and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, in five volumes, 8vo.
1848 ; Life and Correspondence of the same, in two volumes, 8vo. 1841 ;
The Memoirs of the Pennsylvania Historical Society, in eight (half)
volumes, 8vo. 1825-1850 ; Henry Sidney's Diary and Correspondence of
the Times of Charles IL, in two volumes, 8vo. 1843 ; The Annals of
Philadelphia, by John F. Watson, in one huge volume, 8vo. 1830 ; The
Philadelphia Friend, a periodical in which the Logan Correspondence
and many of the Founder's letters have been published, in eighteen
volumes folio ; Original Letters, illustrative of English History (first,
second, and third series), edited by Sir Henry Ellis, in ten volumes, 8vo.
1824 ; Hazard's Pennsylvania Kegister, in eight volumes, 8vo. ; Histori
cal Collections of the State of Pennsylvania, by Sherman Day, in one
thick volume, 8vo. 1843 ; Isaac Pennington's Letters, in one volume,
12mo. 1828 ; Kiffin's Memoirs, in one volume, 12mo. 1823 ; Original
Letters of Locke, Sidney, and Shaftesbury (Furly Correspondence), in
one volume, 8vo. 1830 ; Blencowe's Sidney Papers, in one volmme, 8vo-
1837 ; and the Ellis Correspondence, in two volumes, 8vo. 1829. The
information contained in these volumes was, of course, inaccessible to
Clarkson. But besides being inaecurate, his work is heavy in style. The
narrative lacks life, movement, and variety. It is laid out on a dead level.
The reader feels no throbbing heart beneath the flowing drapery of
words. I write these lines with regret ; my admiration of Clarkson as
a man made me for a long time unwilling to admit his faults as a writer ;
and even now I console myself with the reflection that his fame does not
depend on the verdicts of literary criticism ; it being not as an author,
but as a Christian philanthropist that he has taken his place with the
Howards and the Wilberforces of our recent history.
What I have said of Clarkson applies with still greater force to the
other three biographers. So far, however, as the personal history of his

PREFACE. xi
hero is concerned, Besse is truthful and authentic; and as he wrote on
his own immediate knowledge, and within a year or two of Penn's death,
he must be regarded as an original authority. The life by Weems is
fanciful and inaccurate, without being interesting ; it is an American
publication, never reprinted in this country. Lewis's is in the same posi
tion ; it appeared a few years ago in successive numbers of the Friend, in
Philadelphia : and I am not aware that it has ever been reprinted even
in Am&ica. All these are Quaker-lives : no writer has yet treated of Penn
as a great English historical character — the champion of the Jury Laws
— the joint leader with Algernon Sidney of the Commonwealth men —
the royal councillor of 1684-8 — the courageous defender of Free Thought
— the Founder of Pennsylvania ! This omission I have now endeavored
to supply ; with what success the reader must decide.
I can say for myself that I have spared no trouble in the search for
materials. Some years ago, a fortunate incident threw some of Penn's
unpublished letters in my way; and the perusal of these first suggested
the idea of attempting a new life. The sneers of Burnet, the falsehoods
of Echard, the bold misinterpretations of Macintosh, remained on record
unanswered ; and as I compared Clarkson with the sources of the history
— and particularly with the MS. documents preserved in the State Paper
Office and in the British Museum — I saw that, had his work been as
excellent in a literary point as it is otherwise, still another attempt would
have been justifiable. Then came out, a little more than two years ago,
the first part of Mr. Macaulay's History of England, in which these
errors, assumptions and mistakes were again brought forward, and with
more than their former emphasis. This decided me. I hastened my
collection of materials and began to write.
The original and unpublished documents to which I am chiefly indebted
for information are comprised in the following list:
i. Unpublished Letters from Penn to various persons.
n. Letters of Hannah Penn — his widow.
in. MS. Autobiography of Lady Springett — his mother-in-law.
iv. The Sunderland Letter-Book (Domestic, Various, 629), in State Paper
Office.

Xll PREFACE.
v. Warrant-Books of the Secretaries of State. Ditto.
vi. Pennsylvania State Papers. Ditto.
vn. Maryland State Papers. Ditto.
vin. New Jersey State Papers. Ditto.
ix. Papers of the Lords Commissioners for Trade and Plantations. Ditto.
x. America and West Indies State Papers.
xi. New York State Papers. Ditto.
xii. American Proprietary State Papers. Ditto.
xiii. Copies of Penn's Speeches, in Ayscough, MSS. 44.
xrv. The Sunderland Correspondence, in Birch MSS. 4297.
xv. MS. Records of the Royal Society.
xvi. The Correspondence of Arnout Van Citters — from the Government
Archives at the Hague.
xvii. Van Citters' Letters from the Family Papers.
xviii. Various Papers in the Egerton MSS.
xix. Papers and Family Information from William Penn Gaskill, Esq.
xx. A Collection of unpublished Letters written by and to Thomas Story.
xxi. An Account of Seizures made on Quakers, in Harleian MSS. 7506.
xxii. A Testimony from the Quakers of Reading.
xxiii. Lithograph of an Address by Penn to the Indians, recently discovered.
xxrv. Minutes of Quarterly Meetings preserved in Devonshire House.
xxv. The Register of the Society of Friends.
xxvi. A Statement by Penn of his difference wiih the Fords.
xxvii. Fenwick's Correspondence with Penn, in Harl. MSS. 7001.
xxviii. The original Mortgage Deeds of Pennsylvania.
xxix. Thomas Lowe to Margaret Fox concerning Penn.
xxx. Extracts from the Pinney Family Papers.
xxxi. The Axe Papers in Harl. MSS. 6845.
xxxii. An Account of the Seizure of King James at Faversham, hf4 Harl.
MSS. 6852.
xxxni. George Hunt's Account of the Oxford Affair, in the possession of the
President of Magdalen College.
xxxrv. Letter of Thomas Creech to Arthur Charlett, September 6, 1687, pre
served in the Bodleian. (Ballard's Coll. MSS. xx.)
xxxv. Letters of Thomas Sykes to tho same, September 7th, 9th and 16th.
(Ball. Coll. MSS. xxi.)
xxxvi. Privy CouncU Registers, 1644-1718, preserved in the Privy Council
Office, Whitehall.

PREFACE. Xiii
So numerous, so varied, and so important are the additions made to
the biography of Penn from these documents and papers, that I have not
hesitated to describe my work on the title-page as " from new sources."
The reader will find for himself what is new in my volume : — but I may
be perhaps excused for saying, that my researches have not only served
to bring together many of the scattered points of information respecting
Penn, — but, in the persons of Sir William and Lady Springett, have
contributed two noble portraits to our historical gallery — have added im
portant facts to the biography of Algernon Sidney — and opened new
sources for the history of our American colonies.
As for my chief subject, the Founder of Pennsylvania, I have endea
vored to make him live again : his throes and his struggles, his ideas and
his actions, his gait and his person, his business and his amusements, the
habits of his domestic life, the furniture of his house, the setting out of
his table, every thing that makes the individuality of character, even down
to the contents of his cellar, the inventory of his coach-house, and the
completeness of his stable, I have tried to bring before the reader with
the same vividness with which they present themselves to my own mind.
In this endeavor I can, even at best, have but partially succeeded : —
yet I hope sufficiently to have changed William Penn from a Myth into
a Man. Having devoted an Extra Chapter, by way of Appendix, to the errors
and accusations of Mr. Macaulay, I shall do no more in this place than
solicit the reader's attention to it, — and leave him to pronounce a final
j udgment on the case.
I have, in conclusion, to express my grateful thanks to the many
excellent friends who have assisted my inquiries or furnished me with
original documents for my work. For papers and family information I
am particularly indebted to Granville Penn, Esq., of Pennsylvania Castle,
Portland Island, great grandson and lineal representative of Penn, and
to William Penn Gaskill, Esq., of Rolfe's Hould, near West Wycombe.
To Peter Penn Gaskill, Esq., of Philadelphia ; to J. C. B. Davis, Esq.,
Secretary of Legation to the United States Embassy in London ; and to
Horatio Gates Jones, Esq., Foreign Corresponding Secretary to the

XIV PREFACE.
Pennsylvania Historical Society, I am beholden for valuable aid in obtain
ing information, papers, and scarce books from America ; and I cannot
refrain from expressing, in a particular manner, my sense of the cour
tesy of the Council of the Historical Society in sending me copies of their
minutes and other works and papers with so much kindness and prompti
tude. To the kindness of Jacob Post, Esq., of Islington— the author of an
excellent little tract on Penn — I owe an original letter and the interesting
autobiography of Lady Springett. Thomas Thomson, "Esq., of Liverpool,
is a creditor on my gratitude for several original documents of interest,
of which I have made ample use. Thomas Lister Jackson, Esq., F. R. S.,
has been good enough to place in my hands Penn's MS. statement of his
connection with the Fords, from which I have gleaned important infor
mation. To Thomas Thomson, Esq., of York, I am indebted for an exami
nation of his unique collection of Story MSS. ; and to Charles Gilpin, Esq.,
and to James Bowden, Esq., the excellent Secretary of the Society of
Friends, for the perusal of the rare books, the original minutes, and
other valuable papers preserved at Devonshire House ; as also for much
information from the admirably executed Register of the Society. To
Professor Walker, of Wadham College, Oxford, and to the Librarians of
the Bodleian, and to Dr. Bloxam of Magdalen College, I am obliged for
various communications and facilities of research. Nor can I forget my
obligations for much valuable suggestion to James Bruce, Esq., the
learned editor of the Gentleman's Magazine; and to Peter Cunningham,
Esq., the accomplished historian of London. To Sir George Grey, Se
cretary for the Home Department, I owe the privilege of inspecting the
various State Papers in his keeping ; and to the Earl Grey, Secretary
for the Colonies, the same obligation with respect to the national treasures
under his charge. To the officers of the State Paper Office I must express
my most grateful thanks for their kindness in facilitating my inquiries.
My learned friend, T. Duffus Hardly, Esq., of the Record Office, and
Colonel Cathcart, Deputy-Lieutenant of the Tower, deserve my best
acknowledgments for the trouble they were good enough to put them
selves to in aid of my unvailing search for materials among the docu
ments under their charge. To Bevan Braithwaite, Esq., of Lincoln's Inn,

PREFACE. XV
I am indebted for sundry letters and papers. Through the kindness of
Miss Pinney, of Somerton Erlegh House, sister to William Pinney, Esq.,
M.P. for Somerset, I am in possession of extracts from family papers
relating to the Taunton affair. To Charles Weld, Esq., I am indebted
for a sight of the MS. records of the Royal Society. My thanks are also
due to Sir Charles Trevelyan for his kindness in allowing me to examine
the records of the Treasury ; and to John B. Lennard, Esq., for the same
favor at the Privy Council Office. In conclusion, I must express my
particular obligation to the Government of Holland for their permission
to take copies of the Van Citters' Correspondence.
W. H. D.

84 St. John's Wood Terrace,
March 1, 1851.

WILLIAM PENN.

CHAPTER I.
1620-1667.
THE FATHER'S HOUSE.

Sir William Penn is one of the supprest characters in
English history. By the general historian he is rarely men
tioned, and there are some otherwise good collections of naval
biography in which his name does not occur. Yet in an age
of great sea-captains he stood in the foremost rank. By
the side of Blake and Batten, Ascue and Lawson, his courage
and capacity were equally conspicuous ; while in his profound
nautical science — his fertility of resource — his coolness in the
hour of peril, he was no unworthy rival of De Ruyter and
Van Tromp. If he stood second to any man in England it
was to Blake alone, — and the death of that great commander,
while Penn was still only six-and-thirty, left him without a
competitor in his own line of service. This fact was fully
acknowledged by Cromwell.1
There is a fortune in the distribution of historical justice.
The sea-captains of the Commonwealth are all neglected, —
even Blake, the second name in our naval annals, has never
yet found a separate biographer ! From the day on which his
ashes were cast out of the grave where the piety and gratitude
of the nation had laid them, venal writers began to ignore his
merits and traduce his fame. The neglects that fell upon
him, fell also on his comrades in glory. The splendid services
1 The discovery of Pepys led, in a great measure, to the discovery of Sir
William. His descendant, Granville Penn, has still more recently collected
the particulars of his public services in 2 vols. 8vo. 1883.
* 2

14 WILLIAM PENN.
of the navy were forgotten by leading men of all parties — and
Royalists and Roundheads agreed at least in doing a common
and continuous act of injustice to the sea-kings of the Com
monwealth. The reasons for this neglect lie on the face of
the records of that time. The navy was neutral and patriotic
when every other power in the state sided with one or other
of the factions. How could the cavaliers of the Restoration,
bankrupt in genius and in reputation, bear to admit the merits
of men like Blake and Penn ! They had been the captains
of Cromwell. Their genius had strengthened his hands, —
given effect to his will, — made England under his rule the
arbitress of Europe. This was not to be forgiven. Round
head writers had no love for the navy because it was not their
partisan. Whatever happened on shore, the old spirit of loy
alty to the law survived on board. The seaman knew but one
duty — to stand by his country. If king and parliament quar
relled, he could not help it ; but he shrunk with horror from
the thought of imbruing his hands in the blood of his country
men. Holland and Spain were his fields of action : " It is
not for us to mind state-affairs, but to keep foreigners from
fooling us," was the maxim of Blake; and in the worst day
of his country's troubles, the British tar would have scorned
to stand by while a strange regiment or frigate had dared to
interfere. This neutral attitude was his crime in the eyes of
faction. — There is another reason in the overwhelming interest
that attaches to the purely domestic history of the period.
There the marine played but an inferior part. The army
occupies the centre of the stage. We are conscious of the
fact even down to this day. The defeat of Van Tromp — the
fall of Dunkirk — the conquest of Jamaica, excite in us little
more than a glow of national pride and prowess ; but Naseby
and Marston Moor, Dunbar and Worcester ; — these are names
which make the blood bound and the pulse throb in most
Englishmen's frames though two centuries have elapsed since
the day of conquest and humiliation. The deeds of the mili
tary power were done at our own doors, — in our country houses,
—in our churches, castles and cathedrals. Halls and hearths
still exist on and around which the blood of Englishmen was
shed by Englishmen. In every county of the land the mate
rial trophies of defeat and victory remain ; and in our arts
polity and commerce still more lasting consequences of the
march and counter-march of armies. It is not so with the

WILLIAM PENN. 15
triumphs of the fleet. The waves of the German Ocean roll
over the scene of De Ruyter's skill and Penn's good fortune :
— not a single vestige remains of the deadly struggle for the
lordship of the seas. If we would see the mighty results
achieved by the conquerors of Van Tromp, we must quit our
island home ; we must visit the archipelagoes of east and west;
we must note the bated breath with which the once haughty
race of Spain now hold the last fragment of their great em
pire in the new world, — we must hear the whispering humble
ness with which the Dutchman still claims a settlement in that
Orient from which his fathers threatened to exclude the mer
chants of England. To be able to appreciate the merits of
these heroes, we must travel far and reason calmly : — but such
men can afford to*wait the judgments of a distant age.
The Penns were an old family in the early part of the six
teenth century. For many generations they had been settled
in a district of Buckinghamshire, from which they received,
or to which they have bequeathed, their name. A branch of
the house removed to the north-eastern corner of Wiltshire,
where they settled on the skirts of Bradon forest, not far from
the town of Mintye, in the church of which one of the family,
William Penn, who died in 1591, lies buried in front of the
altar.1 This man was grandfather to the admiral. Giles
Penn, the son of William of Mintye, married Miss Gilbert, of
a Yorkshire family, then recently settled in the county of
Somerset ; and the offspring of this alliance were, George —
who was brought up as a merchant — and, after an interval of
twenty years, William. George Penn, when he grew up to
manhood, resided much abroad, attending in person to the
management of his commercial ventures ; and having fallen in
love with a Flemish lady of Antwerp — a catholic in religion
— married her and removed his house of business to Seville,
in the vicinity of which city he passed many years of his life.2
His younger brother was intended for another service
Giles Penn, the father, was himself the captain of a merchant
man trading with the countries of the Levant and with the ma
ritime cities of Spain and Portugal. In this vessel the future
admiral worked his way from the lowest station to the highest,
under the immediate vigilance of his father's eye ; the duty
1 Gentleman's Mag. lxxi. 1121.
" Memoirs of Sir William Penn by Granville Penn, i. 2.

16 WILLIAM PENN.
of every grade was familiar to him, and he had thoroughly
learned how to obey before he aspired to command. The
merchant service of the period afforded more opportunities
for acquiring habits of coolness, courage and dexterity on
board than it does in these smoother sailing times. The Euro
pean seas were then more invested with pirates than the Chi
nese waters are now ; and the sea-robbers of Borneo and La-
buan are infants at their work compared with the Greek, the
Biscayan, and the Algerine who two centuries ago swept the
shores of the Mediterranean, prowled about the river-mouths
of Portugal and France, and even ventured to land on our
own coasts. These marauders possessed the fleetest ships
that ever sailed ; and they were manned by the most reckless
and daring brigands, armed, equipped and disciplined to the
very highest state of efficiency. The warfare which they
waged against the commerce of the west was peculiarly atro
cious : — they not only captured property, whenever it fell in
their way, but took owner and cargo with equal goodwill, and
sold them together in the bazaars of Tunis, Tripoli and Al
giers. It was usual for the trader to sail with his argosy :
hence his life was a series of romantic incidents, more espe
cially if his traffic lay on the shores of the Mediterranean.
He carried his cutlass in his hand and his pistols in his belt ;
and what was still more necessary to his safety, he trained
himself in a cautious, watchful and determined habit of mind
and body — prepared to sail in peace in the calmer waters or
to meet in an instant the most terrible emergencies.
In this school the- young sailor matriculated. When he
entered the royal navy he was at once selected for a post of
command.1 In an age when merit was the only passport to
eminence, he was a captain before he was twenty.2
He married early in life. While yet in the merchant service
he had become acquainted with a young, handsome and intel
ligent lady in Rotterdam — Margaret, the daughter of John
Jasper, an opulent Dutch merchant.3 On receiving his pro
motion the lovers were united, January 6th, 1643, and came
to settle in London as most convenient for the care of their
1 Granville Penn, i. 3.
2 " Truth Rescued from Imposture," by William Penn. Works (folio edi
tion), i. 497.
3 "Hath been heretofore pretty handsome, and is now very discreet"
Pepys, Aug. 19th, 1664.

WILLIAM PENN. 17
worldly interests.1 They took a handsome lodging near the
Tower, then the fashionable quarter for naval men, even for
those of high rank: and when his professional duties left
him leisure, Penn received and paid numerous visits and kept
up as gay an appearance as his scanty fortunes would allow.
At the age of twenty-one he was a fine specimen of an English
sailor ; he was fond of good living — enjoyed lively conversa
tion2 — had a taste for cool clarets, but indulged in no unseemly
prejudice against the warmer juices of the south.3 His frame
was strongly built — his face bold and noble in expression —
his manners had an air of courtliness, and his whole bearing
was that of a man born to rise in the world.4 With his edu
cation, and the personal qualities which procure powerful
friends, the way of life was open to him on his own terms.
In his ambitious fancy he saw himself high in power and
station, — and to crown his hopes, he soon found that he was
about to become a father. His resolution was to make him
self a name, — to lay the foundations of a noble and powerful
house. His family had once been rich ; it was his cherished
purpose, not merely to retrieve its fortunes, but to raise it to
a pitch of greatness beyond the day-dreams of his less ener
getic fathers. Nor were these visions idle ; what he conceived
he felt he could execute — and he did.5 In his profession
merit secured promotion. He had seen others rise from the
lowest stations to the highest — the cabin-boy become an
admiral.6 Why should not he rise too? The times were
propitious. Holland assumed the airs of a mistress at sea,
and began to treat with scorn the old claim of supremacy
advanced by the islanders. This cause ot. war was ripening
fast. Span, too, was growing more and more insolent. The
1 This date was not known to Granville Penn. It is one of the thousand
facts which we owe to the discovery of Pepys. January 6th, 1661, 2.
2 "Pepys, Sept. 8, 1660. The edition cited is that of 1848, 9.
3 "Sir — If my wits can procure me a horse, I shall not fail to wait upon
you to-morrow. In the meantime I drink your health in good claret and
wish you were well stored with it, I should then be a Turk at it indeed."
Letter to Gen. Langhorne. " Dear Sir, — 'Tis now grown cold, and 'tis
thought a cup of sack would be reasonable. Now the Malaga orangemen
are coming home, any of your men, by your order, might bring me a quarter
cask. I should be very thankful, and as thankfully repay." Letter to Capt.
Batten. 4 His portrait, painted by Lely, is in Greenwich Hospital.
5 William Peun Gaskell MSS. Granville Penn, ii. 565.
6 Heath's Chronicle, p. 198. Deane had been a hoynian's servant at Ips
wich ; Lawson, a common sailor. 2*

18 WILLIAM PENN.
turn which events were likely to take at home was a point
that occupied much of his attention. That the quarrel of king
and people would proceed to extremities he now, in 1643-4, felt
certain ; the men of moderate views on both sides had either
fallen in the field or had abandoned that moderation which was
necessary to a friendly solution of the difficulty. Falkland was
dead — Hampden was dead. These few words sum up the state
of affairs. The partisans of a republic openly declared them
selves ; the adherents of King Charles became more absolutist
than ever. Confusion on all sides, Penn saw that the strong
arm and ready brain would find an ample market. Come what
might he was determined to rise in his profession ; professional
rank would lead to civil rank and honors : — not to the highest,
perhaps, there being always a prejudice against new men in
England ; but the work he had begun his son would finish.
He would be well-born. He would live at home and at college
with the future officers and servants of the Crown ; he would
slide naturally and gracefully into aristocratic life. Should
he have a genius for military command — a faculty for con
ducting, civil government, there would be no' place to which
he might not aspire. Meanwhile, as a father he would do his
duty ; he would gain a name — a fortune — and powerful friends ;
would deserve rewards of his country and leave the rest to
the future.1 One smiles to think that the child for which
this career of earthly greatness was marked out was William
Penn !
The first business of the young seaman was to obtain active
employment. The dispute of the King and Commons as to
which should have command of the marine had just been settled
(1643) by the appointment of Lord Warwick, in opposition to
the will of Charles, to the office of Lord High Admiral.2 A
part of the fleet, stationed in the Irish seas, adhered to the
royal cause under the command of Sir John Pennington, whom
the king had vainly tried to make high admiral; but the
number of vessels was not formidable even at first, and cap
ture and desertion soon reduced them to such a state of weak
ness as to prevent their being troublesome to the chiefs of
parliament. If Captain Penn had wavered before, his doubts
1 Pepys accuses him of rising by means of bribery, May 4th, 1667. The
charge is absurd, — but it is amusing to see Pepys and the old woman sitting
up all night talking scandal of their neighbors.
2 Rushworth's Collection, v. 312.

WILLIAM PENN. 19
were now at an end. In losing his control of the fleet, he
saw that the monarch had lost his mainstay, for while this
power was in the hands of his enemies it would be impossible
for his fellow-sovereigns on the continent of Europe to send
him succors, however much they might sympathise with him
in secret : — ahd in an open fight on English ground between
the friends of liberty and the supporters of royal prerogative,
he knew the latter would be worsted in the end. He cast in
his lot with the popular party ; and Warwick, who divined
his nautical genius, gave him at once the command of a twenty-
eight gun ship, wliich had recently been captured from Pen
nington, and was then lying in the dockyard at Deptford
undergoing repairs. Her destination was the Irish seas, to
aid in the blockade of that island, and to prevent succors
arriving from France or Spain from entering the ports.1
On the 12th of October, 1644, he was ordered to sail, and
though Margaret was then in the most critical state of health,
every hour expecting to be confined, he would run no risk of
appearing to neglect his duty ; before day-break he went on
board, and at six o'clock, all being ready, slipped anchor and
began to drop down the river. This was on Saturday morn-
. ing ; on the following Monday, William Penn was born. On
receiving this intelligence, his father appears to have hastily
left the vessel and returned to town. It is certain, from the
log-book, that the Fellowship was detained in the Thames
more than a fortnight : — there is little doubt as to the cause.3
The child of hope did not disappoint its proud parent. It
was a boy. It seemed robust and healthy. Its form was
beautiful, — its eyes blue and full of light, — its head well-
shaped, — its face mild and intelligent. So far all had pros
pered. Assured that his wife and infant were out of danger,
he rejoined his crew, and by slow stages made his way to the
station assigned to him in St. George's Channel. In this
service he continued for six years, where he acquired the re
putation of being one of the boldest and most successful
cruisers in the fleet, — and the prizes taken from the enemy
improved both his fortune and his p^fessional standing.3 At
twenty-three he was made rear-admiral ; at twenty-five vice-
1 Granville Penn, i. 90. 2 Ibid. i. 99.
* Whitelocke contains numerous entries like the following : 237. "Captain
Penn took four vessels from the Rebels." — 294. " Three French ships taken
by Penn." — 528. " Penn come in with five ships."

20 WILLIAM PENN.
admiral in the Irish sea ; and at twenty-nine vice-admiral of
the Straits. In the latter service, he was much engaged
against Prince Rupert, whom he chased along the coasts of
Portugal, — and was the first captain who carried the renown
of English arms into the Italian waters. _ _ _
In the meantime his son had grown up into a promising
and graceful child at Wanstead in Essex, where his wife re
sided in his absence1 — and great public events, without paral
lel at that age in the history of Europe, had taken place in
England. Charles Stuart had lost his crown _ and his life ;
the hero of Dunbar and Worcester had leapt into his seat.
The change from the parliamentary to the protectoral govern
ment provoked no change in the admiral. He attended to
his own duties and avoided politics. When Cromwell an
nounced to the fleet, that he had taken the reins of power
into his own hands, he was one of the first to send in his ad
hesion, with those of all the officers under his command.2
For the next few years the hand of genius was felt in every
department of the administration. While the great powers
of the State had been in conflict, Spain had treated us with
haughty disdain, — France had insulted us at every turn, —
even Holland fancied we were no longer worthy of her rivalry.
Cromwell soon taught them better. Ireland punished and
Scotland pacified, he turned his resolute face towards the
continent of Europe. The Dutchman lay the nearest and
had most provoked his wrath ; but Holland was pre-eminently
a naval power, and in dealing with her his invincible infantry
was of little use. Genius finds its own resources. Resolved
to infuse into the navy, as he had already done into the army,
something of his own prompt and vigorous action, he sent
from the camp two of his renowned captains, Blake and
Monk ; but these men, though filled with an energy of spirit
akin to their master's, were nevertheless ignorant of seaman
ship. All that courage, activity and dauntless resolution
could effect he expected them to accomplish ; but he saw the
necessity of placing by the side of these soldiers a captain of
consummate nautical ability, and for this important post he se
lected the young admiral of the Straits.3 The Lord Protector
was aware that his admiral was not attached to him person
ally, or to his ideas of government, but he needed his services,
1 Granville Penn. 2 Whitelocke, p. 555. 3 Ibid. 570.

WILLIAM PENN. 21
and convinced that he was a thoroughly worldly man, sup
posed he would in time be able to buy him over entirely.
Clarendon asserts that the commander owed his rise to Crom
well : but this is an obvious mistake, as he was an admiral
already when the Protector was himself but a major in the
army. He gave him employment because he thought hin
the ablest seaman in his dominions — and the result justified
his selection. The power of Holland was completely broken
in a series of brilliant engagements, most of them fought
under his advice and in his order and plan of battle. Crom
well rewarded him with new employments and an independent
sphere of action.1
The power of Holland humbled to the dust, the Protector
next addressed himself to the affairs of Spain, and with his
characteristic vigor resolved to strike a double blow — one in
the West Indies, the other in the Mediterranean. Two expe
ditions were fitted out in the early part of 1655 ; Blake had
command of the one destined to act in Europe ; the other,
placed under the orders of Admiral Penn and General Vena-
bles, was ordered to sweep the Archipelago, disperse and
capture the Spanish fleets in those waters, and attack Hispa-
niola and Jamaica.2 But before the Admiral went on board,
he made his own terms with the Protector. Some property
that he had acquired in Ireland having suffered injury by the
course of the civil war, he demanded compensation. As
Cromwell gave his officers no chance of growing rich out of
the secret spoils of the service — as had been the custom in
the previous and was again in the succeeding reign3 — his ear
was open to all such complaints ; and in the present case he
admitted the claim with readiness and in the most cordial and
flattering manner. With his own hand he wrote to his agents
in the sister island commanding that, in consideration of the
1 "Truth Rescued," i. 497. Though ambitious of wealth and honors,
the admiral was certainly not a corrupt public servant. Iu 1650-1, he cap
tured in the Mediterranean several prizes, on board one of which were five
chests of gold and silver, amounting to several thousand pounds. His cap
tains pressed him to divide this money — offering to make it good if the
transaction were ever discovered. Of course he refused. He would not
even allow his wife to exchange a Spanish coin for its equivalent in English.
His son adds with much simplicity — "In those times there was too great a
watch over men in employment, to enrich themselves at the cost of the pub
lic." Ibid. i. 499.
2 Thurloe's State Papers, iii. 504 et seq.
3 Pepys' Life and Corresp. i. 401 et seq.

22 WILLIAM PENN.
good and faithful services rendered by the admiral to the
Commonwealth, lands of the full value of three hundred
pounds a year, as they were let in 1640, be surveyed and set
apart for him in a convenient place, near to a castle or forti
fied place for their better security, and with a good _ house
upon them for his residence. He made it a special — indeed
a personal — request that this order should be so obeyed as to
leave no cause of trouble to the admiral and his family in the
matter ; but so that they might enjoy the full benefit of the
estate while he was fighting his country's battles in foreign
lands.1 It is clear that the Lord Protector strove to attach
the young sailor to his interests, as well from this case, as
from the general reports to that effect which long obtained
more or less belief.2 But he failed in the attempt ; even when
the admiral was asking and obtaining these rewards of faith
ful services to the Commonwealth, he had already betrayed
it in his heart.
Ever watchful over his own interests, he had observed, even
when the power of Cromwell was at its height, that the ma
jority of the nation was royalist in opinion, and that the
reigning Prince held his seat only by force of his own daring
and supreme genius. The Protector could not live forever ;
at his death mediocrity would succeed to his honors and perils ;
and this mediocrity must fall before the will of the nation.
Nor was this all : — with the Commonwealth would fall the men
who had been identified with it, whatever their merits or their
services. But for his part he had resolved to rise. He cared
neither for Cromwell nor for Stuart, except so far as they
could minister to his personal ambition. Cromwell was
getting old, — and he fancied it now time to pay his court and
make his peace in the royal quarter. With this view he
opened a secret correspondence with Charles Stuart, then at
Cologne with his dogs and his mistresses, and a few of the
loyal cavaliers who had ruined their estates in his father's de
fence, and now amused his exile by their wit and their quarrels
But his secret was ill kept ; not only did the man most con
cerned soon become aware of this correspondence, but even
i Granville Penn, ii. 19, 20. 2 Pepys' Diary, Nov 9, 1663.
3 Clarendon, vi. 1— Ellis Orig. Letters, iii. 376, second series. The reader
will be amused on comparing Charles's own account of his life at Cologne
with that given by his Chancellor.

3

WILLIAM PENN. 23
some of his political friends, and his old acquaintance Sir
Harry Vane began to suspect him of inconstancy.1
He either remained unaware that these suspicions had been
excited, or was resolved to go through his work with a high
hand. On the 25th of December, a few days after leaving
Spithead, he sent an offer to Charles to place the whole of the
fleet under his command at his disposal, and to run it into any
port that might be designated for that purpose.2 It is impos
sible to relate this offer without indignation. Had the
Admiral been personally attached to Charles Stuart, he ought
not to have taken service under a soldier of fortune whom he
must then have regarded as an usurper. The cavalier who
stood by his prince through all changes of fortune may be
admired even by a republican : — Clarendon is as reputable a
character as Blake — and Falkland stands in history not un
worthily by the side of Hampden. But for the man who
seeks a trust merely to betray it, who uses his sword to
strike the hand he voluntarily swears to defend, no term of
reprehension is too strong. Admiral Penn's case was one of
peculiar baseness, — for he added ingratitude to treason.
Nothing came of the offer for the moment. Charles had
no ports, — no money to pay seamen, — nothing for them to
do, unless he had turned privateer like his cousin Rupert : so
with many thanks for the offer, he told the sailor to go on the
usurper's errand, and reserve his loyalty for a more propi
tious- season.3 The Exiles were not sorry to see Cromwell
attack the Spaniards; as they expressed it, every new enemy
to the English Commonwealth would be a gain to them. But
the offer in itself gave them the greatest hopes ; it was the
most considerable defection that had yet taken place ; and
counting on his ability to surrender the fleet at the earliest op
portunity, they at once applied to Spain for the loan of a
port.4 Cromwell who had better means of knowing what
passed in the Exile's court than the Prince himself, was soon
made aware of this offer and the result ; but he kept an in
scrutable silence, and the armament was allowed to leave the
European waters without interruption.5

1 Pepys. Nov. 9, 1663. 2 Granville Penn, ii. 14.
'¦> Clarendon, vi. 6. The Clarendon used in this work is the Oxford edition,
7 vols. 1849 ; the only one complete.
4 Mem. of Marquis of Ormonde. Carte's Coll. ii. 3. Clarendon, vi. 6.
3 Confident in his own genius, Cromwell seldom hesitated to employ a

24 WILLIAM PENN.
It is not necessary to relate the details of this famous ex
pedition. Through the incapactity of General Venables the
attack on Hispaniola failed. That the admiral was guiltless
of any share in the failure is quite clear, for he never went
on shore near the scene of the great disaster,1 — which would
have ended in the complete defeat and perhaps dispersion of
the troops under the walls of St. Domingo, had he not sent
a body of his seamen with Admiral Goodson to the rescue.
The whole army and navy were chagrined by the failure;' and
to atone in some measure for this unexpected reverse of for
tune, the naval commander attacked the magnificent island
of Jamaica, and at a small sacrifice of life added it to the
British dominions.2 The tropical splendors of the island
enchanted the young admiral : he examined the soil and
natural productions with interest, and after his return to
England often made those far outlying provinces of the
empire a subject of his fire-side discourse. But another
cause contributed still more to make this voyage and the
American colonies generally a theme of constant conversa
tion in the presence of the boy who was to be the founder of
Pennsylvania — the real or affected anger of Cromwell at the
failure on the larger island, visited equally on admiral and
general. They were both summoned before the council at
Whitehall. Venables threw the blame on Penn ; Penn threw
the blame on Venables. For reasons which were not stated
to the council, but which are evident enough now, the Lord
Protector chose to consider them as equally culpable ; and at
his instance the pliant council stript them of their offices and
dignities, — and consigned them to separate dungeons in the
Tower.3 This was a terrible blow to the admiral's family. While
her husband was absent on his professional duties, Margaret
Penn chiefly resided at the country-house in Essex, and her
known intriguer if he needed him. When Monk began his secret communi
cations with the Stuarts, he contented himself with writing in a bantering
postscript — "There is a cunning fellow in Scotland, called George Monk,
who lies in wait there to serve Charles Stuart — pray use your dilligence to
take him, and send him to me." Price 712 (quoted by Lingard, xi. 409).
' Truth Rescued, i. 497. 2 Whitelocke, Sept. 1656.
3 Granville Penn, ii. 140, 1. The substance of the examination is pre
served in Thurloe, iv. 28, 55 ; a glance at which will prove that the ostensi
ble ground of his imprisonment was not the real one. That Penn was not
concerned in the failure on Hispaniola, is evident from Whitelocke, 629, and '
rom the letters of Winslowund Butler (the fleet commissioners) in State Papers

WILLIAM PENN. 25
son was sent to learn the first rudiments of scholarship at a
grammar-school at Chigwell, then recently founded by the
Archbishop of York. The family, now consisting of three
children, — William, Margaret and Richard, — were living at
Wanstead when the admiral returned, was arrested and sent
to prison. The eldest son, eleven years old, a quick-witted
and affectionate child, was overwhelmed with melancholy at
these events. While in this state of mind he was one day
surprised in his room, where he was alone, with an inward
and sudden sense of happiness, akin to a strong religious
emotion ; the chamber at the same instant appearing as if
filled with a soft and holy light.1 This incident has been
regarded by some as a miracle, — by others as a delusion.
But is it out of the course of nature for a lively and sensitive
child, on the morrow of a grief so crushing, to fall into one
of those morbid conditions of the mind in which the thoughts
and the reveries appear to stand out as apart from the in
dividual ? The date of the miraculous manifestation is not
clearly fixed : the boy is only described as eleven years old,
but as his father was set at liberty by Cromwell within a few
days of his eleventh birthday, it is probable that the glory
which filled the room and the feeling which suffused his frame
were simply the effects of a sensitive temperament over-ex
cited by the glad tidings of this release.2 Not liking the still
life of his dungeon, the admiral had sent a humble petition to
the Council, in which he acknowledged his faults, and threw
himself on the Protector's mercy ;3 and Cromwell, who ad
mired his genius, though he no longer hoped to win him over
to his own interests, generously and at once restored him to
his family and freedom.4 But no sooner was he again at
liberty than he commenced a new series of intrigues. His
own profession closed to him. he pretended to give up politics
and public business, and taking his family with him he re
moved into Ireland, lived for several years in the unmolested
enjoyment of the estates which had been given to him for
faithful services to the Commonwealth, — and at the very time
was using his whole influence to prepare in secret a way for
the return ofthe exiled princes.5
1 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 92.
2 In the MS. autobiography of Lady Springet, I read of several dreams of
this nature. They were the common incidents of the time.
3 Burchett, 395. 4 Granville Penn, ii. 142. 6 Ibid. ii. 143, 167.
3

26 WILLIAM PENN.
During these years his son William rapidly improved, under
the direction of a private tutor from England, in useful and
elegant scholarship. He exhibited already a rare aptitude
for business, and his father saw no reason to apprehend that
he would not inherit to the full his own bold and worldly
ambition. In person he was tall and slender, but his limbs
were well knit, and he had a passionate fondness for field
sports, boating and other manly exercises. Altogether he
had made so much progress that the admiral thought him
ready to begin his more serious studies at the University.
After due consideration it was resolved that he should go to
Oxford.1 This was in 1659 : an eventful year for the admiral's
family and for the whole of England. In the evening of the
second day of the September previous, a feeling of unusual
depth and awe had fallen on the citizens of London : — it was
currently whispered that the Lord Protector was on his death
bed ! They who had hoped for as well as they who dreaded
this event, moved about that night with hushed breath and
anxious faces. Every man felt that come what would order
and public tranquillity depended on the life then passing
away. The royalist dreamed of a return to monarchy, —
the Puritan thought of his classic republic, — the soldier hoped
for a military government under the control of a council of
officers, — the traders, always in favor of established authority,
and always in the hour of change an unconsulted and a use
less class, wished to see Richard Cromwell quietly succeed.
More than one secret conclave was held that night in Lon
don, and various projects were announced by the more daring
spirits ; but the great majority of the people was held in a
state of low and anxious melancholy by the solemn scene
then enacting at Whitehall. Nature too was in harmony
with men's minds. As the night set in it grew unusually
dark. The wind then rose. At first it came in sullen
puffs and blasts ; but as the hours wore on it became a steady
gale. At midnight it grew a perfect hurricane. Trees
were torn up by the roots in the parks around the Protector's
palace. In the city, houses were un-roofed and walls and chim
neys blown down. Vessels were snapped from their moorings
in the river, and dashed against each other and on the strand.
1 Besse, i. 1.

WILLIAM PENN. 27
The uncommon darkness brooding over all increased the con
fusion and the fear. And through the whole length of that
terrible night the dying Cromwell prayed that his enemies
might be enlightened and forgiven : — " Teach them 0 Lord !"
cried the departing hero, " who look too much upon Thy in
struments to depend more upon Thyself, — and pardon such
as desire to trample on the dust of a poor worm, for they are
Thy people too." Next day he died : it was the anniversary
of the battles of Dunbar and Worcester."1
The news of this great event soon reached the partizans of
the Exile in Ireland, and for a time William Penn's removal
to Oxford was deferred. The admiral at once put himself
into communication with his Munster friends ;2 but on com
paring ideas it was thought unwise to take any formal steps
in favor of Charles. The genius of the dead prince had in
fused an energy into the march of government which served
for the moment to deceive mankind as to the strength of his
son and successor ; until that energy was spent, the courtiers
only dared to look on from a distance and watch the current
of events in the camp, — for /the army was now thoroughly
master. During the year next after the Lord Protector's death
the Penns remained at their Irish estates : William pursuing
his studies with his tutor, his father in secret but active cor
respondence with his friend Lord Broghill and other power
ful malcontents in the neighborhood;3 but as soon as the
intelligence of Richard's deposition came to hand, he saw
that now the time had arrived for decisive measures, and he
threw off the mask, openly declared for Charles Stuart, and
immediately set out for the Low .Countries to pay his court
and offer his sword to his sovereign. Charles was so glad to
see him that he conferred on him the honors of knighthood
and employed him in a special service.4 He employed his
time to good purpose. While the army was vacillating
between its duties and its wishes he was engaged in bringing
over the fleet to the cause of the Restoration ;5 and this point
was so far gained that in a critical moment Admiral Lawson
1 Clarendon, vi. 102-3. Heath, 408. Ludlow, ii. 153. The reader should
also consult Underwood, 12, and Thurloe, vii. 373.
2 Granville Penn, ii. 208. 3 Ibid.
4 Parliamentary History, xxii. 295. There is an entry of £100 paid to
him for this special service.
6 Granville Penn, ii. 216.

28 WILLIAM PENN.
brought his ships up to the Tower and there declared in favor
of a free parliament — which parliament it was well known
would recall the Exiles. When the new writs were issued,
the borough of Weymouth, without solicitation on his part,
elected Sir William to serve as their representative in com
pany with General Montague.1 After the resolution to bring
the Stuarts back had been carried in both Houses, Montague
being appointed to command the fleet sent to the Dutch coast,
his colleague went with him on board, in order to be among
the first to welcome the king into his own navy. The monarch
never forgot these services.2
The road to royal favor thus laid open, the admiral was
anxious that his son, — whose natural abilities appeared to
him of the finest order, and whose love of business and open-
air exercises promised a man of active habits and worldly
ambition, — should now proceed to the University. To Oxford
he went, where he matriculated as a gentleman commoner at
Christ Church in the month of October.3 During his brief
residence at college, Oxford was considered to be the seat of
wit as well as of scholarship : — and it deserved the reputation.
In the chair of the Dean sat the famous controversialist,
Doctor John Owen, an old friend ofthe Lord Protector, and
soon to become an object of royalist persecution.4 The young
and brilliant genius of South, long repressed by untoward
circumstances, had obtained a hearing, and he had now-
reached the distinguished position of Orator to the Univer
sity, thus preparing a way for the delivery of the noble ser
mons which are still regarded by lovers of our old literature
as models of grace and masculine beauty.5 John Wilmot, too,
was there, scattering about him those gleams of wit and
devilry which in after life so much endeared the Earl of
Rochester to his graceless sovereign.6 But the noblest and
most notable of all the ornaments of Oxford at that day was
John Locke — an unknown student in a sequestered cloister of
Christ Church, devoting his serene and noble intellect to the
study of medicine. Being twelve years older than Penn, it is
not probable that these celebrated men contracted more than
a casual acquaintance at college : in later life they met again
1 Ibid. ii. 209. 2 Ibid. ii. 221. 3 University of Records.
4 Life of Owen, prefixed to Works in 28 vols. 1826.
6 Sermons on Several Occasions, 6 vols. 8vo. 1704
6 Wadham College, MSS.

WILLIAM PENN. 29
— rivals in legislation, but grateful friends in the hour of
need.1 As he entered on his academical career under the auspices
of the royal brothers, he soon obtained a position in the bril
liant circle of his college. A hard student, he gave great
satisfaction to his superiors ; a skillful boater and adventurous
sportsman, he soon became a favorite with his equals.2 His
reading at this time was solid and extensive, and his acquisi
tion of knowledge was assisted by an excellent memory. For
a boy, he left Oxford with a profound acquaintance with
history and theology. Of languages he had also more than
the ordinary share. Then and afterwards, while at Saumur,
he read the chief writers of Greece and Italy in their native
idioms ; and acquired a thorough knowledge of French,
German, Dutch and Italian. Later in life he added to this
stock two or three dialects of the Red men. But his great
pleasure and Recreation while at Christ Church was in read
ing the doctrinal discussions to which the Puritan idea had
given rise. The profligate court of Charles had infected the
higher classes of society, even before the Restoration actually
took place ; and that splendid mixture of vice and wit, polite
ness and irreligion, soon to characterise the youth of England
generally, had slowly begun to display itself at the Univer
sity. But there were not wanting protests. Many of the
young men there collected, had, in their early youth, imbibed
better notions of religion and morality,: — and they firmly
resisted every attempt to introduce a more lax and courtly
ceremonial into the services of the Church. Other incidents
contributed to fan the fire of discontent. Dr. Owen, made
Dean of Christ Church by order of Parliament in 1653, was
ejected from his office by the Stuarts to make room for their
own partizan, Dr. Reynolds : a change intended, among other
things, to prepare for the introduction of a more picturesque
ritual than had latterly been in use.3 This measure was very
unpopular with the students of Puritan principles : and the
displaced Dean kept up a constant correspondence with the
members of his college, in which he incited them to remain
firm in their rejection of papistical rites and mummeries.4
Under this sanction, many of them, — and William Penn

' Christ Church, MSS. 2 Wood, *£¦ Pe nn-
» Life of Owen, prefixed to works, 1826. 4 Ibid. 1. 220 et seq.
3*

30 - WILLIAM PENN.
among the foremost, — boldly opposed the innovations of the
court.1 Yet it was not without pain that he found his con
science at war with the powers whom his father delighted to
honor. From the frequent references to these times made in
after life, it is evident that his sufferings were acute and long
continued.2 As the lights of truth dawned on his own mind,
he was surprised and terrified to find how dark all was out
side. Every where, to use his own expression, he saw that a
reign of darkness and debauchery was commencing;3 and his
only hope for the future lay in a vague but most romantic
dream that a virtuous and holy empire — equally free from
bigotry and the dead formalism of State Religions — might
one day be founded in those magnificent wildernesses of the
New World which had so often formed a topic of the family
conversation. But in this fancy his mind discovered a real
opening of joy.4
While the quarrel of Cavalier and Puritan was raging at
Oxford, an obscure person named Thomas Loe — a layman of
the city — began to preach the new doctrines taught by
George Fox. The neglect of forms and ceremonies in the
new ritual, attracted the attention of Penn and of others
who, like him, were in a state of revolt at the threatened
restoration of popish usages, and going to hear the preaching
of this strange word, they were excited and interested, and
returned again and again. Their absence from their own
services was noticed ; the superiors were alarmed ; and the
young non-conformers were all brought up and fined for- the
irregularity.5 This indignity drove them into open rebellion.
They banded themselves together to oppose the orders of the
court by force. The youngsters paraded the streets in a
threatening manner. They not only refused to wear the
gown themselves, but they declared war against all who did ;
and in the public promenades, in the gardens of Christ Church,
in the quadrangles of the colleges, they set upon and tore
away the hated vestments from the more courtly or timid
students.6 In these outrages Penn's English spirit was con-
1 6 Pepys' Diary, April 28, 1662. 2 Travels, i. 92. » Ibid.
4 Penn to Turner, Pennsylvania Historical Society's Memoirs, i. 203.
6 Besse, i. 2.
6 Lady Springet's MS. autobiography is full ofthe repugnance of Puritans
to the vestments of the clergy.

WILLIAM PENN. 31
spicuous : — and the immediate consequence was, that he was
brought up for judgment and expelled the University.1
On hearing of the first and minor offence of nonconfor
mity the admiral was grieved and astounded. The idea of a
child of his growing up into a fanatic seemed to his worldly
mind preposterous. For himself, though he pursued the
course of his ambition with unswerving resolution, he was
fond of relaxation, — often went to the play, — loved to dine
at a tavern with a set of jovial companions, — and was addicted
to all the genial weaknesses of a busy man.2 He little un
derstood the working of his son's mind; but a vague and
undefinable sense of coming evil cast a shadow on his spirits.
His friends remarked his clouded brow — the unaccustomed
gravity of his speech.3 The first thought was to separate his
heir from his present comrades ; and he consulted several
persons as to the wisdom of sending him at once to Cam
bridge.4 Then came the expulsion. This disgrace struck
the proud and ambitious admiral in the heart. When William
came home he was received with cold and silent anger. For
a time he would hardly see or speak to him. The whole
family was plunged into misery.5 But this stern discipline
produced no effect. The admiral observed that his son con
tinued in a low and serious mood of mind, altogether unna
tural as he thought at the age of eighteen, — that he avoided
the gay and pleasant society to which he had been accustcftned
all his life, — and he began to fear that he was not taking the
wisest course to reclaim him. He still wrote to and received
letters from Dr. Owen ; and would not admit that he had
done wrong in resisting the king's commands about the
surplice.6 The admiral had two other children ; Richard, described
by Pepys as "a notable, stout, witty boy,"7 and Margaret;
but his greatest hopes were built on his first-born, whose
bright and practical intellect had already impressed him with
deep respect. To quarrel with this favorite, more than was
needful for his own good, was what he had neither the will
1 Pepys, Nov. 2. 2 Ibid. May 3, 1668. 3 Ibid. April 28, 1662.
4 Ibid. Jan. 25 ; Feb. 1. 6 Ibid. March 16.
6 "Sir William much troubled on receipt of letters last night. Showed me
one of Dr. Owen's to his son, whereby it appears he is much perverted in
his opinions by him ; which I now perceive is the cause that hath put Sir
William so long off the hooks." Pepys, April 28.
¦ Pepys, Feb. 12, 1665; he died in 1673.

32 WILLIAM PENN.
nor the power to do, and after much thought he changed his
method. It had occurred to him that the best way to with
draw a young man from sombre thoughts and inferior com
pany would be to send him to the gay capital of Europe. He
had not yet seen much of the world : — he proposed to him to
set out almost immediately for France. Of course he was de
lighted : what schoolboy does not start with pleasure at the
name of Paris ! Some of his college friends were about to
commence the grand tour, and it was arranged by all parties
that he should join them. They were a gay and graceful set
— some of them of the best blood in England. At Paris they
stayed some time. Penn was presented to Louis Quatorze,
and became a frequent and welcome guest at court.1 There
he made the acquaintance of Robert Spencer, son of the first
Earl of Sunderland and Lady Dorothy Sidney — sister of the
famous Algernon Sidney — and of several other persons of
distinction in the fashionable circles of Paris and Versailles.2
In this brilliant society the young Penn soon forgot the aus
tere gravity of his demeanor ; not many details of his life at
this period are preserved, — but the little that is known is
characteristic. Returning late one night from a party, he
was accosted in the dark street by a man who shouted to him
in an angry tone to draw and defend himself. At the same
moment a sword gleamed past his eyes. The fellow would
not listen to reason. Penn, he said, had treated him with
contempt. He had bowed his head and taken off his hat in
civil salutation : — his courtesy had been slighted, and he
would have satisfaction made to his wounded honor. In vain
the young Englishman protested he had not seen him, — that
he could have no motive for offering such an insult to a
stranger. The more he showed the absurdity of the quarrel,
the more enraged his assailant grew : — he would say no more
— his only answer was a pass with his rapier. The blood of
the youth was stirred ; and whipping his sword from its scab
bard, he stood to the attack. There was but little light ; yet
several persons were attracted by the clash of steel, and a
number of roysterers gathered round to see fair play and
decide upon any points of honor which might be raised. A
few passes proved that Penn was the more expert swordsman ;
1 Gerard Croese, History of Quakers, 41.
2 Letter to Sunderland, July 28, 1683.

WILLIAM PENN. 33
and a dexterous movement left the French gallant unarmed
and at his mercy.1 The company rather expected him to
finish his man, as they said he had a right to do by the
laws of honor ; but he took a different view of the case, and
returned the captured sword with a polite bow to its owner .2
It is petty clear from such an incident that Penn was more of
a cavalier than a quaker at this period of his life.3
The admiral, now a commissioner of the navy with five
hundred a year and a magnificent suite of rooms at the navy-
gardens, was so well pleased with his son's conduct in France,
that he desired him to remain some time in that country
and complete his education : in the meantime he had already
settled it in his own mind that when he had done with books
and travel he should enter the army, and consulted the Duke
of Ormonde and other of his intimate friends as to the need
ful arrangements.4 On learning his father's wishes, Penn
went to Saumur and placed himself under the care of the
learned Moses Amyrault, professor of divinity, and one of the
ablest men in the reformed churches of France. With this
eminent scholar he read the principal fathers ; discussed the
history and philosophic basis of theology ; and applied him
self to a thorough study of the language and literature of the
country. At the conclusion of this course of study he began
to travel, being furnished with letters of introduction to the
best society in France and Italy. He again joined Lord
Robert Spencer, and through his means it is probable that he
was at this time made personally acquainted with Algernon
Sidney, then living in honorable exile rather than compro
mise his potitical faith.5 Certain it is that early in life Penn
became known to this illustrious exile, and strongly attached
to his person and to his political ideas. As the great repub
lican left England in 1659, and did not return until 1677,
when they appear to have been long intimate,6 it is necessary
to infer that they were now introduced. Spencer was Sidney's
nephew; but blood was the only thing they had in common.
Penn accepted his opinions as well as his friendship ; and
1 "No Cross, no Crown," i. 313. 2 Gerard Croese, 41. 3 Besse, i. 2.
4 Ormonde to Sir William Penn, Granville Penn, i. 429.
0 "If I could write and talk like Col. Hutchinson or Sir Gilbert Pickering,
I believe I might be quiet ; contempt might procure me safety ; but I had
rather be a vagabond all my life than buy my being in my own country at so
poor a rate." Hamburg, August 30th, 1660.
a Algernon Sidney to Furly, April 3, 1678.

34 WILLIAM PENN.
retained for him through life a noble and disinterested
affection.1 In the summer of 1664, when he had been about two years
abroad, Penn was suddenly recalled from Italy. England
was again at war with Holland. On the day of Charles
Stuart's restoration, the Dutch revived their old dreams of
naval supremacy, and their aims and pretensions had at
length outwearied the patience of Whitehall. War was de
clared. The Duke of York, then Lord High Admiral of
England, divided the fleet into three squadrons, one of which
he gave to Prince Rupert, a second to Lord Sandwich, and
the third was reserved for himself; but, as he had sense
enough to know, not one of the three commanders had ever
directed a great naval action, nor was qualified by experience
and ability to contend against veterans like De Ruyter and
De Witt.2 Sandwich was a soldier, Rupert a mere freebooter,
and James, though he had distinguished himself under Tu-
renne, was a stranger to the ocean. The occasion could not
be trifled with, and in spite of the jealousy of Sandwich and
the rage of Rupert, the royal brothers consulted the admiral
as to the course to be adopted, — and he recommended them
to employ in their service the old and dauntless captains of
the Commonwealth.3 James had firmness enough to resist
the clamor of the royalists when the advice was made known ;
and many of those who had served under Blake, Lawson, and
Penn, were named to the command of vessels. In the hour
of peril his naval genius made itself felt on every hand, and
the lord admiral looked up to him as to an infallible guide.4
That the full benefit of his skill and courage might be given
to his country, he was named Great Captain Commander, and
ordered to take his station on the duke's flag-ship, so as in
his name to direct all the really important movements of the
fleet.5 While thus employed the admiral thought proper to have
his son at home ; partly to look after the family affairs, and
1 Sidney Papers, ii. 155. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. second part.
2 Penn was but 42, yet the Duke always called him in allusion to his long
services at sea "Old Penn." Pepy's, June 20, 1664.
3 Ibid. Nov. 6, 1665. « Ibid. Oct. 3, 1664.
6 Kempthorne Papers in Egerton MSS. " Sir William Penn do grow every
day more and more regarded by the duke." Pepys, Oct. 3. " To the office,
where strange to see how Sir W. Penn is flocked to by people of all sorts
against his going to sea." This is the testimony of an enemy.

WILLIAM PENN. 35
partly to ensure his personal safety, as the King of France
was believed to be secretly leaning towards an alliance with
Holland. As fast as post-horses could carry him he traversed
northern Italy, Savoy, and France ; and arrived in London
about the middle of August, 1664, being then a little less
than twenty years old. The change in his manners and ap
pearance threw the polite world into a state of wonderment.
Two years before he had gone away a silent, moody boy,
whose whim it was to shun gay society, and to consort with a
set of strange men, whose habits were vulgar and whose
. opinions fanatic. He came back a fine gentleman. Like the
fashionable young men he had travelled with, he wore panta
loons and carried his rapier in the French mode.1 He had
the graceful carriage, the easy and self-possessed manners, of
the best bred men of the world.2 Both the king and his
royal brother noticed him, — and he stepped into his place at
court with ease and dignity. With the ladies he was an es
pecial favorite. He had learned in foreign drawing-rooms to
lisp the language of polished compliment, and to compose the
little chansons d 'amour which courtly beauties loved to listen
to in that age of elegant frivolity.3 In person he had grown
from a slight and unformed youth into a graceful and hand
some man. Tall and well set, his figure promised physical
strength and hardihood of constitution. His face was mild
and almost womanly in its beauty ; his eye soft and full ; his
brow open and ample ; his features well defined and approach
ing to the ideal Greek in contour ; the lines about his mouth
were exquisitely sweet and yet resolute in expression. Like
Milton, he wore his hair long and parted in the centre of the
forehead, from which it fell over his neck and shoulders in
massive natural ringlets. In mien and manners he seemed
formed by nature and stamped by art — a gentleman.4
The admiral, delighted with his own success, took care to
avoid all reference to the painful past.5 To prevent the
1 Gibson to Penn, March 1712. 2 Pepys, August 30.
3 " Comes Mr. Penn to visit me. I perceive something of learning he hath
got ; but a great deal, if not too much, of the vanity of the French garb,
and affected manner of speech and gait." August 30. The reader of the
Diary will remember how far the censor of these vanities was himself above
them. 4 His portrait, painted at 22, is now in possession of the Pennsylvania
Hist. Society.
s Besse, i. 2.

36 WILLIAM PENN.
slightest risk of a return to his old companions and his old
thoughts, he kept him incessantly occupied. He carried him
to the gallery at Whitehall, — presented him to great persons,
— made him pay visits. He entered him as a student at
Lincoln's Inn that he might acquire some knowledge of his
country's laws ; and to allow him no leisure to indulge in idle
fancies, he employed him on the King's business and in his
own private affairs. There seemed little fear that he would
again go wrong: at least so thought his worldly-minded
father.1 The crisis of the Dutch war had now arrived. On the 24th
of March, 1665, the Duke of York, accompanied by his Great
Captain Commander and many other distinguished persons,
went on board the Royal Charles. William Penn was on his
father's staff and saw, the few days he remained at sea, some
smart service between the Dutch and English commanders ;2
but at the end of three weeks he was sent on shore with
despatches for the King. On the 23d of April he landed at
Harwich about one o'clock; but the day being Sunday there
was some difficulty in obtaining horses, and he lost two hours
before he succeeded in procuring them,- when he posted off,
and riding all night arrived at Whitehall before it was yet
day-light. Not finding the King up, he sent in a message by
Lord Arlington that he had brought news from the duke, —
on hearing which Charles leaped out of bed and ran into the
ante-room in his jjight-gown. The courier delivered his let
ters : — " Oh, it's you !" said the King ; " and how is Sir
William?" He read the letters and chatted with the bearer
more than half an hour, when seeing that he was fatigued
with his night's ride he told him to go home and get to bed.3
Penn returned to his legal studies and continued at them
until June, when the decisive battle was fought and won —
the battle which struck down once more the naval pride of
Holland, and won for the admiral the greatest rewards his
sovereign had to bestow, — and the plague broke out in London
and compelled him to change his place of residence.4
The plague undid in a few weeks the work of years. It
1 Granville Penn, ii. 317-8.
2 Truth Rescued, i. 498. Granville Penn, ii. 342
3 William Penn to the Admiral, May 6.
4 Penn to Turner, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 201. Pennsylvania Charter,
preamble.

WILLIAM PENN. 37
was a visitation to make the boldest pause and the least sus
ceptible to religious emotions look the great question in the
face. The living fell down in the streets, stricken dead in a
moment. The darkest gloom reigned every where. Ten
thousand deaths were reported in a single day. The rich fled
away to a distance. The poor shut themselves up in their
houses and hardly ventured forth in search of food. The fear
of death was in all hearts i1 — and the shock revived the old
religious fervor of the young law student, and completely
swept away the courtly refinements in which his father de
lighted to see him excel. When the admiral returned from
sea he was surprised and mortified to find how great a change
an absence of a few weeks had wrought. His son, again
grave and taciturn, had left off French, ceased his attendance
at court, paid few visits. Most of his time was now spent in
his closet with the great masters of controversial theology and
politics, and the limited number of friends in whose society
he seemed to find a pleasure were men of sober character
and devout lives.2 Again the dazzling dreams, which to the
keen eye of the admiral appeared more and more easy to
realize in outward fact, were on the point of being dashed and
broken. From the gratitude of the royal brothers he had
already received ample rewards ; besides his official residence
and the salary of five hundred a year as commissioner to the
navy, he had obtained the command of Kinsale — castle and
fort— worth at least four hundred a year, and a grant of land
of the full annual value of a thousand pounds, over and above
all charges, quit-rents and deductions. Nor did the royal
bounty end with gifts of lands and offices. The services were
too great to pass without still higher honors :3 — and he was
given to understand that he would be raised to the peerage
in due time with the title of Lord Weymouth, the borough
which he then represented in parliament.4 But what was he
1 Defoe, ix. 1-204. 2 Travels, i. 92.
3 All classes looked up to him in the hour of danger. Pepys' meanness
is amusing : — ' ' Comes Sir W. Penn to town, which I little expected, having
invited my lady and h^r daughter Pegg to dine with me to-day, which at
noon they did, and Sir W. Penn with them; and pretty merry we were.
And though I do not love him, yet I find it necessary to keep in with him.
His good service at Sheerness in getting out the fleet being much taken
notice of, and reported to the king and duke, even from the prince [Rupert]
and the Duke of Albemarle themselves. Therefore I think it discretion,
great and necessary discretion, to keep in with him." July 1, 1660.
4 Granville Penn, ii. 317-18. Besse, i. 2.
4

38 WILLIAM PENN.
to do with a shy and moody youth in that splendid and dissi
pated court ? He could think only of one scheme,— and that
was to send him away until the mood had again passed off:
absence from England had formerly cured him of such follies
— it was easy to try the experiment again. So reasoned the
worldly-minded father with himself; and the idea once in his
mind, he lost no time in carrying it into effect.
At this period of our history the Duke of Ormonde, with
whose family the admiral lived on terms of intimate friend
ship, was vice-king in Ireland ; and his court in Dublin was
renowned as one of the most refined and cultivated in Europe.
The grey-headed old nobleman was himself possessed of an
upright mind, a cheerful temper and polished manners: he
knew the value of wit and ease ; but he never sacrificed to
them the more solid qualities of intellect and virtue. About
his own person he had gathered all the worth and beauty of
the country over which he ruled ; and his court was remark
able for its gaiety and correctness — the purity of its morals
and the brilliancy of its fashion.1 In such a circle Admiral
Penn had good reason to believe his son would soon forget
that hateful gloom. Sensible that while his mind was still
fresh and his worldly passions dormant, the society of those
profligate idlers and bravoes who swarmed about Whitehall
could only lead to a deeper and more radical repugnance to
a courtier's life, he took his measures not unwisely : only he
had overlooked one important fact — the Quakers were already
numerous in Ireland.2
Provided with letters of introduction to the Viceroy and to
other chief officers of the government, Penn set out for Dublin,
where he arrived in the autumn of 1665, and was warmly
received by his father's friends. The Duke made him known
to his second son, the young Lord Arran, (Ossory being at
that time absent in his sovereign's service,) to Lord Dunagle,
Secretary Sir George Lane, and the other distinguished
persons of his court.3 He was charmed with the spirit, the
intelligence, the high breeding of his young courtier ; and in
a very short time the accounts sent to the admiral assured
him that in separating his son from his London associates he
had effectually changed the current of his thoughts. The

1 Carte's Life of Ormonde, and the Ormonde Correspondence.
2Thurloe, iv. 757. ' 3 Letters in Granville Penn, ii. 429 et seq.

WILLIAM PENN. 39
Ormondes were a family of soldiers .-—the pomp and circum
stance of war occupied nearly every thought of young Arran
and his companions. Penn was still considered a little too
grave for one-and-twenty ; but he affected no moroseness,—
gave up his time and talents to the occupation of the hour, —
and one unexpected event gave to his tastes and wishes a
powerful impulse towards a military career. This was an in
surrection of the soldiers stationed at Carrickfergus. The
mutineers seized the castle and spread alarm through the
whole country. To the Lord Arran was assigned the arduous
task of reducing them to obedience; and impelled by the
ardor of youth, Penn offered to serve as a volunteer under his
friend. _ His offer was accepted, and in the subsequent actions
of the siege he so distinguished himself by courage and cool
ness as to extort general applause from his superior officers.
Arran was in ecstacies. The Viceroy himself wrote to the
admiral to express his great satisfaction with his son's con
duct; and at the same time proposed that he should now join
the army and have a company of foot as had been agreed
between them before his return from France.1
This taste of military glory made the volunteer anxious to
adopt the sword as a profession. The desire did not lie deep
in his mind perhaps ; but so long as the career of arms seemed
open to him he strongly urged his father to comply with the
Duke's proposal, and in more than one letter expressed his
chagrin at being kept so long in a state of uncertainty.2 His
impatience amused and gratified the family, then residing at
Walthamstow ;3 but the admiral had now changed his views,
so that while he freely confessed that he felt proud of his con
duct at the attack on Carrickfergus, he refused to allow him
to join the regular army. Penn parted from his momentary
dream with much regret, — and, that some remembrance of it
might be preserved in the family, he had himself painted —
the only time in his life — in his military costume. It is a
curious fact that the only genuine portrait of the great apostle
of peace existing, represents him armed and accoutred as a
soldier !4
1 Ormonde to Sir William, May, 29, 1666.
2 Granville Penn, ii. 431-2. 3 Pepys, August 30.
4 Granville Penn, ii. 431. The original portraits (there were two copies),
are — one of them in possession of his descendant, Granville Penn, Esq. The
other in the hall of the Pennsylvania Historical Society.

40 WILLIAM PENN.
From this time the family affairs in Ireland occupied the
whole of Penn's attention for several months. The lands
granted by Cromwell to the admiral for his good and faithful
service to the Commonwealth included the town, castle and
manor of Macroom — then called Macromp — an estate in ex
cellent condition, with gardens and nurseries in perfect culture,
— several woods of great value, — markets of grain and fruit,
— and various other manorial rights and dignities attached.
But with the Restoration came in a claimant with an indispu
table title, and Macroom went back to the Earls of Clancarty.
The admiral, however, had taken too much care of his fortunes
to suffer by any new changes. The king himself wrote to the
Duke of Ormonde commanding him to see that his faithful
servant received no injury in his estate j1 — so that in the end
he got in exchange for Macroom a still nobler property in the
barony of Imokelly, county of Cork, — including Shangarry
Castle and all the lands lying in its immediate neighborhood.
The new grant was of course not free from other claims ;
and vexatious suits were maintained against the new proprie
tor for several years. On of the principal persons who disputed
the right of the crown to give away the Shangarry estates
was Colonel Wallis ; and Penn was ordered to put himself
into communication with this gentleman. He displayed in the
management of the business an address and prudence which
astonished the admiral, who thereupon gave up the entire
charge of the suit into his hands. This Irish property was
the chief dependence of the family, and they always enter
tained the idea of settling on it as a permanent residence :—
a circumstance which makes the confidence of the admiral and
the merits of the young manager appear the more conspi
cuous.2 Nor did his ducal friend overlook his marvellous
aptitude for affairs : he thought of some public employment —
now that the intention of making him a soldier was abandoned
— in which his services might be made available — and in a
short time appointed him to be what we should now call the
chief commissariat officer to the fleet stationed at Kinsale,
which responsible post he filled to the entire satisfaction of
his employer.3
But it was in London, not at Kinsale or Shangarry, that
the great question of the Irish estates was to be settled. The

1 Granville Penn, ii. 617. 2 Ibid. ii. 374. s n,id. ••. 433,

WILLIAM PENN. 41
Land Commissioners appointed by the crown to hear and
adjust the multitude of intricate cases which had arisen during
twenty years of grants, confiscations, forfeitures and restora
tions, were then sitting ; but the admiral had begun to feel a
greater degree of confidence in his son's tact and judgment
than his own, and he wrote to desire he would get the family
affairs into an orderly state and then come over and see the
Commissioners, — at the same time giving him some shrewd
worldly hints as to the conduct of the victualling department
of Kinsale Castle, and begging him to make the passage in
calm% weather, so_ as not to run any risk.1 Penn joyfully
obeyed his father's summons, as he had not seen his mother
and isister for more than a year, and arrived in London in the
month of November.2 The business was soon arranged. After
hearing evidence on both sides the land commissioners con
firmed the grant of Shangarry; and assured of this large
addition to his fixed income the admiral began to live in a
style of yet greater magnificence ; he kept several coaches, and
in face of his expected peerage proposed to buy Wanstead
House, one of the largest mansions in Essex.3
Penn did not remain long in London. His father, anxious
to keep him apart from his old Puritan friends — and to sustain
the habit of devotion to his temporal interests into which he
seemed gradually falling, sent him again into Ireland. He
had no suspicion that the enemy of his peace lay in ambush
at the very gates of his stronghold. But the youth had not
resided more than a few months at Shangarry Castle before
one of those incidents occurred which destroy in a day the
most elaborate attempts to stifle the instincts of nature. When
the admiral in England was pluming himself on the triumphs
of his worldly prudence, his son, on occasion of one of his
frequent visits to Cork, heard by accident that Thomas Loe,
his old Oxford acquaintance, was in the city and intended to
preach that night. He thought of his boyish enthusiasm at
college, and wondered how the preacher's eloquence would
stand the censures of his riper judgment. Curiosity prompted
him to stay and listen.4 The fervid orator took for his text
the passage — " There is a faith that overcomes the world, and
there is a faith that is overcome by the world." The topic
1 Granville Penn, ii. 434. 2 Penn Gaskell MSS.
3 Pepys, April 19.— June 25.— Granville Penn, ii. 433. 4 Besse, i. 2,
4*

42 WILLIAM PENN.
was peculiarly adapted to his own situation. Possessed by
strong religious instincts, but at the same time docile and affec
tionate, — he had hitherto oscillated between two duties — duty
to God and duty to his father. The case was one in which
the strongest minds might waver for a time. On the one side
— his filial affection, the example of his brilliant friends, the
worldly ambition never quite a stranger to the soul of man,
— all pleaded powerfully in favor of his father's views. On
the other, there was only the low whisperings of his own heart.
But the still voice would not be silenced. Often as he had
escaped from thought into business, gay society or the smaller
vanities ofthe parade and mess-room, — the moment of repose
again brought back the old emotions. The crisis had come
at last. Under Thamas Loe's influence they were restored to
a permanent sway. From that night he was a Quaker in his
heart.1 He now began to attend the meetings of this despised and
persecuted sect, and soon learned to feel the bitter martyr
dom to which he had given up all his future hopes. In no
part of these islands were the Quakers of that time treated
as men and as brethren, — and least of anywhere in Ireland.
Confounded by ignorant and zealous magistrates with those
sterner Puritans who had lately ruled the land with a rod of
iron, and had now fallen into the position of a vanquished
and prostrate party — they were held up to ridicule in polite
society, and pilloried by the vulgar in the market-place. On
the 3d of September (1667) a meeting of these harmless
people was being held in Cork, when a company of soldiers
broke in upon them, made the whole congregation prisoners,
and carried them before the mayor on a charge of riot and
tumultuous assembling. Seeing William Penn, the lord of
Shangarry Castle, and an intimate friend of the Viceroy,
among the prisoners, the worthy magistrate wished to set him
at liberty on simply giving his word to keep the peace, but
not knowing that he had violated any law he refused to enter
into terms and was sent to gaol with the rest. From the
prison he wrote to his friend the Earl of Ossory — Lord Pre
sident of Munster — giving an account of his arrest and de
tention. An order was of course sent to the mayor for his
immediate discharge ; but the incident had made known to

1 Travels, i.- 92

WILLIAM PENN. 43
all the gossips of Dublin the fact that the young courtier and
soldier had turned Quaker I1
His friends at the vice-regal court were greatly distressed
at this untoward event. The earl wrote off to the admiral
to inform him of his son's danger, stating the bare facts just
as they had come to his knowledge. The family were thun
derstruck. The father especially was seriously annoyed ; he
thought the boy's conduct not only mad, but what was far
worse in that libertine age — ridiculous. The world was be
ginning to laugh at him and his family : — he could bear it no
longer.2 He wrote in peremptory terms, calling him to Lon
don. William obeyed without a word of expostulation. At
the first interview between father and son nothing was said
on the subject which both had so much at heart. The admiral
scrutinised the youth with searching eyes, — and as he observed
no change in his costume, nor in his manner any of that
formal stiffness which he thought the only distinction of the
abhorred sect, he felt re-assured. His son was still dressed
like a gentleman; he wore lace and ruffles, plume and rapier;
the graceful curls of the cavalier still fell in natural clusters
about his neck and shoulder : — he began to hope that his
noble correspondent had erred in his friendly haste. But a
few days served to dissipate this illusion. He was first struck
with the circumstance that his son omitted to uncover in the
presence of his elders and superiors ; and with somewhat of
indignation and impatience in his tone, demanded an interview
and an explanation.3
William frankly owned that he was now a Quaker. The
admiral laughed at the idea, and treating it as a passing
fancy, tried to reason him out of it. But he mistook his
strength. The boy was the better theologian and the more
thorough master of all the weapons of controversy. He then
fell back on his own leading motives. A Quaker ! Why the
Quakers abjured worldly titles : — and he expected to be made
a peer ! Had the boy turned Independent, Anabaptist, —
any thing but Quaker, he might have reconciled it to his con
science. But he had made himself one of a sect remarkable
only for absurdities which would close on him every door in
courtly circles. Then there was that question of the hat.
Was he to believe that his own son would refuse to uncover
1 Besse, i. 3. 2 Pepys, Dec. 29, 1667. 3 Besse, i. 2

44 WILLIAM PENN.
in his presence ? The thing was quite rebellious and unnatu
ral. And to crown all,— how would he behave himself at
court ? Would he wear his hat in the royal presence ? Wil
liam paused. He- asked an hour to consider his answer,—
and withdrew to his own chamber.1
This enraged the admiral more than ever. What ! a son
of his could hesitate at such a question ! Why, this was a
question of breeding — not of conscience. Every child un
covered to his father — every subject to his sovereign. Could
any man with the feelings and the education of a gentleman
doubt ? And this boy — for whom he had worked so hard —
had won such interest — had opened such a brilliant prospect
— that he, with his practical and cultivated mind, should'
throw away his golden opportunities for a mere whimsy ! He
felt that his patience was sorely tried.2
After a time spent in solitude ,and prayer, the young man
returned to his father with the result of his meditation — a
refusal. The indignant admiral turned him out of doors.3
1 Besse, i. 4. 2 Ibid.
3 Travels, i. 92. The admiral's temper was hasty and choleric. " Home
wards again, and on our way met two country fellows upon one horse, which
I did, without much ado, give the way to, but Sir William would not ; but
struck them, and they him, and so passed away ; but they giving some high
words, he went back again and struck them off their horse in a simple fury."
Pepys, April 18, 1661.

WILLIAM PENN. 45

CHAPTER II.
1667-1670.
IN THE WORLD.

It now becomes necessary to inquire into the origin of these
facts ; to see whether it were a reasonable conviction or a
mere madness which induced William Penn, not only to aban
don forever the hope of attaining to the brilliant position
marked out for him by the admiral, but to bear exclusion from
the home in which he had been reared, — to brave the anger
of a father whom he loved, — and to forfeit in a great mea
sure the society of a mother and sister to whom he was ten
derly attached.
The chief part of this explanation is to be found in the
history of the time. When the civil troubles commenced in
England, the entire intellectual and moral texture of society
was ravelled. In looking back to that period, it is too much
the habit to confine attention to the extraordinary variety of
opinions which prevailed in politics :— the social state was
even more anarchial. Between_'Hampden and Falkland the
space was narrower than between Laud and Fox. If in poli
tical ideas, from the school of divine right, through the edu
cated democracy of Milton, down to the wild republicanism
of the Fifth-Monarchy Men, all was confusion, — the religion
of the numberless sectaries will still less reducible to order.
The mere names of the leading sects into which the Church
had dissolved itself in a few years are suggestive. Only to
name a few of them, there were, — Anabaptists, Antinomians,
Antiscripturists, Antitrinitarians, Arians, Arminians, Bap
tists, Brownists, Calvinists, Enthusiasts, Familists, Fifth-
Monarchy Men, Independents, Libertines, Muggletonians,
Perfectists, Presbyterians, Puritans, Ranters, Sceptics, Seek
ers, and Socinians. Feakes and Powell, worthies of the Ana
baptist faith, openly preached at Blackfriars a war of con
quest and extermination against the continent of Europe.
Their eyes lay more especially on the inheritance of the
Dutchman : — God, they proclaimed, had given up Holland as

46 WILLIAM PENN.
a dwelling-place for his saints, and a stronghold from which
they might wage war against the great harlot. The Fifth-
Monarchy men protested against every kind of law and gov
ernment: Christ alone, in their opinion, ought to reign on
earth, and in his behalf they were anxious to put down all
lawgivers and magistrates. The Levellers were at least as
mad as any sect of Communists or Red Republicans of mo
dern date. The national mind was in a paroxysm of morbid
activity ; and the bolder sort of spirits had cast away every
restraint which creeds and councils, laws and experience,
impose on men in ordinary times. Institutions which are
commonly treated with a grave respect, even by the unbe
lieving, were made the subject of coarse jokes and indecent
mummeries. In the cant of the time a church was a taber
nacle of the devil, — the Lord's Supper a twopenny ordinary.1
St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey were both used
as stables for horses and as shambles for butchers.2 Hogs
and horses were taken to fonts filled with foul water, and
baptized according to the established ritual, for the amuse
ment of common soldiers and the painted women who attended
the camp as their paramours.3 Mares were allowed to foal
in cathedrals, and the lowest troopers to convert the most
sacred edifices into beer-shops.4 Even our venerable abbey,
the resting-place of kings and heroes, was for a time used as
a common^brothel.5 The sarcasm of the soldiers .was — that
as the horses had now begun to attend church, the reforma
tion was at length complete.6 Sober and religious men were
equally insane. A sect arose which professed to believe that
a woman has no soul, no more than a goose.7 Another body
of grave men believed there is no difference between good
and evil. Atheists became numerous ; and, as usual, atheism
was attended with the lowest and most debasing superstitions.
In more than one part of the country prostitution was prac
tised as a religious ordinance.8 One fellow was found with
no less than seven wives, — another had married his father's
' Howell's Letters, 644.
2 Foulis' Hist, of Plots and Conspiracies, 136, Oxford, 1674.— Character
of England, 11 et seq.
3 Edward's Qangrsena, Part iii. 17.
4 Newes from Powles, (St. Paul's) 1649.
6 Mercurius Rusticus, 237. « Character of England, 13.
7 Fox's Journal, 6. 8 Mercurius (section Democraticus) Nos. 1-30.

WILLIAM PENN. 47
wife, — a third having seduced a wretched woman, gave out
that she was about to be delivered of the Messiah. Hundreds
of persons set up as prophets ; and several men, a little madder
than the rest, were sent to Coventry gaol for declaring them
selves to be God Almighty come down from heaven ; but once
locked up, their godships did not enable them to open the pri
son-gates.1 From Newgate downwards, the prisons were full of
these fanatics : fools or knaves, whom nevertheless thousands
of their countrymen regarded as holy martyrs, suffering from
the children of this world the injustice which has ever been
the portion of prophets and apostles. A fact that is particu
larly curious is, that the fanaticism usually commenced in the
higher classes : — among magistrates, colonels in the army,
ministers of the gospel, and gentlemen of estate. It was
only by degrees that the madness descended to the lower
orders of society.2 A person of wealth and standing in
Warwickshire, shut himself and his family up in his house to
starve from a fanciful sense of religious duty ; and when the
neighbors broke into the house, they found one of the child
ren already dead.3 One Sunday a respectable tailor, named
Evan Price, got up in one of the city churches in the middle
of the sermon, and declared himself to be Jesus Christ in
person. The incident of course made some stir, and the
tailor was taken before the lord mayor — a judge it is to be
supposed in such matters — where he maintained the correct
ness of his assertion, and offered to prove it by showing the
marks of the nails in his hands by which he had been fast-
tened to the cross sixteen hundred years before !4 When
acting under any strong excitement, the folly of mankind is
illimitable. To verify the text — " Man shall not live by bread
alone," one of the prophets tried to do without eating. The
text proved to him a dead letter : for he expired just as he
was on the point of establishing the prediction.5 Yet these
were not the most revolting incidents of the revolutionary
period. A fiend in the guise of woman offered up her child
as a sacrifice in imitation of the Hebrew rites, — another cru
cified her mother. Yet with all this folly, blasphemy and
madness, a deeply religious spirit possessed the nation ; and
a general toleration for the sects which grew up under the
1 Fox's Journal. 2 Lady Springett MS.
3 Torshall's Hypocrite Discovered, 1644.
• News Tract, January 10, 1646. 5 Whitelocke, 624.

48 WILLIAM PENN.
excitement was one of the happiest issues of the Common
wealth.1 It was into a world thus racked and torn, politically, intel
lectually and morally, that William Penn was born. The
very year in which his father had so fondly welcomed his
birth, a rude, gaunt, illiterate lad of nineteen, a shoemaker
by trade, and affected with the religious fervor of the age,
being at a country fair in his native Leicestershire, met with
his cousin and another friend there, — and t.he three youths
agreed to have a stoup of ale together. They accordingly
adjourned to a tavern in the neighborhood, and called for
drink. When this first supply was exhausted, the cousin and
his friend called for more, — began to drink healths, and said
that he who would not drink should pay the entire ale score.
The young shoemaker was alarmed at this proposal — for he
was low in purse, and honest in his dealings ; whereupon, as
he explained the circumstance afterward, he put his hand into
his pocket, took out a groat, laid it down on the table, and
said — "If it be so, I will leave you." And so he went
home. This simple village alehouse incident was one of the most
important events which had yet happened in the history of
the Anglo-Saxon race ; for out of it was to come Quakerism,
the writings and teachings of Penn and Barclay, the colony
and constitution of Pennsylvania, the republics of the west,
and in no very remote degree the vast movement of liberal
ideas in Great Britain and America in more modern times.
The illiterate and upright shoemaker, who would drink no
more ale than he could pay for, was George Fox.2 " I went
away," he afterwards wrote in his journal, " and when I had
done my business, returned home. But I did not go to bed
that night ; nor did I sleep : but sometimes walked up and
down, and sometimes prayed, and called to the Lord."
1 "One day, I, by accident, going through y« city from a country house,
could not pass through ye crowd (it being a day wherein ye Lord Mayor was
sworn), but was forced to go into a house till it was over. I, being bur-
thened with the vanity of this show, said to a professor that stood by me—
' What benefit have we by all this bloodshed, and Charles being kept out of
ye nation, seeing all these follies are again allowed?' He answered, 'None,
that he knew of, except ye enjoyment of their religion.' To which I replied,
'That is a benefit to you that have a religion, to be protected in the exercise
of it, but it is none to me.' "—MS. Autobiography of Lady Springett.

WILLIAM PENN. 49
During this long night of watching and prayer, the boy
thought he heard a voice from heaven, which said to him —
" Thou seest how young people go together into vanity, and
old people into the earth : thou must forsake all, young and
old, keep out of all, and be a stranger unto all."1 Now, as
George had not yet taken a fancy to the profane arts of
reading and writing, he was not aware that other men have
a way of explaining such messages in a metaphorical sense ;
he stood indeed quite outside the pale of all such verbal sub
tleties, and accepted the intimation in the form in which it
made itself known to his understanding. He got out, and,
without purse or scrip, began to wander about the country,
inclining his course towards London. On the way he was
troubled with many doubts as to whether he had done right
in leaving his father and mother ; but the Spirit urged him
on, and he entered the great city.2 To him it was a place of
worse than heathen darkness. He went to the churches and
to the learned and titled doctors ; but he found no peace in
the gospel which they taught. The strife in his own spirit
increased in violence and bitterness. His soul was out far
away on a dark and tempestuous sea ; he struggled manfully
to get at some gleam of light — at some assurance of safety ;
but his efforts were for a long time in vain. When he talked
to the educated priests, he found them as ignorant as himself,
— and he went away from them disgusted and despairing.
Quitting London, he returned to his home at Drayton out of
tender regard for his parents, who had become very anxious
on his account. His mother took a woman's view of his case
and advised him to marry. His male companions thought he
had better join the auxiliary band and drum his melancholy
away. He only marvelled at their ignorance. Again he was
unable to resist the urgings of the spirit ; again he begun to
wander about, often without food, seldom resting in a bed at
1 Visions and strange voices were not confined to the vulgar in those days
of pious exaltation. Education and gentle blood had no power to scare them
away. Lady Springett, in her ecstatic dreams, twice saw and spoke with
the Son of God. The first time she saw him, he was a beautiful youth,
dressed in grey cloth : — this was before she had ever heard of a Quaker.
The second vision was more impressive; "The man with greater majesty
and sweetness than ever I saw any — brown hair — black, quick and shining
eyes — fresh and ruddy complexion — affable — dominion in his countenance,
and great gentleness and kindness." MS. Autobiography.
2 Fox's Journal, 3. 5

50 WILLIAM PENN.
night, but always with the Bible in his hand, and its myste
rious words racking in his brain. " I fasted much," he writes
in his journal, " walked abroad in solitary places many days,
and often took my Bible and sat in hollow trees and lonesome
places until night came on ; and frequently in the night
walked mournfully about by myself. For I was a man of
sorrows in the first working of the Lord in me."1
These workings of the Spirit continued for several years.
While the dark dream lay on him he never ceased his wander
ings — he never ceased to interrogate gentle and simple, learned
and unlearned, as to the grounds on which they rested their
hopes of salvation. At that time such a course of life excited
no surprise. Fox only appeared to be a little more mad than
hundreds of others ; while he evidently had somewhat more
of method in his madness. Hearing of a learned doctor,
named Cradock, who lived at Coventry, Fox girded up his
loins and went to talk with him about temptation and despair,
and how the thought of sin came to trouble the soul of man.
They were walking in the doctor's garden, and one of the
alleys being narrow, the truth-seeker, in turning round hap
pened to touch the side of a flower-bed with his foot, at which
the parson " raged as if his house had been set on fire."
Poor George went away more melancholy than 'he had come.
As Penn afterwards said, he felt how irreligious were all the
religions of this world and the professors thereof !a
He went to another Priest at Mansetter, in Warwickshire, an
old man, and reasoned with him about despair and temptation
and the soul's inward struggles. The parson listened to the
story of his visitor, and advised him to sing psalms and smoke
tobacco. Luther had told a young student of theology who
came to him with his troubles about fate, free-will, and^pre-
ordination, to get well drunk and his difficulties would speedily
disappear. But Fox detested tobacco, and he was too sad to
sing. His mischievous adviser told the milkmaids of his
errand, and they laughed at him, which he did not like. So
once more he went away empty. The doctor, he thought,
did not understand the disease of which he suffered. There
are some who will think otherwise.3
At length comfort came to him from within. The truths
which he had vainly sought, at the hands of those reared in a
1 Fox's Journal, 7. 2 Ibid. 4. 3 ibid. 4.

WILLIAM PENN. 51
knowledge of the law, began to acquire a certain clearness
and cohesion in his own mind.1 Much reading of the Book
of books, — deep mental anguish,— and bodily sufferings such
as few men have ever endured, each contributed its lesson.
The school of pain is hard but productive ; — and out of it
George Fox emerged a new man. And not only a new, but
to some extent a gifted man. His own earnest nature sup
plied the native springs of eloquence ; familiarity with the
pure and nervous diction of the English Bible supplied him
with a vehicle ; and when the unlettered shoemaker began to
preach the comfort which he had found for his own troubled
soul, he astonished even his most sober hearers with the force
and dignity of his language.2 Fox himself regarded his flu
ency as a miracle ; and from that time forth he never doubted
that he had received an appointment from God to deliver a
new Gospel to mankind. From that day he waged war
against all creeds and councils, prophets and pretenders, lords,
magistrates and private individuals, who refused to accept
him as their teacher, — and was ready to inflict or to suffer
any amount of pain and privation for opinion's sake. To
understand the perils of such a position, one must remember
that every third man in England was possessed by just such
"a spirit as his own ; a spirit too fervent and exalted to take
heed of mere physical torture. Toleration was then only the
dream of a few students : — the soldiers of the cross took no
quarter and they gave none.3
George Fox went into churches and disturbed the service.
In the midst of a sermon he Would stand up aad cry to the
minister — " This is not true gospel, come down, thou deceiver."
Brought before the magistrate, he refused to take off his hat —
pleading a direct command from God not to uncover his head
or to make obeisance to an equal, — and defended his conduct
in the church with a rudeness and vehemence that to men of
education and refinement savored of insanity. The disturber
was beaten and stoned by the rabble, pilloried aftd imprisoned
again and again by the magistrates.4 But indignity and
1 Ibid. 6 et seq.
2 Men of learning and moderation, like Penn and Barclay, were equally
impressed by his manner with the vulgar. Penn calls him " an angel and
special messenger of God." It must be said, however, that the expression
occurs in a letter to the angel's wife. Penn to Margaret Fox, January 8,
1678, MS. 3 Fox's Journal, 17.
4 Journal, 169, and in a hundred other places.

52 WILLIAM PENN.
punishment produced no change in his conduct. More of his
time was spent in gaol than out of it ; — yet he had no fear of
gaols. He entered them without a murmur ; he refused to
leave them except with honor. King Charles once offered
him a pardon : he would not take it, because a pardon implied
a confession of guilt.1 If the prison-gates were thrown open
to him unconditionally he would walk out — not else. It was
a part of his public' mission to show that the persecuting
spirit may be wearied out by a man who is steadfast in suf
fering : — and he achieved it.2 - His constancy, his contempt of
pain, gained for him the sympathy of multitudes who might
never have been reached by his doctrines. Here as every
where in the history of opinion, persecution became the chief
arm by which his influence was propagated.. Whoever is right,
said Penn afterwards, the persecutor must be wrong.3 Hun
dreds of the restless and discontented in every county of
England embraced his tenets; Foxite or Quaker meeting
houses sprang into existence ; and when out of gaol the founder
of the new sect was fully occupied in visiting these communi
ties or in carrying the war still further into the enemy's camp.
The whole earth was his quarry, and he worked it with all
his might.4
Fox had got an idea in his mind : — and ideas rule the
world. It was not his own in the first instance ; nor did he
ever perceive its true relation to other systems of thought and
religious creeds. It was the ancient mystic idea, — adopted
by Origen, and faintly to be traced in the speculations of the
Neo-Platonists, — that there lies concealed in the mind of
every man a certain portion of Divine light — a real spark of
the infallible Godhead. In this mysterious light the Mystics
had found the highest guide of human conduct, and Fox had
somewhere caught at the doctrine. It suited his restless
and imperious instincts : — it made of man a god. When he
began to preach the doctrine, he took its boldest forms. The
inner light, he said, was above any outward teaching. Law,
history, experience, revelation itself was liable to error ; the
Divine light was alone infallible. Of the diagnosis of his
case, he had but a confused and imperfect notion; whether
1 Fox's Journal, 405. 2 Penn to Fox, July 5, 1674, MS.
3 So early as 1655, the Quakers had increased so far as to attract the
serious attention of foreign statesmen. Bordeaux to Cardinal Mazarin, Feb.
4» 1(i&5. 4 Lady Springett's MS.

WILLIAM PENN. 53
this inner light was the thing some men call conscience —
others reason, was a question he never troubled himself to
answer ; for he had a huge distrust of human learning and
human inventions, but none of the promptings of his own
spirit.1 What he calls "Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, and the
seven arts," he regarded as little better than devilry and pagan
ism. The knowledge of many tongues, he said, began with re
bellion against God ; at the beginning therefore languages were
accursed, and so they continued: it was the woman and the
beast which had power over tongues.2 God, he contended,
stood in no need of human learning ; to which South replied
very finely — If God does not stand in need of human learning
still less does He stand in need of human ignorance. But
Fox went on his way rejoicing. The inner light was enough
for him and for all men. Even the Scriptures were to some
extent superfluous; and he ventured to reject them when they
could not be made to harmonize with the light within.3 Never
was there a greater innovator than this George Fox. Philo
sophies, religions, arts, legislations, were as nothing in his
system. Every man was complete in himself; he stood in
need of no alien help; the light was free of all control —
above all authority external to itself. Each human being, man
or woman, was supreme.
Here was an intellectual basis for democracy ! In an age
of anarchy, when men were running to and fro in search of a
revelation, a doctrine like this naturally attracted to itself
many of the more restless and dissatisfied spirits ; and as
each of these added to its dogmas his own peculiar vagaries
and oddities, the followers of George Fox, or the Children of
Light, as they called themselves, were for several years only
known to the general religious world by the extravagance
of their behavior: — an extravagance which in many cases
amounted to a real insanity. Entering and disturbing
churches and dissenting congregations in the manner of their
Master, was the most innocent mode of displaying their new
born zeal. This they considered a sacred duty : and they
performed it not only in England, where their tenets were
understood, but in foreign towns and cities very much at
1 Fox, 18, and on almost any page. 2 Ibid. 280.
3 Fox, 22. He says the Scriptures are to be judged by the Light — without
which they are useless. 5*

54 WILLIAM PENN.
their personal peril.1 Divers persons among them were
moved of the spirit to do things— some fantastical, some in
decent, some monstrous. One woman went into the house of
Parliament with a trenchard on her head, to denounce the
Lord Protector, and before the face of his government, dashed
the trenchard into pieces, saying aloud—" Thus shall he be
broken in pieces." One Sarah Goldsmith went about the
city in a coat of sackcloth, her hair disheveled, and her head
covered with dust to testify, as she said, against pride.
James Naylor gave himself out as the Messiah ;2 and a woman
named Dorcas Ebery made oath before the judges that she
had been dead two days and was raised again to life by this
impostor.3 Gilbert Latye, a man of property and education,
going with Lord Oberry into the queen's private chapel, was
moved to stand up on one of the side altars and inveigh
against Popery to the astonished worshippers.4 One Solo
mon Eccles went through the streets, naked above the waist,
with a chafing dish of coals and burning brimstone on his
head, — in which state he entered a Popish chapel and de
nounced the Lord's vengeance against idolators. William
Sympson, says Fox, who never did these things himself, was
moved to go at several times for three years, naked and bare
footed, in markets, courts, towns and cities — to priests and
great men's houses, as a sign that they should be stript naked
even as he was stript naked. There seemed to be a general
emulation as to who should outstrip the rest, — and many
persons went about the streets of London in all the nudity of
nature.5 Most of the zealots however kept to the decencies
of a sackcloth dress ; and with their faces besmeared with
grease and dirt they would parade about the parks and public
places, calling to the people as they passed that in like man
ner would all their religions be besmeared. One fellow, who
seemed to have had more of purpose in his madness than the
others, went to Westminster with a drawn sword in his hand,
and as the representatives came down to the House he thrust
1 Thurloe, iii. 422.— vii. 287. Harl. Misc. vi. 435.
2 Burton's Diary, i. 20 et seq. Parliament occupied eleven days in the in
vestigation of this case. The wretched man was condemned to be pilloried,
branded on the forehead, whipped in public, to have his tongue bored through
with a red hot iron, and to be imprisoned in a solitary dungeon and fed with
bread and water. Thurloe, v. 708. The House was as mad as the poor fanatic
himself. 3 Harl. Misc. 434. 4 Life of Latye, by himself, p. 54. 5 Fox, 572.

WILLIAM PENN. 55
at and wounded several before he could be arrested. On
being asked by the Speaker why he had done this, he replied
that he had been inspired by the Holy Ghost to kill every
man who sat in Parliament.1 No wonder that the prisons
were crowded with Quakers, as they were with enthusiasts
and innovators of every other kind !2
As it has now been seen, the grotesque follies to which
some of the Children of Light gave themselves up in the
delirium of their first call, were shared by the rest of the reli
gious world : what was grand and genuine in their enthusiasm
belonged to themselves. They succeeded, in spite of small
vagaries, because they were in earnest. At a time when all
ideas were unfixed, — when historical faith was discarded as a
fiction, — when every ancient system of policy and philosophy,
morals and religion, had lost its sanction, — and the world
seemed drifting down the great gulf-stream of time, rudder
less and anchorless, a prey to storm and wave, the wear of
motion and the wrack of the elements, — these men began to
preach a new, a positive and a simple doctrine. The thought
they aimed to express was grand, — and it was complete.
They believed it would be able to kindle a new life in the
dying body of society, — to revivify and enlarge the sphere of
all known truths, — and to develope germs out of which a
fresh civilization might arise. These enthusiasts" not only
preached the doctrines of social and political equality ; they
aimed at the establishment of an universal religion.3 Fox
himself appealed to the highest and to the lowest. He wrote
to admonish Innocent XL and tried to convert the Lord
Protector Cromwell. He preached to milkmaids and dis
cussed points of theology with ploughmen. He invoked in
thousands of the yeomanry of England a fervor of spirit
almost equal to that which possessed himself.4 He exhorted
the ambassadors of the great powers, then assembled at
Nimmeguen, to treat of peace, — and warned the citizens of
Oldenburgh that the fire which had recently desolated their
1 Whitelocke, Jan. 3, 1654. 2 Thurloe, iii. 188, &c.
3 Fox contended for the rights of servants before the magistrates. Journal,
17. His antipathy to the regular clergy arose in a great measure out of his
belief that in all ages they have been leagued with governments to oppress
the people. Ibid. 252.
4 Lady Springett's MS. Speaking of these inspired ploughmen, the fair
autobiographer says — " Their solid and weighty carriage struck a dread over
me." This was in her days of scoffing.

56 WILLIAM PENN.
city was a judgment from heaven against them on account of
their iniquities.1 In the excess of their zeal, delicate women
went into the camps of Cromwell, mixed with the rough
soldiers, and tried to win them over to the doctrines of peace
and goodwill to man.2 Innocent girls and unworldly men
went forth in conscious and fearless innocence to bear the
seeds of truth to every corner of the earth. Hester Biddle
forced her way into the presence of the grand monarch at
Versailles, and commanded him in the name of God to sheathe
his destroying sword.3 Others made their way to Jerusalem
and to New England, — to Egypt, to China and to Japan.4
One young woman of dauntless resolution carried the words
of peace to the successor of Mohammed in his camp at Adrian-
ople, who received her with the respect due to one professing
to come in the name of God.5 Another took a message to the
Supreme Pontiff and his Cardinals at Rome.6 Some were
moved to go forth and convert the savages of the west and
the negroes of the south ; and one party set out in search of
the unknown realms of Prester John. Everywhere these
messengers bore the glad tidings they had themselves received ;
everywhere treating all men as equals and brothers; thee-ing
and thou-ing high and low ; protesting against all authority
not springing from the light in the soul — against all powers,
privileges and immunities founded on carnal history and
tradition ; and often at the peril of their lives refusing to lift
the hat or to bend the knee — except to God.7
The public teaching of a doctrine like this was in itself a
revolution. Cromwell clearly understood the nature of the
movement ; and tolerant as he was of religious sects, he would
willingly have put it down. But even his mighty arm was
paralysed. The Children of Light were also children of
peace. They did what they believed to be right ; and if then-
conduct pleased not the rulers of the earth they took the con-
1 Fox, 452.
2 Thurloe, vi. 708. Colonels of regiments wrote to inform Cromwell that
many of their officers and men had "begun to set their own humors above
all Scriptures, ministers and magistracies." Ibid vi. 168. Of course they
were expelled the army. vi. 241.
3 Gerard Croese, 468. ' Fox, 248.
B Thurloe, vii. 32. Sewell's Hist, of Quakers, i. 333.
6 Sewell i. 332.
7 They were mobbed in the streets of Lisbon for irreverence. Thurloe,
iii. 432.

WILLIAM PENN. 57
sequences to themselves in silence. Sects like the Anabap
tists, the Levellers and the Fifth-Monarchy men he knew
how to cajole or coerce. Their plots and conspiracies he
could meet on equal terms : as it suited his purpose, he could
buy them with honors or crush them with the sword. But
fear and favor were alike lost on the followers of Fox. They
would neither obey his laws nor resist his troops. They
opposed their silence to his severity. They were readier to
endure than he was to inflict : — and he foresaw that their
patience would tire out persecution.
Quakerism was a system of polity as well as a religion. }
It taught the equality of men in their political relations, — '
their common right to liberty of thought and action — to
express opinions — to worship God — to concur in the enact
ment of general laws ; but it found the sanctions of this
equality, not in the usages of ancient nations, like the classic
republicans — not in a mere convenient arrangement of checks
and counter-checks of power, like more modern reformers ;
it found these sanctions lying far deeper, in the very nature
of man, in that supremacy which it assigned to the divine
light in each separate individual. Above all things this sys
tem was logical. It regarded every man's inward light, —
reason, conscience or by whatever name it might be called —
as his best and safest guide ; the theory therefore of a per
fect enfranchisement of mind and body, of thought and action,
was the theological basis of the sect founded by George Fox.
To a man who had once mastered and accepted a great idea
like this, all minor matters — the refusal to doff the hat, to
bend the knee, , to receive or bestow titles of honor — followed
of course. The Quaker was a perfect democrat, and menf
were all his peers.2 He admitted no superior — and he could
pay no homage. The distinctions of prince and people, laity
and clergy were unknown to him : the light of God was the
same in all. He felt that the deference paid to worldly rank
was something more than a form. It involved the idea of a
superiority which he denied ; it was therefore a question of
conscience not to comply with it. The people who bent the
knee to prince or protector thereby confessed that in their
1 Cromwell is reported to have exclaimed—" Now I see there is a people
risen that I cannot win either with gifts, honors, oflices, or place : but all
other sects and people I can ! " Fox, 169.
2 Barclay, 504, 541.

58 WILLIAM PENN.
own thoughts they were not his equals. The act was not a
ceremony but a sign of subjection. Having adopted views
like these — is it wonderful that William Penn, in the fervor
of youth and recent conversion, should have renounced his
father's worldly dreams ?
The young Quaker was not left in the streets to starve.
He was gladly welcomed by the friends of his sect, and his
mother secretly supplied him with money. But beyond this,
his exile from home was extremely painful to him. His temper
was open and unreserved ; he was fond of home and the en
joyments of the domestic circle. On the other hand his con
solations under this trial of his strength were great. The
creed which he had embraced came home as the warm and
living blood to his heart. In it his free spirit found room for
unfettered action. The men who professed it, though given
to an extravagance at times which he could not approve,
were remarkable for the purity and simplicity of their lives.
What they professed they practised. It was not so with the
worldly men and women he had known in his father's circle.
At the play-house, to which his mother and sister were so
fond of going, he had seen virtue laughed at as ridiculous and
female modesty put to the blush in public; the galleries
of Whitehall, where the admiral thought it an honor to be
seen, he knew were thronged by bravoes and harlots, 'and the
royal palace itself a nest for every sin and abomination under
heaven.1 Look where he would upon that grand society from
which he suffered this voluntary banishment, — he saw nothing
but rottenness. Female chastity was a thing unknown, —
justice was openly bought and sold, — the interests of the
nation were bartered away to France for a miserable pension,
— the peace of private and honorable families was invaded by
wretches who boasted in public of the shame and ruin they
had made.2 A young man of pure thoughts and good impulses
might well turn anchorite in such a world of vice. The poli
tics of Quakerism had also their attractions. For five years
he had pored over the classic dreams of Algernon Sidney ;
he had read Harington and More ; and studied profoundly
the history of the departed Commonwealth. He saw that it had
brought with it peculiar evils ; more than all, it had failed He
wished to see the experiment of a democracy in action ; but he
1 Pepys' Diary and Grammont's Memoirs, every page. 2 Ibid.

WILLIAM PENN. 59
felt that some new principle was wanting. At length he fell
upon the principle he had sought. He found a true democracy
that rested on a religious idea. Penn loved the great republican
with more than a brother's love, — he respected and confided in
his masculine judgment, — but he had never yet thoroughly
given up his mind to that classical idea of a democracy, gov
erned only by pride of soul and heroic virtue.1 Now he had
caught the missing link of the chain. No two men could be
more unlike than George Fox and Algernon Sidney ; but
their common disciple saw the point of union, — with the one
he could admire the republics of Pericles and Scipio, while he
could deny with the other that historical precedent is superior
to the laws of conscience.
After a few months' absence, Penn was allowed to return
home. But the admiral's anger was not appeased ; he refused
to see or speak with the*Quaker ; and father and son continued
to live under the same roof as strangers to each other. William
now began to preach and to write in favor of his new tenets.
His first book had for title — " Truth Exalted ; in a short but
sure testimony against all those religious faiths and worships
that have been formed and followed in the darkness of apos
tacy, — and for that glorious Light which is now risen and
shines forth in the life and doctrine of the despised Quakers,
as the alone good way old of life and salvation."2 This work was
addressed to princes, priests and people, whom it called upon
in the most energetic terms to re-examine the grounds of their
belief in the divine economy of the universe, and to compare
the ideas in which it rested with those now set forth to engage
their attention. What he advised he also practised. Hat on
head he went down to Whitehall, bearing the unbridled ridi
cule of the court, to seek an interview with the powerful Duke
of Buckingham, upon whom he impressed the necessity of
toleration for Dissenters, — pleading their right to better treat
ment than the stocks, stripes, pillories and prisons they were
accustomed to meet with at the hands of men in power. He
appealed to the old laws of England, — he quoted the Saxon
customs and the charters of Norman kings, — he made out a
case so convincing that the Duke pledged himself to bring a
1 Penn to Sidney, Oct. 13, 1681, MS. Penn says in this letter that he has
given to Sidney "more true friendship and steady kindness . . . than
to any man living."
2 Collected Works, i. 239. '

60 WILLIAM PENN.
bill into Parliament to do them justice. It is creditable to
him that he kept his word, a disgrace to the Commons of Eng
land that they refused to discuss his proposition.1
The same year Penn made his second essay in controversy.
John Clapham, in a work called " A Guide to True Religion,"
had treated the Quakers with harsh and unjustifiable seve
rity : the young convert answered in " The Guide Mistaken,"
a tract written with considerable vigor, but in the coarse and
personal style common to the greatest polemics of that age.2
He soon had his days and nights occupied with controversy.
At this time there lived in Spitalfields one Thomas Vincent,
a Presbyterian minister, who had a congregation meeting at a
chapel in Spital Yard. Two of this man's hearers happening
to go to the Quakers' meeting-house to hear what the Children
of Light had to say for themselves, became converts ; an in
cident which so enraged the pastor that he began to revile the
Quakers from his pulpit, and to denounce their doctrines as
worthy of damnation. These tirades becoming a subject of
general conversation, Penn and George Whitehead, one of the
sturdiest defenders of the new opinions, went to Vincent and
demanded a public opportunity of hearing and replying to his
attacks. At first he refused ; but on being pressed, at length
saw the necessity of meeting the challenge. He was allowed
to name his own time as well as the place of discussion. He
of course chose his own chapel. Such religious debates were
very common at that time, and were among its most curious
features. When the disputants arrived, they found the room already
full of Vincent's friends ; and only the heads of the deputa
tion could force their way in. Whitehead, as the senior, began
to expound the views of his sect; but Vincent got up and
observed, that the shortest way would be for him to propose
questions, and for them to answer — as out of their own mouths
he would condemn them. To this proposal the audience as
sented, and the defendants were obliged to submit. Vincent
then asked them, — if they owned one Godhead subsisting in
three distinct and separate persons ? Penn and Whitehead
1 Penn's Fragments of an Apology for Himself. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem.
iii. second part, 238.
2 Compare Milton's "Defence of the People of England." Works.'i. 30.
St. John's edition. Why does not this elegant writer and accomplished
scholar write us a new life of Milton ?

WILLIAM PENN. 61
both asserted that the dogma as delivered by Vincent was not
to be found in Scripture. The latter answered this by a syl
logism. Quoting the words of St. John, he said — " There
are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the Word
and the Holy Spirit — and these three are one." "These,"
he proceeded to argue, " are either three manifestations, three
operations, three substances, or three somethings else beside
subsistences. — But they are not three manifestations, three
operations, three substances, nor any thing else beside three
subsistences. — Hence there are three separate subsistences yet
only one Deity." Whitehead rejected the term "subsistences "
as not of Scriptural origin, and desired an explanation of its
meaning. Several attempts were made to define the word ;
but Penn, who was deeply read in theology and metaphysics,
started a plausible objection to each in turn, and caused it to
be rejected. The subtlety of thought and dexterity in argu
ment which he exhibited caused one of the audience to call him
a Jesuit, a name which clung to him for the rest of his life.
The sum of the answers given, was, that subsistence is either
a person or the mode of a substance : whereupon Vincent was
asked if in his opinion God was to be understood as separate
from his substance ? The pastor appealed to his flock, and
they charitably ruled that he was not bound to answer that
question. Whitehead pressed other questions, but the uproar
increased then until no one could be heard. On this, Vincent
fell to prayer, in the course of which he accused the Quakers
of blasphemy ; when he had finished he told the people to go
home, and he himself left the pulpit. It was now midnight ;
the congregation began to leave ; and the defendants felt that
many would go away with a false impression. One of them
therefore got up to speak, whereupon the friends of Vincent
put out the candles. But in the dark, they went on ; and
many staying to listen, Vincent returned with a light to ask
them to disperse, but they would not stir until he had consented
to hold another meeting in the same place to end the discus
sion decently.1
This offer was a mere trick to get rid of the crowd. The
second meeting not being called in due course, Penn con
sidered it best to lay the matter before the public, in " The
Sandy Foundation Shaken." — In this work, which the fash-
1 Sewell, ii. 172-3.
6

62 WILLIAM PENN.
ionable friends of his father read with astonishment and
admiration, refusing to believe it to be the production of so
young a man,1 — he undertook to maintain the doctrine of a
unity in the Divine nature from reason and Scripture ; an
undertaking which brought him into conflict with more
formidable foes than Thomas Vincent, being no less person
ages than the Bishop of London and other high dignitaries of
the Church. It was not to be expected that these great men
would enter into a public discussion about the unity or plu
rality of the Divine nature. They had a far more powerful
argument, as they thought, in their hands ; and they applied
to the civil power to have the dangerous polemic placed in
confinement.2 At their instigation a warrant was issued
against him from the Secretary of State's office, — on hearing
of which he gave himself into custody and was carried to the
Tower.3 An unscrupulous enemy af the same time made
a bold but ineffectual attempt to ruin him forever, if not to
bring him to the scaffold. A letter appears to have been
picked up near the place where Penn surrendered himself,^-
no doubt it had been dropt there for the purpose, — which con
tained matter of so perilous a kind, that on the note being
presented to Lord Arlington, the Secretary of State, that
officer at once rode down to the Tower to examine the pri
soner as to its contents.4 This was not an uncommon trick of
the time. Arlington soon satisfied himself that Penn was not
a secret conspirator ; and not only behaved towards him with
great civility, but promised his interest in obtaining for him a
speedy liberation.5
He remained in the Tower eight months and sixteen days.6
Considering that his offence was not political — that no charge
was preferred against him in a court of law — that he had not
been put upon his defence — and that he stood unconvicted of
any crime, his confinement was monstrously severe. He was
kept in a solitary dungeon ; his family was not allowed access
to him ; nor was he permitted to see any other friend in his
prison save now and then his father.7 The prelate evidently
'Pepys, "February 12, 1668-9. Got William Penn's book against the
Trinity, and I find it so well writ, as I think it is too good for him to have
writ it ; it is a serious sort of book, and not fit for everybody to read."
2 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. second part, 239.
3 Besse, i. 6. 4 Letter to Arlington. Penn's Work's, fol. i. p. 151.
6 Ibid. 6 Apology in Penn. Hitt. Soc. Mem. iii. second part, 239.
¦ Ibid. r

WILLIAM PENN. 63
wished to break his spirit; but he little knew the mettle of the
youth, if he indulged in any such expectation. One day his
servant brought him word that the Bishop of London had
resolved he should either publicly recant, or die in prison.
He only smiled at such a threat. — " They are mistaken in
me : I value not their threats. I will weary out their malice.
Neither great nor good things were ever attained without loss
and hardship. The man that would reap and not labor, must
perish in disappointment."1
In this spirit he prepared to endure whatever amount of
suffering his powerful enemies might inflict. He took to the
prisoner's usual solace ; he began, to write, and added one
more glorious book to the literature of the Tower.2 " No
Cross, No Crown," still a favorite with the religious public,
revealed in the young prisoner powers for the possession of
which the world had not yet given him credit. Considering
the shortness of time, and other untoward circumstances
under which it was produced, the reader is struck with the
grasp of thought — the power of reasoning — the lucid arrange
ment of subject — and the extent of research displayed. Had
the style been more condensed, it would have been well en
titled to claim a high place in literature. The book arose
naturally out of the writer's position. He was suffering for
his opinions : he was suffering at the hands of men who pro
fessed to be the servants of God. He wished to present
clearly to his own mind, and to impress upon others, the
great Christian doctrine, that every man must bear the cross
who hopes to wear the crown.3 To this end he reviewed the
character of the age. He showed how corrupt was the laity,
— how proud and self-willed were the priests. In a passage,
pointed no doubt by personal feeling, he urges that wherever
1 Besse, i. 6.
2 Many of the works written in the Tower are enumerated in the London
Prisons, c. ii.
3 Lady Springett gives a fair idea of the struggles of the worldly heart
against the asceticism of Quaker doctrines. " I never had peace or quiet
from a sore exercise in my mind, for many months, till I was by y« stroke
of His judgment brought off all those things which I found y= Light to
manifest deceit in — which things cost me many tears, and night watchings,
and doleful days : not at all from that time ever disputing against the doc
trine (nay, not so much as in my own mind), but exercised against ye taking
up ye Cross; and [abandoning] ye language, fashions, customs, titles,
honors, and esteem of y» world, and the place I stood outwardly in. My
relations made it very hard." MS. Autobiography.

64 WILLIAM PENN.
the clergy have been most in power and influence, confusion,
wrangling, sequestrations, exiles, imprisonments, and blood
shed have most abounded : — in testimony of which he confi
dently appeals to the records of all time.1 He spoke of the
chief vices which were then eating out the heart of society ;
and proposed remedies. This part of the subject consists of
eighteen copious chapters — each chapter a dissertation in
itself. In one of them he gave his reasons for rejecting
worldly honors and distinctions, — the point which was the
sorest trial to his father, as the prospective Lord Weymouth,
and in reference to which he said, " No Cross, No Crown,"
was a serious cross to him. The second part consists of a
collection of the sayings of the heroes and sages of all nations
in favor of the same doctrine — namely, that to do well and
bear ill, is the only way to lasting happiness. This is the
most marvellous part of the work. First, he quotes numerous
sayings from eighty-seven celebrated pagans, all to his point ;
secondly, he cites various opinions from twenty-five of the
Apostles and Fathers of the Church ; and thirdly, he calls
into court thirty-nine great personages, chiefly of modern
times, to testify to the same effect.2 This would have been
no mean work for a veteran author to have accomplished in
so short a time with the wealth of a great public library at
his command. On being given to the world, the book pro
duced an impression highly favorable to its writer ; it went
rapidly through several editions, and is still frequently re
printed. The manliness of his conduct in prison won back to him
no small share of his father's regard. The admiral could not
but admire his constancy under privations which had shaken
his own iron obduracy, or help feeling some indignation at his
clerical oppressors. However much he might still disapprove
of his principles, and detest what he called his delusions about
equality and titles of honor, he could not stand aloof and
see him perish in his youth. He visited and talked with him
in his dungeon, and exerted his influence in the highest re
gions of the court to obtain for him an unconditional pardon;
but the offence being one of a purely ecclesiastical nature,
Charles, who had good reason to know himself suspected by
1 It was passages like this which so endeared the writings of Penn to
Voltaire and the Encyclopaedists. Diet. Phil, article, Quaker.
2 No Cross, No Crown, fol. i. 374, et seq.

WILLIAM PENN. 65
the Church, was anxious not to give a cause of fresh offence
by a direct interference. The House of Commons was in a
bad humor; it had recently spited him by rejecting that
measure of justice to Dissenters which he had solemnly
promised in his manifesto of Breda.1 However, to please the
admiral, he sent his chaplain, the courtly and accomplished
Stillingfleet, to talk the young man out of his errors, and to
persuade him to make submission, and receive a pardon
•from the offended prelate.2 The messenger performed- his
task with skill and kindness; but he failed in its object.
" The Tower," said Penn to his visitor, " is to me the worst
argument in the world." Stillingfleet avoided the point of
conscience, and spoke of the brilliant prospects which he for
feited by his change of creed, — of the king's well-known
favor to his family : it was to no purpose. Worldly hopes
were as powerless as worldly fears.3 " Tell my father, who
I know will ask thee," said he one day to his servant,. " that
my prison shall be my grave before I will budge a jot : — for
I owe my conscience to no mortal man." He was quite im
practicable !4
To Arlington he wrote a manly remonstrance against the
treatment which he had met with from those in authority.
He protests against the idea that in a proper state of political
society, men are to be punished for differences of opinion in
matters of religion ; it ought, he says, to satisfy the most
rabid sectarian that he can forbid his rival a share of heaven,
without also Tjanishing him the earth. The doctrine that be
cause men may not agree as to the things which belong to
another life, they are not to have liberty to eat, drink, sleep,
walk, trade, think, and speak in this, he considers supremely
ridiculous and dangerous. He maintains that the under
standing can be appealed to only by reason — not by force :
in his own case, he says, his enemies have discovered their
mistake, and therefore dare not bring him to trial. He in
vokes his born rights as an Englishman to be put on his
defence, so that if he must remain in prison, the world may
know on what grounds. He concludes — " I make no apology
for my letter as a trouble (the usual style of supplicants), be-
1 Com. Journ. April 28, 1688. Pari. Hist. iv. 413 et seq.
2 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. second part, 239.
3 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. second part, 239.
4 Besse, i. 6. 6*

66 WILLIAM PENN.
cause I think the honor that will accrue to thee by being just
and releasing the oppressed, exceeds the advantage that can
succeed to me."1 While this letter, and the reports of Stil
lingfleet, were operating a change in his favor at Whitehall,
he continued to solace himself with writing.2 Several answers
to his " Sandy Foundation Shaken" had appeared, in some
of which his views were much misrepresented : — to these he
now replied in a brief and vigorous pamphlet, which he en
titled, " Innocency with her Open Face."3 This work in
creased the public interest in his fate, and probably helped to
procure his liberation from the Tower.4 It is certain that
within a few days of its publication, an order was sent down
to Sir John Robinson, the lieutenant, to set him at liberty ;
but this act of grace was also connected with public events
and court intrigues.
The period was one of extraordinary trouble to the Penn
family. While his son was languishing in the Tower, a pow
erful combination in the House of Commons threatened to
bring about the admiral's ruin. Up to the close of July,
1667, when the treaty of Breda put an end to hostilities, the
war with Holland had continued to rage with more or less
violence, and with varying fortunes, after the great victory
of 1665 ; great damage being done to trade, although no
peace was conquered, nor any political advantage gained. As
soon as Admiral Penn ceased to command at sea, reverses
came ; and for nearly two years the war had been disastrous
and dishonorable to the arms of England. More than once a
Dutch fleet had ventured to appear in the Thames, as if to
remind the country that the men of the Commonwealth were
out of public employments.5 Monk and Rupert, men whose
peculiar services, or family connexions, gave them an unfor
tunate influence over the royal councils, had proved them
selves incompetent to contend against the nautical genius of
the Dutch admirals ; but in proportion to their want of skill
and knowledge was their passion for high naval commands.
Towards the old seamen of the Commonwealth the envy and
hatred of these officers were unappeasable. Ascue and Lawton
felt the blighting effects of their jealousy ; but the heaviest
weight of it fell on Admiral Penn. Monk, it is true, was
1 Coll. Works, i. 154.
2 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. 2d part, 239. 3 Works, ii. 266.
4 Such is the opinion of Besse, i. 6. ° Evelyn, July 27, 1607.

WILLIAM PENN. 67
past the time for very active service ; but Rupert was hot-
brained and ambitious, and anxious at any price to keep his
old enemy and present rival at home, attending to the pacific
duties of the Navy Board, while he gratified his own avarice
and lust of power by an uncontrolled command at sea. But
what was the king to do ? Taught by bitter experience — for
the Hollanders had burnt Chatham the year before,1 — that
the fleet was in a deplorable condition, the royal brothers were
anxious to avail themselves of the first moments of tranquillity
to make some reforms, with a view to restore that confidence
to the service which had been so terribly shaken by the late
disasters. This work could only be effected by an admiral of
tact and experience, — by one who joined the reputation of a
strict disciplinarian with the prestige of victory : and the
king at last agreed with the Duke of York that the only sea
man in his dominions equal to such a task was Admiral
Penn.2 This choice was peculiarly annoying to his two rivals. The
admiral had not sought the honors of command : its duties
were forced on him by the stern necessities of the time.3
There had been enough of landsmen blunders and misfor
tunes. A seaman was wanted ; and the humors of a prince,
even of the blood-royal, were not to be indulged at the
expense of another conflagration of the dock-yards. Rupert,
of course, was mortified ; and both he and Albemarle vented
their anger and disappointment aloud.4 In his usual boastful
and domineering way, Monk had taken an oath that Admiral
Penn should never go to sea again ; and he now felt bound
to make good his foolish vow. With Rupert he got up a plot
to keep him at home. The conspirators began by secretly
trying to undermine his reputation ; they spoke of his abili
ties and services in slighting terms ; insinuated what they
dared not boldly assert, and allowed their creatures to de
fame their brother officer without rebuke. One day, when
the newly-appointed commander called at Albemarle's house,
1 Albemarle's Report, presented to the House of Commons, Feb. 10, 1668.
The Duke was unquestionably to blame ; but his political influence preserved
him from censure. The poets of the period were more impartial in their
verdicts. See Sir John Denham's " Directions to a Painter," and Andrew
Marvel's "Last Instructions to a Painter."
2 The Duke of York never doubted the naval genius of Cromwell's cap
tains. Clarendon's Autobiography, ii. 354.
3 Pepys, February 20, 1668. 4 Ibid, February 24.

68 WILLIAM PENN.
to make some inquiries, the duchess, a low-bred woman, the
daughter of a blacksmith, and for some time mistress to the
man who afterwards married and raised her to the highest
rank of a subject — came into the room, and forgetting the
respect due to her own house, shouted at him, in the tone of
the camp, — " How dare you have the confidence to offer to go
to sea again, to the endangering of the nation, when you know
you are such a coward V'1 But such paltry malice was of no
avail against the fixed resolution of the royal brothers, to
have the conqueror of Van Tromp again at the head of then-
fleets ; and the two conspirators were obliged to adopt a new
and bolder course of action. Monk had at this time an almost
unbounded influence in the House of Commons, acquired by
the leading part he had played in the restoration of the Cava
liers to their families and estates ; and this influence he now
resolved to strain to the uttermost, to effect his own and the
prince's purpose. It was pretty evident to the conspirators
that no serious crime could be maintained against Penn ; but
this was of little consequence : if they could only get the
House to entertain some trumpery charge, which would place
him under accusation, and oblige him to prepare a defence,
their end would be answered. A person under impeachment
by Parliament, could not be sent out to sea in command of
the King's fleet ; their creatures in the House could avail
themselves of every pretext to delay the inquiry, until it be
came too late to finish it before the summer ; and in the
meantime, another commander must necessarily be appointed
to fill the vacant post. This was the game of Monk and
Bupert : it was a game worthy of the players, and they
played it well.2
The foes of Penn calculated their forces. They were aware
that the party of ultra-cavaliers had never been well affected
to him ; — for his glory and reputation belonged essentially to
the time of the Commonwealth ; and to add to their dislike,
his son and heir had given mortal offence by joining the
Quakers and writing against the doctrines ef the Church.
They were certain of the churchmen and cavaliers going with
them in their attempt. Against this threatening combination
the admiral could only array his services and the royal con
fidence in his abilities.
1 Ibid. February 29. 2 Pepys, March 27 ; April 28.

WILLIAM PENN. 69
In their designs against Penn, Rupert and Monk found a
worthy tool in Sir Robert Howard, a man described by Evelyn
as an insufferable boaster and a universal pretender ; this
writer of bad plays1 lent himself willingly to perform the chief
character in the coming farce. — On the 26th of March several
motions were made in the House about naval matters, —
"Only," as Pepys says, "to give affront to Sir W. Penn,
whose going to sea this year doth give them matter of great
dislike."2 The House agreed to revive a " Committee on
Miscarriages," which had done its work and dissolved, to
make a pretence of inquiries, and so prevent the commander,
who was then out of town, from going on board.3 In the re
sentment of the moment, the Duke of York declared, that
although they might prevent Penn going out, Prince Rupert
should not profit by the trick they were playing ; rather than
suffer such an outrage to find a reward, he would go on board
himself.4 But this threat was much easier to make than to
fulfil ; and three days later it was settled that Rupert should
have the command.5
Having gained their point, the zeal of the conspirators
waxed fainter, and their friends in the House obviously began
to cool.6 The proposal to arrest the accused was negatived ;
but having committed themselves so far, the members were
obliged to go on with it, and Sir Robert Howard was charged
with the conduct of the impeachment before the House of
Lords.7 The Lords refused to commit the admiral on the charge
sent up from the Lower House : instead of this they sent for
him;8 — "To Westminster Hall," says Pepys, "and saw Sir
W. Penn go into the House of Lords, where his impeachment
1 " The Committee"— " The Indian Queen"— "The Surprisal," &c. He
was the Bilboa in Buckingham's first draft of "The Rehearsal," afterwards
altered to Bayes, for Dryden.
2 Pepys' Diary, March 26, 1668. 3 Ibid. March 29 and 30
4 Ibid. March 30. Pepys, with his usual acuteness, saw at once the im
prudence of the Duke's taking this last step — "bnt I think it mighty hot
counsel for the Duke of York, at this time, to go out of the way."
6 Pepys. "April 3. This day I hear that Prince Enpert and Holmes do
go to sea ; and by this there is a seeming friendship and peace among our
great seamen ; but the devil a bit is there any love among them, or can be." -
6 Ibid. April 16.
7 Reports of the proceedings in the Commons were taken down at the time,
by Awchetill Grey, member for Derby. Grey's Debates, i. p. 133 et seq.
8 Journals of the House of Lords, April 24th to 27th, and 29.

70 WILLIAM PENN.
was read to him and he used mighty civilly, the Duke of York
being there ; and two days hence, at his desire, he is to bring
in his answer."1 On the day appointed he brought in his
reply to the charges exhibed against him, which reply was at
once accepted and transmitted to the lower House ;2 but in
spite of the Admiral's urgent requests, that complaisant bod;-
refused to consider the documents until it was too late to be
settled in that session.3 On the fourth of May a moment's
leisure was found to refer the answer back to the impeach
ment committee, with orders for it to consider the articles and
draw up a replication on the entire charge to be forwarded to
the Lords. There the matter ended. The House rose with
out settling the question it had raised. The conspirators had
gained their point, — Rupert was at sea, — and all the world
soon became aware of the game they had played and won.4
Thus months passed away, during which time William Penn
wrote and preached in behalf of his faith and was finally
committed to the Tower, and his father was only preserved
from the same doleful lodging by the firmness and independ
ence of the House of Peers. In society the rancor of party
found ample food in these intrigues. The King and Duke of
York being for the admiral, all those who for personal ends
were for the moment in opposition were of course against
him. The people were misled by false reports of the fortune
he had made, — and for a few weeks a good deal of odium at
tached to the family. To add to all these troubles, the sea
man's health was beginning to fail. His wear and wreck of
life had been great, and his constitution was completely un
dermined. For months he had now been seriously unwell ;
partly from attack of gout, partly from a general breaking up
of the system.5 The fortunes of his house looked unusually
1 Pepys, April 27.
2 Journal of the Lords, April 29, 1668. I have not thought it necessary
to enter into the nature of the charges against Penn's father in the text ;
they are carefully collected in Granville Penn's Memoirs, ii. p. 465 et seq.
3 A piece of meanness like this in the representatives of a great nation
seems almost incredible; but the motive was well known. " To Whitehall,"
says Pepys, " and there do hear how Sir W. Penn hath delivered in his an
swer ; the Lords have sent it down to the Commons, but they have not yet
read it, nor taken notice of it, so, as I believe, they will by design defer it
till they rise, and so he, by laying under an impeachment, may be prevented
in his going to sea, which will vex him, and trouble the Duke of York."
April 29.
4 See the proceedings reported at length in Howell's State Trials, Vol. vi.
p. 878. 5 Pepys' Diary, May 27 ; August 9.

WILLIAM PENN. 71
dark and louring. But after a few months of evil fortune,
the prospect began to brighten. The charges which had been
made against him in the House of Commons fell to the
ground ; public opinion came round in his favor ; he stood
again before the world without a spot on his reputation ; while
Sir Robert Howard, the tool of his powerful enemies, had
become a laughing stock, not only to the wits of the court,
but to the common citizens of London.1 After an absence,
caused by sickness, of some months' duration, Sir William
was able once more to leave his house and go down to the
navy office. His interest was now exerted in behalf of his
son, — and the Duke of York spoke to his royal brother on
the subject ; when, possibly at the admiral's desire, Stilling
fleet was sent down to the Tower by the princes to converse
with and re-convert the Non-conformer. How he failed in
his mission has been seen : there remained no other course
open but to set the impracticable youth at liberty without
conditions : and at the request of the Duke of York this was
immediately done.2
The change in his son's views, and the loss of dignity to
the family arising from his resolution not to accept the title
with which the King proposed to reward his own services,
were a cause of ceaseless trouble and vexation to the admiral.
He had no hope now that the whim would pass away : but
while he confessed to himself the hopelessness of continuing
the struggle of parental authority against conscience to any
useful issue, he fancied it due to himself and to his office not
to make or as yet to receive any advances towards a reconci
liation. Still, though he would not place himself in friendly
relations with his son, he no longer objected to Lady Penn
seeing him as often as she pleased ; and through her a sort of
verbal correspondence took place, which ended in William
accepting a proposal to go over to Ireland in execution of
some particular trusts confided to his care, and generally to
1 Sir Robert Howard had missed the shaft of Buckingham's wit, only to
be transfixed by that of Shadwell ; he and his mistress were held up to pub
lic ridicule as Sir Positive At-All and Lady Vaine, in the comedy of the
Sullen Lovers. " Lord ! to see how this play of Sir Positive At-All, in abuse
pf Sir Robert Howard, do take ! All the duke's, arid everybody's talk being
of that, and telling more stories of him of the like nature, that it is now the
town and country talk." Pepys, May 8, 1668.
2 Penn to Popple, Oct. 24, 1688.

72 WILLIAM PENN.
take on himself the management of the family estates in that
country.1 About the middle of September 1669, he quitted London,
and visiting his friends and relatives at Bristol on the way,
arrived at Shangarry Castle at the end of the following
month.2 As soon as he commenced his westward journey, his
father began to write to him directly. The letters were
chiefly details of business, — but the correspondence opened
with a passage in these words — " If you are ordained to be
another cross to me, God's will be done : and I shall arm
myself the best I can against it."3 His health was now fast
failing : and, with a consciously wistful looking back on his
old dreams, he was growing daily into a spirit more subdued
and reconciled.
From this time to the middle of the year 1670, more than
eight months, William remained in Ireland, chiefly employed
in attending to the affairs of the Shangarry property.4 But
he was not lukewarm in the cause with which he had now
identified himself. The very day of his arrival in Cork, he
went to the prison where those of his sect were confined, to
talk with and console them. Next day he held a meeting in
the prison, where he exhorted them to be steadfast in their
opposition to the unjust exercise of power by the magistracy.5
Nor did he fairly settle down to the business which had
brought him into Ireland, until he had made a journey back
to Dublin to attend a meeting of Friends ; when an account
of the suffering to which Quakers had been exposed in various
parts of the vice-royalty, was drawn up and carried by him
to his friend the Duke of Ormonde.6 Nor did his zeal con
tent itself with this intervention : he applied to all his old
friends at the vice-regal court, Sir George Lane, the Lord
Arran, and others, to engage them in his cause. His solicita
tions were renewed from time to time, until he forced them
to institute an inquiry into the alleged wrongs of the various
persons who had been cast into prison for conscience' sake, —
the result of which was, that an order in council was passed
on the 4th of June, 1670, for their release.7
But the larger portion of his time during these eight
1 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. second part, 240. 2 Besse, i. 2.
3 MS. letter, Oct. 6, 1669. 4 Granville Penn, ii. 560. 5 Besse, i. 6.
6Apology, Penn Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. second part, 240. ' Besse, i. 7.

WILLIAM PENN. 73
months' residence in Ireland was devoted to the execution of
the trusts confided to him by his father. A voluminous cor
respondence was kept up between Wanstead and Shangarry
Castle, but it is chiefly concerned with details of manage
ment.1 Finding that his health was fast breaking up, the
admiral retired from the Navy Board — to the great regret of
the King and the Duke of York, who had no man equal in
tact and knowledge to fill his place2 — and lived quietly at his
country seat in Essex. At this period the admiral was anx
ious to transfer his property to England, — and measures to
that end were among the principal topics of the correspond
ence between father and son. The unsettled state of the
country made him desirous of selling his estate at Shangarry
Castle ; but a purchaser not being easy to find, he requested
William to inquire if any of the tenants were disposed to
purchase the lands they rented. In the meantime his son-in-
law, Anthony Lowther, was looking out for an eligible pro
perty in Yorkshire for the Penns to buy ; and in April wrote
from his seat at Maske to say that he had found a property
within twenty miles of his own place, that would exactly suit
them : but it was now getting too late. Two days after this
letter is dated, there is among the admiral's papers a note to
his son, in which he says — " I wish you had well done all your
business there, for I find myself to decline." Though cold
in its expression, this note clearly hinted the admiral's wish
to see his son again. His anger was wearied out, and on the
edge of the grave the great objects for which he was prema
turely to give up his life began to appear of only minor con
sequence.- He had ceased to think'of his son's unworldly creed
as a whimsy. His constancy had stood the severest tests
unshaken — exile from home and privation abroad — the in
fluence of time and the horrors of the Tower. A fancy
which could inspire such resolution was in his eyes at least
respectable. As soon as he could arrange the great variety of affairs,
personal and magisterial, which he had in hand, William Penn
quitted Ireland. When he appeared at Wanstead, his father
and mother were alone. Margaret was with her husband at
Maske, in Yorkshire; Richard was travelling in Italy. Sir
William's health was failing more and more : for four or five
Granville Penn, ii. 560. 2 Pepys, Dec. 21, 1668; May 3, 1669.
7

74 WILLIAM PENN.
months he had not been able to leave the house ; and they
were consequently living in the greatest retirement. Such
a condition of domestic affairs was highly favorable to the
common desire for a reconciliation, — and as soon as the young
man arrived, it took place, to the great happiness of all parties
concerned.1

CHAPTER III.
1670.
TRIAL BY JURY.
The happiness of the Penn family was soon disturbed by
new persecutions of the sect with which William had connected
himself.2 The great question agitating the country at this
time was that of Liberty of Conscience — with its conse
quence, Free Worship. The Church of England was alarmed.
The Duke of York, the presumptive heir to the throne, was
an avowed Catholic. The King himself was suspected of
a leaning towards the ritual followed by his wife, his brother,
his brother's wife, and his own favorite mistress. Some of
the courtiers had recently apostatised ; and many others were
suspected of only waiting a more favorable moment to declare
themselves converts to the creed which alone found active
sympathy at Whitehall. But, if Popery threatened from
above, Puritanism was no less formidable below. The country
was known to swarm with the disbanded soldiers of Cromwell
— men as hostile to the establishment as to the monarchy.
Sects were daily multiplying in number. And now in the
midst of all these causes of dismay, the power with which
Parliament had armed the Church in its own defence, six
years before, was about to expire. This power was given
1 Granville Penn (Memoirs ii. p. 572), was of opinion that the quarrel of
Admiral Penn with his son was never serious; he rejects the idea ofhis
having " turned him out of doors." But William Penn's own words, are too
express for me to allow the slightest weight to such an opinion. — "The bitter
usage I underwent when I returned to my father — whipping, beating, and
turning out of doors." Travels in Holland and Germany, i. 92.
2 Penn to his father, Sept. 5, 1670.

WILLIAM PENN. 75
(May 16th, 1664) by the Conventicle Act — granted as an ex
periment for three years, and afterwards renewed for a se
cond term, — which act declared it seditious and unlawful for
more than five persons, exclusive of the family, to meet
together for religious worship according to any other than the
national ritual ; and every person above the age of sixteen
attending meetings of the character described was liable,
for the first offence, to be fined five pounds or imprisoned
during three months ; for the second offence, to be fined ten
pounds or imprisoned six months ; for the third offence, to be
fined a hundred pounds or transported beyond the seas for
seven years ; and for every additional offence, an additional
hundred pounds fine was inflicted. This monstrous enactment
had fallen with the heaviest weight on Quakers Other de
nominations of Dissenters, finding their excuses in the spirit
which prevailed against their doctrines, evaded these penalties
either by a pretended conformity or by secret adherence to
their own rules. The followers of George Fox alone braved
the law openly, — continuing to worship in public as before, —
and submitting to the fines, degradations, and imprisonments
which the law awarded ; resolved to tire out persecution by
the patient spirit in which they endured affliction for con
science' sake.
And now this bill was about to expire by efflux of time.
Ought it to be renewed — and, if so, in what shape ? These
were the questions of the day. The Duke of York, anxious
for the toleration of his own sect, wished to see the bill sink
into oblivion. The ministry, desirous, as they pretended, of
checking the growth of Popery and Socinianism, seemed will
ing to include all Dissenters within the pale of the law.
Wilkins, Tillotson, Stillingfleet, and Bruton were consulted
on the part of the Church ; Baxter, Bates, and Manton on
the part of the Nonconformists. But the Church itself
would not agree to the proposal of the ministry. Men of ex
treme opinions, like Parker and Patrick, vehemently opposed
every measure which savored concession ; while others of
more moderate views, like Owen and Andrew Marvel, con
tended for a union of all shades of Anglican theology against
the common enemy entrenched in Whitehall.
Could the members of the House of Commons have been
made aware of what was passing at that time between his
most Catholic Majesty Louis XIV. and their own sovereign,

76 WILLIAM PENN.
they would probably have paused in their career of vindictive
legislation against Dissenters. Charles had already declared
himself a Catholic to the confidential servants of Louis. A
few days after the discussion in Parliament, the King of Eng
land bound himself by the secret treaty of Dover to make
public profession of Popery; to send over his fleets and
armies to destroy and deliver over to France, Protestant
Holland; to maintain by sea and land the claims of the
Bourbons to the crown of Spain and the dominions of the
New World I1 in return for these services Louis stipulated to
grant the spendthrift King a large subsidy and to send
over an army to crush out the last remnants of the national
fredom, if the people should presume to resist. This treaty
was signed in May, 1670 ; the Conventicle Act was renewed
in April. Far-seeing men, of moderate conservative views,
began to look forward with despair.2
William Penn soon became a victim of this enactment.
The Quakers, as usual, taking no notice of the attempt of
Parliament to interfere with their modes of worship, went on
the 14th of August to their meeting-house in Gracechurch
street. They found it closed — and the doors guarded by a com
pany of soldiers.3 Unable to enter the building, the members
loitered about until there was a considerable crowd, when
William Penn took off his hat and began to address them.
Seeing this movement, the constables came forward and ar
rested him, together with Captain William Mead, an old sol
dier of the Commonwealth and now a draper in the City.4
Penn demanded to be shown their authority for this act, and
the officers at once produced a warrant prepared beforehand,
and signed by the Lord Mayor, Sir Samuel Starling. The
whole of the little drama had been previously arranged by the
civic powers ; and Penn and Mead were instantly taken from
the place of meeting to undergo examination.5 Knowing that
1 Secret Treaty. Note B. in Lingard, xii. 354, where it was first published.
2 " Met Mr. Evelyn, and talked of several things ; but particularly of the
times ; and he tells me that wise men do prepare to remove abroad what
they have, for that we must be ruined ; our case being past relief, the kingdom
being so much in debt, and the King minding nothing but his lust, going two
days a week to see my Lady Castlemaine." Pepys' Diary, August 8, 1667.
3 It was quite common for soldiers to invade meeting-houses. Life of
Latye, 59.
4 Penn to his father, Aug. 15, 1670. Philadelphia Friend, vi. 170.
6 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, fol. vol. i. p. 7.

WILLIAM PENN. 77
Admiral Penn was on his death-bed, the petty officers of the
city gave a loose rein to their native insolence. When the
prisoner refused to doff his hat, the Lord Mayor threatened
to carry him to Bridewell and have him well whipped — though
he was the son of a Commonwealth admiral ! On being re
minded that the law was against such a course of proceeding,
he ordered them to be sent to the Black Dog, a wretched
sponging-house in Newgate Market, to await their trial at the
Old Baily.1 From this place of durance he wrote to his father
in the most affectionate terms ; and, while glorying in his suf
ferings for a great principle, expressed his deep regret at
being dragged away from home at such a time.2
On the 1st of September, 1670, the two prisoners were
placed in the dock to answer the charges brought against
them. Every thing considered, the character of the men, the
interests at issue, the course of the proceedings, and the final
results — this is perhaps the most important trial that ever
took place in England. Penn stood before his judges in this
celebrated scene, not so much as a Quaker pleading for the
rights of conscience — as the Englishman contending for the
ancient and imprescriptible liberties of his race.3 The special
law on which he was arraigned, he knew very well that he
had violated and intended again and again to violate. His
religious friends took the same, view of the case : they ac
knowledged the Conventicle Act to be in force according to
the mere forms of jurisprudence; but they contended that it
was in direct contradiction to the divine laws, and therefore
not binding. Better versed in his country's history, Penn
disputed its legality. He held it to be in equal hostility to
the Bible and the Great Charter. This therefore was the
point to be brought to an issue — Does an edict possess the
virtue and force of law, even when passed by Crown and Par
liament, which abolishes any one of the fundamental rights
secured to the nation by the ancient constitution-? A most
important point in itself; and dear to England were the in
terests which hung on the result. Penn foresaw how the
constitutional question would arise ; and that the trial might
be rendered a means of helping to secure the civil liberties of
' Penn to his father, Aug. 15, 2 Penn to his father, Aug. 15.
3 Penn held the fundamental laws, those of the old charters, to be unalter
able—completely out of the power of the Estates of the realm to change.
See his "England's Present Interest Considered," fol. i. 674, 5.
7*

78 WILLIAM PENN.
the nation — now seriously menaced by a treacherous and
despotic court, supported by a bench equally corrupt and ser
vile, — even if, as he expected, it should fail in establishing the
claims of conscience. Thus he reasoned with himself: If, as
on ordinary occasions we should feel bound to do, we now
plead guilty, by our punishment this wicked act will acquire
an additional force : but if we deny our guilt, as we may with
good conscience, and throw the burden of proof on the court,
we shall show to all the world the evil animus of our perse
cutors; and we shall also be able to raise the question,
whether this law be in harmony with the Great Charter. If
the court cannot show that it is — will a jury of Englishmen,
fairly appealed to, convict ? Should a precedent be set of
juries refusing to convict under a bad law, the arm of tyranny
would be at once paralysed.1 Yes: they would adopt the
course suggested by this train of thought. They would take
their stand on the old rights — make their appeal to the old
charters of the nation.2
The justices who occupied the bench were ten in number :
Sir Samuel Starling, Lord Mayor; Alderman Sir Thomas
Bludworth, Alderman Sir William Peak, Alderman Sir
Richard Ford, Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower,
and Alderman Sir John Sheldon ; Sir John Howel, the Re
corder ; and the sheriffs, Richard Brown, Sir John Smith,
and Sir Samuel Edwards. The clerk of the Court ordered
the crier to call over the jury as follows — and no twelve citi
zens of London have better deserved to have their names held
in admiring remembrance : Thomas Veer, Edward Bushel,
John Hammond, Charles Milson, Gregory Walklet, John
Brightman, William Plumstead, Henry Henley, James
1 Penn was a staunch asserter ofthe right — then contested, now admitted v
— of the juror to judge of both law and fact. " Truth Rescued From Im
posture," fol. i. 500. ^J
2 The fundamental rights which Penn held to be peculiar to Englishmen, \
were the four following : (1.) Security of property ; (2.) Liberty of person ;
(3.) The right of assisting to make every law by which that security of
property, or that liberty of person may be affected; (4.) A real share, by
means of the jury, in the actual administration of the civil law. "England's
Present Interest Considered," fol. i. 675. Relying on the authority of Coke,
Penn fully believed that all these rights had come down from the Saxon pe
riod. Modern scholars have disputed the claim of the Saxons to the honor
of being the founders of the jury system. The point is exceedingly knotty ;
but I incline strongly to the old opinion, and shall take my chance of going
wrong'on a point of legal history with Coke and Spelman, Blackstone and
Turner in company.

WILLIAM PENN. 79
Damask, Henry Michel, William Lever, and John Baily.
These good men and true, answered to their names, and were
sworn to try the prisoners at the bar, and find according to
the evidence adduced.1 The indictment was then read aloud :
" That William Penn, gentleman, and William Mead, late
of London, linen draper, with divers others persons, to the
jury unknown, to the number of three hundred, the 15th day
of August, in the twenty-second year of the King, about
eleven of the clock in the forenoon of the same day, with force
and arms, &c, in the parish of St. Bennet Gracechurch, in
Bridge Ward, London, in the street called Gracechurch
Street, unlawfully and tumultously did assemble and congre
gate themselves together, to the disturbance of the peace of
the said lord the King : And the aforesaid William Penn and
William Mead, together with other persons, to the jury afore
said unknown, then and there assembled and congregated
together ; the aforesaid William Penn, by agreement between
him and William Mead, before made, and by abetment of the
aforesaid William Mead, then and there in the open street,
did take upon himself to preach and speak, and then and
there did preach and speak unto the aforesaid William Mead,
and other persons there in the street aforesaid, being as
sembled and congregated together, by reason whereof a great
concourse and tumult of people in the street aforesaid, then
and there, a long time did remain and continue, in contempt
of the said lord the King, and his lawj to the great dis
turbance of his peace, to the great terror and disturbance of
many of his liege people and subjects, to the ill-example of
all others in the like case offenders, and against the peace of
the said lord the King, his crown, and dignity."
This was the form and matter of this celebrated indict
ment : the one was worthy of the other. As a question of
law the only verdict that could be given, with common de
cency, must have been an acquittal. In order to be safe, the
fanatical lord mayor had overshot his mark. Let the terms
of the charge engage a moment's attention. To begin, the
date is wrong : the meeting took place on the 14th, not on
the 15th. It asserted that the persons met together, were in
arms : of this no proofs were offered. It affirmed that Penn
and Mead had agreed beforehand : no evidence in support

The People's Ancient And Just Liberties Asserted, fol. i. 9.

80 WILLIAM PENN.
was given. It charged Mead with abetting Penn : the wit
nesses could prove only that Mead wished to get near Penn,
but was unable. There were other contradictions, absurdi
ties, and assertions, for which no proofs could be adduced ;
but these are enough to show the character of the persecu
tion. The Clerk of the Court then said aloud — " What say you,
William Penn and William Mead, are you guilty as you stand
indicted, in manner and form as aforesaid, or not guilty ?"
Penn : It is impossible that we should be able to remember
the indictment verbatim, and therefore we desire a copy of it,
as is customary on the like occasions.
The Recorder : You must first plead to the indictment be
fore you can have a copy of it.
Penn : I am unacquainted with the formality of the law,
and therefore before I shall answer, I request two things of
the court : — first, that no advantage be taken against me, nor
I be deprived of any benefit which I might otherwise have re
ceived ; secondly, that you will promise me a fair hearing,
and liberty of making my defence.
Court: No advantage shall be taken against you: you
shall have liberty, you shall be heard.
Penn : Then I plead — not guilty, in matter and form.
The same questions being put to Mead, and the same
answers returned, full liberty of defence was given, and he
pleaded — not guilty. The court then adjourned until three
o'clock. On resuming its functions, the court commanded the pri
soners to be brought forward ; they were placed at the bar,
but to add insult to cruelty, were set aside while several cases
of common felony were tried and disposed of. Having sat
five hours, the court rose and adjourned for two days. Mean
time the Quakers were sent back to their filthy dungeons in
Newgate.1 These pitiful tricks are all worthy of remark.
On the third of September, the court sat again. The pri
soners would have come in with their hats on, but were pre
vented by the officers stationed at the door. As this was
being done, the lord mayor — a character common enough in
all unquiet times, a man who, always siding with the strongest
party, had been a violent persecutor of the Cavaliers under
1 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, fol. i. 10.

WILLIAM PENN. 81
Cromwell,1 and was now anxious to show his zeal for the
cause of the restored powers in Church and State — shouted
from the bench — " Sirrah ! who bid you put off their hats ?
Put them on again." Whereupon the officer did as he was
told — the prisoners offering no resistance to the wish of his
lordship.2 When they were placed at the bar thus covered,
the dialogue begun :
The Recorder : Do you know where you are ?
Penn : Yes. ,
Recorder : Do you know this is the King's court ?
Penn : I know it to be a court, and I suppose it to be the
King's court.
Recorder : Do you know there is respect due to the court ?
Penn : Yes.
Recorder : Why do you not pay it then ?
Penn : I do so.
Recorder : Why do you not put off your hat, then ?
Penn : Because I do not believe that to be any respect.
Recorder : Well ; the court sets forty marks a-piece on your
heads as a fine for contempt of court.
Penn : I desire it may be observed that we came into Court
with our hats off — that is, taken off — and if they have been
put on since, it was by order of the Bench ; and therefore not
we, but the Bench should be fined.
Here, the jury being again sworn, Sir John Robinson,
suspecting that Edward Bushel, one of the jury, known to be
a religious man, had an objection to take frequent oaths, pre
tended not to have seen him kiss the book, and desired him to
be again sworn.3 The first witness was then called :4
James CooJc :- 1 was sent for from the Exchange to go and
disperse a meeting in Gracechurch Street, where I saw Mr.
Penn speaking to the people, but I could not hear what was
said on account of the noise. I endeavored to make way to
take him, but I could not get near him for the crowd of people ;
upon which Captain Mead came to me about the kennel of the
street and desired me to let him go on, for when he had done
he would bring Mr. Penn to me.
1 Postscript to Truth Rescued, fol. i. 520.
2 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, i. 10.
3 Truth Rescued, fol. i. 504.
4 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, i. 11.
6 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Aserted, fol. i. 11.

82 WILLIAM PENN.
Court : What number do you think there might be there ?
Cook : About three or four hundred people.
The second witness for the prosecution was now called and
sworn. Court : What do you know concerning the prisoners at the
bar? Richard Read : My lord, I went to Gracechurch Street,
where I found a great crowd of people, and I heard Mr. Penn
preach to them, and I saw Captain Mead speaking to Lieu
tenant Cook, but what he said I could not tell.
Mead : What did William Penn say ?
Read : There was such a great noise I could not tell what
he said.
Mead : Observe this evidence ; he saith, he heard him
preach ; and yet saith, he doth not know what he said. — Take
notice (to the jury), he means now a clean contrary thing to
what he swore before the Mayor when we were committed. I
appeal to the Mayor himself if this be not true.
Sir Samuel refused to give an answer, yea or nay.
Examination resumed :
Court: What number do you think there might be there?
Read : About four or five hundred.
Penn : I desire to know of the witness what day it was 1
Read : The 14th of August.
Penn : Did he speak to me, or let me know he was there 1
For I am very sure I never saw him. — The Court would not
put the question.
Another witness was called : his name not given.
Unknown witness: My lord, I saw a great number of
people, and Mr. Penn I suppose was speaking, for I saw him
make a motion with his hands and heard some noise, but could
not understand what was said. But for Captain Mead, I did
not see him there.
Recorder : What say you, Mr. Mead, were you there ?
Mead: It is a maxim in your own law — Nemo tenetur
accusare seipsum — which, if it be not true Latin, I am sure it
is true English — No man is bound to accuse himself. And
why dost thou offer to ensnare me with such a question ? Is
this like unto a judge, that ought to be counsel for prisoner
at the bar ?
Recorder : Hold your tongue, sir. I did not go about to
ensnare you.

WILLIAM PENN. 83
* This was the case for the prosecution ! Not a single point
was proved : not even the preaching or the assembly for public
worship. Was ever such another case sent to a jury ? On
the last remark of Mr. Recorder Howel's, there ensued consi
derable hubbub in court : the chief prisoner at length brought
them to a sense of their duty.1
Penn : I desire we may come more close to the point, and
that silence be commanded. — The crier having snouted the
usual call, Penn proceeded : We confess onrselves so far from
recanting or declining to Vindicate the assembling of ourselves
to preach, to pray or worship God, that we declare to all the
world, we believe it to be our indispensable duty to meet in
cessantly on so good an account ; nor shall all the powers on
earth be able to prevent us.
Sheriff Brown : You are not here for worshipping God, but
for breaking the laws.
Penn : I affirm I have broken no law ; nor am I guilty of
the indictment that is laid to my charge ; and to the end that
the Bench, the jury, myself, and those who hear us may have
a more direct understanding of this procedure, I desire you
would let me know by what law it is you prosecute me, and
on what law you ground your indictment.
Recorder: Upon the common law.
Penn : Where is that common law ?
Recorder : You must not think that I am able to sum up so
many years and ever so many adjudged cases, which we call
common law, to satisfy your curiosity.
Penn : This answer I am sure is very short of my question ;
for if it be common it should not be so very hard to produce.
Recorder (baffled by the prisoner's tact, and like other men
when they feel themselves foiled at their own weapons, losing
his temper) : Sir, will you plead to your indictment ?
Penn : Shall I plead to an indictment that has no founda
tion in law ? If it contain that law you say I have broken,
why should you decline to produce it, since it will be impossi
ble forthe jury to determine, or agree to bring in their verdict,
who have not the law produced by which they should measure
the truth of the indictment.
Recorder (waxing still warmer) : You are a saucy fellow.
Speak to the indictment.
1 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, fol. i. 11.

84 WILLIAM PENN.
Penn : I say it is my place to speak to matter of law. I
am arraigned a prisoner. My liberty, which is next to life
itself, is now concerned. You are many against me ; and it
is hard if I must not make the best of my case. I say again,
unless you show me and the people the law you ground your
indictment upon, I shall take it for granted your proceedings
are merely arbitrary.
Hereupon the whole Bench set at the prisoner and by dint
of noise and vehemence tried to bear him down. He replied
calmly and with a subtle and incisive logic which galled the
venal ministers of justice all the more because it could not be
answered. After a while, the trial went on a little more de
corously. ¦
Recorder : The question is — whether you are guilty of this
indictment. Penn : The question is not whether I am guilty of this in
dictment, but whether this indictment be legal. It is too
general and imperfect an answer to say it is common law,
unless we know both where and what it is : for where there is
no law there is no transgression j1 and that law which is not
in being, so far from being common law, is no law at all.
Recorder : You are an impertinent fellow. Will you teach
the court what law is ? It is lex non scripta. That which
many have studied thirty or forty years to know, would you
have me tell you in a moment ?
Penn : Certainly, if the common law be so hard to be under
stood it is far from being very common : but if the Lord Coke
in his Institutes (vol. ii. p. 50) be of any weight, he tells us
that — " Common law is common right, and common right is
the great charter privileges confirmed by 9 Henry III. c. 29 :
by 25 Edward I. c. 1 : and by 2 Edward III. c. 8.
Recorder (more and more uncomfortable every moment):
Sir, you are a very troublesome fellow, and it is not for the
the honor of the court to allow you to go on.
Penn : I have asked but one question, and you have not
answered me — though the rights and privileges of every Eng
lishman are concerned in it.
. 2 Tibi non est lex ibi non est transgressio. — Coke. The reader of the Insti
tutes will find how completely William Penn had mastered both their spirit
and terminology. His defence is almost wholly clothed in the language of
the great lawyer.

WILLIAM PENN. 85
Recorder : If I should suffer you to ask questions till to
morrow morning you would be never the wiser.
Penn: That would depend upon the answers. (That was
a word sent home.)
Recorder: Sir, we must not stand to hear you talk all
night. Penn : I design no affront to the court, but to be heard in
my just plea. And I must plainly tell you, that if you deny
me the oyer of that law which you suggest I have broken, you
do at once deny me an acknowledged right, and evince to the
whole world your resolution to sacrifice the privileges of Eng
lishmen to your sinister and arbitrary designs.
Recorder (lost beyond recovery) : Take him away ! My
Lord, if you do not take some course with this pestilent fellow
to stop his mouth, we shall not be able to do any thing to
night. Lord Mayor: Take him away, take him away ! Put him
into the bale-dock.
Penn : These are so many vain exclamations. Is this jus
tice or true judgment ? Must I be taken away because I plead
for the fundamental laws of England ? However, (addressing
the jury) this I leave upon, your consciences, who are my sole
judges, that if these ancient fundamental laws, which relate
to liberty and property — and are not limited to particular
persuasions in matters of religion — must not be indispensably
maintained — who can say he has a right to the coat upon his
back? If not, our liberties are open to be invaded — our
wives ravished — our children enslaved — our families ruined —
our estates led away in triumph. The Lord of heaven and
earth will be judge between us in this matter.1
Recorder : Be silent there.
But Penn would not be silent till he had completed his
defence. The bench had given him a solemn promise that he
should have liberty of speech. He asserted his right to be
heard by the jury ; for not only did his personal liberty de
pend upon the issue, but the peace of ten thousand families
besides. Determined to hear no more, the Lord Mayor and
Recorder commanded the officers of the Court to carry the
prisoner to the bale-dock — a well-like place at the farthest
end of the court, in which he could neither see nor be seen
1 The heads of this speech are preserved in Gerard Croese, 75-77.

86 WILLIAM PENN.
by the bench, jury, or public. Thither he was forced under
a protest against their right to remove him before the jury
retired.1 Mead then addressed himself to his peers :
Mead : You men of the jury, — Here I stand to answer an
indictment which is a bundle of lies : for therein I am accused
that I met vi et armis illicite et tumultuosi. Time was when
I had freedom to use a carnal weapon, and then I thought I
feared no man ; but now I fear the living God. I am a
peaceable man ; and therefore ask, like William Penn, an oyer
of the law on which our indictment is founded.
Recorder : I have made answer to that already.
The old soldier of Cromwell was not to be cowed. Turning
from the bench to the jury box he told them, that if the Re
corder would not tell the court what constituted a riot and
an unlawful assembly, he would quote for them the opinions
of Lord Coke. A riot, said that great legal writer, was when
three or more met together to beat a man, or enter his house
by force, or cut his grass, or trespass on his land. — Here the
learned Recorder took off his hat to the prisoner, and making
a low bow, said in a tone which was meant to be withering — ¦
I thank you, sir, for teaching me what is law.
Mead : Thou mayest put on thy hat : I have no fee to give
thee. Sheriff Brown : He talks at random : one while an Inde
pendent — now a Quaker — next a Papist.
Mead : Turpe est doctori cum culpa redarguit ipsum.
Lord Mayor : You deserve to have your tongue cut out.
Mead : Thou didst promise me I should have fair liberty
to be heard. Am I not to have the privilege of all English
men? Recorder : I look upon you to be an enemy to the laws of
England, which ought to be observed and kept ; nor are you
worthy of the privileges others have.
Mead : The Lord be judge between thee and me in this
matter. Hereupon the court ordered Mead to be also removed to
the bale-dock : and in the absence of the parties accused of
crime, the court proceeded to charge the jury as follows :
Recorder : You, gentlemen of the jury, have heard what
the indictment is : it is for preaching to the people and draw-
1 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, fol. i. 12.

WILLIAM PENN. '87
ing a tumultuous company after them : and Mr. Penn was
speaking. If they should not be disturbed, you see they will
go on. There are three or four witnesses have proved this —
that Mr. Penn did preach there, that Mr. Mead did allow of
it. After this, you have heard by substantial witnesses what
is said against them. Now we are on matter of fact, which
you are to keep and to observe, as what hath been fully sworn,
at your peril.
Penn (from the bale-dock, at the top of his voice) : I ap
peal to the jury who are my judges and to this great assem
bly, whether the proceedings of the court are not most arbi
trary and void of all law in offering to give the jury their
charge in the absence of the prisoners ! I say it is directly
opposed and destructive to the right of every English prisoner,
as declared by Coke in the 2d Institute 29, on the chapter of
Magna Charta.
Recorder (with a pleasant smile) : Why, you are present :
you do hear. Do you not ?
Penn : No, thanks to the court that commanded me into
the bale-dock. And you of the jury, take notice that I have
not been heard ; neither can you legally depart the court
before I have been fully heard, having at least ten or twelve
material points to offer in order to invalidate their indictment.
Recorder : Pull that fellow down ; pull him down. — Take
them to the hole. To hear them talk doth not become the
honor of the court. ¦
And so they were taken out of the bale-dock and carried
off to the hole in Newgate — the nastiest place in the most
loathsome gaol in England, a den which Penn describes as so
noisome that the Lord Mayor would think it unfit for his pigs
to lie in.1 The Recorder then commanded the jury to agree
in their verdict according to the facts sworn. They retired :
but the court remained sitting : the vast concourse of people2
keeping an eager eye on the door which led into the jury-
room, each spectator being anxious to catch the first glimpse
of the foreman's face, to read the result before it could be
spoken out in words.
An hour and a half had passed when the door opened, and
eight of the twelve walked into court. They said they could
not agree upon a verdict. The Recorder commanded the un-
1 Truth Rescued, folio, i. 506. 2 Ibid. fol. i. 511.

88 WILLIAM PENN.
complying four to be brought into his presence : they came :
and the court heaped abuse upon them in a style which was
peculiar to that splendid and polite generation. Edward
Bushel was one of those who held out most strongly for the
right to give an honest verdict; and the rage of the whole
bench was vented upon him.
Recorder: You, sir, are the cause of this disturbance, and
manifestly show yourself an abettor of faction. I shall set a
mark upon you, sir.
Sir John Robinson : I know you. You have thrust your
self upon this jury.
Bushel : No, Sir John. There were three score before me
on the panel, and I would willingly have got off, but could
not. Sir John Robinson : I tell you, you deserve to be indicted
more than any man that has been indicted this day.
Lord Mayor : Sirrah, you are an impertinent fellow ! I
will put a mark on you.
This is a sample of the language made use of by the bench.
The jury retired again : they were absent a longer time than
before : at length they returned, and, Penn and Mead being
sent for, silence was commanded.
Clerk : Are you agreed in your verdict ?
Thomas Veere, the Foreman : Yes.
Clerk : How say you ? Is William Penn guilty of the mat
ter whereof he stands indicted in manner and form, or not
guilty ?
Foreman : Guilty of speaking in Gracechurch Street.
Court : Is that all ?
Foreman : That is all I have in commission.
Recorder : You had as good say nothing.
Lord Mayor: Was it not an unlawful assembly? You mean
he was speaking to a tumult of people there ?
The foreman explained that on those points they were not
agreed. Here the court thought proper to converse with
each juryman separately, so as to influence them in detail :
some of the men expressed themselves in favor of the views
taken by the bench ; but Edward Bushel, John Hammond,
and two or three others, declared that they could admit no
such term as unlawful assembly into the verdict. By threats
and foul language the court tried to bear these men down —
the Lord Mayor, the Recorder, Sir John Robinson, and Al-

WILLIAM PENN. 89
derman Bludworth, particularly distinguishing themselves by
their copious use of the idioms of Blackheath and Billings
gate.1 Recorder : The law of England will not allow you to de
part till you have given in your verdict.
Foreman : We have given in our verdict : we can give in
no other.
Recorder : Gentlemen, you have not given in your verdict ;
you had as good say nothing as what you had said. Therefore
go and consider it once more.
A Juror : We desire we may have pen, ink, and paper.
This request was granted, and the court adjourned for half
an hour. When they returned they give in a written verdict,
— again finding William Penn guilty of speaking to an as
sembly met together in Gracechurch Street, — and acquitting
William Mead. This was signed by all the twelve. On hear
ing it read aloud the Lord Mayor broke out into a fearful
passion. "What," he shouted at the whole jury, "will you
be led by such a silly fellow as Bushel — an impudent, canting
knave ! I warrant you, you shall not come upon juries again
in a hurry." And then turning on Thomas Veere, exclaimed
— "You are a foreman, indeed! I thought you understood
your place better." The city lawyer came more directly to
the point.
Recorder : Gentlemen, you shall not be dismissed till you
bring in a verdict which the court will accept. You shall be
locked up, without mqat, drink, fire, and tobacco. You shall
not think thus to abuse the court. We will have a verdict by
the help of God, or you shall starve for it.
Penn : My jury, who are my judges, ought not to be thus
menaced. Their verdict should be free — not forced.
Recorder: Stop that fellow's mouth, or put him out of
court. - Lord Mayor (to the jury): You have heard that he
preached ; that he gathered a company of tumultuous people ;
and that they not only disobey the martial power, but the
civil also.
Penn : That is a mistake. We did not make the tumult,
but they that interrupted us. The jury cannot be so ignorant
1 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, fol. i. 13, and Truth
Rescued from Imposture, folio, i. 495. 8*

90 WILLIAM PENN.
as to think we met there to disturb the peace, because it is
well known that we are a peaceable people, never offering
violence to any man, and were kept by~force of arms out of
our own house.
Baffled and beaten, out-argued in law, and its evil animus
exposed to the public, the bench lost its temper and would
sit no longer. It was ordering the jury to be locked up and
the prisoners to be taken back to Newgate, when Penn again
addressed them :
Penn : The agreement of twelve men is a verdict in law ;
and such a one being given by the jury, I require the clerk of
the peace to record it — as he will answer at his peril. And
if after this, the jury bring in another verdict contrary
to this, I affirm they are perjured men. — Then, looking at the
jurors, he added, You are Englishmen, mind your privileges.
Give not away your rights.
One of the jury pleaded indisposition.
Lord Mayor : You are as strong as any of them. Hold
your principles and — starve.
Recorder : Gentlemen, you must be content with your hard
fate: let your patience overcome it. The court is resolved
to have a verdict.
The whole Jury: We are agreed. We are agreed. We
are agreed.
They were locked up. Next morning, being Sunday, the
court was crowded as before to see the prisoners and to hear
the verdict. At seven o'clock the names of the jury were
called over ; each man answered to his name, and the clerk
inquired if they were agreed, They replied they were. Guilty
or not guilty ?
Foreman : William Penn is guilty of speaking in Grace
church Street.
Lord Mayor : To an unlawful assembly ?
Bushel : No, my lord. We give no other verdict than we
gave last night.
Lord Mayor : You are a factious fellow ; I'll take a course
with you.
Aid. Bludworth : I knew Mr. Bushel would not yield.
Bushel : Sir Thomas, I have done according to my con
science. Lord Mayor: That conscience of yours would cut my
throat.

WILLIAM PENN. 91
Bushel: No, my lord, it never shall.
Lord Mayor : But I will cut yours as soon as I can.
Recorder: (inclined to be merry): He has inspired the
jury : he has the spirit of divination : methinks he begins to
affect me. — I will have a positive verdict, or else you shall
starve. Penn : I desire to ask the Recorder a question. Do you
allow the verdict given of William Mead ?
Recorder : It cannot be a verdict, because you are indicted
for conspiracy — and one being found " Not Guilty" and not
the other, it is no verdict.
Penn : If " Not Guilty" be no verdict, then you make of
the jury and of the Great Charter a mere nose of wax.
Mead: How! Is "Not Guilty" no verdict?
Recorder : No, it is no verdict.
Penn : I affirm that the consent of a jury is a verdict in
law ; and if William Mead be not guilty, it follows that I am
clear, since you have indicted us for conspiracy, and I could
not possibly conspire alone.
The bench found it convenient not to notice this way of
viewing the case. Another scene of confusion followed —
threats on the part ofthe magistrates — met by unflinching firm
ness from the jurors. Again they were sent to their room : again
they returned with the same verdict of " Guilty of speaking
in Gracechurch Street." It was clear they could do no more
according to the evidence which had been laid before them.
When the Foreman announced the result of their third ex
amination, the legal conductor of the trial roared out :
Recorder : What is this to the purpose ? I say, I will have
a verdict. (And then sdbwling fiercely at Edward Bushel,
cried,) You are a factious fellow. I will set a mark on you :
and whilst I have any thing to do with the city, I will have an
eye upon you.
Lord Mayor (to the other jurors) : Have you no more wit
than to be led by such a pitiful fellow ? I will cut his noise.
(Slitting noses was a common punishment for offenders in
those days.)1
Penn: It is intolerable that my jury should be thus
menaced. Is this according to the fundamental laws ? Are
1 The young bloods of the courts were especially fond of this pastime.
Coventry, a leading member of Parliament, was set upon in the Haymarket,
and his nose slit by Monmouth and his partisans. Marvell, i. 413.

92 WILLIAM PENN.
they not my proper judges by the Great Charter of England ?
What hope is there of ever having justice done when juries
are threatened and their verdicts rejected? Has not the
Lieutenant of the Tower made one of us out worse than a
felon ?
Recorder : My lord, you must take a course with that
fellow ?
Lord Mayor : Stop his mouth. Gaoler, bring fetters, and
stake him to the ground.
Penn : Do your will : I care not for your fetters. (Well
said, Penn.)
Recorder (suddenly enlightened) : Till now I never under
stood the reason of the policy and prudence of the Spaniards
in suffering the Inquisition among them : and certainly it will
never be well with us till something like the Inquisition be
brought into England.1
Here was a doctrine to be preached in an open court and
by a minister of justice ! The incident is worth a thousand
other facts for letting in light upon the spirit which ruled in
high places under the restored Stuarts. Penn had some
family knowledge of the Spanish Inquisition, as will be seen
in the sequel :2 and the avowed hope of the London Recorder
that a similar institution would soon be imported into England
armed him with a weapon of which he knew how to make
good use in his subsequent appeals to the popular mind.3 —
The bench now told the jury they must retire until they could
agree upon a verdict of guilty. They refused to retire again.
They had consulted three several times ; they had agreed to
a verdict and signed it ; they could give no other.
Recorder ; Gentlemen, we shall not always be at this pass
with you. You will find that next Session of Parliament
there will be a law made that such as will not conform shall
not have the protection of law. Mr. Lee (addressing a law
officer of the court), draw up another verdict that they may
bring it in special.
Lee : I cannot tell how to do it.
A Juror : We ought not to be returned, having all agreed
and set our hands to the verdict.
Recorder : Your verdict is nothing. You play upon the
1 The People's Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, fol. i. 17.
2 See Chap. xii. 3 Truth Rescued from Imposture, fol. i. 495.

WILLIAM PENN. 93
court. I say you shall go and bring in another verdict or
you shall starve ; and I will have you carted about the city as
in Edward the Third's time.
Foreman (famishing with his thirty hours fast) : We have
given in our verdict, in which we are all agreed : if we give
in another, it will be by force, to save our lives.
Lord Mayor : Take them up to their room.
Officer : My lord, they will not go.
The bench commanded the Sheriff to use force to compel
them to retire.
Thus coerced they obeyed, and were again locked up for
the night ; without food, without fire, without water, — to en
dure the agony of another night of raging fever brought on
by thirst and want of rest. They spent the night in consulta
tion. Some wavered and wandered in their thoughts ; — what
marvel ! Some would give way ; any thing was better than
the torture of such a situation. But the men who fought for
freedom of conscience — for the rights of jurors — supported
from within by the strong sense of martyrdom, held on
without a murmur. They were prepared to die if need were,
but not to play traitors to their civil freedom and their own
convictions. Next day the court sat again. It was Monday morning,
and the proceedings began soon after sun-rise. Yet the room
was crowded.1 The prisoners being placed at the bar, the
jury were sent for. The men appeared pale and haggard,
but still firm and resolute. All the forms of legal procedure
were gone through in succession ; while the excited spectators
tried to read in the faces of the jury the nature of their de
cision :
Crier : Silence in the court, on pain of imprisonment !2
Clerk : Gentlemen, are you agreed in your verdict ?
Jury: Yes.
Clerk : Who shall speak for you ?
Jury: Our foreman.
Clerk : Look upon the prisoners. What say you, is William
Penn guilty of the matter whereof he stands indicted in
manner and form, or not guilty ?
Foreman : You have our verdict in writing.
1 Penn to his father, Sept. 5, 1670. Phil. Friend, vii. 59.
2 Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, i. 17.

94 WILLIAM PENN.
Clerk : I will read it —
Recorder : No. It is no verdict. The court will not accept
it. Foreman : If you will not accept of it, I desire to have it
back again.
Court : The paper was no verdict, and no advantage shall
be taken of you for it.
Clerk : How say you : is William Penn guilty or not guilty ?
' Foreman: Not guilty. (Great movement and emotion
among the audience.)1
Clerk : Then hearken to your verdict. (Reads) You say
William Penn is not guilty and you say William Mead is not
guilty. Say you so ?
Jury : We do.2
The dissatisfied court would not be content with this
answer. Each man must speak for himself. The names
were called over one by one in the hope that some man more
timid than the rest would side with the prosecution. In vain :
each juror answered to the call, and distinctly and without
qualification pronounced — not guilty.
Recorder : I am sorry, gentlemen, you have followed your
own judgments and opinions rather than the good advice
which was given you. God keep my life out of your hands ?
But for this the court fines you forty marks a man, and im
prisonment in Newgate till the fines be paid.3
Penn: Being freed by the jury, I demand to be set at
liberty.4 , Lord Mayor : No. You are in for your fines.
Penn : Fines ! What fines ?
Lord Mayor : For contempt of court.
Penn : I ask if it be according to the fundamental laws of
England that any Englishman should be fined except by the
judgment of his peers ? Since it expressly contradicts the 14th
and 29th chapters of the Great Charter of England, which
says, No free man ought to be amerced except by the oath of
good and lawful men of the vicinage.
Recorder (with a severe and simple logic) : Take him away ;
put him out of the court.
1 Penn to his father, Sept. 5. ^
2 Ancient and Just Liberties asserted, i. 18.
3 Penn to his father, Sept. 5. Philadelphia Friend, vii. 59.
4 Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, i. 18.

WILLIAM PENN. 95
Penn: I- can never urge the fundamental laws of England,
but you cry out, " Take him away, take him away :" but this
is no wonder, since the Spanish Inquisition sits so near the
Recorder's heart. God, who is just, will judge you all for
these things.1
Prisoner and jurors alike refused to pay the fines — the first
as a matter of conscience, the second, because, under the in
fluence of Edward Bushel, they were induced to dispute the
power of the court to inflict a fine for such a contempt as the
one they stood charged with — and were all removed to New
gate.2 Penn wrote to his father daily ; his letters breathe
the most affectionate and devoted spirit. He much deplores
the admiral's illness, and his own compelled absence from his
bed-side ; but he feels that the cause of freedom is at stake,
that he is detained notoriously contrary to law, and he be
seeches his family not to think of paying his fine in order to
his being set at liberty.3 — However anxious to be near his
father at such a time, he would do nothing- unworthy in order
to gratify his filial love : he would trust in God and the just
ness of his cause.4
Up to this period the usage of the courts with regard to
verdicts had never been reduced to a legal and positive form :
from the days of the Tudors it had been the occasional prac
tice of the bench to inflict fines on contumacious and incon
venient juries ; for centuries it had remained an unsettled
question of law whether the jury had, or had not, a right so
far to exercise its own discretion as to bring in a verdict con
trary to the sense of the court. This great power was now
to be decided. Bushel and his fellow-jurors, at Penn's sug
gestion, brought an action against Sir Samuel Starling and
Sir John Howell, the Lord Mayor and the Recorder of Lon
don, for unjust imprisonment.5 On the fifth of September
they were committed to Newgate ; counsel was engaged, and
application was immediately made to the court of Common
Pleas, but it was not until the ninth of November that a
writ of Habeas Corpus was issued to the Governor of the
gaol to bring up the person of Edward Bushel.6 Newdegate^
1 Ancient and Just Liberties Asserted, i. 18.
2 Freeman's Reports of Cases in Law and Equity, from 1670 to 1706,
folio, p. 2.
3 Penn to his father, Sept. 6, 1670. Philadelphia Friend, vii, 59.
4 Ibid. Sept. 7. 6 Ibid. Sept. 5. 6 Vaughan's Reports, fol. p. 135.

96 WILLIAM PENN.
Size, Waller, and Broome appeared as counsel for the priso
ners ; Leroy and Maynard for the king — that is, for Starling
and Howell, the king's justices. Freeman has preserved the
heads of this famous appeal.1 The defence was taken on the
ground that the jury had brought in a verdict contrary to the
laws of England, to manifest evidence, and to the direction of
the court. Newdegate urged against this defence, — that, so
far as the laws of England were concerned, the defence was
bad — inasmuch as the question of law cannot occur until the
facts are proved ; here the facts were not proved to the satis
faction of the men who were called upon by the constitution
to investigate them ; consequently, the laws not being invoked,
they could not be violated. The second point of the defence
Broome met by showing that it is the special function of the
jury to judge of the value of the evidence submitted to it,
and that in the eye of the law that body is presumed to be a
more competent judge of whether evidence is good or bad
than the court. This argument also met the last point of the
defence ; the bench might be deceived in its opinion — the jury
being agreed amongst themselves, are presumed to be infalh
ble. The bench, therefore, though at liberty to offer sugges
tions to the jurymen for their consideration, may not lawfully
coerce them ; or, as Newdegate expressed it, the judges may
try " to open the eyes of the jurors, but not to lead them by
the nose."
The court of Common Pleas adopted these views. Sir John
Vaughan summed up the argument on both sides, and gave
a learned exposition of the question as a piece of historical
law, ending with a verdict for Edward Bushel on behalf of
himself and his fellow-prisoners.2 They were consequently
ordered to be set at liberty in open court. Ten of the other
eleven judges agreed in the verdict given by Sir John Vaugh-
han — Chief Baron Turner, merely abstained from giving an
opinion on the point, as he had not been present in the court
to hear the arguments of counsel.3 The verdict may therefore
be considered as the unanimous expression of the twelve Judges.
The reason appended to the judgment is curious — " because
the jury may know that of their own knowledge which may
guide them to give their verdict contrary to the sense of the
1 Freeman's Reports, fol. p. 3. 2 Vaughan's Reports, fol. p. 158.
3 Vaughan's Reports, fol. p. 142, marginal note.

WILLIAM PENN. 97
court."1 An obvious interpretation of these words would be,
that the judges considered it possible the jurors might have
private information, not laid before the court, to assist them
in forming a correct judgment ; but this supposition is not
tenable for a moment.2 The other sense in which the " rea
son" may be understood, is that suggested by Broome — the
implied superiority of the juror as a judge of what is good in
evidence and what is not good.3
Be this as it may, the result was clear. The course adopted
by the Lord Mayor and Recorder was condemned by the
highest legal tribunal in the land. Bushel and his fellows
left Newgate as conquerors.4
The importance of this extraordinary trial can hardly be
over estimated, either as a piece of history shedding light on
the opinions held in high places in the age immediately suc
ceeding a time in which, even by the confession of men other
wise adverse to it, justice had been incorruptibly administered ;
or as a stand taken once for all upon the ancient liberties of
England against the encroachments of an apostate king and
a licentious court. It established a truth which William Penn
never ceased to inculcate — that unjust laws are powerless
weapons when used against an upright people. It proved
that in England at least the ruling power of the moment,
even when agreed in all its branches, is not omnipotent ; that
there still remained, and ever must remain, a grand check to
unjust government in the public conscience. What is the use
of a severe law, if the nation repudiates it — if juries refuse
to convict under it ? It becomes at once a dead letter, a
thing which nobody will own, a statute really at large. We
at the present day can more distinctly realize the service ren
dered to posterity — to liberty, by the noble defence offered at
these trials, than could contemporaries. We have seen the
results of the stand then made — results which there is good
1 Freeman's Reports, folio, p. 5.
2 This interpretation of the terms woul dimply a confusion in the mind of
the bench of the old functions of a jury — formerly a body of witnesses — and
those of more modern date.
3 Clarkson was ignorant of the appeal of Bushel to the Court of Common
Pleas. He was consequently unable to perceive the historical bearing of
the whole trial. "As to the poor jurymen," he writes, "I can nowhere
learn what became of them, or how long they were allowed to languish in
their prison." Vol. i. p. 82.
4 The material points of this famous trial are collected by Howell. State
Trials, vi. 999. 9

98 WILLIAM PENN.
reason to believe Penn for one foresaw. It may be said with
out exaggeration that these trials gave a new meaning — in
fused a new life, into the institution of the jury. The result
proved there was a power in the state superior to the parlia
ment in its palace at Westminster and the King in his palace
at Whitehall combined — that sense of justice which informs
the brain and nerves the heart of the English people. Driven
from the court, the legislative assembly, and the bench of
justice, the spirit of Puritan Democracy found an impregnable
citadel in the jury-room. In the day of courtesan influence,
of unblushing venality and vice, the most odious laws might
obtain the sanction of a parliamentary majority : judges even
might be found to administer them : but, after all, it was now
discovered with alarm and indignation, that juries chosen
from the^body of the nation might refuse to convict under them,
and so in reality annul them at the very moment they were
brought into action. From that day the jury ceased to be a
mere institution — it became a living power in the state ; a
power not inferior to either King or Commons. One of the
most sacred relics of the Saxon Democracy, it suddenly re
acquired its ancient importance : an importance which it has
ever since maintained.
By bringing the two prisoners in not guilty, Edward Bushel
and his compeers pronounced sentence upon the Conventicle
Act itself — for, according to the letter of that - law, Penn
confessed that he was guilty. The verdict in the Court of
Common Pleas legalized the right which they had assumed ;
had other juries throughout the kingdom at once followed
their example, some of the crudest pages of our history had
never been written — the spirit which induced persecution for
conscience' sake had never again raised its head in England.
Some few others, encouraged by the example, did so ; but
many did not — either alarmed by the threats of starvation,
or actuated by suggestions from the genius of sectarian intol
erance. Still, the germ was planted ; the principle that the
jury could reject the unjust law by a refusal to convict had
been asserted in the jury-room — asserted in a case which
claimed the sympathies of every liberal mind — and the right
had been gravely admitted by the whole bench of judges.
William Penn and William Mead, though they refused as a
matter of conscience to pay the fines which had been imposed
upon them for contempt of court, did not long remain in New-

WILLIAM PENN. 99
gate. A day or two after their removal thither, the turnkey
came to them with the intelligence that some unknown friend
had paid their fines — and they were at liberty to depart.1 The
acquitted prisoner soon afterwards published an account of the
trial, under the title — " The People's Ancient and Just Liber
ties Asserted." In an appendix to this work he gave a brief
statement of the points which would have been urged against
the indictment, had the course of proceedings adopted by the
court not led to the higher constitutional issue : and in a second
appendix he rehearsed the more material points. of the Great
Charter and of its confirmation by Edward I., with some other
matters closely connected in interest with the main subject.
Ever appealing to the old charters !2
Here we again observe William Penn enlarging the con
tracted sphere of his sect. The ordinary Quaker, in the sim
plicity of his heart, would have defied the unjust law, and
suffered like a martyr — satisfied with an appeal to conscience.
Penn joined a larger amount of that worldly wisdom, which,
like the rest, he fancied he despised, to his more ardent zeal.
He knew his country, and his country's history. His legal
studies at Lincoln's Inn had not been thrown into a barren
soil. The circle of his mind was large, and he never sunk
the Englishman in the sectarian. He was anxious about civil
as well as religious liberty. Wisely therefore he took his stand
on the old charters, and made his appeal to the public in their
own cause.
Admiral Sir William Penn, though still young in years,
was now lying on his death-bed. His career had been one to
try the hardiest frame ; his youth had passed amidst the hard
ships which serve to develope intellect at an early age, but
which also plant in the constitution the seeds of premature
decay. During the whole of this year (1670) ill health had
kept him confined to his country house in Essex ; the excite
ment caused by his son's arrest, imprisonment, and trial, had
made him materially worse ; and when William hastened home
to Wanstead from Newgate he was alarmed to find that, in
the opinion of his medical attendants, he had only a few days
to live.3
It is interesting to stand by the bed-side of this able, worldly,
1 Two years before this Sir William had openly advised the King to put an
end to the Conventicle Act. Pepys, May 3, 1668.
2 Collected Works, i. 19-35. 3 Granville Penn. Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 560.

100 WILLIAM PENN.
and aspiring man — dying at forty-nine — full of rewards and
honors, yet far below the higher reaches of his ambition. He
had hoped to die a peer ; to leave behind him a noble line.
He felt that he had deserved this great reward at the hands
of his sovereign. His sovereign had offered it ; but the son
to whom it must have descended in the course of nature firmly
rejected the proffered honor.1 Two years before he had sent
forth his voice from a dungeon in the Tower to denounce all
such appendages as grace, lordship, highness, majesty. .. He
had not only refused to receive, but even to acknowledge
earthly titles.2 This had been a severe blow to the father ;
and while he remained in health and in office near the King's
person, it is doubtful whether he ever entirely forgave him ;
but seclusion from the world and the wiser thoughts which a
contemplation of his latter end brought with it, seemed to
have at length reconciled him to the loss of worldly rank.
"Son William," said the veteran only a day or two before his
death, "lam weary of the world : I would not live my days
over again, if I could command them with a wish ; for the
snares of life are greater than the fears of death."3 The ad
miral had apparently ceased to think of his own great disap
pointment; but he retained his patriotic ardor to the last.
He bewailed the corruption of the age, the profligacy in high
places, the daily traffic in justice, the contempt into which the
court had fallen, the rottenness of the nation at home, the
decline of its influence abroad. He gave his children three
maxims as a legacy : " First — Let nothing in this world tempt
you to wrong your conscience ; so you will keep peace at home,
which will be a feast to you in the day of trouble. Secondly
— Whatever you design to do, lay it justly and time it season
ably, for that gives security and dispatch. Lastly — Be not
troubled at disappointments ; for if they may be recovered,
do it ; if they cannot, trouble is vain : if you could not have
helped it, be content ; there is often peace and profit in sub
mitting to Providence, for afflictions make wise : if you could
1 This is distinctly stated in one of Penn's letters to an old Quaker friend,
who had censured him unjustly. " It is more than a worldly title or patent that
hath clothed me in this place [Pennsylvania]  Nor am I sitting
down in a greatness which I have denied. . . . Had I sought greatness,
I had stayed at home, where the difference between what I am here, and was
offered, and could have been there in power and wealth, is as wide as the places
are." 2 No Cross, no Crown, i. 321, folio ed. 3 Ibid. i. 433, fol. ed.

WILLIAM PENN. 101
have helped it, let not your trouble exceed your instruction
for another time. These rules," said the admiral, " will
carry you with firmness and comfort through this inconstant
world."1 The dying man had now risen into that region which is above
the fear or favor of the world. His frame of mind was calm,
confiding, and religious. He talked a good deal with his son :
and in the end came not only to forgive but to applaud his
erratic course. " Son William," — these were almost the last
words he uttered, — " if you and your friends keep to your
plain way of preaching, and also keep to your plain way of
living, you will make an end of priests to the end ofthe world."
For himself, however, he died, as he had lived, a member of
the Church of England. He simply added — " Bury me near
my mother : live all in love. Shun all manner of evil. . . .
I pray to God to bless you all ; and He will bless you."2
He died on the 16th of September, eleven days after the
trial, and was buried in the parish church of Redclyffe, in the
town of Bristol, where his monument may still be seen. With a
life interest in his estate reserved to Lady Penn, — his daughter
Margaret married,3 — he left the whole of his property, plate,
household furniture, money owing to him by the government,
lands in England and in Ireland, his gold chain and medal,
and the sole executorship of his last will and testament to his
Quaker son.4 Altogether, this property was of very consi
derable amount. Besides the claims on the state for money
lent to it and for arrears of salary— not much under 15,000iL
— the estates brought their owner, -on the average, about
1,500Z. a, year : a large fortune in those times.5
Fearing, not without good cause, from what had already
1 No Cross, no Crown. Collected Works, i. 432, 3. 2 Ibid.
3 She married Antony Lowther of Maske, who served in Parliament for
Appleby, in the sessions of 1678-9. Their son, William, was made a baronet
in 1697. He married the heiress of Holker, and his son married into the
Devonshire family.
4 Granville Penn. Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 565-7.
5 Admiral Penn died tolerably well off ; but not so wealthy as his enemies
gave out in order to make him unpopular. A curious instance of this system
of indirect scandal is recorded by Pepys. "April 20, 1668. Meeting Sir
William Hooker, the alderman, he did cry out mighty high against Sir William
Penn, for getting such an estate, and giving 15,0002. with his daughter, which
is more by half than he ever did give ; but this the world believes, and so let
them."

102 WILLIAM PENN.
happened, that, unless held up and supported by powerful
friends, his son's life would be a continual act of martyrdom,
Sir William had sent from his death-bed to both the King and
the Duke of York to solicit at their hands those kind offices
towards his son which they had been ever ready to extend to
himself. The royal brothers returned the most flattering
answers to this request; and James more especially under
took the office of guardian and protector to the young man —
an office which he honorably and faithfully discharged.1 This
was the simple and natural origin of that connection between
the Quaker subject and the Catholic prince which afterwards
created so much scandal. As Penn many years after his
father's death told the delegates of Magdalen College, the
questions which had made him so intimate with the prince
were such as affected his property, not his religion.2

CHAPTER IV.
1670-1673.
GULI. SPRINGETT.
Gulielma Maria, daughter of Sir William Springett, of
Darling, in Sussex, one of the leaders of the Parliamentary
forces during the first years of the civil war, was residing with
her mother at the rustic village of Chalfont, in Buckingham
shire, when her future husband first saw her. She was the
delight of a small but distinguished circle, including no less a
person than John Milton, Thomas Ellwood, his friend and
pupil, and the famous Isaac Pennington.3 To Pennington,
Guli's father-in-law, Ellwood had owed his introduction to his
great Master, of whose urbane and gentle manners he has left
so touching an account ;4 and when the ravages of the plague
made it necessary for the noble bard to quit his house in
London for a time, he naturally went down to Chalfont with
1 Penn to Popple, Oct. 24, 1688. 2 Wilmot's Life of Hough, 25.
3 Lady Springett's Autobiography, MS. Ellwood's Memoirs, 233.
4 Ellwood's Memoirs, 181. Milton lived at that time in Jewin street, in
London. The young Quaker always speaks of him as "my master." Me
moirs, 202.

WILLIAM PENN. 103
his pupil, knowing that friends were to be found there who
shared his opinions and revered his genius.1 Rarely is a
small and unpretending village honored with such a company
as Chalfont boasted in those days of mourning. The Pen-
ningtons occupied the Grange, which they had rebuilt and
beautified ; Milton lived in a neat little cottage at a short dis
tance ; and Ellwood had a house about midway between the
residences of his friends, at one or other of which he spent
nearly the whole of his time.2 Guli. Springett he had known
from childhood ; he had been one of her little playfellows in
the hop-gardens of Kent, in which county her property lay
and his family resided ; and as he had grown up to manhood
had become deeply sensible of the charms of the young beauty
with whom he lived on such perilous terms of familiarity.
How far he was in mortal love with her he dared not ask
himself, much less avow to her, lest he -might break the spell .
which had bound them together from their common child
hood.3 To be near her, to hear her laugh, to watch her form
expand, her soft and lovely features day by day ripen like a
peach into more delicate perfection, — this made him happy ;
while from his confessions it is clear that in his secret soul he
always felt that she was above his reach, and never could be
come his wife.4 It is not easy to decide which of the attrac
tions of Chalfont — his master or his mistress — was the greater
for Ellwood. To Milton he was devotedly attached ; and
though his love for Miss Springett was true and earnest, it
was not so violent as to be beyond control. Guli, who was
sought after and flattered by men of all classes, peers and
commoners, courtiers and puritans,5 cannot but have been
aware of her power over her old playfellow ; she cannot fail
to have felt flattered by his silent and modest homage, so un
like the warmer forms of courtship common in that polite and
1 Ellwood's Memoirs, 223. 2 Lady Springett's Autobiography.
3 Thomas Ellwood was much loved and trusted by the Penningtons. I
find frequent and affectionate mention of him in Lady Springett's Auto
biography. 4 Ellwood's Memoirs, 210 The history of unsuccessful love has hardly
any thing more charming than some of the Quaker's confessions. It was
possibly the example of Guli, that moved his spirit to adopt the gospel of
George Fox : his account of his first visit to the Penningtons after they had
turned Quakers, is quite amusing — when he finds his old playfellow suddenly
grown demure, and that although the dinner is good, there is no fun pver it.
Memoirs, 15.
5 Penn Gaskell MSS.

104 WILLIAM PENN.
dissipated age ; but as he never gave offence by obtruding
his passion on her thoughts, so she mildly and graciously re
ceived and reciprocated his attentions, and contracted for him
a friendship which lasted without a day of coldness on either
side until her death.1
Guli was fond of music. Music was Milton's second pas
sion. In the cottage of the poet, in the Grange of the phi
losopher, how one can fancy the hours flying past, between
psalms of love, high converse from the lips of the inspired
bard, old stories of the Revolution, in which the elder people
had each had a prominent" share, and perhaps the recitation
of favorite passages from that stupendous work which was to
crown the blind and aged poet, and become one of the
grandest heir-looms of mankind ! It was to these favored
friends that Milton first made known that he had been en
gaged in writing "Paradise Lost;" and it was also in their
society that Ellwood suggested to him the theme of his "Para
dise Regained."2 Immortal Chalfont !
When Penn went down to Chalfont to see his friend Pen
nington, he was at once struck with the charms of the fair
Guli. He saw, loved, and prospered in his love. All other
suitors were forgotten : and the heart of Miss Springett, with
the consent of her mother and her protector, passed out of
her own keeping forever. The personal appearance, the so
cial position, the character of the suitor, were all more or
less in his favor ; but the circumstances of the time, and the
recollections of the past, were not without their influence on
his love. To understand these influences, it is requisite to
look back upon the romantic story of Guli's parents.
The father of Sir William Springett died in the third year
of his marriage, leaving a widow and three infant children —
one of them unborn — to inherit a good name and a moderate
fortune.3 His widow devoted herself to the education of her
children, and they grew up to be an honor to her and useful
to their native land. She was herself a character ; the gen-
1 Ellwood's Memoirs, 336.
2 Ibid. 234. In his new poem Milton clothed the dogma of these friends
in the language of poetry ; — He who receives
Light from above, the fountain of all light,
No other doctrine needs. Paradise Regained.
3 Lady Springett's MS. Autobiography, to which I am indebted for most
of the following particulars.

WILLIAM PENN. 105
tleness of her manners and the largeness of her heart made
her warmly beloved by all who had the happiness to know
her, while her charity was such that at her death the poor
lost one of the best friends they had ever known. " To her
son William," says Lady Springett, in the memoir already
quoted, "she was a most tender and affectionate mother, ahd
always showed great kindness towards me ; indeed she was
very honorable in counselling her son not to marry for an
estate, and put by great offers of persons with thousands,
urging him to consider what would make him happy in a
choice." Mary Proud,1 the future memoir writer — a daughter
of Sir John Proud, a colonel in the service of the Dutch Re
public2 — was then living in the same house with the Sprin-
getts ; and being a young woman of great beauty and spirit,
of nearly the same age as William, and of his own station in
society, both mother and son not unnaturally cast their eyes
on their fair ward. Lady Springett, writing more than forty
years after these events, in describing them to her grandson,
William Penn's eldest son, says, — " She proposed my mar
riage to him, because we were bred together from children, I
being nine, he twelve years old when we first came to live
together. She would discourse with him in this wise : — that
she knew me, and we were known to one another ; she said
she should choose me for his wife before any one with a great
portion even if I had no portion, because of these things and
of our equality in outward conditions and years. She lived
to see thy mother (Guli) three or four years old, and was very
affectionate to her and took great delight in her wisdom."
William, her lover, was highly educated, having earned dis
tinction at Cambridge, whither he was sent "as being ac
counted more sober than Oxford," but tried in vain to bring
down his mind to legal studies, and after residing for a short
period in one of the inns of court, mixing with the gay world
of London, enjoying the sunshine of royal favor and receiv
ing the honors of knighthood,3 he retired in Kent, married
Miss Proud, became a zealous Puritan, and set aside the old
forms of the Church, being the "first of quality in those
parts who had refused these things," and of course causing a
sensation in the country for many miles round.4
1 Lady Springett's Autobiography. 2 Penn Gaskell's MSS.
3 Pedigree in the College of Arms, copied in the Penn Gaskell MSS.
1 Lady Springett's Autobiography.

106 WILLIAM PENN.
This was in 1642. Things coming to a crisis between King
and Parliament, Springett joined the Puritan party, and with
out beat of drum, as his wife tells us, raised eight hundred
men to fight for the good cause. He was made colonel of the
regiment which he had raised, and commanded, at the battle
of Edgehill, one of the infantry corps which gained so much
renown on that day. Afterwards he was made Deputy Lieu
tenant of Kent, in which employment he exhibited a wisdom
and courage quite astonishing in a boy of one-and-twenty.
He repressed disorders with a strong hand ; encouraged the
timid and rebuked the carnal minded ; raised the spirits of
his friends when doubts occurred to them, telling them "it
was the cause of God, and they must trust God in it, doing
what in them lay to act according to their covenant, and op
pose with their lives Popery and Popish innovations." But
it was no easy thing to maintain peace at such a time among
the sturdy men of Kent. Hardly had his regiment of raw
recruits stationed themselves at Maidstone, when a rising of
several thousands took place in the Vale of Kent ; and to
add to the young commander's troubles, his scouts brought
him word that Prince Rupert, with a large body of cavalry,
was on his march to join the rebels. "Having placed his
men in such order as their youth and the time would permit,"
says Lady Springett, "he came to me (who had then lain in
about a month) to take his leave, before they encountered the
enemy ; but when he came, he found me in danger of being
put out of the house in case the enemy proceeded so far. It
was a great surprise to him to find me in that danger, and it
put him upon great difficulties to provide for my security and
to return to his regiment at the time appointed ; but he being
of a diligent mind and of a quick capacity, found out a course
that did effect it, which was this : — He fetched a stage-coach
from Rochester, and in the night carried me and my child, to
whom I gave suck, and my maid-servant to Gravesend, where
he hired a barge for me to go to London, and took a solemn
leave as not expecting to see us again, and so posted back to
his regiment." In the active service upon which he now en
tered, the young colonel behaved with equal gallantry and
prudence. At the taking of Lord Craven's house in Surrey,
he led the forlorn hope at the head of a select body of his
troop, all of them the sons of men of substance ; at Newbury
he was struck by a ball, but happily its force was spent and

WILLIAM PENN. 107
it did him no injury ; he carefully prevented his soldiers from
doing acts of pillage or otherwise exasperating the peasantry.
The toil and hardship of his position he bore with the con
tempt of one inured to war and its privations. He often had
to sleep in the open field ; in consequence of the want of salt,
no one dare to touch flesh meat, and, like the rest of his com
panions, he had frequently to dine and fight on a biscuit and
a piece of candied lemon.1
His last service was at the siege of Arundel Castle, where
he gained new laurels but lost his life. On the fall of the
stronghold, Sir William and Colonel Morley were invested
with the command ; but while preparing to assume the new
duties of his office he was suddenly struck with the sun-fever,
from long exposure, though it was then the depth of winter ;
and so convinced was he from the first that the attack would
prove fatal, that he wrote off to his wife, then near her con
finement of Guli, to come down to him, if it were possible, at
all risks. This was not an easy matter to the agitated wife.
Snow was lying thick on the ground ; and a keen frost had
hardened it along the roads, so as almost to render them
impassible. The artificial dams had likewise been removed
at Newington and other places near the capital, and the roads
in many parts were so far under water, that people passed
along in boats instead of wagons, the horses had to be led
with strings instead of with the bridle, and coaches to be
floated along the high-ways, at considerable risk to horses
and men. Besides these impediments, the country was in
fested with armed bands, ready to plunder any defenceless
equipage. These perils so alarmed the owners of coaches in
London, that the spirited lady was some time before she could
hire any conveyance ; at length a widow woman who had re
ceived many benefits from Sir William, moved by the distress
of his wife, let her have her coach and servants, even though
they might be lost by the adventure.
The interview with the dying soldier can only be related in
the words of his young wife, written long afterwards for the
perusal of his grandson, Springett Penn: "It was about
twelve at night when we arrived, and as soon as I had put
my foot in the Hall, there being a pair of stairs leading from
1 The whole of these details are derived from Lady Springett's Autobio
graphy, MS.

108 WILLIAM PENN.
it into his chamber, I heard him cry out — Why will you lie
to me ? If she be come, let me hear her voice I which struck
me so I had hardly power to get up stairs ; but being borne
up by two of those present, he seeing me, the fever having
v took his head, in a manner sprung up, as if he would come
out of his bed, saying — Let me embrace thee before I die. I
found most of his officers about his bed  The purple
spots having come out the day before, were now struck in,
and as the fever had begun to touch his brain, they caused
him to keep his bed, which he had not been persuaded to do
until then. When they saw his dangerous condition (so many
Kentish men, both commanders and others, having died of it
near his quarters in a few weeks), they constrained him to
keep his chamber ; but such was the activeness of his spirit
and the stoutness of his heart, he could not yield to this ill
that had come upon him, but covenanted with them that he
would shoot birds with his cross-bow out of the window. . . .
After the spots went in the fever became so violent they were
forced to sit round the bed to keep him in ; but he spake no
evil, or raving words at all, but seriously about his dying, and
said to the doctor — What you do, do quickly, for if this doth
not do, nothing will help me. He spake most affectionately
to me, and very wittingly to his officers about keeping their
prisoners, making up the breach, and keeping the watch. . . .
His breath was so scorching as to chap his lips ; but he find
ing that my mouth was cool, would hardly permit me to take
it off to breathe, but would cry out — Oh! don't leave me I
which the doctor and my own maid and the attendants were
very much troubled at, looking upon the infection to be so
high that it endangered myself and child by taking his breath
into me. I being also near my time, found it a very uneasy
posture to be in for two hours at times, if not more, bending
over him to cool his lips. The physic which was ordered
being applied to him, he observed the manner of its operation
to be a signification of death, and called out to the doctor —
This will not do ; I am a dead man! From the like sign, the
doctor had concluded upon the same, but he said nothing. He
called on me again and again to lay my lips to his, which I
did for a considerable time, and then he would lie very quiet
while I was able to bear this posture, and in this stillness he
fell asleep, which they that were by observing, constrained
me to go to bed, considering my condition, and leave my maid-

WILLIAM PENN. 109
servant with him, who might bring me an account if it were
needed : I was prevailed with and went to bed. When he
awoke he seemed much refreshed, and took great notice of
the maid : You are my wife's maid, he said ; where is my
wife ? How does my boy? She came up and gave me this
account, upon which I would have risen and come down to
him, but she persuaded me not, saying he would go to sleep
again and I should but hinder it. So I sent a message down
to him by her, and went to rest again, not thinking but that
there was a probability, from the description she made, of his
recovery : — so I lay late. In the morning when I came down,
I saw a great change upon him, and sadness upon all faces
about him, which thing stunned me : I having let in hope as
before. He spake affectionately to me. ... At last he called
me to him, saying — Come, my dear ! let me kiss thee before 1
die, which he did with that heartiness which expresses tender
regard. Come, once more let me kiss thee, and take my leave
of thee, said he again, which he did in the same manner as
before ; and then added — Now, no more ! no more ! never, no
more ! which done, he fell into a very great agony. He hav
ing had but about seven day's illness of this violent contagious
fever — which had not so much impaired his strength as in
flamed his blood and heightened his spirits — and being a
young man, in his agony he snapt his arms and legs with that
force, that the veins seemed to sound like snapping of strings
on a musical instrument. Oh ! this was a dreadful sight to
me. My very heart-strings seemed to break. The doctor
and my husband's cha.plain, and some of the chief officers
that were by, seeing that the bed was likely to fall to pieces
under him, and noticing that this befell him from taking leave
of me, considered together what to do, and concluded they
must either persuade me to leave the bed-side or remove me
by force ; upon which they came and desired me to go to the
fire, as while I stood there he could not die — which word was
so great that, like an amazed creature, I stamped with my
foot and cried — Die ! die ! must he die ? I cannot go from
him ! At which two of them gently lifted me in their arms
and carried me to the fire-place, which was a pretty distance
from the bed, and there they held me from coming to him
again. This time I did not weep, but stood silent and struck.
Soon after I was brought from the bed, he became very still;
and when they thought his sight was gone they let me go.
10

110 WILLIAM PENN.
Standing at his side, I saw the most amiable, pleasant coun
tenance that ever I beheld, smiling like a young child when
(as the saying is) they see angels. ... He lay about an hour
in this state ; and towards sunset turned quickly about and
called upon a kinsman of his — Antony ! come, quick ! At
which very instant we heard him riding into the court-yard,
being come many miles to see him. Soon after this he died.
. . . When he was dead, I could weep. As soon as the breath
was gone out of his body, they took me up into a chamber,
and would allow me to see him no more." x
A few weeks after this melancholy event, Guli was born.
Her father's zeal in the good cause had induced him to spend
his money in its behalf as freely as his blood. He had served
without pay, and had kept a mess-table for his officers at his
private expense : so that when he died at three and twenty,
his affairs were not a little out of order, and all the energy
arid prudence of Lady Springett were required to prevent
them from falling into irretrievable ruin. This, however, was
done ; but other cares soon assailed the young widow. Her
husband had fought and died for his religious opinions, and
even before then he had inspired her with all his own re
ligious fervor, which she, with her woman's nature, and in her
lonely condition, soon allowed to overmaster all her other
sentiments, and thoughts. The details which she has left of
the agony of heart, suffered during the first few years of her
widowhood, are full of that solemn striving after a better life
which may be accounted wisdom or madness, according to the
point of view from which it is regarded. The distaste which
she began to feel for the pleasures natural to her age, her
contempt for dancing, frivolous music-meetings, gay parties
in town or country, grew stronger ' every year ; a widow at
twenty, she had prematurely drained the cup of life, and had
got to the lees ere the majority of her sex have begun to taste
its flavor. Her sufferings during these years appears to have
been real and poignant. At length she met with one, like
herself, far out at sea, a wreck in hope, havenless and discon
solate. This was the famous Isaac Pennington. In the
manuscript history of her life- she herself relates the story : —
" My love was drawn to him because I found he saw the de
ceits of all notions, and lay as one that refused to be com-
1 Lady Springett's Autobiography, MS.

WILLIAM PENN. Ill
forted ; so that he was sick and weary of all that appeared,
and in this my heart clove to him, and a desire was in me to
be serviceable to him in his desolate condition, for he was
alone and miserable in the world — and I gave up much to be
a companion to him in this his suffering." Some time after
their marriage they found the comfort they were seeking in
the system preached by George Fox, and of which William
Penn had now become a distinguished champion.1
No wonder then that the graceful and intrepid youth should
be a welcome visitor at Chalfont ; no wonder that the fair
Guli, herself become a Quaker, should smile graciously on her
new suitor. " For having now arrived at a marriageable
age " — says Thomas Ellwood, in his confessions, "and being
in all respects a very desirable woman, — whether regard was
had to her outward person, which wanted nothing to render
her completely comely, or to the endowments of her mind,
which were very extraordinary and highly obliging, or to her
outward fortune, which was fair, — she was openly and se
cretly sought and solicited by many, and some of them of
almost every rank and condition, good and bad, rich and
poor, friend and foe, to whom, in their respective turns, (till
he at length came for whom she was reserved,) she carried
herself with so much evenness of temper, such courteous free
dom, and carried with the strictest modesty, that as it gave
encouragement to none, so neither did it administer any
matter of offence, or any just cause of complaint to any."2
This is magnanimous in a rejected suitor ; but Ellwood had
the consolation, that until Guli was actually married, he en
joyed more of her society than her future husband, for Penn
had work to do in the world, and he was" not the man to
dangle about a woman's skirts.3 Other circumstances favored
his platonic love : — Isaac Pennington was confined for opinion's
sake in Reading gaol.4 Like other members of his sect, he
passed a considerable part of his time in prison.5
1 The whole of this story of her second love is told with great simplicity
and beauty by the fair autobiographer. 2 Ellwood's Memoirs, 210.
3 The account of Ellwood's journey from Chalfont into Kent, in charge of
his ladye love, whom he was escorting to her uncle Herbert's — the encounter
with the dissolute soldiers by the way, and the struggle between his scruples
as a Quaker, and his instincts as a man, when Guli was threatened with
insult, is one of the most interesting passages in his confessions. See page
251 et seq.
4 Pennington's Letters, (12mo, 1828,) Sept. 7, 1670.
6 Ibid. pp. 13, 21, 28, 63, 227, 358, 371.

112 WILLIAM PENN.
After the interment of his father, in which he was long
busied, William Penn occupied himself for a time in prepar
ing the elaborate account of his trial, to which we are in
debted for many of the particulars already given, and in the
regular offices of the ministry which he had assumed. In the
latter capacity he travelled from city to city, from county to
county, preaching the doctrines of George Fox, under the
more elevated aspect in which his own learning enabled him
to present them, disputing publicly and privately with all who
refused to accept the gospel which he came to offer ; and if
the county of Buckingham seems to have been more favored
by his presence and his labors at this period than other places
farther north or south, the reader will admit that the young
preacher had fair reasons for his frequent visits to the neigh
borhood.1 A dispute with Jeremy Ives, at West Wycomb, at
which his friend Ellwood was present, made rather a sensa
tion. A Baptist preacher, as was common in those times,
denounced the Quakers in general, and William Penn in par
ticular, from his pulpit, whereupon a challenge was sent to
publicly discuss their several doctrines. Ives, who could not
refuse the challenge, feared, at the last moment, to confront
his adversary, and sent his brother Jeremy instead. The
controversy was not very decorously conducted. Ives, as the
attacking party, spoke first, and as soon as he had done, he
descended from the platform and quitted the room, hoping
that the audience would follow his example ; but they did not,
all being anxious to hear Penn's defence. Ellwood, who ex
presses his dislike to all such displays, rarely having seen any
good come out of them, says Penn gained a great advantage,
— and at the close of the debate sent off to his anxious friends
at the Grange, a .dispatch in the following words :
Prsevaluit Veritas ; inimica terga dedSre ;
Nos sumus in tuto ; laus tribuenda Deo.
which, for the benefit of Guli, he translated into the worthy
doggrel : Truth hath prevailed ; the enemy did fly;
We are in safety ; praise to God on high.2
While residing at this time in Bucks, the tenets of the Ro
man Church occupied much of Penn's attention ; and now it
1 Besse, 36. 2 Ellwood's Memoirs, 272.

WILLIAM PENN. 113
was, in his twenty-sixth year, and many years previous to the
accession of James, that he first published his thoughts on
the Catholic question. In this " Caveat against Popery" he
attempts to refute what is peculiar in the doctrines of that
Church; but he makes a large distinction between Catholics
and Catholicism, a distinction rarely made either in the laws
or in the public sentiment of that age, and too seldom made
even in our own. While he deno ; need the creed as contrary
to reason and Scripture, to conscience and human liberty, he
pleaded powerfully for toleration to the man. Toleration to
doctrines which he was forced in his conscience to condemn !
Here was a new and startling theory. Few were then prepared
to understand it ; fewer still to admit and act upon it ; but it
was a true theory nevertheless ; slowly but certainly it made
its way ; and hiore than a century and a half after it was pro
mulgated by William Penn, it has been in our dwn time solemnly
ratified in the legislature.1
These writings, in which the young controversialist expressed
his opinions in the strongest language he could find, sparing
neither doctrine nor person where they appeared to him to be
false and weak, brought him a host of enemies. His exposure
of the infamous conduct of the city magistrates on the late
trial, and the condemnation of their mode of dealing out justice
•pronounced in the Court of Common Pleas, was rankling
deeply in their hearts. The admiral being dead, and the
court influence which had formerly been wielded in his behalf
being supposed at an end in consequence of that event, these
magistrates now determined to make him feel the effects of
their anger. Their plot was pretty certain to succeed ; as it
was then a punishable offence to refuse the oath of allegiance
when offered by a magistrate, and as the Quaker could not
take an oath of any kind, it was only necessary to seize his
person and make the offer in order legally to commit. But
then to mask the evil animus, the arrest must be on other
grounds ; so they chose to consider the Quakers' meeting in
Wheeler Street, which he was known to attend, as an illegal
meeting ; though they were determined this time not to trust
to a jury for a verdict on the point. The baseness of their
intention was equalled by the baseness with which they sought
1 Penn's Works, folio edition, i. 467.
10*

114 William penn. •
to realize it. They set spies upon his actions, who reported
to them his comings and goings, his sayings and doings. They
not only contrived to learn which were his daily haunts ; but
often in the morning they were aware how he intended to
bestow his time during the day. Agents from the city were
consequently always about his heels; and as he feared no
evil, and had nothing to conceal, the plot soon took effect.
Shortly after his return from Bucks, he went to Wheeler Street
as usual, to perform divine service after the manner of his
sect, when a sergeant and piquet of soldiers entered the room,
and as soon as he got up to address the people, pulled him
down and dragged him into the street, where a constable and
his assistants being in readiness, they conducted him like a
state criminal to the Tower, placed him in a dungeon, left a
military guard at the door, and then despatched a message to
call the worthy conspirators together. After a lapse of three
or four hours Penn was called before them.1
Sir John Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, a fellow who
had fawned upon the late admiral in his days of power, was
in the chair ; Sir Thomas Starling, Sir John Sheldon, and a
few others were present ; but the public were rigorously ex
cluded from the examination. Part of the dialogue that
ensued is preserved :
Sir John Robinson : What is this person's name ?
Constable : Mr. Penn, sir.
Robinson : Is your name Penn ?
Penn : Dost thou not know me ?
Robinson : I don't know you. I don't desire to know such
as you.
Penn : If not, why didst thou send for me hither ?
Robinson : Is that your name, sir ?
Penn : Yes, yes, my name is Penn. I am not ashamed of
my name.
Robinson : Constable, where did you find him ?
Constable : At Wheeler Street, at a meeting ; speaking to
the people.
Robinson: You mean, he was speaking at an unlawful
assembly. Constable : I don't know indeed, sir : he was there, and he
Was speaking.

1 Besse, 36, 37.

WILLIAM PENN. 115
Robinson : Give them their oaths.
Penn : Hold, don't swear the men ; there is no need of it.
I freely acknowledge I was in Wheeler Street, and that I spoke
to an assembly of people there.
Robinson : He confesses it.
Penn : I do so. I am not ashamed of my testimony.
Robinson : No matter. Give them their oaths. . . . Mr.
Penn, you know the law better than I do, and you know these
things are contrary to law.
Penn : If thou believest me to know the law better than
thyself, hear me, for I know no law I have transgressed. . .
Now I am probably to be tried by the late Act against Con
venticles ; I conceive it doth not reach me.
Robinson : No, sir. I shall not proceed upon that law.
He then named the Oxford Act ; but in a moment Penn
showed him that the law so called could not apply to him. The
conspirators thus driven to their kennell, brought out the oath
of allegiance, and Sir John cried out abruptly and angrily,
"Wilt thou take the oath?" " This is not to the purpose,"
replied Penn, who was in the midst of an ingenious protest
against their endeavor to apply to his case fragments of dif
ferent and dissimilar laws. "Read him the oath," shouted
the lieutenant. Of course, Penn refused to subscribe it ; alleg
ing as his reason, that his conscience forbade him to take up
arms at all, much more against his sovereign.
Robinson : I am sorry you put me upon this severity. It
is no pleasant work to me.
Penn : These are but words. It is manifest that this is a
prepense malice. Thou hast several times laid the meetings
for me, and this day particularly.
Robinson : No. I profess I could not tell you would be
there. Penn : Thine own corporal told me that you had intelli
gence at the Tower, that I should be at Wheeler Street to-day,
almost as soon as I knew it myself. This is disingenuous and
partial. I never gave thee occasion for such unkindness.
Robinson : I knew no such thing ; but if I had, I confess
I should have sent for thee.
Penn: That confession might have been spared. I do
heartily believe it.
Robinson : I vow, Mr. Penn, I am sorry for you. You are

116 WILLIAM PENN.
an ingenious gentleman, all the world must allow that ; and
you have a plentiful estate. Why should you render yourself
unhappy by associating with such simple people ?
Penn : I confess I have made it my choice to relinquish
the company of those that are ingeniously wicked, to converse
with those who are more honestly simple.
Robinson : I wish thee wiser.
Penn : 1 wish thee better.
Robinson :. You have been as bad as other folks.
Penn : When and where ? I charge thee tell the company
to my face.
Robinson : Abroad — and at home, too.
Sir John Sheldon : No, no, Sir John. That's too much.
Penn : I make this bold challenge to all men, justly to
accuse me with ever having heard me swear, utter a curse, or
speak one obscene word — much less that I make it my prac
tice . . . Thy words shall be my burden, and I trample thy
slander under my feet.
Robinson : Well, Mr. Penn, I have no ill-will towards you.
Your father was my friend, and I have a great deal of kindness
for you.
Penn : Thou hast an ill way of expressing it 
Robinson: Well, I must send you to Newgate for six
months, and when they are expired you will come out.
Penn : Is that all ? Thou well knowest a longer imprison
ment has not daunted me. Alas, you mistake your interest;
this is not the way to compass your ends.
Robinson : You bring yourself into trouble. You will be
heading of parties, and drawing people after you.
Penn : Thou mistakest. There is no such way as this to
render men remarkable.
Robinson : I wish your adhering to these things do not
convert you to something at last.
Penn : I would have thee and all men know that I scorn
that religion which is not worth suffering for, and able to
sustain those that are afflicted for its sake. . . . Thy religion
persecutes, mine forgives. I desire God to forgive you all
that are concerned in my commitment, and I leave you all in
perfect charity.
Robinson : Send a corporal with a file of musqueteers with
him.

WILLIAM PENN. 117
Penn : No, no ; send thy lacquey. I know the way to New
gate.1 The matter did not end here. In his orthodox zeal the
lieutenant of the Tower threatened to pull down the meeting
house in Wheeler Street, as he had already done one or two
others in the neighborhood of London.2 The property be
longed to Gilbert Latye, a wealthy citizen, and a member of
the new society ; but as soon as he heard of this design, he
sub-let it to a man of straw, and set Sir John at defiance.3
During the whole of this long period of six months, Penn
was busily employed in writing, and as the results of this
labor, not less than four important treatises came from his
hand : 1. The Great Case of Liberty of Conscience. 2 Truth
Rescued from Imposture. 3. A Postscript to Truth Exalted.
4. An Apology for the Quakers. Three of these works are
of considerable length ; and one of them, " The Great Case
of Liberty of Conscience once more briefly debated and de
fended," is not only in itself a noble piece of composition, but
from the nature of its subject, one which ought to be familiar
to every Englishman. Besides these larger works, the prisoner
wrote numerous letters on public and private business. The
young lady of Chalfont, from whom he had so lately parted,
would naturally occupy not a few of his thoughts ; but the
cause in wliich they were jointly embarked had the first claims
on his services. Besides long letters written to a Catholic,
who had taken offence at his " Caveat against Popery," and
to the sheriffs of London, on the state of Newgate, and the
abuses practised by the gaolers on such as either could not, or
from scruples of conscience would not, buy their favors ; he
wrote a dignified, and temperate letter to the High Court of
Parliament, then known to be contemplating a more rigorous
enforcement of the act against conventicles, explaining the
principles of his body, as far as civil and political affairs are
concerned, so as to prove that the freedom they claimed was
in no way dangerous to the State.4 But the House of Com
mons was in a sullen mood. Charles had recently issued a
declaration of indulgence to tender consciences, in consequence
of which a great number of religious sectaries, including not
less than five hundred Quakers, had been set at liberty ;5 and
1 Besse, 40. 2 Life of Latye, 71. 3 Ibid. 76.
4 Besse, 43. All these writings will be found in the folio edition of his
works. B Ibid. 44.

118 WILLIAM PENN.
although it was probably not even suspected at that time that
the King had secretly declared himself a Papist, and had
undertaken for a large sum of money to openly announce
the fact, and give encouragement to the public performance
of the Catholic ritual,1 the jealousy of the Commons was
aroused on the legal right of the King to send out such an
edict, without first asking and obtaining the consent of Parlia
ment.2 Other causes strengthened the ill-feeling of the House
towards the Court. In one of the money debates, a member
proposed to tax the theatres ; this was resisted by the courtiers,
on the ground that the theatres contributed to his Majesty's
pleasures; on which Coventry asked whether his Majesty's
pleasures lay among the men or the women players. The
sarcasm was bitterly resented at Whitehall. Hired ruffians
were set upon Coventry in the street, at night, who disfigured
his face, and otherwise ill-treated him.3 The House took the
matter up warmly; Charles abandoned his agents, and the
bill, to spite him by fresh persecutions for opinion's sake, passed
the House on the first and second readings, and was only pre
vented from becoming law by a dispute about privilege. Penn's
arguments had no effect in this quarter.4
When his term of imprisonment was up, he went abroad for
a time : at first into Holland, and afterwards into Germany,
in both of which countries he carried on the work of the min
istry, and made some converts to his opinions.5 Embden was
one of the cities where he seems to have made a great impres
sion. The first meeting was held in the house of Dr. Haesbert,
who was deeply struck with the new doctrines proposed by the
English missionary, and after giving the matter three months
consideration, he openly embraced them, and was the first
Quaker in that part of the continent. About twelve months
later his wife joined the new sect, and a goodly meeting was
in course of time formed in Embden which looked to William
Penn with the feelings of a converted country to the apostle
1 See the account in Dalrymple, ii. 62 et seq.
2 Com. Jour., February and March.
3 Andrew Marvell, i. 413. The Duke of Monmouth was at the bottom of
this affair. A few nights later, Monmouth, Albemarle, and a number of other
roysterers set upon the watch, and murdered the beadle. To save his son.
the King pardoned all the murderers. Marvell describes the indignation of
the people — the crime and the pardon appearing to them almost equally
atrocious. 4 Journals of the House of Commons, February 21 to March 11.
6 Besse, 43.

WILLIAM PENN. 119
of its conversion.1 In the days of persecution which soon
came upon them — when the members of the new sect were
flogged in public, cast into loathsome dungeons, fed on bread
and water, mulcted in heavy fines, and even banished from
their native land — his voice was ever raised in their defence
and his influence used for their protection.2 The most curious
passage of this continental journey was, however, a visit which
he paid to the settlement of the sect of De Labadie, at Her-
werden in the Rhineland.3
De Labadie had been a Jesuit, but not finding peace of mind
in the formalities of the faith in which he had been trained, he
deserted his order and joined one of the French Protestant
churches. These, however, proved as inefficacious as the other ;
and in their turn he seceded from them ; even the iron Cal
vinism of Geneva did not satisfy his ardent mind, so he with
drew from all communion with the dead and formal churches
of this world. Having found two disciples, Pastor Ivon and
Du Lignon, he removed into the Dutch republic, where alone
at that time toleration for religious opinions could be found ;
and began to declaim so loudly against the corruptions and
apostacies ofthe priests and people there, that the clergy stirred
up the civil magistrates against him; but the ex-Jesuit had
already placed himself under the protection of several great
and powerful ladies, particularly of the Princess Elizabeth of
the Rhine, who sheltered him in the hour of need. At Her-
werden, the court of the princess, he founded a sort of lay
convent ; and it was here that Penn, who was warmly received
by her highness as an Englishman of distinction, paid him the
first visit. He talked with the new apostle, but whether from
a fear of introducing a fresh doctor to his followers, or for some
other reason, De Labadie absolutely refused to allow Penn to
converse with or even to see any of his flock. A few years
later, he was more fortunate in this respect ; but the impres
sion left upon his mind by De Labadie's conversation was not
favorable to that individual : " I saw the airiness and unsta-
bleness of the man's spirit, and that a sect-master was his
1 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 96.
2 Penn's letter to the Senate of Embden. Works, i. 609.
3 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 59. Penn wrote this account of
his journey for the use of his family only ; but copies of it having got into the
hands of several pious persons, it was found several years after it was written
among the Countess of Conway's papers, and was then published.

120 WILLIAM PENN.
name." The pious princess having seen some reason to be
dissatisfied with her charge, De Labadie removed, with his
two disciples, to the mansion-house of the Somerdykes, near
Wiewart in the north of Holland. The Somerdykes were a
noble Dutch family chiefly residing at the Hague; but three
of the daughters, being struck with the preaching of De La
badie, resolved to withdraw themselves from the world, and
with their new pastors, the famous Anna Maria Schurmans
and several other persons, retired to the old country house at
Wiewart, where they were said to live in a style of great sober
ness and simplicity, worshipping God without regard to forms
and doing such good as lay in their power in a quiet, unosten
tatious manner. Subsequently Penn saw and conversed with
the several members of this little community, and was much
edified by their discourses. He repaid their confidence by
telling them the story of his own religious experiences, and
after much converse parted from them in a sober and serious
frame of mind.1 There were at this time many other religious
communities in Holland in which Penn took a deep interests-
various sections of the great Puritan party of England, who
had crossed over into that country at the return of the Stuarts,
with tbe intention of ultimately migrating to the new world.
To all these exiled sects, America was the land of promise, the
subject of their daily talk and nightly dreams. Many ship
loads of emigrants had already gone out ; at religious meetings
and in the domestic circle the glowing accounts sent by the
adventurers of the perils of the sea-voyage, of the beauty and
fertility of the new country, were read and re-read ; and hardly
a year passed by that did not witness the departure of a fresh
band of these devout and sturdy founders of the great republic.
The stories told by those who for a time were left behind of
the trials from which they and their fellows had fled, of their
unconquerable desire to found a free state in the depths of the
wilderness, where every man should be able to worship God
according to the dictates of conscience, of the dangers which
their predecessors in the good work had encountered and over
come, of their own anxiety to follow them to their new home
— all this was profoundly interesting to Penn, and served to
revive the romantic dreams in which he had found comfort
while at Oxford. Though his thoughts on this subject assumed
1 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 93.

WILLIAM PENN. 121
as yet no distinct and practical shape, they became more and
more fixed during this sad and melancholy tour on the land to
which he saw the best men of his age endeavoring so earnestly
to export themselves.1 The original germ of Pennsylvania
was evidently quickening into life.
After so long a separation, Penn was not unreasonably
anxious to be near Guli Springett once again. Calling to see
his mother at Wanstead on his way to London, he made a
short stay in the capital, visiting old friends, and reporting
the results of his journey, and then posted down to Bucks,
where he was received by the people of the Grange with open
arms, by Miss Springett as her affianced husband, and by
Ellwood and the Penningtons as the champion of their faith.
In -their society he seems to have now passed a considerable
time, dallying with the blissful days of courtship, and slowly
making preparations for his marriage. He took a house in
the first instance at Rickmansworth, about six miles from
Chalfont, which being made ready for Guli's reception, the
marriage rites were performed in the early spring of 1672,
six or seven months after his liberation from Newgate, and
husband and wife at once took up their residence in their new
dwelling.1 Their honeymoon lasted long. The spring and summer
came and went, but Penn still remained with his young and
lovely wife at Rickmansworth ; neither the flatteries of friends
nor the attacks of foes could draw him away from his charm
ing seclusion. During these summer months he neither wrote
nor travelled ; that very instinct of activity, that restless and
aggressive spirit, which were the sources of nearly all his
usefulness, were, so to say, touched with the wand of the
enchantress and laid to rest. Since his expulsion from his
father's house, he had never known so much repose of mind
and body. Seeing him surrounded by all that makes domestic
happiness complete — a charming home, a beautiful and loving
wife, a plentiful estate, the prospect of a family, and a troop
of attached and admiring friends, — those who knew him only
at second hand imagined that the apostle of civil and religious
liberty was now about to subside into the quiet country gen
tleman, more interested in cultivating his paternal acres, than
1 He makes many references in after years to the " great weight and suf
fering" that lay on his spirit at this time. Ibid. i. 59.
2 Besse, i. 44. 11

122 WILLIAM PENN.
with the progress of an unpopular doctrine and the general
enlightenment of mankind. But those who reasoned so,
knew little of William Penn, and perhaps still less of the lady
who had now become his wife. A few months given up to
love, the first transports of a virtuous passion refined into the
sober certainty of bliss, — Guli would herself have scorned
the man who, through infirmity of purpose, could have al
lowed himself to sink into the mere sloth of the affections,
who by his outward showing to the world would have repre
sented her alliance as bringing weakness to his character
instead of strength. Penn was not that man.
His interval of rest over, the preacher again resumed his
work, travelling, disputing, writing, as he went along j1 but it
is not necessary to trace his daily fortunes in this part of his
career ; enough if the more important points and most cha
racteristic incidents are preserved. In the journeys in which
the next three years of his life were consumed he was often
accompanied by Guli ; but after the birth of her first son,
whom she called Springett in affectionate remembrance of her
father, he had to travel more and more frequently alone, or
in the society of itinerant apostles like himself — George Fox,
Robert Barclay, George Whitehead, and others. But besides
these fatiguing labors, he wrote during this period no less
than twenty-six books of controversy, some of them of con
siderable length and consummate ability ; and two political
works — the "Treatise on Oaths," and "England's present
Interest considered," both of which display a rare acuteness
of thought, a mind richly stored with classical and historical
lore, and a profound respect for those heroes of our elder
annals who succeeded in establishing* the laws, charters, and
constitutions which form the solid bases of our national rights
and liberties.2
On looking back upon the history of that period, the in
quirer is painfully struck with the Un-English habits of mind
prevailing in high places : — the utter laxity in all that related
to moral conduct, the extreme severity in what had reference
to opinion. The memoirs of the Count de Grammont and
the journals of George Fox, give us the two sides of this me
lancholy picture — the courtesan raised to the palace by her
1 Besse, i. 44.
2 All these works are contained in the folio edition, 2 vols.

WILLIAM PENN. 123
vices, the good man sent by his very virtues to a gaol. But
perhaps the most melancholy feature of the case, is the cir
cumstance, evidenced by all the party writings of that time,
that these striking contrasts appeared to those who saw and
suffered under them as not unnatural ! Between sect and sect
there were few if any points of sympathy. Toleration was a
thing unknown ; and the severest persecutions known were
such as arose out of the angry vindictiveness of sect against
sect. Besse relates with a chuckle of delight that one of
William Penn's opponents "vexed himself to death" over a
trenchant attack from the young polemic.1 Fox continually
talks of turning over his foes to "the vengeance of the Lord."
In the midst of all the floating fanaticism of the age, the
Church held on her dignified and apathetic course. While
her overmastering intolerance had the sanction of Court and
Parliament, the dissenting sects indulged in a common feeling
of hostility towards her ; but the moment the iron grasp of
persecution was removed, they fell to quarreling among them
selves with even more bitterness of heart than they had ever
before exhibited. Some part of this unamiable spirit may
perhaps be not unfairly attributed to the general religious
fervor of the times, the leaders of opinion feeling the need of
keeping up a continual excitement among their followers ;
something also to the zeal of recent converts and the ambition
inseparable from infant congregations : but when every rea
sonable allowance is made, there still remains an amount of
spiritual intolerance which can hardly be realized in connection
with the idea of pure aims and conscientious minds. William
Penn stood almost alone as a religious and yet a tolerant
man : but his tolerance was not that of the indifferent. He
held it to be a serious thing to be wrong in matters of faith ;
but opinions not depending on the will so much as on the un
derstanding, he thought it was the duty of society to instruct
rather than to punish the erring. But having disarmed the
civil magistrate of power to inflict penalties for opinion's sake,
he reserved the free use of all the weapons of controversy, to
wound, to incite, to correct the unbeliever. Like Milton, he
felt that he was not bound to be polite to those whom he con
tended with in the arena ; and although his invective was
often happy and powerful, it was also at times coarse and
1 Besse, i. 41.

124 WILLIAM PENN.
abrupt. The letter which he wrote to Louis Muggleton, was
addressed to him — "False prophet and-imposter."1 A brief
account of one of his controversies with the minister of a
rival sect will convey a notion of the spirit in which the
various dissenting bodies acted towards each other at that
time. Thomas Hicks, a Baptist • preacher in London, finding his
congregation diminish week after week, and knowing that
most of the seceders had become listeners to the doctrines of
George Fox, as delivered by Penn and Barclay, brought out
a work in the form of a dialogue between a Christian and a
Quaker, wherein each party was made to argue the merits of
their respective creeds, — the point being to show that the
Quaker was not a Christian. Of course the Christian had
the best of the argument ; for like a prudent controversialist,
Mr. Hicks was careful not to let his Quaker advance any
thing that could not be easily refuted ; indeed, he made him
talk such nonsense, that there was no merit in the victory.2
Penn, disgusted at the trick, immediately rejoined with his
" Christian Quaker and his Divine Testimony Vindicated,"3
a work which contains a brief summary of the doctrines of
the inner Light. Hicks replied by way of continuation to
the former dialogue ; if that can be called a reply which never
once alludes to the work which it is issued to answer. Penn
had not named Hicks in his book ; Hicks now refused to name
Penn. But the matter was not to end thus smoothly ; deter
mined not to let his opponent have the last word — which in
controversy is like leaving the field of battle to the enemy in
war — the young Quaker sent forth a sharp and stinging
attack under the title of "Reason against Railing and Truth
against Fiction."4 Smarting under the sarcasm and vehement
abuse of this work, the Baptist wrote a second continuation
of his dialogue, to which Penn made answer in "The Coun
terfeit Christian Detected,"5 a work disfigured by as much
violence as any thing in the pages of Milton, but which had
the merit of fulfilling the intention of its writer : — Thomas
Hicks was completely silenced.6 The Quakers, now on the
vantage ground, were not yet satisfied with their victory.
1 Works, i. 45. 2 Besse, 46.
3 Collected Works, i. 521 4 Ibid. ii. 498.
s Collected Works, ii. 560.
6 Besse, 46, Penn's Works, i. 521 ; ii. 498 et seq.

WILLIAM PENN. 125
Pressing their fallen foe, they appealed to the whole body of
the Baptists against him, and made out such a case as com
pelled the leaders of that sect to call him to a public account
of his conduct. — A meeting was accordingly appointed to be
held, in the Barbican, at which the charges made by and
against him might be heard and adjudged ; but Kiffin and
other of his friends contrived to fix the meeting for a day
when Penn and George Whitehead were in the country, and
too far away to be sent for at a moment's notice.1 The con
sequence was, that his own party being alone present, there
was no proper accusation, the thing fell through, and a ma
jority of voices declared the offender free from the charges
made against him.2
On hearing of these transactions Penn hastened to London,
where he found the matter a general subject of gossip. All
the town was talking of himself and Hicks ; and the triumph
of the Baptist was discussed in every coffee-house in the city.3
His first act was to write an account of the late proceedings
to George Fox, then a prisoner in Worcester gaol.4 Next he
put forth a strong appeal to the public on the unfair charac
ter of the late assembly; and concluded by demanding a new
meeting of the Baptists, in the Barbican or elsewhere, at
which he promised to attend and make good his charges. For
a time the body so addressed refused to comply with this re
quest, on the plausible ground that a man who has been once
acquitted in open trial ought not to be again arraigned on the
same indictment ; but the Quakers were not slow to seize hold
of this refusal and ascribe it to fear, and the public growing
more and more excited about it, they at length gave way and
appointed a second meeting.5
When Penn, Keith, and others of their party, arrived at
the meeting, they found a large and eager audience ; but
Hicks himself was not present. On inquiry being made, it
was found that he had taken up his quarters at a neighboring
alehouse, whence he had sent Ives, the old enemy of the
Quakers, to get up a row in the meeting and bring the affair
to a close ; a task which he endeavored manfully but in vain
to achieve.6 The public was too strong to be put down. Not
1 Penn to Fox, July 5, 1674, MS. 2 Thomas Ellwood's Memoirs, 307.
3 Penn to Fox, July 5, 1674, MS. - Fox's Journal, 405.
6 Ibid. 309. The Barbican Cheat Detected, by Thos. Rudyard, 4.
6 Narrative of a Second Meeting, 9. Ellwood, 309.
11*

126 WILLIAM PENN.
less than six thousand persons, it is said, were present.1 At
first some of them were disposed to be riotous. "If Christ
was the inner Light, where was his manhood?" cried a person
from the body of the room, whereupon the audience, by
shouts and clamors, compelled the Quakers to enter into an
unexpected controversy on the point thus raised. How cu
rious to think of a mob of six thousand persons, excited
almost to the length of committing a breach of the peace on
a subtlety like this ! It was a scene worthy of a nation of
Greeks. So long as the Quakers pressed towards the main
object of the meeting — a consideration of the charges of
slander, falsehood, and forgery against Hicks, — they kept up
a scene of confusion which prevented any thing being done.
Singularly enough, a discussion of doctrines was found to
have more attractions for them than a scene of personal abuse
and recrimination, — and Penn at last giving way to their hu
mor, they subsided at once into silence, decorum, and good
order.2 The debate was then opened on this point. The Quakers
affirmed the inner Light to be the same thing as the life,
spirit, seed, word, light, and other words of similar meaning
and frequent occurrence in the sacred writings. It was con
fessed that these terms, so applied in Scripture, were any of
them equivalent to the term Christ — the name, not of a per
son, but of an office or a principle. Penn and Barclay had
declared, again and again, that the inner Light — the Con
science, is the particle of God which has been implanted in
man, to warn him against sin and prepare him for salvation.
In fact, they held this conscience to be an infallible guide ;
but the question then arose, if conscience be an infallible
guide, what is the use, in the economy of God, for Jesus
Christ ? What is his office ? The answer was — Christ and
Conscience are identical. Then came the metaphysical sub
tlety : if Christ and Conscience be identical, what of Jesus ?
Christ was an office, or a principle ; but Jesus of Nazareth
was a man of flesh and blood. Are Christ and Jesus not
identical ? This, of course, could not be affirmed. To say
that Christ and Jesus were not identical, would be a denial
that Jesus was the Christ. How, then, was the man Jesus,
the son of Mary, identical with Conscience, or the inner
1 Penn's letter to George Fox, quoted in the text. 2 Sewell, ii. 232-4.

WILLIAM PENN. 127
Light ? This admission it was equally impossible to make,
without creating an after difficulty. But how avoid the di
lemma ? The question was pressed upon the Quakers — Do
you hold the manhood to be a part of Christ ? That vast
assembly waited in solemn silence for the answer. How it
was given, is related in a letter from Penn to George Fox,
part of which runs as follows : —
" The question was, ' If the manhood were a part of
Christ ?' To this we must either have answered nothing, or
only a Scripture, or in the terms of the question, or as we
did. " If we had answered nothing, we had gratified the enemy,
stumbled the moderate, and grieved friends.
" If a Scripture, it had been no way satisfactory ; for the
question, they would have said, was not about the text, but
about the understanding of it ; and they would have charged
us with so wresting it to a mystical sense, as to shut out the
person that appeared in the flesh ; so that, if we had answered
them in any of those Scriptures, they would have asked in all
probability, What man do you mean ? the spiritual and
heavenly man ? the new creature or creation ? or that out
ward man, that was outwardly born of the Virgin in Pales
tine, and was there outwardly crucified ? If we had said No,
we had been lost. That they would have put a mystical con
struction on our words, if we had not answered them plainly,
that is, by what we understand by the Scripture, rather than
by the Scripture itself, I have cause to believe, because the
same person that proposed the question, thus expounded, after
the meeting, our belief in Christ, 'that he was born of a
virgin, that is, of a virgin nature and spirit ; crucified, that
is, slain by sin in us ; rose, that is, rose up to rule us, and
the like,' — making the people believe, that we denied that
person, that outwardly appeared, to be the true Christ.
" Further- if we had answered in the terms of the question,
we had taken Christ into parts, whereas, I cried twice to
them, ' Christ is not to be divided into parts.' But they still
pressed the question, six thousand people, I believe, being
present, and many of them were desirous of an answer. Upon
this, Friends consented that it should be answered them,- ' that
the manhood was a part of Christ.' But I feared the word
part, and chose rather to say, that we believed the holy man
hood to be a member of the Christ of God, and my reasons

128 WILLIAM PENN.
for so doing were these: First, What needed we to grant
more than was asked ? Friends only desired to have us grant
that the manhood was a part of Christ, in order to overthrow
Hicks' attempts to prove us no Christians ; and that was of
so great moment in that solemn and great assembly, as tongue
cannot utter. Secondly, Since we were willing to go no
further in our confessions than they asked at our hands, this
was my reason for rejecting the word part for member, to wit,
that a body may be taken into members without breach of
union, but not into parts. A member divides not : parts di
vide. Christ is called the head, that is, the most noble mem
ber, the Church the body, and particulars are styled members
of that body. Now, calling these members divides them not
into parts. Thirdly, I did not say, it was but a member, and
I often repeated, that it was of and belonging to Christ ; and
in my confession at the close I said, that we believed in
Christ, both as he was the man Jesus, and God over all blessed
forever. And I am sure that Paul divides him more than we
did (Rom. ix. 5), since he makes a distinction between Christ
as God, and Christ as man."
The debate went on until it was quite dark. Penn then
called for lights ; but Kiffin and other Baptists represented
that the doors having been broken by the crowd, and some of
the seats torn out of their places, these things would need to
be repaired before the morrow, and it would therefore be only
proper to adjourn ; and as so large an assembly was very un
manageable, they proposed that a deputation from each body
should meet at an early day and settle the dispute. This
proposal was accepted.1
By this time Penn had become not only the sword of the
new sect, kept perpetually unsheathed to meet its enemies in
battle, but his more comprehensive and sober mind had made
itself felt even within the body of the faithful. Already he
had obtained that influence which enabled him to restrain the
madness of the few for the advantage of the many. Men's
minds were so much unsettled, that no amount of fanaticism
seemed surprising. Two ardent converts, fancying they felt
a divine revelation to that effect, set off for Rome, to convert
the Pope ;2 but they had not been long in the eternal city, ere
1 Material Passages between Quakers and Baptists, 27-30.
2 Gerard Croese, 271.

WILLIAM PENN. 129
they were arrested as dangerous heretics and placed in con
finement : — one of them, John Love, was sent to the Inquisi
tion, where he died in a short time, with such aids as the
Holy Office then made free use of for the suppression of
heresy ; the other, John Perrot, was sent to a hospital for the
insane.1 England, however, could not quite abandon her
children in this way ; (under Cromwell the Roman court
would have been required to render a satisfactory account of
Love ;2) and after a good deal of interest had been made in
his behalf, Perrot was set at liberty ; on which he returned to
his own country, where he soon gave his former friends so
much annoyance that many of them could hardly help wish
ing him again in the Roman bedlam.3 It was in the conduct
of men like Perrot that the weak side of the New Christian
Democracy came out. Soon after his return to England, he
began to hold the doctrine, that even in prayer the hat should
not be removed, except at the instance of the divine wish
made manifest to the soul. This was felt by Penn to be a
dangerous development of his own idea. Not uncover to God !
It was not only absurd, but destroyed the argument on which
his own refusal to unbonnet to the King had been justified.
Mild but firm measures were taken with the innovator ; but as
usual with such men, Perrot refused to conform, and was ex
pelled the society. Thereupon he published a pamphlet,
called the " Spirit of The Hat," — which Penn answered in
"The Spirit of Alexander the Coppersmith." -More pam
phlets followed : — Penn, as usual, having the last word.4
Energetic as ever in all that concerned his beliefs, there
are nevertheless very manifest traces of a mild and softening
influence being at this time exercised over the polemic from
Rickmansworth. Guli's family was increasing, and she now
travelled much less with her husband than she had done,
when her hands were free ; but her gentle voice, and woman's
counsel, went with him, to restrain his fierceness in the hour
of conflict. His rebuke became milder, his form of abjuration
somewhat less emphatic and severe. He was evidently grow
ing a wiser and a more useful man. Living much at Rick
mansworth, it was natural that the Penns should gradually
1 Fox's Journal, 242.
2 See the case recorded by Limborch, Hist. Iquis. i. 214, 1731.
3 Fox, 241. Memoirs of Richard Davies, 70.
4 Penn's Works, ii. 189.

130 WILLIAM PENN.
collect about themselves a circle of friends imbued with their
own sentiments in reference to religion ; and the neighbor
hood became so infected with the new doctrine, as to rouse
the ire of the famous Richard Baxter, who in passing through
the town was struck With the multitude of Quakers. Regard
ing these people as so many lost sheep, he tried to call them
into his own fold. Penn and he agreed to meet and publicly
discuss their several tenets. For many miles round the coun
try was excited with the thought of a contest in which two of
the foremost men in the religious world were to make a keen
encounter of their wits ; and on the day named, two large
rooms were crammed with impatient listeners, including no
blemen, knights of the shire, and clergymen of the Esta
blished Church. No report of this curious debate has come
down to us ; it is only known that the two speakers addressed
the two audiences in turn, that the sitting lasted seven hours,
and that both parties claimed the victory ! no uncommon
termination of public debates on questions of doctrine.1
The early part of the session of 1673 was occupied by the
dispute of the House of Commons and the King as to the right
to issue declarations of indulgence without consent of Parlia
ment. The country was undoubtedly with the House on this
question. The Church party looked upon the royal declara
tion as a direct provocative to Popery and Dissent. The
popular party, looking only at the political issues of the dis
pute, could not but feel that if the King triumphed on this
point, it would consecrate his pretension to suspend the civil
as well as the ecclesiastical law whenever it suited his purposes.
This would have been to lose all that the Revolution had won.
They held the royal prerogative to be sufficiently well defined :
it rested with him, as the dispenser of mercy, to pardon the
violater of the law, but not to suspend its action for a single
moment.2 Even the Dissenters agreed, for the most part, with
these latter reasoners ; for the leading members of the House
gave out their desire to afford protection to all Protestant sects
in England, only that they wished to give that protection a
legal character ; and in the meantime it was necessary that
1 Baxter's Memoirs, Part iii. 174. Besse in the Appendix to the Life of
Penn, i. 167, 173.
2 See the speeches of the King and his minister, Shaftesbury, in the Lords'
Journals, xii. 523 et seq., and the debates in the House of Commons, Febru
ary 7, and following days.

WILLIAM PENN. 131
the declaration of indulgence which had been sent out on the
sole authority of the crown, should be cancelled. These argu
ments prevailed. A large majority of the Commons declared
that his Majesty had exceeded his powers.1 Charles took time
to consider his answer; and at last replied that his ancestors
had exercised the power now in dispute. This the Commons
denied; which denial the King received as an insult, and
threatened to dissolve the House ; but his more cautious and
politic friend, Louis Quatorze, advised him to submit, in order
to gain time until peace was finally concluded with Holland,
when the troops then engaged on the continent could be used
against his enemies in England — he himself also offering to
supply him with money and forces from France sufficient to
crush every attempt to resist his royal will. Charles adopted
this patriotic counsel.2 The very evening on which it was
offered by Colbert, on behalf of his august master, the King
sent for a copy of the declaration and tore it up in presence
of his ministers. Next day this act of royal grace was made
public ; the two Houses of Parliament received the intelligence
with loud shouts of satisfaction ; and in the evening huge bon
fires illumined the capital and testified the. joy of the inhabi
tants.3 But this day of rejoicing was the beginning of years of
bitter sorrow to a large and interesting class of Englishmen.
The fires which lighted the eighth of March were .hardly ex
tinguished ere the Test Act, hurried through the Commons
with most indecent haste, was sent up to the Peers, and in less
than ten days one of the most disgraceful laws ever passed in
England was added to the book of statutes.4 Its authors pro
fessed to strike only at the Papists ; and to prove their since
rity they introduced another bill for the relief of Nonconform
ing Protestants; but delay followed delay; the debates were
adjourned from time to time ; one clause after another was
amended or struck out ; and, in fact, prorogation overtook
them before their work was finished, and the whole body of
upright and conscientious Dissenters was left at the mercy of
any petty tyrant who chose to rake up against them the old
penal statutes.5
1 Journals of the House of Commons, Feb. 10.
2 Dalrymple, ii. 93 et seq. 3 Ibid. ii. 96. Lords' Jour. xii. 549.
4 Statutes, 25, Carolus II. c. 5. Com. Jour. Feb. 28. Mar. 12 Comp. Marvell,
i.494, 5. Dalrymple, ii. 90.
6 The progress and abandonment of this measure may be traced in the

132 WILLIAM PENN.
The Quakers were among the foremost sufferers.1 At this
juncture it was that Penn produced his work on "England's
present Interest." Every line of this production seems written
with an indignant hand ; passion makes him eloquent and almost
terse. — " There is no law under heaven, which has its rise from
nature or grace, that forbids men to deal honestly and plainly
with the greatest" — thus he begins ; and addressing himself
to those in authority, he proceeds to show how the old charters
of liberty have been violated, adducing specific instances of
each support of his assertions. He goes at great length into
the origin of English liberties ; particularly with a view; to
show that they are older in date than our religious establish
ment — were secured long before the birth of Luther or of
Henry: "we were a free people," he says very finely, "by
the creation of God and by the careful provision of our never-
to-be-forgotten ancestors ; so that our claim to these English
privileges, rising higher than Protestantism, can never justly
be invalidated on account of nonconformity to any tenet or
fashion it may prescribe. This would be to lose by the Re
formation." — His concluding advice to the ruling powers is —
1, To conserve all the ancient rights and liberties of the peo
ple ; 2, To grant entire freedom to opinion in matters of faith ;
and, 3, To endeavor to promote the growth of true and prac
tical piety in the nation.2
The composition of this work kept Penn at home a consi
derable part of the year ; but his attention was continually
diverted from it to special cases of more than common hard
ship. The letters written by him at this period to magistrates,
sheriffs, lieutenants of counties and others in behalf of indivi
dual sufferers, were very numerous.3 These have a certain
uniformity of style and matter, except where, as in the case
of Justice Fleming, some peculiar interest attached to the man
or the circumstances.
Justice Fleming had been an old friend of the Springetts ;
and some years previous to this date, had been particularly
kind to Guli when she was on a visit at his house in West-
Journals of the House of Lords, pp. 561, 584 ; and in the Pari. Hist. vol. iv.
pp. 535, 575.
1 Penn's letter to the King, i. 48.
2 The entire work will repay perusal, i. 672.
3 Only some of these are to be found in the collected edition (folio) of his
works.

WILLIAM PENN. 133
moreland. The letter of remonstrance written to him, on the
receipt of some complaints of his having acted very harshly
towards the Quakers in his magisterial capacity, is concluded
in language of great courtliness and beauty. One can fancy
Guli looking over Penn's shoulder as he wrote these words —
"however differing I am from other men, circa sacra, and that
world which, respecting men, may be said to begin when this
ends, I know no religion that destroys courtesy, civility and
kindness."1 A noble and catholic avowal !
Penn had been five years absent from court ; but the per
secutions which now arose carried him again into the region
of Whitehall. Mead and he went down to the palace with
the secretary to the duchess, to plead for the liberation of
George Fox, but when they arrived they found the house so
full of people and the duke so busy, that the secretary could
not obtain admission for himself. The deputation were about
to withdraw very sadly, when Colonel Aston, of the duke?s
bed-chamber, seeing his old friend Penn, whom he had lost
sight of for a long time, asked him into the drawing-room.
Aston then went into the duke's closet ; and James, hearing
who it was, at once came out, saying how glad he was to see
his ward again. He listened to the request about Fox with
much courtesy, — and replied he was against all persecution for
religion's sake. In his youth, he confessed, he had been warm
against sectaries, because he thought they used their con
sciences only as a pretext to disturb the government ; but he
had considered better, and was now willing to do to others as he
hoped to be done by. He wished all men were of that opinion ;
for he was sure no man was willing to be persecuted for hia
own belief. He would use his influence with the king. But
where had Penn been, and why had he not called at the palace ?
He had promised the admiral to look after his son ; but that
son had never shown himself at court. He told him to come
whenever he had any business in which his royal highness
could be of any assistance; that he should always be pleased
to see him ; and would do his best to fulfill towards him all the
duties of a guardian.2

2

1 Works, i. 157.
2 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. 2d part, 240-2.
12

134 WILLIAM PENN.

CHAPTER V.
1673-1678.
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

The love of country, strong in nearly all men, was one of
the most powerful sentiments of the English Puritan. But
he had other and higher inspirations. His love of personal
freedom — his claim to a free utterance for his thoughts — the
determination to bend his knee only at the shrine which his
conscience owned — these were instincts stronger in him than
even the love of life. Not lightly or hastily did the real
founders of empire in the New World turn their backs on
the land which had given them birth. Years of accumulated
wrong and insult were required to loosen their tenacious hold
of the soil which had been ploughed and reaped by their
Saxon forefathers ; and when the cup of misery was full, they
quitted the ports they were never more to behold again with
blessings on their lips, and with their faces, like their hearts,
still turned towards dear old England, departing more in sor
row than in anger.1 In the days of peace and concord, now
and then recurring in the most unsettled times, the tide of
emigration had always ebbed out slowly ; but now that the
act of indulgence had been cancelled by the King, and the
fury of persecution began to fill the gaols and stocks with
victims, attention was again directed to the plan, already car
ried out in part, for founding a New Home beyond the seas,
away from the old political and religious rivalries of Europe,
for the persecuted of all creeds and nations.
To William Penn this idea had been more or less familiar
from his boyhood ; but it had haunted him as a romantic
dream rather than possessed him like a fixed passion. At
twelve years old the victories of his father in the West Indies
had first tinged his fancy with the splendors of American
scenery, — during the retirement of the family in Ireland,
after the admiral's disgrace, the subject of buying an estate
1 Mather, 1. iii. c. 1. "Farewell, dear England !" was the parting expres
sion of the Pilgrim Fathers.

WILLIAM PENN. 135
in the New World had often been discussed in the social circle,
— in his hour of excitement and disobedience at Oxford he
had again turned to these earlier projects and laid out a new
Oceanea or Utopia in his fancy among the islands of the ar
chipelago or deep in the luxurious savannahs of the mainland
— at the yearly meeting of his own religious society the set
tlement of Quakers in Jamaica, in New England, and on the
Delaware, had been frequently discussed,1 and the journey
which he had still more recently made into Holland and Ger
many, had contributed to rouse and complete the gathering
zeal of years. At Amsterdam, at Leyden, and in the cities of
the Upper Rhine, his imagination had been excited by the pe
rilous stories which he had heard from the relatives and friends
of those who had bid adieu to Europe, crossed the Atlantic
in their frail barks, and settled along the sea-board of the
western world. The enthusiasm which these events had raised
in his mind grew on him with years, and at length led him
towards a practical trial of the Holy Experiment.
His first connection with the continent on which he was to
build an enduring monument in the glorious form of a harbor
of refuge for the oppressed of all nations, was in the affairs
of New Jersey.2 The reader will not need to be reminded
that during the reign of Charles Second, many of the Eng
lish colonies and conquests in America were given or sold
away to private proprietors ; and in accordance with the
principle of misrule then prevailing, the King made over to
his brother James, the Duke of York, the magnificent province
of New Netherlands, stretching from the shores of the Dela
ware to Connecticut River, even before a single rood of the
land had yet been wrested from the hands of the Dutch Colo
nists.3 Two months before the conquest, James in his turn
had granted to Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret, in
equal shares, the region lying between the Hudson and the
Delaware. When the English forces took final possession of
the country, the old names and boundaries were removed, and
in honor of Sir George Carteret, late governor of the island
of Jersey in the British Channel, the entire province received
the appellation of New Jersey. As the object of nearly all
the noble owners of these colonial estates was to wring as
1 A colony of Quakers went out to Jamaica soon after the conquest of the
island. Thurloe, vi. 834.
2 Day's Pennsylvania Hist. Coll. 12. 3 Watson's Annals, 10.

136 WILLIAM PENN.
much money out of them as possible, it was soon seen to be
their private interest to offer such liberal concessions — or
constitutions — as would attract that crowd of able, energetic,
and wealthy persons, who, suffering under the penal statutes
of the old country, were anxious to find in the new land a
field of enterprise and a shelter from persecution. Without,
therefore, being in their own persons the advocates of civil
and religious liberty, these speculators not unfrequently es
tablished in their colonial possessions enlarged and liberal fun
damental laws— the lust of gain doing in their case the work
of patriotism and virtue ! The two owners of New Jersey
having offered concessions to settlers in this spirit, a number
of Puritans already in New England set sail from the port of
New Haven, with a view to establish themselves in the re
cently acquired territory, and having reached the Passaic,
held a council there with the Indian tribes, changed the old
name of the settlement to New Ark, and laid the foundations
of a thoroughly democratic government.1 Under their free
and vigorous rule the province rapidly increased in pros
perity ; the English Quakers began to take an interest in its
affairs, and a few of them went thither to settle. But Berke
ley in a short time grew dissatisfied with his position ; disputes
about quit-rents and privileges arose ; and the noble earl
found his ease disturbed by the murmurs and remonstrances
of the men into whose hands he had passed away the reins of
government. These troubles made him anxious to sell his
share in the province ; and as George Fox had just returned
from a visit to the English settlements in America,2 the Qua
kers, on his report, opened a communication with Berkeley,
who in the end agreed with one of their body, John Fenwick,
agent and trustee of Edward Byllinge, for the sale of his
share of the province for a thousand pounds.3 Before any
steps, however, had been taken to draw public attention to this
new settlement as a field of colonial enterprise, a serious dis
pute arose between the agent and his principal as to their
respective shares in the purchase : Fenwick, a litigious and
troublesome person, as is evident from his letters,1 contend
ing that a certain allotment of the land should be made over
to him and his heirs, to which Byllinge strenuously objected.
1 Watson's Annals, 7. 2 Fox's Journal.
3 Watson, 10. _ „ 4 Harl. MSS. 7001.

WILLIAM PENN. 137
This dispute was referred by common consent to William Penn.
The letters still extant show that Fenwick was at first dis
posed to resist the award made by the arbitrator ; but an
earnest rebuke from Penn, in which he spoke in noble and
affecting language of the meanness of such quarrels in face
of the great interests they professed to have at heart, brought
him to reason. "Thy grandchildren," said the expostulator
to his grasping client, "may be in the other world before the
land thou hast allotted will be employed."1
The parties, reconciled by these means, Fenwick, with his
own family and a number of other Quaker emigrants, set sail
in the ship G-riffith for New Jersey. These adventurers as
cended the Delaware a considerable distance, where finding a
fertile and pleasant spot of ground, they landed their goods
and chattels, and formed the germ of a settlement, calling their
town Salem ; for to their harrassed minds and bodies it seemed
in truth a place of peace and rest.2 Meantime Edward Byl
linge, left behind in England, became deeply involved in his
circumstances, and unable to meet the demands made on him,
his creditors grew clamorous, and at length compelled him to
surrender his property into the hands of trustees for their
benefit. But although obliged to give up the management of
his estate to others, his creditors, having appointed Gawen
Laurie of London, and Nicholas Lucas of Hertford, as trus
tees in their own behalf, allowed him to name one of his
own friends as a third trustee for the protection of his inter
ests ; and William Penn was the friend whom he solicited to
perform for him this important office. At first he was not
disposed to add so large a responsibility to those already
weighing heavily on his time and thoughts ; but on consider
ing that the principal part of the estate to be administered
was the New Jersey property, on which a number of Quakers
and other exiles for conscience' sake had already settled, to
whom his counsels would be serviceable, he consented to act.3
No sooner had he acquired the power which his new position
gave him, than a change of system was observed. Full of his
old dreams of a model state, and fresh from the study of
Harrington and More, he was not content to carry on the
1 Harl. MSS. 7001, contains the correspondence, with Fenwick's notes.
2 Watson's Annals, 11.
3 The heads of the Quaker party kept up a regular correspondence with
the colonists. Hazard's Penn. Reg. vi. 184 et seq.
12*

138 WILLIAM PENN.
government of the province as he found it, simply as a com
mercial venture, and without reference to the working out of
great ideas. The lessons of Algernon Sidney had made a
profound impression on the mind of the future lawgiver ; and
the constitution which his friend Locke had but a few years
before formed for Carolina, was open to him both as an in
citement and as a warning. These first attempts to lay the
foundations of a free colony for all mankind, to quote his own
words, were greatly obstructed by the fact of there being a
joint-ownership of the soil, as even within the limits prescribed
by law, the trustees of Edward Byllinge could only exercise
a semi-sovereignty while Sir George Carteret remained a co
partner. The object, then, which lay in front of every future
effort for the good of the settlers, was such a division of the
province, as should separate the share of Sir George from the
rest ; and this result was obtained by Penn after a trouble
some negociation, on giving up the best half of the estate to
the agents of the older proprietor, which henceforward was
known as the province of East New Jersey, — that retained
by the Quakers being called from its geographical position
West New Jersey. By these names the two provinces were
known for many years.1
This arrangement being completed and the trustees left with
power to deal with West New Jersey, they began their opera
tions by dividing the land, then a complete wilderness, into a
a hundred lots, ten of which were made over to John Fenwick
in lieu of all his claims for time, trouble and money expended
in the transactions with Lord Berkeley, and the other ninety
were put up on sale for the benefit of the creditors, whose
material interests being so provided for, Penn acquired still
greater power to carry out his own ideas in the great work of
settling the fundamental laws. As yet the mind of the legis
lator was itself in the process of formation. The counsels of
Harrington and the classic republicans still exercised a power
ful influence over his conceptions ; and it was not until some
years later that his own genius — aided by Algernon Sidney
— found its highest expression in the laws and charters of
the great province which bears his name. The constitutions
framed by the pilgrims who had sailed in the Mayflower were
however the more immediate types of his first efforts as a states-
1 Gordon's Hist, of Jersey,

WILLIAM PENN. 139
man ; he was too wise a man to trust so important a matter as
the regulation of a new society to the mere suggestions of
reason, unformed and unguided by experience, and he had
been too assiduous a reader of the classic writers not to have
learned to feel something of that Roman pride in free govern
ments which so eminently distinguished his great friend and
master.1 The outlines of the new constitution prepared for West New
Jersey by William Penn may be given in a few words : — the
rights of free worship were secured (this was always the first
point with the Puritan emigrants) — the legislative power was
given in a great measure to the people, who were to elect their
representatives, not in the old way of acclamation, but by the
ballot-box, every man of mature age and free from crime being
an elector and eligible for .election — the executive power was
vested in ten commissioners, to be appointed by the general
assembly — the office of interpreting the law and pronouncing
verdicts was confided to the juries, as Penn had contended
was the case in England by the ancient charters ; and the
judges, elected for , only two years at the utmost and always
removable, sat in the courts simply to assist the juries in arriv
ing at a correct decision — the State was made to charge itself
with the education of all orphan children, and no man was to
be shut up in prison for debt ; his estate having been seized
for the benefit of his creditors, the unfortunate was encouraged
to try again : by these simple provisions, and the laws which
were to be enacted in accordance with the general principles
so laid down, Penn believed he had laid a foundation for those
who came after him to understand their liberties as men and
as Christians, and by observing which they could never be
brought into bondage except by their own consent — the whole
power of the State being placed in charge of the people !2
While engaged with these new and important duties, Penn
removed his place of residence from the neighborhood of Rick
mansworth, in Hertfordshire, to Worminghurst, in Sussex.3
Less occupied at the moment with travelling and controversy
than with the practical organization of states and the princi-
1 Letters to Algernon Sidney, 1679-1681. See chapters vi. and vii.
2 See Smith's New Jersey, 528 et seq.
3 Lady Springett's MS. Autobiography. She visited the Penns at Worm
inghurst in the autumn of 1676, and on the 30th of September had the re
markable dream referred to in a former note,

140 WILLIAM PENN.
pies round which human societies form themselves, he required
a home more free from interruption than his old house, which
had gradually become the head-quarters and rendezvous of
the Quaker body. To obtain this retirement, needed for sober
and continued thought, he removed to Sussex, where in peace
ful and profound tranquillity he worked out and perfected his
scheme of government for West New Jersey. Guli's mother
and father-in-law spent a portion of the summer and autumn of
1676 with them at 'their new house, and Isaac Pennington —
the friend of Milton — possibly assisted in drawing up his rela
tion's maiden constitution.1
As soon as this important document was finished; the trus
tees met together and resolved on its immediate publication
in the shape of a public letter, which they signed and circulated
in every part of the country, but more especially among the
members of their own church. To the letter was added a
description of the soil, air, climate, natural productions, and
other features of the new settlements ; and it is characteristic
of Penn that he added a cautionary postscript to his country
men against indulging, without sufficient cause, in the thought
of seeking for a new home — of leaving their native land out
of curiosity, from a love of change, or in the mere spirit of
cupidity. Yet Worminghurst was soon besieged with applica
tions for plots of land in the new Free Colony, and this tes
timony to the merits of his plan encouraged the legislator
to renewed efforts. Two large companies were immediately
formed to establish trade and promote emigration, one in York
shire, the other in Middlesex. The members of the York
shire company were chiefly creditors of Byllinge ; and as a
set-off against all their claims, they received from the trustees
ten of the original hundred parts into which the province had
been divided. By cancelling these debts the property was
gradually retrieved from its embarrassments, and its managers
acquired a greater freedom of action.2
The purchasers of these lands beginning at once to make
preparations for the voyage, Penn's attention was drawn to
the evident necessity which would arise for a governing body.
Before there was as yet a people in West New Jersey, he saw
that it was desirable to have an authority, legally constituted,
to conduct the enterprise ; and with this view he proposed to
1 Lady Springett's MS. Autobiography. 2 Besse, 50.

WILLIAM PENN. 141
institute a provisional government — himself selecting some of
its members, Fenwick's party and the two companies nomi
nating the others. This being agreed to, Thomas Olive and
Daniel Wills were appointed to act as commissioners by the
London company ; Joseph Helmsly and Robert Stacey by the
Yorkshire proprietors ; Richard Guy was named on behalf of
the former emigrants, and to these were added Benjamin Scott,
John Kinsey and three others. These persons were to exer
cise the powers of the ten commissioners as defined in the
fundamental laws until such time as a popular government,
chosen in a legal and orderly way, could be organized, where
upon their functions were to cease.1
Since the sailing of the Mayflower no event had occurred
of so much interest to the Republicans of England. William
Penn took a great deal of pains in organizing the emigration,
and engaged the good ship Kent, Gregory Marlow, master,
to carry out the commissioners, their families and tenants, to
the number of two hundred and thirty persons. The vessel
was moored high up in the Thames ; at the hour fixed for her
departure the emigrants went on board accompanied by their
friends ; and the master was just on the point of weighing
anchor, amid the tears and embraces of relatives about to part
forever, when a light and gilded barge was seen rapidly gliding
over the smooth waters towards them. Something in the ap
pearance of the Kent had evidently attracted the attention
of its luxurious occupants, for the boatmen, now seen to be
attired in the royal livery, used their oars as if they had
been ordered to come alongside. It was the King. In a
few moments the graceful libertine called to ask the name of
the ship and whither it was bound. On his question being
answered, he asked if the emigrants were all Quakers, to which
they answered yes, whereupon he gave them, as Clarkson says,
his blessing, — and so the monarch and subjects parted, — he
to continue his low amours and his viler hypocrisies, they to
plant a new spiritual democracy in the wilderness of the west.
Each to his work !
Two other vessels soon followed the Kent; one of them
sailed from Hull with a body of emigrants from Yorkshire,
the other from London freighted with a hundred and fourteen
persons from the northern counties. When the new comers
1 Gordon's Hist. New Jersey.

142 WILLIAM PENN.
arrived at their destination, Andros, the governor of New
York, claimed jurisdiction over them and their territory, justi
fying his claim by reference to the feudal law and the colonial
charters ; but both parties fortunately were moderate in their
tone, and while the question of rights was referred to the
mother country, the Quakers entered into treaties with the
aborigines for the purchase of their lands, and under a sail
cloth, set up in the forest of Burlington, began to assemble
for public worship.1 The native tribes came from their hunt
ing-grounds to confer with these peaceful strangers, who car
ried purses in their hands to pay for what they required,
instead of muskets to seize on it by force. "You are our
brothers," said the Sachem chiefs, after hearing their proposals,
" and we will live like brothers with you. We will have a
broad path for you and us to walk in. If an Englishman falls
asleep in this path, the Indian shall pass him by and say — he
is an Englishman ; he is asleep ; let him alone. The path shall
be plain. There shall not be in it a stump to hurt the feet."2
Commenced under these promising auspices, West New Jersey
soon exhibited an extraordinary degree of prosperity. Land
was sold and cultivated. The Sachems remained on the whole
friendly. The population multiplied in peace. Several deeply
interesting letters written by the leaders of their party in
England to these happy colonists are still extant, and from
these it would be inferred that in a very few years West New
Jersey had become a new Arcadia — that Penn had realized
in practice the State which Sidney had conceived and Har
rington had dreamed I'
ll aving at length got these American affairs into a favorable
state, Penn turned his thoughts towards the continent of Eu
rope. He had many correspondents in Holland and on the
Rhine : and in the cities formerly visited by him the congre
gations which had arisen implored him to return, if only for
a brief season, and afford them once more the benefit of his
wisdom and the example of his enthusiasm. Many members
of the churches which he had raised abroad had fallen on evil
tongues and evil days; some were suffering from the secret
1 When reminded that their charter gave them none of the liberties they
claimed, they declared themselves free-born Englishmen, and appealed to the
great charter of rights. Gordon's New Jersey, 47.
2 Smith's New Jersey, 100.
3 This correspondence is preserved in Hazard's Register.

WILLIAM PENN. 143
hostility of their feudal lords ; others were living under the
shade of persecution in gaols and madhouses : all these men
hoped for some consolation in his presence, and not a few were
anxious to hear from his own lips of that New Land which
he was said to be preparing beyond the sea, where it would
not be a crime to worship God according to the dictates of
conscience. To these he had now a message full of hope.
Feeling a strong regard for the sedate and sober virtues of
the German artisans, he was himself anxious to offer them an
asylum in the province.1 His friends at Herwerden also pressed
him to pay them another visit; and the Princess Elizabeth
especially urged her " affectionate friend " to come over to her
court, now that his colonial concerns weighed less heavily on
his time and cares.
All his preparations being made for this new journey, he
left his family at Worminghurst, and proceeded to Harwich,
where he found George Fox, Robert Barclay, and several
other friends, awaiting his arrival.2 Provided with a huge as
sortment of books and tracts, explanatory of Quaker doc
trines, and printed in various languages, English, French,
Dutch, and German,3 they took their passage in a vessel
which happened to be commanded by one of the admiral's
former officers, who, out of affection for the son of his old
patron, was particularly attentive to the comforts of his pas
sengers, and even allowed them to convert his quarter-deck
into a conventicle. When they came in sight of the Brill,
Penh and Barclay, anxious to arrive at the town before night
fall, got into a small boat and pulled for shore ; but before
they could land, the sun had gone down, — the gates were
closed, — and there being no houses at that time outside the
fortified walls, they had to make their bed in a fisherman's
boat.4 Early next morning the passengers all landed at the
Brill, and started immediately for Rotterdam, where they
held large meetings of their Christian friends, — Penn speak
ing in Dutch, while the eloquence of George Fox, and other
illiterate missionaries, had to be interpreted, word for word,
by a native Quaker,5 — "the Gospel was preached, the dead
were raised, and the living were comforted," such was the
1 Province of Pennsylvania, by Franz Pastorius (one of the original Ger
man emigrants). Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 103.
2 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 52. 3 Ibid i. 59.
4 Fox, 433. s Ibid.

144 WILLIAM PENN.
ardent language in which Penn described the results of these
gatherings of the newly-converted ! Men's minds were at
this time profoundly unsettled, and hyperbole is the natural
language of enthusiasm. This visit of the three great apos
tles of Quakerism to Rotterdam, seems to have made a great
sensation ; scholars, merchants, government officers, and the
general public, crowded every meeting to hear them preach,
and the houses of the most noble and learned men in the city
of Van der Werf and Erasmus, were thrown open to them
freely.1 They learned that meetings had been prepared for
them in all the towns along their routes, and three Dutch
converts, Claus, Arents, and Bocliffs came to them from Am
sterdam, to conduct them on their way, in the name of the
faithful congregations on the Zuyder Zee. At Leyden, and
at Haarlem, where they held meetings and spread abroad a
knowledge of their tenets, other deputies, from Alchmaer and
Embden, met them with welcomes and invitations. Their
journey through the country was like a prolonged ovation.2
At Amsterdam they organized the scattered congregations
of Quakers in Holland, and settled some of the nicer points
of practical doctrine — such as the non-necessity for priest
or magistrate, as a witness to the ceremony of marriage.3
Another matter which came prominently before them, was
the sufferings of their disciples for conscience' sake, in va
rious countries, and more especially the case of certain in
habitants of Dantzic, which city then formed a part of the
great Polish republic. The heroic John Sobieski, King of
Poland, was at the time on a visit to Dantzic, and William
Penn, trusting in the chivalric character of the prince, ad
vised that a petition should be presented to him, in the name
of the suffering citizens, briefly detailing their wrongs and
their opinions, and asking at his hands the free right to wor
ship God according to their faith. This petition he was de
sired to draw up, which he did in suitable and noble terms,
quoting, most happily, a saying of King Stephen, one of
Sobieski's most illustrious predecessors — "I am king of men,
but not of consciences : king of bodies, not of souls," and
making this the text of his powerful and yet courteous re
monstrance.4 1 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 52. 2 Fox, 334.
3 Penn's Works, i. 53.
4 See the Letter at length in his Coll. Works, i. 53.

WILLIAM PENN. 145
Leaving George Fox at Amsterdam, Penn and Barclay
continued their journey to Herwerden, where they were
warmly welcomed by the Electress. This noble and pious
woman, daughter of Frederick, Prince Palatine of the Rhine,
and King of Bohemia, was the grand-daughter of our James
the First, and consequently first cousin to the reigning King
of England, and sister to Prince Rupert — the old rival and
enemy of Admiral Penn.1 Our interest in the friendly inter
course of the princess and her visitor, is considerably en
hanced by a knowledge of this fact. The princess treated
Penn with uniform courtesy and affection, from the moment
of their first acquaintance to the day of her death : his grati
tude and respect long survived its object ; and in one of the
subsequent editions of his " No Cross, No Crown," he incor
porated her name with his noble list of benefactors and ex
amples to mankind.2 In his former visit to the court of
Elizabeth, some years before, the missionary had made a
deep impression, not only on her own mind, but likewise on
that of her friend and companion, the Countess de Homes.
This had led to correspondence, and to the visits of other
Quaker preachers, male and female, Dutch and English, par
ticularly of Robert Barclay, the famous apologist, whose
learning and moderation had enabled him to appeal with
great effect to the ready intelligence of these accomplished
women.3 Penn and Barclay stayed at the ordinary inn of the town,
but visited the court daily, holding meetings and discoursing
before her highness on the great principles of their creed.
They dined at the common table of their hotel, where they
met with many strangers, to whom they distributed books
and tracts. One of these strangers, a young man, who had
come in by the post-wagon from Bremen, was a student at
the college of Duysburgh ; and in the course of conversation
he told them there was a " sober and seeking man, of great
note in the city of Duysburgh," which information deter
mined Penn to pay a visit to that place. The meetings at
the palace were characteristic of the time ; and the effect of
their discourses on the audience seems to have been over
powering. When the last service drew to a close, Elizabeth
1 Genealogies of the royal family. 2 Collected Works, i. 430-1
3 Elizabeth to Penn, May 2, 1677. 13

146 WILLIAM PENN.
walked up to Penn, took him by the hand affectionately, and
offering to lead him aside, began to speak of the sense she
had of God's power and presence ; but emotion choked her
utterance, and she sobbed out — " I cannot speak to you, my
heart is full!" In a gentle tone Penn whispered some few
words of consolation in her ear. When she recovered the use
of her voice, she pressed the missionaries to visit her again on
their return from the Upper Rhine. Penn promised to do so
if they found it possible. She then tried to detain them- to
sup with her that evening, which they at first refused ; but
the lady would not be denied this gratification, and they com
promised the matter by having bread and wine served in the
room in which their religious service had been held. " So
we left them," says Penn, "in the love and peace of God,
praying that they might be kept from the evil of this world."1
Early next morning Robert Barclay set out to join George
Fox at Amsterdam, |while William Penn and George Keith
took their places in an open cart for Frankfort-on-the-Maine,
to travel in this way a distance of two hundred miles. Pur
suing their tedious journey through Paderborn, " a dark
Popish city," and Cassel, where they were "tenderly re
ceived," obstructed by the heavy rains, bad roads, and their
primitive vehicle, they arrived in Frankfort just a week after
leaving Herwerden. About three miles from that famous
city, they were met by two merchants who had come forth to
welcome them and report the spiritual condition of their fel
low-citizens, many of whom, they said, were prepared to re
ceive the new faith. Doctors, lawyers, ministers of the
Gospel, noble ladies, peasants and handworkers, crowded to
hear the young preacher. One enthusiastic girl, in the true
spirit of a martyr courting persecution, cried out^— " It will
never be well with us until persecution come, and some of us
be lodged in the stadthouse," — the prison. But with all his
fervor, Penn did not neglect the temporal liberties and
worldly interests of his people. The affairs of America was
a topic of frequent and earnest conversation; and among
those who took a deep interest in the preacher's scheme of
colonization were Von Dewalle, Dr. Schiitz, Franz Pastorius,
and Daniel Behagel, all of whom emigrated in a few years.2
1 Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 63.
2 Franz Pastorius, in Penn. Hist. Soc. Memoirs, iv. 101.

WILLIAM PENN. 147
From the imperial city Penn addressed a long letter to " the
Churches of Jesus throughout the world," in which he spoke
the language of an apostle, exhorting the faithful to take up
the cross boldly, to beware of the lust of the eye and the
pride of life, to redeem the time, not vainly striving to heap
the dross that perisheth, but content to do good, and be found
useful in their day and generation.1
Continuing their tour slowly along the Upper Rhine, the
travellers passed through Worms on the fifth day, and in the
evening arrived at Kirchheim — a small town about six miles
from Worms, in the territory of Pfalzgrave. At this obscure
place the missionary made a most powerful impression upon
his hearers. People came in from the surrounding country ;
and one of his meetings was attended by the governor, and
by the chief minister of the Lutheran church from Worms.
The fruits of this day's preaching are still visible in Penn
sylvania. The home of which he told them beyond the seas,
was hardly less welcome to the Protestant democrats of
Kirchheim than that better home which he promised them be
yond the skies. The hopes thrown out were readily received
by these true lovers of freedom ; the more ardent began to
quit their country in search of vessels to convey them to this
land of promise, the more cautious to make preparation,
quietly and safely, for the intended journey. In the new
country for which they sailed, in a few years, they won for
themselves an imperishable reputation, as the first colonists
from the old world who boldly declared it unlawful for Chris
tian men to buy or to hold n,egro slaves ! 2
But Penn seems to have been anxious to do something at
once for the relief and protection of this little handful of true
believers, and with this view went to Mannheim to consult
with the Palatine and ascertain what encouragement that
prince would afford to a colony of virtuous and industrious
families, in the event of a considerable number being willing
to remove into his territory, — as also to learn how they would
stand in respect to their refusal to take oaths, bear arms, and
pay ecclesiastical taxes. This idea was probably a mere sug
gestion of the moment ; for on his arrival at Mannheim, find
ing the prince gone to Heidelberg, he contented himself with
1 Collected Works, i. 65.
2 Bettle in the Penn. Hist. Soc. Memoirs, ii. 365.

148 WILLIAM PENN.
writing a letter to his highness, and returned to Worms that
evening by the river.1
From this place they dropped down the stream to Cologne,
the rank Popery of which city, like that of its sister near
the confluence of the Maine, alarmed and horrified them.
Here they met their disciples at the house of a merchant, who
at their departure furnished them with a letter of introduction
to Dr. Mastricht of Duysburgh, which city they were now
anxious to visit, not only on account of what the student had
told them at Herwerden, but because they had been informed
by the Princess Elizabeth that the young and beautiful Coun
tess von Falchenstein und Bruch, whose father resided in that
neighborhood, was seriously inclined.2 Her they also wished
to see. Even an apostle's heart is not without the romantic
instincts !3
Duysburgh, a Calvinistic city, lay in the territory of the
Elector of Brandenburg. On their arrival they sought out
Dr. Mastricht, and delivered their letter. He told them they
were very fortunate in the time of their visit, as it being
Sunday, the young Countess would have left her father's cas
tle and crossed the river to Mulheim, where she would, as
usual, spend the remainder of the day at the clergyman's
house. He cautioned them, however, not to make themselves
public — as much for the young lady's sake as for their own, —
as her father, a coarse and rigorous person, was already very
severely displeased with her on account of the serious turn of
her mind. Thus warned, they set out on foot to trudge the
six miles to Mulheim ; but on their way they met with one
Heinrich Schmidt, a schoolmaster, who informed them that
the Countess had just returned, but undertook to let her know
of their arrival in Duysburg. To him they gave a letter
which they had obtained from Dr. Mastricht, and with this
missile he departed, leaving them waiting by the orchard of
the Graf for his return. In about an hour he came back, to
say the Countess would be glad to see them, but knew not
where she could do so, as her father kept so strict a hand
over her. She rather inclined to think it would be best for
them to cross the water and go to the house of her friend the
clergyman. While they were talking, the Graf with his at-
1 Penn to the Elector Palatine. Coll. works, i. 72.
2 Elizabeth to Penn, September 14th, 1677.
3 Travels in Germany and Holland, i. 78.

WILLIAM PENN. 149
tendants came forth from the castle, and seeing persons in a
foreign dress standing near the gate, sent one of his retinue
to inquire who they were, what they wanted, and whither they
were going. Before he could receive his answers, he walked
up and put the same interrogatories in person. Penn replied,
they were Englishmen come from Holland, and were going no
farther than to his own town of Mulheim ; on hearing which
answer, one of the Graf's gentlemen went up to the strangers
with a frown on his face, and asked them if they knew before
whom they stood ; and if they had not yet learned how to
deport themselves before noblemen and in the presence of
princes ? Penn answered he was not aware of having been
guilty of any disrespect or unseemly behavior. "Then why
don't you take off your hats?" said one of them sharply. "Is
it respectful to stand covered in the presence of the sovereign
of the country ?" The Quakers took no notice of the angry
gesture with which this remark was accompanied, but replied
civilly that' it was their practice in their own country, before
their own prince, who was a great king ; that they uncovered
to none but God. "Well then," said the petty prince, "get
out of my dominions ; you shall not go to my town." Penn
tried to reason with the offended majesty of Mulheim ; his
only answer was to call a company of soldiers, to whom he
gave orders to Conduct them out of his territory, as if they
had been the vilest vagabonds.1
It was now the dusk of evening, and they were alone in a
strange land ; for after conducting them to a thick forest, the
soldiers returned to the castle and left them to find their own
way back to Duysburg. The forest was three miles in length,
and the roads being unknown to them and the night dark, it
was only after wandering hither and thither, and with great
toil and difficulty, that they contrived to escape from beneath
its huge and sombre shadows. At length, however, they
emerged into the open country, and soon found themselves
under the walls pf the city. Here a worse misfortune awaited
them. It was near ten o'clock — and all the gates were shut !
In vain they hailed the sentinels ; in vain they implored ad
mission ; no city in the Elector's dominions was more strictly
guarded that night. What made their case so bad was the
fact that the town had no suburbs ; not a single house or
1 Penn to the Graf, September 3, 1677.
13*

150 WILLIAM PENN.
building stood beyond the fortifications. They were compelled
therefore to lie down in an open field in search of such repose
as they might find on the marshy ground of the Lower Rhine
in September. At three in the morning they got up, stiff
with cold, and walked about until five, comforting each other
with the assurance that a great day for Germany was nigh at
hand, " several places in that country being almost ripe for
the harvest" — reflections very natural and consoling in their
situation. Soon after the cathedral clock had struck five, the
soldiers opened the gates, and the wanderers returned to their
inn apparently none the worse for their night's adventures.1
At Duysburg they learned something more of the Graf von
Falchenstein. Mastricht was "surprised with fear (the com
mon disease of this country)," says Penn, when he heard of
the rencontre. With the anxiety of a friend, he inquired
minutely what had passed ; and was greatly relieved when he
found they had been prudent enough not to name the Coun
tess. Men like Penn and Fox might smile at pain and perse
cution, but she was a young girl, with the weaknesses of
woman, and in the power of a jealous tyrant.2 For themselves
he thought they had escaped pretty well, as the Graf usually
amused himself by setting his dogs to worry, or his soldiers
to beat persons who were found loitering about the castle as
they had been; but the Englishman took another view of the
case, and before he slept wrote and sent off to his grace a
manly and indignant remonstrance.3
Penn failed in his efforts to see the young Countess ; but
he had the satisfaction to receive from her an affectionate
message by the hand of her page. In return he wrote to her
a long letter of spiritual consolation, for he had become deeply
interested in her case, and his royal friend at Herwerden had
told him that it would be of considerable use to her own
family peace to have the two pastors of Mulheim disabused
of some prejudices which they entertained against Quaker
doctrines.4 And so he departed.
Slowly dropping down the Rhine — proclaiming their double
mission in all towns and preparing a way for future emigra
tion — the travellers at length arrived at Amsterdam.5 There
' Travels into Germany and Holland, i. 80. 2 Ibid. i. 84.
3 Penn to the Graf, September 3, 1677.
4 Elizabeth to Penn, September 14th, 1677.
6 The only curious event of this journey was the conversion of an "attor
ney to a living sense of the truth." Travels into Germany and Holland, 86.

WILLIAM PENN. 151
they fffund that George Fox had gone to Harlingen, whither
Penn followed him ; and so they stayed in Holland and in the
countries about the Elbe and the Lower Rhine until the winter
set in, when they again returned to England, by way of Rot
terdam and Harwich. On the passage home they encountered
a violent storm. They were at sea three days and two nights ;
the rain fell in torrents ; the hail beat heavily against their
frail canvas ; the wind set in dead against them ; the vessel
sprang a leak ; and the most incessant labor at the pumps,
night and day, could hardly keep the hold from filling. Great
fear fell on the superstitious minds of the seamen ; but on the
peril passing away they soon resumed their usual wantonness
of spirit, — very much to the horror and annoyance of the
Quakers who were on board.1
Fox and other Quakers, when they landed at Harwich,
proposed to hold a series of meetings in that town, and then
going by Colchester and other places make their way slowly
towards London. But Penn's thoughts were now with Guli
and his ,young family at Worminghurst, and while his friends
were willing to travel luxuriously in a cart bedded with straw,
he mounted the best horse he could find and rode on his way.2
Arriving at home after an absence of just a hundred days, he
was delighted to find his wife and children in good health and
spirits, and his gratitude broke forth in the simple and sublime
language of the sacred writings.3
For three weeks he had remained at home in the bosom of
his family, when the affairs of New Jersey again demanded
his presence in London. Inquiries now crowded in upon him
from every part of the country with respect to the new terri
tory. Under his auspices, several shiploads of emigrants
went out from Deal and from Hull ; and although the man
agement of the colony was only in part in his hands, yet such
was the confidence reposed in his integrity and wisdom, that
more than eight hundred persons of sober, industrious, and
wealthy families had quitted England for the province during
the few months which had elapsed since he undertook the task
of its government. Under these multiplying labors his health
began to fail ; the anxiety of mind also weighed heavily upon
his spirits ; and all Guli's care was needed to prevent him
1 Penn's Travels, &c. i. 114 ; Fox's Journal, 454.
2 Fox's Journal, 455. 3 Penn's Travels, i. 116.

152 WILLIAM PENN.
from falling into a seriously low and listless mood.1 His at
tention to cojonial matters was not, however, interrupted by
ill health ; even during a short sojourn which he made in
Buckinghamshire, a county for which he ever retained a pe
culiar fondness,2 he allowed himself no relaxation from these
important duties. These events were the successive stages by
which the crowning act of his life was reached — the foundation
of his own colony of Pennsylvania.

CHAPTER VI.
1678-1680.
ALGERNON SIDNEY.
At this period of his life Penn lived much in the world,
and was received with distinction by nearly all sorts and con
ditions of men: His position was indeed an uncommon one.
Standing aloof from all intrigues in that most intriguing of
courts ; taking no direct or personal part in politics ; a candi
date for no office ; undesirous of any honor or emolument
which courts can bestow; accustomed from his youth to mix
freely and on equal terms with the best society ; acquainted-
with all the leading spirits of the day, yet possessed by none
of their eager ambition or devouring lust of pleasure ; no
man's rival in love, business, or gallantry, — his perfect neu
trality as to the great' objects of personal and party strife,
secured, to him a larger share of intercourse with leading men
than perhaps any other individual of the time enjoyed. In
the good graces of the King, and particularly favored by the
Duke of York, it was easy for him to maintain a high stand
ing with the wits, ministers, and favorites who daily thronged
the. galleries of Whitehall ; while beyond that circle he en
joyed the confidence of men whom no royal blandishments
could win. Not only was he intimate with the catholic Duke
of Ormonde, and his equally noble sons, the Earl of Ossory
and the Lord Arran, but also with the champion of Protestant
1 Penn to Margaret Fox, January 8, 1678. MS.
2 Ibid. George Fox's daughter had been staying with the Penns, and bore
this letter to her mother.

WILLIAM PENN. 153
doctrine, the pious and the gentle Tillotson.1 His genius and
his virtues were equally appreciated by the Whig William
Lord Russell, the Tory Lord Hyde, and the Republican Al
gernon Sidney.2 Of other men with whom he lived on terms
of greater or less intimacy at this time, — there were the Duke
of Buckingham, the Earl of Shaftesbury, the Marquis of
Halifax, the Earl of Sunderland, Lord Essex, Lord Churchill,
and many other distinguished rakes, writers, courtiers, and
members of parliament. Some surprise may be felt that a
man of Penn's character — the leader of an unworldly and
ascetic body of religious enthusiasts, should be found living
in a state of easy intercourse with persons like George Villiers
and Anthony Ashley Cooper. It must be recollected that
his youth had been passed with court gallants, with wits and
noble gentlemen. No harshness had ever mixed itself with
his graver moods. Even at the time when he first changed
his religious views, he had exhibited no morbid dislike to his
old companions ; he still retained his natural gaiety and
sprightliness of manner ; like his father, the admiral, he en
joyed a joke, and that he talked admirably we know on no
less an authority than that of Swift.3 If he appeared to
avoid his early friends, it was not their persons which he dis
liked, but their vices aud frivolities. In his idea, a religious
man need not shun the street, the drawing-room, the market
place ; and he felt it was his duty as an individual to live in,
if not of, the world. But he had greater objects in view in
retaining that place in society which his birth and early for
tunes had given him : some of these old and powerful friends
were already inclined to adopt his views on the great subject
of Toleration to Opinion : the Duke of Buckingham especially
seemed disposed to support a more liberal policy in parlia
ment ; and Penn labored assiduously to induce him to devote
his splendid talents and commanding influence to effect this
great national reform.4 Under his influence and advice the
duke made more than one attempt to force the subject on the
attention of an unwilling legislature ; but the Church party
was too wary to be surprised and too powerful to be over
thrown at a single onset ; and then a new face, a fresh whim,
a fit of the spleen, would distract the ducal thoughts, and the
1 Tillotson Correspondence in Penn's Works, i. 127-9.
2 Furly Correspondence, 84. 3 Swift's note to Burnet, iii. 140.
4 Penn to a Friend. Clarkson, ii. 57.

154 WILLIAM PENN.
great business fall into complete neglect. Sunderland, Hali
fax, and Cavendish wavered in opinion with the gusts of po
pular feeling, or changed their views as the events of the
political world suggested to be prudent : in the Duke of York
alone of those about the King's person Penn found a stead
fast friend to Liberty of Conscience. No doubt personal in
terests, and even personal fears, had their share in producing
this constancy of his royal highness ; but his ward had no
right to pry into his secret motives — and he had no means of
judging of his ulterior designs. The prince invited his con
fidence by gracious words and acts of kindness : and Penn
readily availed himself of the royal favor to obtain pardon
for his non-conforming brethren when they fell under perse
cution, and to urge on the great work of securing an Act of
Toleration from the House of Commons.1
But the family with which he at this time cherished the
most intimate relations was that of Sidney. With the several
members of this eminent and gifted race he lived on friendly
terms. Though estranged from each other, they reposed con
fidence in him — appealed to his wisdom in their difficulties,
and sometimes placed their interests under his care and guar
dianship.2 Towards Henry Sidney — Earl of Romney under
the Prince of Orange — a man somewhat younger than him
self, he retained an affection which had commenced in early
life, but which rather resembled the regard a strong character
will sometimes contract for an amiable and petted child than
arose out of any serious sympathy of manhood and its opi
nions.3 To his brother Algernon he was at once a friend and
a disciple.4 The difference between the two Sidneys was striking.
Henry was nearly twenty years younger than his illustrious
brother. He had seen but little of the best period of the
Revolution, and had never known the purer and more mode
rate of its champions. Gifted by nature with a handsome
face and a voluptuous imagination, he had easily taken up the
courtly habits which he found in fashion when he entered life.
While yet in his teens he was noted for his gallantries ; and
being handsome, amiable, and a rake, was of course a favorite
1 Phil. Friend, vi. 257. 2 Furly Correspondence, 84, 89, 95.
3 Diary and Correspondence of Henry Sidney, Earl of Romney, ii. 194,
&c. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 1.
4 Sidney to Furly, April 13 ; August 19, &c.

WILLIAM PENN. 155
with the ladies of his family.1 Loose in his morals, and pro
fessing no political heresies, he made his way rapidly in a
court where to cheat at cards and seduce your friend's wife
were not thought inconsistent with the character of a man of
honor.2 In this school he was an apt scholar. Undaunted
by ordinary difficulties, he set no limit to his pleasures, and
the royal family itself did not escape the scandal of his
amours. Appointed master of the horse to the Duchess of
York, he was soon found to be engaged in a criminal, intrigue
with his royal mistress, mother of two of the future sove
reigns of England.3 A violent scene between the Duke and
Duchess led to his banishment from the court.4 When he
returned he was a more cautious if not a wiser man. At his
house, Penn was a frequent visitor ; and there he met with
his old Paris friend Robert Spencer — the son of Sidney's
sister, Lady Dorothy, the Sacharissa of Waller's Poems —
now Earl of Sunderland, and one of the most stirring in
triguers of his day — and with other persons high in influence
and office, whom it was his duty to see in relation to his pri
vate affairs or in the interests of the Quaker body. True,
however, to his old weakness, Sidney could not refrain from
making love to his nephew's wife ;5 the delinquents kept up a
voluminous correspondence, and their amours were at this
very time the common gossip of the French and English
courts.6 Between such a man and his austere and noble brother
there could be, and there was, no sympathy, and but little
affection.7 In his infancy, Algernon Sidney had been remarka
ble for his great wit and natural sweetness of disposition.8 As
he grew up to manhood, the Roman virtues of his soul had
1 Blencoe's Sidnoy Papers, 274. Devonshire letters in Lady Russel's Cor
respondence, 334.
2 Grammont, 98, 99.
3 Pepys, iii. 123. "The duchess is fallen in love with her new master of
the horse, Harry Sidney." Nov. 17, 1665. At this time the royal brothers
were both in love with Mrs. Stewart. Eugh ! Ibid.
4 The scandalous story is told at length in Grammont, 274 et seq.
6 Lady Sunderland is said by Clarendon to be "as great a jade as ever
lived." Autobiography, ii. 189. Evelyn describes her as one of the best of
women, i. 653. How competent judges may disagree ! The Princess Anne
agreed with her grandfather. Letter to the Princess of Orange, March 20,
1688. 6 Barillon, July, 1678.
• Dalrymple, i. 339. Barillon says of Algernon—" II est fort mai avec son
frere, qui est on Hollande."
8 Collins' Sidney Papers, ii. 445.

156 WILLIAM PENN.
been fostered by a liberal education and the influence of com
manding events During the civil war he had distinguished
himself by his wisdom in the council and by his valor in the
field.1 A sincere republican, he had opposed the designs of
Cromwell with as ardent zeal as he had fought against the
King ; his country and his political convictions stood above
all private regards, and he had no more thought of submitting
to a military dictator than to an hereditary despot.2 He dis
agreed with his fellow-officers as to the policy of Charles'
trial and execution ; being attached to the old forms of Eng
lish judicial procedure, and satisfied moreover that his deposi
tion and banishment would meet the ends of justice and sound
policy better than the more violent course proposed.3 But
this prudent council was overruled by the more ardent spirits ;
when Algernon Sidney observed that by law no court could
try the crowned King, and that that court could try no man,
Cromwell replied — "I tell you, man, we will cut off his head
with the crown upon it."4 Thereupon he retired from the
scene to his paternal residence at Penshurst; and being abroad
at the Restoration,5 remained in exile rather than unsay a
single word of his stern and tried political faith. For seven
teen years he remained abroad, during which time his friends
made several efforts to obtain for him a pardon ; but as he
would concede nothing, and the Stuart princes were equally
unyielding, the negociations failed as often as they were at
tempted. The utmost that could be drawn from him — though
wasting away with privation and home-sickness — was a decla
ration to the effect that he was willing to submit to the King,
since Parliament had done so, but that he could on no account
regret what he had done, renounce any of his old opinions,
or ask a pardon.6 To those who would have had him distrust
the instincts which made him a wanderer and a beggar in a-
foreign land, he said very finely and nobly — "I walk in the
light God hath given me. If it be dim or uncertain, I must
bear the penalty of my errors. I hope to do it with patience,
and that no burden should be very grievous to me except sin
and shame ! God keep me from these evils, and in all things
else dispose of me according to His pleasure."7
1 Journal of the Earl of Leicester. 2 Collins' Sidney Papers, i. 152.
3 Blencoe's Sidney Papers. Appendix, with the note by Mackintosh.
4 Sidney to his Father. Blencoe's Sidney Papers, 237.
5 Letter to his father, in Blencoe.
6 Blencoe's Sidney Papers, 233. 7 Blencoe, 163.

WILLIAM PENN. 157
After an absence of seventeen years he was allowed to re
turn to his father's death-bed. When he again appeared in
society, Penn saw him frequently ; and they had many oppor
tunities of discussing his new schemes of colonization and his
theories of colonial government. A man with Sidney's large
views and ardent convictions could not long remain inactive.
The old men of the Commonwealth — the remnants of the great
Puritan party — Independents, Quakers, Brownists, and many
others — looked up to him as their leader.1 They were a van
quished body, but they had glorious traditions ; and whether
numerous or not in the country, they were unquestionably
powerful in London.2 Sidney never for a moment disguised
his preference of a republic to a monarchy ; but he was willing
to lend his services to bring about any minor changes in the
established government, in a liberal direction, — and the great
object of the men with whom he now acted was to obtain an
Act of Parliament giving Freedom to Conscience. The vanity
of Buckingham was flattered with the thought of being at the
head of this earnest body of reformers, but the acute agent of
the King of France saw how completely he was swayed by the
superior genius of Sidney.3
By the influence of these men an impression was soon pro
duced on the two Houses of Parliament ; and in the early part
of 1678 there had arisen a more friendly feeling towards Non
conformed.- The House of Commons no longer refused to
hear the grievances of Dissenters ; and Willam Penn having
presented a petition to that body on behalf of the suffering
Quakers, — against whom there existed no penal law, but who
had been maliciously confounded with the followers of Rome in
order to involve them in a common persecution, — a special
committee was named to inquire into the alleged facts, and to
see if it were not possible to relieve the great body of English
Protestants from the penalties which had been legally imposed
on Catholics. In March, William Penn was heard by this
committee, when he spoke as follows : —
" Gentlemen, — If we ought to believe that it is our duty,
1 If Sidney were well informed, there were a million of Non-conforniers at
this time in England. Collins' Sidney Papers, 101.
2 Barillon to Louis, December 5, 1680.
3 Ibid. Dorothy Sidney to Lord Halifax, July 8, 19. Buckingham boasted
to Barillon of his influence with the city and the Dissenters ; by their means,
he said, he could control the Government. Dalrymple i. 313.
14

158 WILLIAM PENN.
according to the doctrine of the Apostle, to be always ready
to give an account of the hope that is in us, to every sober and
private inquirer, certainly much more ought we to hold our
selves obliged to declare with all readiness when called to it
by so great an authority, what is not our hope ; especially
when our very safety is eminently concerned in so doing, and
when we cannot decline this discrimination of ourselves from
Papists without being conscious to ourselves of the guilt of our
own sufferings, for so must every man needs be, who suffers
mutely under another character than that which truly be
longeth to him and his belief. That which gives me a more
than ordinary right to speak at this time, and in this place,
is the great abuse which I have received above any other of
my profession ; for of a long time I have not only been sup
posed a Papist, but a Seminary, a Jesuit, an emissary of
Rome, and in pay from the Pope ; a man dedicating my en
deavors to the interest and advancements of that party. Nor
hath this been the report of the rabble, but the jealousy and
insinuation of persons otherwise sober and discreet. Nay,
some zealous for the Protestant religion have been so far gone
in this mistake, as not only to think ill of us, and to decline
our conversation, but to take courage to themselves to prose
cute us for a sort of concealed Papists ; and the truth is, we
have been as the wool-sacks and common whipping-stock of the
kingdom : all laws have been let loose upon us, as if the design
were not to reform, but destroy us ; and this not for what we
are, but for what we are not. It is hard that we must thus
bear the stripes of another interest, and be their proxy in pu
nishment. I would not be mistaken. I am far from thinking
it fit that Papists should be whipped for their consciences,
because I exclaim against the injustice of whipping Quakers
for Papists. No : for though the hand, pretended to be lifted
up against them, hath lighted heavily on us ; yet we do not
mean that any should take a fresh aim at them, or that they
should come in our room ; for we must give the liberty we ask ;
and cannot be false to our principles, though it were to relieve
ourselves. We have good will to all men, and would have none
suffer for a truly sober and conscientious dissent on any hand.
And I humbly take leave to add, that those methods against
persons so qualified do not seem to me to be convincing, or
indeed adequate to the reason of mankind; but this I submit
to your consideration. To conclude ; I hope we shall be held

WILLIAM PENN. 159
excused of the men of that (the Roman Catholic) profession
in giving this distinguishing declaration, since it is not with
design to expose them, but, first, to pay that regard we owe
to the inquiry of this Committee, and in the next place, to
relieve ourselves from the daily spoil and ruin which now at
tend and threaten many hundreds of families, by the execu
tion of laws which (we humbly conceive) were never made
against us."1
This speech contains a body of opinions rarely heard in
those days of strife and bitterness ; and never within the walls
of Westminster Palace. To doubt the policy of using force
with the Papist, was regarded in that age as something worse
than treason. No other sect had yet attained to such liber
ality of sentiment. The Church was possessed by a rampant
spirit of persecution ; the Catholic never pretended to be tole
rant in his own practice ; and Puritans, Independents, Pres
byterians, and Episcopalians had each appealed in turn to the
sword, the stocks, the prison, and the whipping-post.2 We give
to others the liberty we ask for ourselves ! — an extraordinary
sentiment to avow in that age. The committee resolved to
insert in the bill then before Parliament a clause providing
relief to the complaining parties. In this amended form the
bill passed the third reading in the lower House — was sent
under promising auspices to the Peers — and the friends of
toleration were already congratulating each other on their
first victory over the common enemies of liberty, when, from
an obscure and unexpected quarter, burst one of the most
tremendous storms which have ever swept the political atmo
sphere of England ; and in the general confusion Parliament
was prorogued, and the bill of exemption lost for years.
Titus Oates had been a minister of the Church of England
until his dissolute life caused him to be expelled from its com
munion. He had then joined the Roman Catholics,— -entered
the Jesuits' College at Valladolid, and afterwards removed to
that of St. Omer's — from both of which, however, he was
thrust out with indignity. In these renowned colleges he had
heard many conversations on the prospects of Catholicism in
England, and probably various suggestions for carrying on the
supposed good work of its reconversion to the old faith. Out
of the stock of materials thus obtained, an affluent imagination
enabled him to work up the grotesque and horrible concoction
1 Besse, i. 118. 2 Foulis' Hist, of Plots, &c. 222.

160 WILLIAM PENN.
known in history as the Popish Plot.1 He said he had been
trusted by the Jesuits in Spain and France with the convey
ance of certain letters and papers, — that he had opened these
documents out of idle curiosity, and so had become possessed
of their dark and terrible secrets. England, he asserted, was
about to be made the scene of a bloody drama. They intended
to kill the king. William of Orange was marked for assassi
nation. Even the Catholic Duke of York was not to be spared.
The price of these crimes had already been paid. Every true
Protestant was to be murdered. A French army was to land
in Ireland to support the movement ; and as soon as the re
formed faith was fairly put down, the whole country was to
be given up to the Jesuits.2 What the real facts underlying
these fables were, has never been discovered. That there was
a foundation of truth in the plot is probable in itself — was be
lieved by the calmest and wisest men of the time — and is neces
sary to explain the course of events. Algernon Sidney, than
whom no man in that age had a more thorough knowledge of
the Catholic courts, believed in the existence of a plot ;3 so did
William Penn ;4 so did Sir William Temple.5 The affair re
mains a mystery to this day.
The nation was unfortunately in a temper to receive with
eagerness any monstrous story of intrigue and conspiracy.
For some time past the fears of every good Protestant had
been fed with rumors of the royal apostacy; and the only
cordial friend of the reigning house, the King of France, was
well known to be a bigoted and intolerant Catholic. Some vague
idea had got abroad of the terms on which Louis supplied the
court so lavishly with money.6 Charles was suspected by many
of a secret leaning towards the religion of his wife and his
mistresses, and the Duke of York was an avowed and obsti
nate Catholic. Contrary to the wishes of Parliament, he had
married an Italian and a Papist ; should there be issue of this
alliance, there was a well-grounded fear that a line of Catholic
princes might succeed to the throne. The Protestant feeling
1 A true and exact Narrative of the horrid Plot and Conspiracy of the Popish
Party against the Life of his sacred Majesty, the Government, and the Pro
testant religion. London, 1678.
2 Ibid. 3 Sidney's Letters to Savile, 9 et eeq.
4 England's great interest in the choice of a new Parliament. Coll. Works,
ii- 678. ' Temple, ii. 491.
6 It is sickening to read the supplications base of Charles for money : always
selling his country ! Dalrymple, i. 320 et seq.

WILLIAM PENN. 161
of the country was alarmed ; and monstrous as was the story
told by Oates, it found a willing and believing audience. Find
ing the trade of informer in vogue, Bedloe, Dangerfield, and
other scoundrels, brought out newer and more astounding
revelations.1 The wiser people only laughed at these wretched
impostors ; but the affair of Coleman and the murder of God
frey gave such a coloring to the charge, as convinced the
country that some act of unimaginable atrocity had been in
contemplation, and made it dangerous to express in public a
doubt as to the existence of the great conspiracy. Leading
men, seeing the uses to which a panic might be turned in aid
of their private ambition, affected to g^ve it entire credence ;
and the astute Earl of Shaftesbury, from the first hour of its
birth, took the plot under his especial protection. Danby also
favored it from political and personal motives. It wanted not
the countenance of men high in rank and office : " Whether
given us by the right or left hand of Providence matters not,"
said one deeply interested in its success.2 It was a god-send
to politicians ; and because it served their purposes it was al
lowed, to pursue its fearful course, though it sent a host of
innocent men to the scaffold, and carried desolation into thou
sands of happy families.
Distrusting Danby and aware of the tendencies of court
opinion, Penn and Sidney were anxious to have the pretended
plot thoroughly sifted, probably expecting that some of the
royal intrigues, and especially the secret articles of the treaty
of Dover, might come to light in the course of inquiry. This
was the general feeling of republicans. They knew that the
king was closely connected with the Catholic movement and
with the designs of the Jesuits ; and had the truth come out
at once, he would have lost his credit with the nation forever.
Charles himself believed — to a greater extent perhaps than
was actually the case — that the attack on Popery was in re
ality an attack on royalty.3
The Commonwealth men, a powerful party, at whose head
Sidney and Penn now stood conspicuously before the world,4
silently but actively prepared for the future. Foreseeing that
1 These narratives are collected into a volume, B. M.
2 Settle. "A Narrative." Ibid.
3 Barillon to Louis. Dalrymple, i. 288.
4 Barillion tells his master that Penn and Sidney are " a la tete d'un
forte grande parti." Dal. i. 282. 14*

162 WILLIAM PENN.
the intrigues of Danby and Montague would lead to a disso
lution of Parliament, Algernon began to look about for a
seat, and to prepare the constituencies for a more liberal and
enlightened public polity. Penn himself could not so far re
nounce the opinions of his sect as to think of entering the
House of Commons, but he was deeply concerned for the
success of his friend and colleague. He took up his pen and
wrote three most excellent addresses. One of them was to his
own body of religionists. Fearing, in the general consterna
tion, lest some might be led astray, he exhorted them not to
be drawn out of their sober course, by rumors of plots and
conspiracies, but to stand aloof, discharging their duties, in
the perilous times which were at hand, as men and as Chris
tians.1 This done, he wrote an elaborate and masterly ad
dress to Protestants of every denomination on the existing
crisis, and a brief tract, entitled " England's Great Interest
in the Choice of a New Parliament ;" the latter being more
especially composed with a view to promote the choice of wise
and liberal members at the approaching elections. In the
first he reviewed the moral question. He began by showing
the fallacy of vicarious virtue. If the people would be ho
nestly governed, they must be honest themselves. Vice is
the disease of which nations die. No just government ever
perished — no unjust one ever long maintained its power:
Virtue is the true life-principle of society. All history
proves this ; but although immorality is the great destroyer,
a mistaken policy may be little inferior to it in mischief.
Foremost among such errors is the attempt to interfere with
the free course of thought. Act, not thought, is the subject
of legal regulation. To denounce the mind's conception of
such intangible but grand abstractions, as fate, freewill, elec
tion, and the like, is political insanity. Not less mischievous
is the fallacy of measuring conduct by creeds. The true test
of faith is practice. He who acts well, believes well. Mo
rality is debased when tested from above. Virtue may be
necessary to the state of grace, but grace is not indispensa
ble to virtue. It is a grand mistake to disparage morality
under pretence of looking- to higher things. In this world
there is nothing higher than goodness. — Such is the sub
stance of a remarkable work, written by this profoundly re
ligious man !2
1 Coll. Works, i. 226. 2 Coll. Works, i. 223.

WILLIAM PENN. 163
His other work was entirely political. In its composition
he was probably assisted by Sidney. They were much to
gether at this time ; and Algernon was a frequent and a
cherished guest at Worminghurst.1 He begins — " All is at
stake !" The crisis, he says, demands the utmost wisdom.
The new Parliament will have the gravest duties : — to investi
gate the plot and punish its authors ;- to impeach corrupt and
arbitraryministers of state ; to detect and punish those re
presentatives who had lately sold their services for money ; to
secure to Englishmen their ancient rights, by means of a bill
to shorten the duration of parliaments ; and finally, to ease
Protestant Dissenters. Such a work as this requires bold and
able men. He then sketches his ideal of a man for the
crisis : Algernon Sidney evidently sitting for the picture. He
should be able, learned, well-affected to liberty ; one who will
neither buy his seat nor sell his services ; he must be free
from the suspicion of ever having been a pensioner on court
or minister ; he should be a person of energy and industry,
free from the vices and weaknesses of town gallants ; a re
specter of principles, but not of persons ; fearful of evil, but
courageous in good ; a true Protestant ; and above all, a man
unconnected by office or favor with the court.3 Such is the
pith of this work — a work widely circulated at the time ; but
the moment was one eminently unfavorable to wise and sober
thought. The nation was in a general ferment. From the
hour of its birth the Popish plot had gathered strength. The
court was torn by factions ; and a well-merited impeachment
for corrupt practices was hanging over the head of Lord
Danby, First Minister of the Crown.4
In this posture of affairs the writs for a general election
were issued. Deceived on so many sides, the nation was be
side itself with excitement and apprehension, and persons of
calm and philosophic views had little hope of obtaining the
ear of the public ; but Sidney was not a man to shrink in a
good cause, even from the probabilities of a personal discom
fiture. Once in the House of Commons, his party felt that
his very name would be to them a tower of strength ; and to
1 Sidney to Furley, August 9, 19, 1678.
2 The wisest men felt the necessity of this course. Sir William Temple
said of the plot — "It must of necessity be pursued as if it were true,
whether it were true or not." Temple, ii. 491.
3 Collected Works, ii. 681. 4 Reresby, 67.

164 WILLIAM PENN.
give weight to his counsels, as the organ of republican opin
ions, they resolved to bring him forward as a candidate for a
county town. A large body of electors in Guildford having
pledged themselves to return him for that important con
stituency, he formally offered himself for the suffrages of its
inhabitants.1 Hitherto Penn had taken no personal part in politics. He
had even refrained from using his own rights as an elector, —
like many of his sect at the present day. It was repugnant
to his habits, and his moral sense was offended at a scene of
low corruption — the eating and drinking to excess, the revel
ries and disorders, the insolence of petty officials, the envy,
malice, and all uncharitableness to which a popular election
gave rise at that period.2 But when the interests of his illus
trious friend were at issue, all these scruples went for nothing.
For him, and for his cause, he would have done much more
than merely devote a few weeks to canvassing electors, mak
ing liberal speeches, and rendering his countrymen more and
more familiar with the principles embodied in the ancient
charters of liberty.
The position which Penn assumed at this period, as the
political friend of Sidney, and co-leader with him of the re
publican party, was one eminently perilous to his worldly
interests.3 His account with the government was still unset
tled. Neither the principal nor the interest of the large
debts owing by the crown to the admiral, had been paid; and
it was evident to all his friends that the final settlement of
the claim would mainly depend on the favorable disposition
of the royal brothers. It was obviously his interest therefore
to stand well with the court. But how could this be possible
so long as he acted with Algernon Sidney, — a man who had
not only borne arms against the Stuarts, in his more ardent
youth, but who in his riper manhood still avowed himself a
partisan of the Commonwealth ? To lie under the least suspi
cion of a leaning to the Republic, was enough to ruin any
public man in that age, — even the moderate and sagacious
Sir William Temple was hated because he was surmised to be
too much of Sidney's way of thinking.4 When his intention
1 Penn to Sidney. Collins' Sidney Papers, i. 154.
2 Henry Sidney's Diary and Correspondence, i. 117.
3 Barillion Corresp. Dalrymple, i. 282.
4 Birch MSS. 4297, P. M.

WILLIAM PENN. 165
to stand for Guildford became known, the court prepared to
oppose the candidature of the republican leader with all its
influence ;] but Penn, convinced that he was one of the no
blest spirits his age had produced, paid no respect to this
hostile demonstration, and boldly put in peril the chief part
of his worldly fortune, rather than stand apart and see his
friend defeated by a court intrigue.
As the day of election drew nigh, the court party became
active. Colonel Dalmahoy was sent down to stand in its in
terest;2 the mayor and the recorder of the town were bought
or terrified ; bribery, treating, intimidation, and all the baser
practices of electioneering, were brought forth. Soldiers were
discharged from the service on promising to vote for Dalma
hoy. Non-residents were sought after and their votes taken.
Paupers were made to tender votes for the court candidate.
To make the Commonwealth men odious in the eyes of the
mob, they were attacked with the foulest slanders : — Penn
was accused of being a Jesuit, Sidney was branded as a regi
cide. For three weeks the town was a scene of indescribable
confusion and disorder. Both parties feasted their sup
porters ; the sternest political virtue in that age was held to
be compatible with the amenities of cakes and ale.8
At length came the day of electien. In spite of every
thing which the court party had done to seduce or intimidate
the electors, Sidney had promises of a majority of votes.
Penn went with his friend to the hustings, and made a pointed
and powerful speech to the assembled burgesses. The re
corder could contain his wrath no longer. He shouted at the
speaker that he was a Jesuit ; but the coarse slander was
received as a dull joke, and the people only laughed at their
recorder instead of interrupting his intended victim. He then
called for the New Testament and tendered him the oaths —
well knowing that he would not take them — but Penn was
the better lawyer of the two, and he quietly reminded him
that the offer of an oath in such a place was contrary to law.
At this rebuke he lost all patience, called for his myrmidons,
and had him expelled the court by force.4
1 Sidney's Statement. Com. Jour. viii. 578.
2 The Court took a formal part in all elections at this time. Letter Books
in State Paper Oflice.
3 Collins' Sidney Papers, i. 154.
4 Sidney's Statement. Com. Jour. viii. 578.

166 WILLIAM PENN.
This diversion came too late. Sidney had already secured
a majority of suffrages. But having gone, such lengths, and
not daring to offend a sovereign who was in the constant
habit of removing local officers and naming more pliant tools
to fill their places1 — the recorder refused to make out his re
turn, on the plea that he was not a freeman of the borough,
though he had formally offered himself at the Town Hall, for
the purpose of being made, on the previous day, — and de
clared Dalmahoy duly elected.2 Never was a more shameless
transaction known. Of course, the liberals did not think of
submitting to an act of such intolerable injustice. They held
a conference of their friends on the afternoon of the election,
at which it was resolved to petition against the return, and
persons were appointed to watch the movements of the enemy
and make reports. It was late in the evening when Penn
parted with Sidney, but he had been from home some time,
and was anxious about Guli and the children. As he rode
along, his mind was deeply troubled at the scenes he had just
witnessed — the profligacy and unfairness of the court-party,
— the wanton indifference of so many electors to the great
interests of the time, — the contumely and wrong heaped on
his noble friend, because he and his party " had a conscien
tious regard for England:" it Was almost enough to make
him despair of the old country. When he got home he found
his family in good health ; but instead of giving himself up,
as was usual with him after a short absence, to domestic in
tercourse, he retired to his chamber and wrote off to Sidney
the following note : —
" Dear Friend, — I hope you got all well home, as I by
God's goodness have done. I reflected upon the way, of
things past at Guildford, and that which occurs to me as rea
sonable is this, that so soon as the articles or exceptions are
digested, show them to Sergeant Maynard, and get his opinion
of the matter. Sir Francis Winnington and Wallope have been
used on these occasions too. Thou must have counsel before
the Committee ; and to advise first upon the reason of an ad
dress or petition with them, in my opinion, is not imprudent,
but very fitting. If they say that (the conjuncture considered,
thy qualifications and alliance, and his ungratefulness to the
1 Sunderland Letter Book, 629, folio 132. S. P. 0.
2 Sidney's Statement. Com. Jour. viii. 578.

WILLIAM PENN. 167
House,) they believe all may amount to an unfair election,
then I offer to wait presently upon the Duke of Buckingham,
Earl of Shaftesbury, Lord Essex, Lord Halifax, Lord Hollis,
Lord Gray, and others, to use their utmost interest in revers
ing this business. This may be done in five days, and I was
not willing to stay till I come, which will be with the first.
Remember the non-residents on their side, as Legg and others.
I left order with all our interest to bestir themselves, and watch,
and transmit an account to thee daily. I bless God, I found all
well at home. I hope the disappointment so strange (a hun
dred and forty poll-men as we thought last night considered)
does not move thee. Thou, as thy friends, had a conscientious
regard for England ; and to be put aside by such base ways
is really a suffering for righteousness. Thou hast embarked
thyself with_them that seek, and love, and choose the best
things ; and number is not weight with thee. I hope it is
retrievable, for to me it looks not a fair and clear election.
Forget not that soldiers were made free three weeks ago in
prospect of that choice (and by the way they went, as we may
guess, for Dalmahoy's sake), and thyself so often put by, a
thing not refused to one of thy condition. Of the Lower House
the Lord Cavendish, and especially Lord Russel, Sir Jo. Co
ventry, Powell, Saychevrill, Williams, Lee, Clergis, Boskowen,
Titus, men, some able, some hot (ardent) and fit to be nearly
engaged in the knowledge of these things. 'Tis late, I am
weary, and hope to see thee quickly. Farewell.
"Thy faithful Friend,
"William Penn."1
The petition was prepared and sent in to the House of Com
mons. All over the country the terror of the plot had spread,
and never before had the constituencies of England returned
so implacable and intolerant a parliament. Another crisis
soon came on. Monmouth had been sent into banishment and
his mother branded as a wanton.2 These acts of the Catholic
party added fuel to the flame : — and the House met in a most
threatening mood. Its revenge was prompt. Danby was com
mitted to the Tower. The Duke of York was banished the
realm. The Whigs — as the party led by Shaftesbury and
Russell may properly be called — were on the eve of a decisive
1 Collins' Sidney Papers, i. 154.
3 Ellis' Original Letters, iv. 64. Second series.

168 WILLIAM PENN.
victory — when Charles again suddenly dissolved parliament
and appealed to the nation.1
Sidney prepared to stand again, but not for Guildford.
Penn rode about the southern counties, testing the feeling of
constituencies, and advised him to try his new fortunes at Bram
ber. It was a town in his own county : — in Kent, the very
name of Sidney bore with it an assurance of success. Besides
this great advantage, Bramber lay not remote from Guli's
property, and the Penns had family and other friendly con
nections in the neighborhood, — the Springetts, the Ellwoods,
the Faggs, and the Temples, from all of whom they counted
on support. Penn went to work with his usual zeal, and in a
few days he had engaged all these families in Sidney's interest.
He had even hopes of enlisting the Pelhams in the same cause,
— though in a recent county election he had opposed that
family in favor of Sir John Fagg.2 As soon as the writs were
out he went down to Bramber, and made it his head-quarters
until the election was over. Alert and ardent, he soon com
municated his own zeal to others, and with Sir John Fagg and
Sir John Temple commenced an active canvass of the electors
under most favorable auspices. When he spoke of the virtues
and genius of Algernon Sidney, the borough kindled at his
eloquence. From morning until night he was at work ; he
spared no exertion to secure success ; he made interest in every
house ; and kept Algernon, who was still in London, informed
of his progress. Two other candidates appeared in the field.
Mr. Parsons and Captain Goreing ; but they who knew the
town best considered his return at the head of the poll as cer
tain.3 In this emergency, the court, nervously anxious to keep the
great republican out of parliament, had recourse to the vilest
arts. Knowing the influence which the name of Sidney exer
cised in Kent, the Earl of Sunderland, Penn's old friend and
fellow-traveller, now become minister to Charles, and the wily
genius who directed every movement at the palace, resolved
to oppose brother to brother — to array Sidney against Sidney.
His uncle Henry was weak by nature — was politically opposed
to his illustrious brother — and only too willing to please the
1 Temple, ii. 509, 512.
* Lady Sunderland to Henry Sidney. Diary and Corresp. i. 123.
Collins' Sidney Papers, i. 155. .

WILLIAM PENN. 169
King at any price.1 Recently he had received some proofs of
royal favor, and had reason given Jiim to hope for more. He
had been graciously allowed to buy Godolphin's place of master
of the robes for six thousand pounds ;2 and he had just been
sent to Holland, as envoy extraordinary to the Prince of
Orange, where he hoped to lay the foundations of a future
fortune.3 He could not quarrel with Whitehall, except at the
peril of his worldly hopes ; so he allowed his name to be used
by his brother's enemies, and scandalised the family through
the entire county.
When this design of contesting the election was first whis
pered at Bramber, Penn would not believe it. But he knew the
danger, should the report prove true, — as its first effect would
be to carry the Pelham interest to the other side. He felt
that no time was now to be lost, and in this state of doubt as
to the real quarter from which resistance would come, he wrote
to urge Sidney, to come down at once to the borough : —
" Dear Friend, — I am now at Sir John Fagg's, where I
and my relations dined. I haved pressed the point with what
diligence and force I could ; and, to say true, Sir John Fagg
has been a most zealous, and, he believes, a successful friend
to thee. But, upon a serious consideration of the matter, it
is agreed that thou comest down with all speed, but that thou
takest Hall-Land in thy way, and bringest Sir John Pelham
with thee, — which he ought less to scruple, because his having
no interest can be no objection to his appearing with thee ; the
commonest civility that can be is all [that is] desired. The
borough has kindled at thy name, and takes it well. If Sir
John Temple may be credited, he assures me it is very likely.
He is at work, daily. Another, one Parsons, treats to-day,
but for thee, as well as himself, and mostly makes his men for
thee, and perhaps will be persuaded, if you two carry it not,
to bequeath his interest to thee, and then Captain Goreing is
thy colleague ; and this I wish, both to make the thing easier
and to prevent offence. Sir John Pelham sent me word, he
heard that thy brother Henry Sidney would be proposed to
that borough, or already was, and till he was sure of the con-
' Sunderland Corresp. Birch MSS. 4297.
2 Blencoe's Sidney Papers, 86, where it is added — " the Lord Ranelagh, for
the same sum (6000J.) paid to the Lord Sunderland, is made gentleman of the
bed chamber in his place." Letters to Savile, June 19, 1679.
3 Burnet, ii. 404. 15

170 WILLIAM PENN.
trary, it would not decent for him to appear. Of that thou
canst best inform him. That day you come to Bramber, Sir
John Fagg will meet you both ; and that night you may lie
at Wiston, and then, when thou pleasest, with us at Worming-
hurst. Sir John Temple has that opinion of thy good reasons
to persuade, as well as quality to influence the electors, that,
with what is and will be done, the business will prosper ; which,
with my true good wishes -that it may be so, is all at present
from thy true Friend, William Penn.
" Sir John Fagg salutes thee."1
As soon as he had despatched this missile, he wrote another
letter to Pelham to protest against the scandal of Henry's
name being used in his absence to the prejudice of Algernon,
— and expressed his fears that this ungenerous act would lead
to still greater feuds in the Sidney family. To this remons
trance Sir John Pelham paid little regard. Sunderland moved
the wires at his will ; and under the powerful influence of feast
ing and drinking — the Pelhams contributing half a fat buck
to that end — when the day of election came, Henry obtained
exactly as many votes as his brother, who nevertheless received
the casting voice, and was declared duly and rightfully re
turned.2 Penn now considered his friend as fairly about to
take his seat in the House, where his counsels and his example
might be of the most signal service to his country ; and al
though few other republicans were returned, their party gen
erally were satisfied with their leader being once more in
parliament. But as soon as the House met, the return was
annulled by an intrigue of the royalists, and their joy was
turned into wrath and indignation. A second time elected of
his countrymen, in spite of all the devotion of his friends, and
never man had truer, Algernon Sidney was rejected !3
This second disappointment seems to have made a still more
profound and lasting impression on the mind of Penn. It
almost drove the remembrance of Guildford from his thoughts.
That a stranger like Dalmahoy should be found willing to
take unfair advantages of an honest adversary, — that a petty
1 Collins' Sidney Papers, i. 155.
2 Gilbert Spencer to Henry Sidney, i. 117.
3 Spencer tells Henry — possibly to spare his feelings — that Algernon did
not go to the poll. Diary and Corresp. i. 117. But the facts were as stated
in the text. Sidney believed himself safe in his seat. — Letters to Savile. On
the 14th December, Barillon wrote to inform Louis that he was elected.

WILLIAM PENN. 171
official, whom the court could make or unmake at pleasure,
should be eager to sully his own fame rather than risk the
emoluments of his place — these were conceivable. But that a
nephew and a brother — members of an illustrious house, and
men whom he had himself known for years — should willingly
lend themselves to serve the purposes of a base cabal, to the
scandal of the county and the dishonor of their own blood :
this appeared to him inconceivable. When the nearest rela
tives of Algernon Sidney would not pause at such an act of
baseness, what was left for virtue and integrity but to flee
away from a land so cursed as England !
His regard was now turned more and more steadily towards
America. He had made one great struggle more at home, —
and it had failed. But he did not despair of Freedom. Experi
ence had convinced him that in the new world alone was there
room enough for that great trial of a free Democracy which
formed so prominent a feature of Sidney's conversation. That
in an open field, the experiment of a Commonwealth, in which
the whole power lay with the people, however the idea might
be ridiculed in that age of political infidelity, would succeed
and flourish he had no doubt ; but finding no reason to believe
that such a trial could be brought about in England, he adopted
the romantic resolution of giving up his fortune and his future
life to its realization in the new world.
A long and cogent train of incidents had led him to this
great- resolution. Once formed, it was put into immediate
course of execution. In lieu of the money owing to his father,
he proposed to the King's council to take a certain amount of
territory on the Atlantic sea-board and in the interior of the
country, as had been done at various times by other of the
great colonial proprietors.1 The tract of land included in his
petition was then a huge wilderness, with only here and there,
at vast distances, a solitary house of wood and thatch, ten
anted by some enterprising Dutch or Swedish family ; and
the hush of nature lay unbroken for hundreds of miles except
by the occasional cry of the Indian hunter. To this unknown
country he proposed to lead out a colony of pious, liberal, and
industrious citizens, to seek those fortunes and enjoy those
liberties in the new world which the evil passions of the older
world denied them. There was a touch of classic chivalry in
1 Pennsylvania Papers, vol. i. State Paper Office.

172 WILLIAM PENN.
such a thought. The young soldier of Kinsale, with the ad
venturous genius of his race, would re-enact in modern times,
the feats of an ancient hero of romance. But this was the
least part of his design. -He wished to provide out of that
wilderness a Free Colony for all mankind — an original and an
august conception : one which will keep his name forever in
the best memories of mankind.1 His experiment was to bear
;witness to the world that there is in human nature virtue suf-
ificient for self-government.2 In the colony of his brain he
was resolved that there should be equal laws. The entire
sovereignty — judicial, representative, administrative — should
rest with the people. Every office of government should be
discharged by men elected to their functions, and paid out of
the public revenue for their services. The state should employ
the best of servants, but admit of no masters. There should
be no difference of rank — no privileged order — in this new
community. In his generous enthusiasm for equal rights,
Penn forgot that some of these ideas were incompatible with
the laws and constitutions of England.3 In the Utopia con
ceived in his mind he had resolved that there should be no
power, not even his own, above the law. Justice should be
equally administered. To the natives of the soil he would
offer protection, the useful arts, European comforts, and above
all the Christian gospel. The spirit of love brooded over all
his projects. Universal freedom of the- conscience — perfect
equality of political and civil rights — the most sacred respect
for personal liberty — and a full regard to the rights of pro
perty ; these were the chief points of his scheme of colonial
government. The design was as grand as it was novel : — in
every sense it was worthy of the friend of Algernon Sidney !
1 Penn to Judge Mompesson. Watson's Annals, 98.
2 Penn to Turner, February 12, 1681.
3 Attorney-General's Observations. Pennsylvania Papers, vol. i. State
Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 173

CHAPTER VII.
1680-1682.
A NEW DEMOCRACY.
When Admiral Penn died he left behind him claims on the
Government, amounting in the whole to nearly fifteen thou
sand pounds. In Charles' time the exchequer was usually
empty, and among their other resources financiers were in the
habit of borrowing money from private individuals for the
uses of the State. The system of permanent national debts
had fortunately not yet come into vogue ; the security of the
Government, the King's honor and honesty, was not consi
dered quite so good as that offered by a tenth-rate banker ;
and it consequently required no small amount of patriotism
to induce a man to lay his private fortunes at the disposal of
his country.1 The cautious and forecasting admiral had acted
with much liberality. He had lent large sums of money to
the public Treasury at times when it was needed to equip the
fleet. He remained without his pay for years when the finan
ces were embarrassed ; and as no interest was ever paid on
the principal lent, the debt ran up in the course of years to
the amount already named. Ten years had now elapsed since
the admiral's death ; and as his son had never seriously pressed
for a settlement — the Princes being always in want of ready
money — the claim had accumulated to upwards of sixteen
thousand pounds — equal to more than three times that amount
of our present money.2 In lieu of a money settlement of this
claim, Penn now sent in his petition to the Council, praying
that his Majesty would be pleased to grant him letters-patent
conferring upon him and his heirs forever a tract of unoccu
pied crown-land in America.3 The block of country which
he had selected lay to the north of the Catholic province of
Maryland, owned by Lord Baltimore ; for its western boun
dary it had the state of New Jersey, with the affairs of which
1 Pepys, iv. 161-164, 172. 2 Penn to Turner, April 2, 1681.
3 Pennsylvania Papers, June 14, 1680, State Paper Office.
15*

174 WILLIAM PENN.
he was now become familiar. It had only one outlet into the
sea, — by means of the great Delaware river ; but it stretched
inland to an unknown and undefined extent, across the mag
nificent range of the Alleghanies to the banks of the Ohio
on the west, and to the shores of Lake Erie on the north.
The length of the province was nearly three hundred miles ;
its width about one hundred and sixty ; and it contained no
less than forty-seven thousand square miles of surface — being
little less than the whole area of England ! The entire region
was covered with dense forests and extended prairies. The
native Indians hunted the elk and the wild deer over its great
plains, or danced the war-dance and smoked the pipe of peace
beneath the shade of its majestic oaks.1 Nature had not been
prodigal of her bounties in this region ; the bare mountain
chain covered a vast portion of its area, and while the adjoin
ing states of Virginia and New England resounded with in
dustry and began to blossom as the rose, no one thought of
sitting down in this bleak and forbidding clime. The winters
were known to be severe on the western slopes of the moun
tain range, and it was conjectured that they must be still
colder in the valleys on the east. Yet the land was rich in
many of the best elements of national wealth. The magnifi
cent embouchure of the Delaware, between Cape Henlopen
and Cape May, offered a basin in which the commerce of a
great continent might find ship-room. The Susquehannah,
the Delaware, the Ohio, the Alleghany, and a host of minor
streams watered the interior of the country or washed its
boundaries. It was rich also in mineral treasures. Iron was
to be had for the search ; to the west of the Alleghanies lay
inexhaustible fields of bituminous coal ; and anthracite beds
of the same valuable fossil were to be found in almost every
part of the province. Near the banks of the Ohio lay con
cealed a treasury of salt-springs. Lime-stone was everywhere
abundant ; and in the south-east was a quarry of marble, not
unworthy to vie with the produce of Italy and Greece.2 Nor
was the whole of the province like the barren slopes of the
mountainous districts. Though the rock often lay near the
surface, it was covered with a rich vegetable loam. Sand and
alluvial deposite existed in the same locality.3 Brooks and
1 Penn to Free Traders, August 6, 1683.
2 Macgregor's Commercial Tariffs, Part xv. 348-9.
3 Penn's Letter to the Free Traders, August 6, 1683.

WILLIAM PENN. 175
mountain streams innumerable crossed and recrossed the val
leys in every direction, fertilizing the soil and breeding my
riads of ducks, curlews, geese, and other water-fowl.1 The
lower flats about the Schuylkill and the Delaware were remark
able for their fertility. Between the head waters of the Alleg
hany and Lake Erie, and on both banks of the Susquehan
nah, the soil was wonderfully rich and capable of the very
highest cultivation. It waited only for the forests to be felled
and the surface cleared to produce wheat, barley, rye, Indian
corn, hemp, oats, and flax in extraordinary perfection.2 In
the vicinity of the sea the climate for a considerable portion
of the year had the balmy softness of the south of France ;3
and the purity of the atmosphere reminded Penn continually
of the air of Languedoc.4 The forests supplied woods of
almost every kind. The cypress, the cedar, the chestnut, the
oak, and the walnut were among the most plentiful. The
poplar attained in that climate to its highest perfection — a
circumstance often mentioned by the proprietor. Six precious
species of oak were to be found. The pine, the cedar, and
the wild myrtle filled the air with fragrance ; and a slight
breeze brought from the heart of these boundless woods scents
which acted on the nerves like a gentle stimulant.5 Beasts
of prey and animals of a large size there were none ; but the
woods abounded in wild game, and the venison they produced
was superior to any thing of the kind out of England. Fowls
grew to an ' enormous size in the country, and it became a
common thing afterwards to have turkeys of forty or fifty
pounds weight ; and pheasants, partridges, and pigeons made
the fields vocal with their cries. The rivers were ready to
yield abundance of fish, especially perch and trout, shad and
rock, roach, smelt, and eels. Oysters were plentiful and of
great size and delicacy, as were also crabs, cockles, conch, and
other shell-fish. Luscious fruits grew wild about the country
— the grape, the peach, the strawberry, the plum, the chestnut,
and the mulberry, while the eye was delighted with the virgin
flowers of the forest, of a beauty, largeness, and splendor
quite unknown in the harsher latitudes of the north.8
These natural advantages were many of them at that time
1 Penn to the Free Traders, Aug. 6, 1683. 2 Macgregor, xi. 348, 349.
3 Penn to the Free Traders, August 6, 1683.
4 Penn to Sunderland, July 28, 1683. 6Ibid.
6 Penn to the Free Traders, August 6.

176 WILLIAM PENN.
unknown. Penn himself never suspected that he was asking
for a kingdom in return for a trifling debt. Indeed, he had
no thought of making money by his province ; and to the day
of his death he never dreamt of the pecuniary value of his
acquisition.1 For years and years it had been a sort of waste
land, which no one believed to be worth the trouble of enclos
ing. Men in that age looked upon a settlement among the
Alleghanies as their descendants now do upon the gorges of
the Rocky Mountains. They went thither who could settle no
where else. When Gustavus Adolphus came to the throne of
Sweden, he had found nearly the whole of the American con
tinent in the possession of one or other of the European
powers ; but being anxious, as stated in the proclamation
issued at Stockholm, " to convert the heathen and to extend
his dominions, to enrich the treasury and lessen the public
taxes," he sent out a number of colonists from Sweden to
take possession of the unoccupied territory lying about the
upper reaches of the Delaware.2 This was the beginning of
a sedate, industrious, and religious community. A few Dutch
settlers were there before them ; and these, at first, had no
friendly feeling to the new comers. But they soon found
that their industrious neighbors would be useful to them, and
national jealousy was kept down by a sense of pecuniary in
terest. The Swedes turned all their attention to farming :
the Hollanders preferred the less laborious pursuits of trade.
They suited each other exactly.3 With the Swedes went out
a number of Finns ; and a village was formed by them at
Wicocoa, now within the suburbs of Philadelphia.4 They
gave the name of New Suabia to the whole country,5 and
scattered themselves far and wide over its surface. They
had, however, advanced but a little way towards the forma
tion of a State, when Penn became a petitioner to the King.
Not a single house had been built at Philadelphia, a spot
marked out by nature as the site of a great city ; for such of
the Hollanders as had fixed their residence at the confluence
of the two rivers, had been content to harbor in the holes and
caves with which the high bank of the Delaware abounded.6
' Penn Gaskill, MSS.
2 Holms' Hist. New Swedeland (Stockholm, 1702 ; reprinted by the New
York Hist. Society), ii. 345. 3 Penn. Hist. Collections, 10.
4 Proud. Hist, of Penns. i. 205. Proud is now an original authority ; he
had access to manuscript letters and papers which are no longer in exist
ence. 6 Smith's Map, 1603. 6 Penn. Hist. Soc. Memoirs, i. 163.

WILLIAM PENN. 177
The native red men of the southern part of the province
were a branch of the Lenni Lenape". This name, signifying
" the original people," was a common term, under which were
included all the Indian tribes speaking dialects of the widely-
spread Algonquin language. An obscure tradition among
them pointed to a great emigration from the west, in ages
long passed away ; and it is probable they were the remnants
of a conquering race, which had subdued and swept away the
more civilized people, whose monuments still arrest the atten
tion of the traveller in the great valley of the Mississippi.1
The northern regions were held by the Iroquois, the race of
red men so famous in the history of New York, under the
name of the Six Nations. As compared with the white men,
these different tribes presented the same general characteris
tics — hardy, hospitable, cunning, magnanimous, and cruel.
These semi-savages claimed the lordship of the soil, as theirs
by immemorial occupancy. But as they hunted only, and
the grounds were of use merely as long as the rivers yielded
fish, and the forests game, they set little value on its perma
nent possession. They were in the nomadic stage of social
development ; and men who have no fixed place of residence
— no altars and no homes — have yet to acquire the means
whereby the sense of a sort of sacredness in the soil grows
up. The Iroquois and the Lenape" built no cities — perma
nently cultivated no fields. Wherever the woods afforded
sport, the wigwam was erected. The men tightened their
bows and sharpened their hatchets ; the women planted a
rood, or so, of maize ; and as soon as the spoils of the forest
and the produce of the field were got in, they decamped to a
more attractive spot. They were not devoid of a rude sort of
government. The king or sachem was an hereditary ruler ;
but the order of succession was by the female line. The
children of the reigning sachem could not succeed him in his
regal office, but the next son of his mother in point of age: if
there were no brother, then the eldest son of his sister. This
practice broadly indicates the state of morals among the red
skins, the precaution being adopted to prevent the intrusion
of spurious blood into the royal house.2
Such were the broad natural features of the country which
1 Penn. Hist. Soc. Collections, 5.
2 Penn's Letter to the Free Traders, August 6, 1683.

178 WILLIAM PENN.
William Penn now petitioned the King to grant him, in lieu
of his claim upon the government.
The petition was strongly opposed in the Privy Council,
where political bigotry and private interest continued for a
whole year to thwart its progress. Penn's ideas were not
popular at Whitehall -,1 his so-called eccentricities had only
been tolerated out of respect for his father ; but the Royalists
lost all patience when it became known that he sought to ob
tain a grant of land with the intention of putting in practice
certain theories of government held to be Utopian by wise and
moderate politicians, and denounced by every courtier and
cavalier as absolutely dangerous to the crown and state.
Recent events had somewhat relaxed his hold upon the Duke
of York. He had publicly expressed his belief in the Popish
Plot ; he had influenced his friends, openly and strenuously,
to support Algernon Sidney, against the party of the court ;
and had become an accepted leader of the Republicans.2 He
had committed a still greater offence in the eyes of James —
he had stood between the Prince and his prey, and had com
pelled him to do an act of substantial justice. Being the
lord-proprietor of the whole province of New Netherlands,
James had claimed a right to levy an import and export tax
upon all articles entering or leaving its ports. So long as he
retained the territories in his own possession, this claim was
not disputed ; and consequently all persons carrying goods to
or from New Jersey, had paid a duty of ten per cent, ad va
lorem. But after the transfer of the proprietorship to
Byllinge, this tax was felt by the colonists to be a grievous
wrong ; they drew up a protest against it, which they sent
home to Penn, the acting trustee for the new proprietor.
Having considered the justice of the case, he proceeded in
the name of his clients against his own patron in the courts
of law. Sir William Jones decided in favor of Penn and the
colonists ; and the Duke at once acquiesced in the decision,
though it is hardly possible to believe that he would not feel
sore at his defeat, and angry with the man who had forced
him to give up a considerable part of his revenue. To the
1 Penn to Turner, February 12, 1681.
2 Sewell, ii. 294. James had sagacity enough to see that the Sidney party
were determined to restore a republic ; he was continually representing this
to Charles. See his Memoirs, i. 595-632. Sidney and Shaftesbury had a
violent quarrel at this time. Dorothy Sidney to Lord Halifax, July 8.

WILLIAM PENN. 179
coldness of the Prince was added the active hostility of Lord
Baltimore, whose ill-defined possessions were supposed to be
invaded by the new boundary line.1 Baltimore was a bigoted
Papist, and one of those who stood at this very moment in
Oates' black list of conspirators ;2 he was consequently not in
the country, but he had powerful friends at court, ever watch
ing over his interests ; and Penn's petition was no sooner laid
before the council, than a copy of it was sent off to his agent,
Mr. Burke, who thereupon took his own measures to defeat
it.3 Had the rbyal coffers been more plentifully supplied at
this time, it is not likely that the State of Pennsylvania, as
it now stands, would ever have been founded. The dilatory
forms of the royal council were used to prolong considera
tion of the petition ; the Lords Commissioners of Trade and
Plantation, wrote long letters about mere trifles to the Attor
ney-General, and the Attorney-General wrote with similar
tact and ease to the Lords Commissioners. Penn's time and
hopes were equally wasting.4 The Earl of Sunderland was
his most active- friend at court ; but his interests were also
promoted by Lord Hyde, Chief Justice North, and the Earl
of Halifax.5 These politic friends advised him to be silent as
to his democratic intentions, until his patent was issued, and
he had got safely away into his new colony : the mere name
of freedom having an offensive sound in the neighborhood of
the palace ; if he wished to succeed in his attempt, he must
adopt the suggestions of worldly prudence. Penn followed
this advice.6 But his enemies were powerful in rank and in
fluence ;7 and before their opposition was brought to an end,
they contrived for him many grievous trials and bitter disap
pointments.8 In the meantime, doubtful of the issue of his petition, but
determined to try his great experiment in a fair field, at his
own cost and risk, he seized an opportunity which offered
itself to become a part-proprietor of East New Jersey. Sir
George Carteret, tired of the responsibilities of his office,
1 Dunlop, Penn. Hist. Soc. Memoirs, i. 167.
2 True and Exact Narrative, 6.
3 Note to Pennsylvania Papers, June 14, State Paper Office.
4 This correspondence is preserved in Vol. i. of Penn. Papers, in the State
Paper Office.
6 Penn to Sunderland, July 28, 1683. 6 Penn to Turner, April 12, 1681.
' Ibid. August 25, 1681. 8 Ibid. March 5, 1681.

180 WILLIAM PENN.
proposed to sell his province ; and William Penn, the Earl of
Perth, and twenty-two others, purchased it, with a view to
establish a more liberal government and bring some of his
ideas into practical operation. The partnership completed,
and the purchase made, Penn drew up an account of the soil,
air, water, climate and other natural advantages of the coun
try — sketched a project for a new town, which he proposed to
call Perth- Amboy, out of compliment to his noble partner, —
and published a method of disposing of such lands as remained
in the colony unoccupied. His fame as a state founder had
now spread into every part of the British Islands ; the libe
rality of the concessions attracted the notice and favor of
the general public, and a great number of emigrants, especi
ally from Scotland, accepted the terms, and repaired with
their families to East New Jersey.1 In these active employ
ments he found a refuge from the troubles brought upon him
by his petition ; the delays of the council, the envy of false
friends, and the malice of his open foes.2
The petition was bandied about from council to commission,
from commission to council. At first the Duke of York was
unfavorable to the grant in the form which Penn, advised by
Sidney, had proposed ; and the Attorney-General, Sir Joseph
Werden, objected to it in his name.3 But Sunderland pressed
the matter to a conclusion by keeping the attention of the
court fixed on the alternative of a settlement of the debt in
money.4 This great argument in its favor ultimately over
came the scruples of all parties. After five months spent in
negociation, Sir Joseph wrote to inform Mr. Secretary Blath-
wayte that the Duke of York had consented to accede to
Penn's request.5 All that now remained was the arrangement
of details. But this task occupied another term of five
months. The chief questions which came up for discussion
had reference fo the boundaries and the constitutions. The
agents of the Duke of York were heard by the Privy Coun
cil'; Mr. Burke appeared on behalf of his noble employer, and
both parties laid objections to the boundary line as drawn by
the friends of Penn. The geography of the American con-
1 Pennsylvania Papers, i. 103, State Paper Office.
* Penn's Letter, February 5, 1683. Besse, i. 124.
:' Pennsylvania Papers, June 23, State Paper Office.
4 Penn to Sunderland, July 28, 1683.
6 Pennsylvania Papers, October 16, State Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 181
tinent was then very imperfectly known, even to the men who
had to dispose of it in parcels almost as large as kingdoms;1
and the charters of nearly all the proprietors were drawn
up so as to lead to vexatious after-disputes.2 Penn's counsel
made the best of their position ; their client being anxious to
obtain a well-marked line of separation from the lands of his
neighbors, and especially from those of the Catholic lord of
Maryland ; but the parties could not agree, and the grant was
finally made out with no proper understanding of the ques
tions in dispute, in the hope that the proprietors would them
selves be able to arrange their differences.3 This omission led
to endless disputes.4 The terms of the charter then came on
for consideration. > Penn had forgotten some of the less liberal
laws and usages of England; but the Attorney-General and
the Lord Chief Justice took occasion to remedy this defect by
adding a number of clauses to the charter. They expressly
reserved all the royal privileges. They provided for the au
thority of Parliament in all questions of trade and commerce.
They made it imperative that all acts of the colonial legisla
ture should be submitted to the King and his council, without
whose formal sanction they would be void and of no effect.
Above all, they reserved to the mother country the full right
to levy taxes and customs.5 The Bishop of London got a
clause inserted claiming security for the National Church.
An instance how little Penn's tolerant spirit was understood
in his own day !6
All these preliminaries being arranged, on the 24th of
February the Lords of Trade and Plantations, submitted the
draft of a charter to the King, constituting Penn absolute
proprietor of the province. Charles at once set his signature
to the document, only too happy to cancel a large and trouble
some debt so easily.7
1 Sir Joseph Werden to Secretary Blathwayte, November 20, Pa. Papers,
State Paper Office.
2 Watson's Annals, 5.
3 There is a useful article on the boundary question between Penn and
Lord Baltimore in Penn. Hist. Soc. Memoirs, i. 160 ; but Mr. Dunlop had
not seen the important papers relating to this controversy in the State Paper
Office. 4 The correspondence between Baltimore and Penn, their agents, and the
government, fills several volumes in the State Paper Office.
6 North's Memoranda, Pa. Papers, vol. i. (1680), State Paper Offioe.
6 Penn's Papers, February 24, 1680-1, State Paper Office.
7 Records of Privy Council, C. R. 16, 224, P. C. 0.
16

182 WILLIAM PENN.
A council was called for the fifth of March at Whitehall
which Penn was summoned to attend. The King was present ;
but the petitioner neither doffed his hat nor bent his knee be
fore the majesty of England. Charles seems to have been
rather amused with his eccentric and unique courtier, if a
story which obtained currency at that time may be credited.
As Penn stood bonneted in the royal presence, he observed
the King remove his hat ; at which, it is said, he observed,
"Friend Charles, why dost thou not keep on thy hat ?" To
which his majesty replied laughing — " It is the custom of this
place for only\one person to remain covered at a time."1 — At
this council the charter was finally issued. The name which
Penn had fixed on for his province was New Wales, on ac
count of its mountainous character. But Secretary Blath-
wayte, a Welshman, objected to have the Quaker country
called after his native land ; the new proprietor then proposed
Sylvania, on account of its magnificent forests ; and to this
the King himself added Penn, in honor of the great admiral.
It was a happy combination — the Forest Land of Penn ! The
proprietor, however, fearful lest it would appear an instance
of vanity in him to have allowed a large principality to be
called after his family, appealed to the King, and offered
twenty guineas to the Secretary, to have it altered. Had he
appealed to Blathwayte and bribed the King, he might have
succeeded. As it was, Charles took upon himself, the respon
sibility of the name ;2 and the patent was issued in the usual
form.3 The document itself — the germ of a great nation — is
now in the office of the Secretary, of Pennsylvania ; it is
written on rolls of strong parchment, in the old English hand
writing, each line underscored with red ink ; the borders are
gorgeously emblazoned with heraldic devices, and the top of
the first sheet exhibits a finely executed portrait of his
majesty, still in a state of excellent preservation. It briefly
sets forth the nature and reasons of the grant, and loosely
describes the boundaries of the province. This document,
although not yet two centuries old, is already regarded with
a sort of veneration.4
1 The True Picture of Quakerism (1736), p. 7. Gray's Hudibras, i. 376,
note. Sewell tells the story differently, ii. 334.
2 Penn to Turner, March 5, 1681.
3 There is an attested copy in the State Paper Office. It is printed in
Hazard's Register, i. 293. 4 Penn. Hist.- Soc. Memoirs, i. 167.

WILLIAM PENN. 183
To Penn himself the granting of his petition was the great
event of his life. He knew the grandeur of his own designs.
Sidney felt that the cause of freedom was at issue; but he,
with a simpler philosophy rising to a higher generalization,
felt that the question involved no less than the cause of God.
A more than usually profound religious sentiment swayed his
mind while waiting the turns of this negociation ; he saw how
completely a false step, a rash word, an imprudent concession,
might put the whole of his great scheme in peril. When the
charter was issued he could exclaim — " God hath given it to
me in the face of the world  He will bless and make it
the seed of a nation."1
In this spirit he commenced his labors as a legislator.
Warned by the utter failure of the rigid constitution so elabo
rately drawn up by Locke and Shaftesbury for Carolina, and
which their friends had declared would last forever, — Penn
resolved, at the instance of Algernon Sidney,2 to secure an
essentially democratic basis for his scheme of government,
and allow the minor details to be filled in as time, events, and
the public good should render them necessary.3 At the out
set, therefore, he drew up a frame of government, the pre
amble of which — like the declaration of rights and principles
prefixed to more modern constitutions — contained an exposi
tion of his leading ideas on the nature, origin, and object of
government. His sentiments, as exhibited in this document,
are wise, liberal, and noble. He begins by expressing his
conviction that government is of divine origin — and bears the
same sort of relation to the outer that religion does to the
inner man. The outward law, he says, is needed in the world
because men will not always obey the inward light: "The
law, in the words of an Apostle, was added on account of
transgression." But they err, he says, who fancy that govern
ment has only to coerce the evil-doers : it has also to en
courage the well-disposed, to shield virtue, to reward merit, to
foster art, to promote learning. — As to particular models of
government, he will say little. Vice will vitiate every form ;
and while men side with their passions against their reason,
neither monarchy nor democracy can preserve them from the
destructive consequences. Governments depend more upon
1 Letter to Turner, March 5. Besse, i. 124.
2 Penn to Sidney, October 13, 1681.
3 MS. Letter, February 28, 1684-5.

184 WILLIAM PENN.
men than men upon governments. If men are wise and vir
tuous, the governments under which they live must also be
come wise and virtuous ; it is therefore essential to the sta
bility of a state that the people be educated in noble thoughts
and virtuous actions. Such a people, making its own laws
and obeying them faithfully, will be in reality a free people,
so long as the laws are suffered to rule, whatever be the name
of the constitution,1
The counsels of Halifax and Sunderland had not been lost.
Without using terms which would have roused the jealousy
of Whitehall, Penn contrived to express the chief of his ideas
in a clear and practical shape. He concludes his preface by
saying that, "in reverence to God and good conscience to
wards men," he has formed his scheme of government so as
" to support power in reverence with the people, and to secure
the people from the abuse of power, that they may be free by
their just obdience, and the magistrates honorable for their
just administration."2
The constitution, a rough draft only, followed. It had been
drawn up with great care by Penn and Sidney together. Al
gernon went down to Worminghurst for the purpose ; and there
the two lawgivers drew up the first outlines of the constitution,
discussing the several articles word by word. Every phrase
employed was tested by the most advanced theories of demo
cracy, and by the practice of ancient and modern nations.
Penn freely changed his terms whenever Sidney expressed a
doubt of their wisdom and fitness. When the first rudiments
were moulded into shape, Algernon carried the papers home
with him to Penshurst, to consider and reconsider the various
clauses at his leisure ; and when his own mind was fully satis
fied as to their form and substance, he brought them back
finally amended. So intricate and continuous was this mutual
aid, that it is quite impossible to separate the exact share of
one legislator from that of the other.3 The constitution began
by declaring that the sovereign power resided in the governor
and freemen of the province. For purposes of legislation, two
bodies were to be elected by the people — a Council and an
Assembly. The proprietor or his deputy was to preside at
the council, and to have three votes : this was the only power
1 Preamble of Frame of Government. Folio, 1682.
2 Hazard's Register, i. 324.
3 Penn to Sidney, October 13, 1681.

williXm penn. 185
.which he reserved to himself or his agents. The functions of
the council were, to prepare and propose bills — to see the laws
duty executed — to have charge of the peace and safety of the
province — to determine on the sites of new towns and cities —
to build ports, harbors, and markets — to make and repair
roads — to inspect the public treasury — to erect courts of jus
tice, institute primary schools, and reward the authors of useful
inventions and discoveries. This body, consisting of seventy-
two persons, was to be chosen by universal suffrage for three
years, twenty-four of them retiring every year, their places
being supplied by a new election. The members of the assem
bly were to be elected annually. The votes were in all cases
to be taken by ballot ; the members were to be paid ; and the
suffrage was universal. There were no property qualifications,
and the whole country was to be divided into sections for
electoral purposes.1 The assembly, however, had no delibera
tive power. The acts of the council were to be simply laid
before it for approval or rejection. It had the privilege of
making out the list of persons to be named as justices and
sheriffs, of which list the governor was bound to select one
half; this privilege is still preserved in America, to the great
scandal of countries in which the judgment-seat is held to be
the last place which ought to be invaded by popular will. Penn
evidently intended the assembly to be a great audit-chamber ;
a yearly gathering of the people to sanction, if it found them
worthy, the measures of the government. But with time its
functions grew in importance ; elected every year, it repre
sented public opinion more accurately than the more senate
like council ; and this circumstance gave it a weight in the
country which the less changeable body never possessed.2
To this outline of a constitution were added forty provi
sional laws relating to liberty of conscience, the choice of civil
officers, provision for the poor, processes at law, fines, forfei
tures, arrests, and other matters of a civil nature. These
provisional laws were to be in force until the council had been
properly elected, when they were to be accepted, amended, or
rejected, as the popular representatives should think proper ;
Penn agreeing with Sidney that no men could know what laws
were needful so well as those whose lives, properties, and liber-
1 Frame of Government, 1682. Here are all the " six points of the Charter."
2 Franklin's Historical Review (1759). 16*

186 WILLIAM PENN.
ties would be concerned in their administration. On this point
the constitution of Pennsylvania, and through it that of the
United States, owes an eternal obligation to Algernon Sidney.
Penn, like More, Harrington, and the writers on Utopian
schemes of government, had a leaning in favor of a fixed and
inflexible system. He would have drawn up his own constitu
tions and offered them to the world as the conditions of set
tlement in his new colony. Shaftesbury and Baltimore had
adopted this as the only possible form. With a truer political
instinct, Sidney saw that a democracy was incompatible with
a fixed and foreign body of constitutional law. He proposed,
therefore, to leave this question open.1 Having fixed the great
boundary lines of the system — secured freedom of thought
(always Penn's first care), sacredness of person and property,
popular control over all the powers of the state, financial, civil,
proprietorial, and judicial — the lawgivers left the new demo
cracy to develope itself in accordance with its own natural
genius ; — which it did the better for being unincumbered with
useless formalities and laws.2 America owes much to Algernon
Sidney. Penn's philosophical friend Locke had taken another course.
The serene and logical thinker had brought to the task of
forming a new government for Carolina the learning of the
schools and the traditions of ancient times ; Shaftesbury had
also contributed his knowledge of the actual world ; and these
two liberal and enlightened men had drawn up a form of go
vernment which England received as the perfection of wisdom,
and their friends described as destined to endure forever.3 To
understand how much Penn was wiser than his age, more im
bued with the principles which have found their nobler utter
ances in our own, he must be measured — not only against the
fanatics of his sect, and unlettered men like Fox — but against
the highest types of learning and liberality which it afforded.
Between John Locke and William Penn there is a gulf like
that which separates the seventeenth from the nineteenth cen
tury. Locke never escaped from the thraldom of local ideas ;
the hundred and seventy years which have passed away since
Penn founded the state which bears his name, seem only to
1 Penn to Sidney, October 13, 1681. 2 Ancient Laws of Pennsylvania
3 Blome's America, 138.

WILLIAM PENN. 187
have carried Europe so much nearer to the source from which
his inspirations flowed.
Locke's constitution for Carolina was essentially a tyranny.
It recognized four distinct estates — the proprietors, the great
nobles, the lesser nobles, and the commons.1 The eight pro
prietors were the eight kings of the country ; the dignitary
was hereditary ; on the failure of issue in one, the other seven
were to choose a successor : they constituted a supreme body,
self-elected and immortal, to whom one-fifth of the entire land
in the province — a region larger- than the whole of England,
Wales and Scotland — was to belong permanently and inalien
ably. The oldest proprietor, with the title of palatine and a
large salary, was to exercise the sovereign power. The other
seven were to fill the offices of admiral, chancellor, chamber
lain, constable, chief justice, high steward and treasurer.2
Under these petty sovereigns two orders of nobility were to be
created — being an earl and two barons for every four hundred
and eighty thousand acres of land. Their number was never
to be increased or diminished ; the rank was hereditary ; and
in case of failure of issue, the place was to be supplied solely
out of the privileged class. These nobles were to be invested
with a second fifth part of the soil. Society was to be bound
hand and foot. Estates were not to accumulate or diminish.
The tenants, or small proprietors, were to hold ten acres of
land at a fixed rent ; these tenants were to be called leet-men ;
they were under the complete jurisdiction of their lords, with
out appeal ; no leet-man or leet-woman could go from the soil
on which he or she was located to live elsewhere without a
license from the lord given under his hand and seal ; and it
was added in conformity to the spirit which ruled throughout,
"the children of leet-men shall be leet-men, and so to all
generations."3 Over the negro slaves every freeman had
power of life and death.4
The Executive power rested solely with the Eight. They
had almost absolute control over the administration of justice.
There were seven courts and forty-two counsellors : one of the
Eight presided in each court ; and of the counsellors two-thirds
were chosen by the proprietors and nobles. One aristocratic
1 Fundamental Constitutions. The original copy is in our State Paper
Office, among the Records of the Board of Trade. 2 Ibid.
3 Ibid. Sections 22, 23. 4 Ibid. Section 110.

188 WILLIAM PENN.
court controlled the press, another regulated fashions and
sports. The Grand Council consisted of fifty members — of
which thirty-six represented the aristocracy, and fourteen the
people ; and even these fourteen had to be elected at once and
for life. Power of every kind was removed beyond the reach
of the commons. The cultivators of the soil had no political
rights. Even freeholders could not exercise the franchise unless
they possessed fifty acres of land and upwards ; and no one
was eligible to sit in Parliament unless he owned five hundred
acres and upwards. -Trial by jury was virtually set aside.
Every religion was tolerated — but the Church of England was
declared to be alone true and orthodox ; the only one to be
supported out of the coffers of the State.1 — Such are the great
outlines of this celebrated document. How different to the
constitutions of William Penn ! Locke went back to the feudal
times ; Penn anticipated the modern radicals. The philosopher
of sensation conceived a fixed aristocracy of wealth and power
over-riding the democratic elements of the world ; the disciple
of the inner light had confidence in the virtues of mankind,
and removed every obstacle to the free and full development
of human energies. The project of the first signally failed,
as it deserved to do ; it is now buried under the dust of years ;
the other, slightly modified by events and seasons, lives and
flourishes at the present moment, an example to infant govern
ments, and one of the most precious heir-looms of time.
1 Fundamental Constitutions, Section 96.

WILLIAM PENN. 189

CHAPTER VIII.
1682-1683.
THE HOLY EXPERIMENT.
The great outlines of the new political system being drawn
up, so as not only to meet his own ideas of the nature of a
free and just government, but even to satisfy for the time his
friends Sidney and North, Penn began to organize the emigra
tion. The elements of a great movement were prepared to
his hand. So soon as it was whispered about that the famous
controversialist, the champion of trial by jury, the religious
democrat, had become the sole owner and governor of a mighty
province in the New World, and that he proposed to settle it
on the broadest principles of popular right, men's minds were
kindled with a liberal emthusiasm ; from nearly every great
town of the three Kingdoms, and from many cities on the
Rhine and Holland, agents were despatched to London to
treat with the new lord for lands on which colonies and com
panies proposed to settle. When the concessions were given
to the public several minor companies were formed for the
purpose of emigration. A German company was set on foot
at Frankfort, in which the admirers of Penn at Worms, Kirch
heim and other places visited by him in his travels, were largely
interested. They sent over Franz Pastorius to London to pur
chase for them fifteen thousand acres of land lying in one tract
on a navigable river, and three hundred acres within the liber
ties of the city to be founded by the governor.1 Liverpool,
then a small but rising town, furnished a considerable number
of purchasers and settlers — London still more. A regular
company was organized at Bristol under the name of the Free
Society of Traders in Pennsylvania ; and in the autumn of the
year the proprietor went down to that city to confer with Clay-
pole, Moore, Ford and the rest on the plans to be adopted in
1 Pastorius wrote, in German, a Description of Pennsylvania, which has
recently been translated and reprinted in the Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv.
Part ii. 83. It contains several interesting particulars not otherwise known.

190 WILLIAM PENN.
their novel enterprise. The west of England was even then
famous for its woolen cloths, and while his continental repute
secured a number of emigrants conversant with the most ap
proved modes of cultivating the vine, Penn was anxious to
encourage skillful manufacturers of wool to migrate from the
neighborhood of Bristol and the valley of Stroud. In thfc
early stage of his plans these were the staples on which he
most calculated.1 As freedom for trade as well as freedom
for the person was his desire, he resolutely adhered to his own
sense of right to the detriment of his fortunes. He resisted
every temptation to reserve to himself profitable monopolies,
as in his constitution he had refused to retain official patronage.
A few weeks after the charter was issued, Thurston of Mary
land sent his agent to offer him a fee of 6000?. and 2J per
cent, as rental, if he would allow a- company to be formed with
an exclusive right to the trade in beaver skins between the
Delaware and Susquehanna rivers.2 Other proprietors granted
these monopolies, and his legal right to do so was unquestion
able ; but in his conscience he felt that it was not just, and
although his funds were so low that he was obliged to adopt
a strict economy in his house, he refused the bribe.3 The
Free Society of Traders realized one of his own favorite ideas,
and he afforded the company very great facilities. They
bought out and out twenty thousand acres of land, published
their articles of trade, and immediately commenced prepara
tions for the voyage. A considerable number of persons from
the principality of Wales soon followed this example, — and
before many months were passed, matters had been pushed on
with so much zeal and method that a vessel, filled with emi
grants, was ready to set sail from the port of Bristol.
One of the members of the Free Society of Traders, Philip
Ford, a sleek and subtle scoundrel, not unlike those types of
Quaker villany which were once among the stock properties
of every writer for the stage, became Penn's secretary and
man of business. This person was to him for many years an
evil genius and the cause of loss, disappointment and severe
adversity to his family. Of course his real character was un
suspected by his victim, and he was consequently trusted with
the management of all his more formal and routine affairs.4
1 Pastorius, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv., Part ii.
2 Penn to Turner, Penn. Hist. Soc. i. 205.
3 Ibid. 205, 206. 4 Penn's MS. Statement.

WILLIAM PENN. 191
The emigration from London also commenced in earnest.
So early as April, Penn had sent out his cousin, Colonel Mark
ham, as his lieutenant, with particular instructions to take
possession of the province — to- see and cultivate a friendly
feeling with the Indian kings dwelling in the neighborhood of
the Delaware — to search out a convenient spot of ground on
which to erect a governor's mansion — and to visit and try to
arrange with Lord Baltimore the vexed question of the boun
daries.1 In some respects Markham was an excellent choice for such
offices. Bold, resolute, devoted to the 'proprietor, business
like in his habits, — be was just the man to rule, under ordi
nary circumstances, an infant settlement." When he arrived
in the colony he set about his task with equal zeal and discre
tion. He met the native sachems in solemn council, and
bought from them an ancient royalty on the Delaware, not
many miles below the Falls of Trenton. A regular deed of
conveyance was drawn up, and the price of the land was paid.
On the 1st of August, a confirmation of the sale was made,
and the signatures of all parties having claims on the estate
being obtained, he proceeded to lay out the grounds and com
mence the buildings of Pennsbury.2 With Lord Baltimore
he was less successful : — but he conducted the negociation in
such a way as left a high impression of his capacity.3
With the Quakers >he never grew into a favorite. As the
confidential friend and relative of the proprietor he possessed
claims on their regard which could not decently be set aside ;
but in his own character be gained from them neither sym
pathy nor support. The rigid settlers never forgot that he
was not one of themselves, or that his profession was that of
a soldier and a shedder of blood.
Penn had explained his views to his cousin, not only as to
the arrangements to be made with the English and German
immigrants, but also as to the line of conduct he intended to
pursue with the natives of the soil.4 From the time of Cortez
and Pizarro downwards, the European conquerors of America
had treated the aborigines as their property. Not content
1 Maryland Papers, April 10, State Paper Office.
2 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Partii. 176.
3 Maryland Papers, 1681-6, State Paper Office. Pennsylvania Papers, 161,
State Paper Office.
4 MS. Address to the Indians.

192 WILLIAM PENN.
with robbing them of their lands, their lakes, their hunting-
grounds, their rude ornaments of pearl and gold ; they had
seized their persons and compelled them, under terror of the
rod, to toil and sweat for their pleasure and profit. When
the bolder spirits dared to resent these wrongs and fly from
the faces of their tyrants, they had been hunted down like
wild beasts, and either worried by furious blood-hounds or sent
to find a more lingering and painful death in the mines.
Though less cruel than the Spaniards in their greed of gold,
the English had scarcely proved themselves more just or
rational. Even the Puritan settlers had been at continual
war with the natives of the soil, and more than one scene of
treachery and atrocity stains the memory of the New England
pilgrims.1 Penn, strong in his belief in human goodness,
would not arm his followers even for their own defence. In
his province he had resolved that the sword should cease to
be the symbol of authority ; neither soldier nor implement of
war should be ever seen ;2 he would rely entirely on justice
and courtesy to win the confidence of those whom it had hith
erto been the vice of his countrymen to treat only as enemies.
The world laughed at the enthusiast who thought of placing
his head under the scalping knives of the Lenni Lenape" ; but
his stern lieutenant, who had known something of the horrors
of our civil war, did not despair of success. An eternal wit
ness of Penn's sagacity is the fact, that not one drop of
Quaker blood was ever shed by an Indian !3
In the autumn two other vessels — the John Sarah, of a
hundred tons burden, commanded by Henry Smith, and a
barque called the Amity, Richard Dinan, master, sailed from
the Thames. Penn had now completed his scheme with regard
to the Indians,4 and by the John Sarah he sent out three
commissioners, William Crispin, John Bezar, and Nathaniel
Allen, with written instructions to buy land from them in his
name, to arrange a regular course of trade, and to enter into
treaties of peace and friendship.5 At sea the two vessels
1 See the destruction of the Pequods by fire and sword. Bancroft, i. 400,
et seq.
2 MS. Letter to Crisp, February 28, 1684-5.
3 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 65. This is confirmed by Bancroft, ii. 383.
4 The conditions are dated July 11, 1681.
6 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. ii. 215. All the facts with regard to these com
missioners are misstated by historians. Neither their names nor their num
bers were known until the Hamilton MSS. were found a few years ago.

WILLIAM PENN. 193
parted.1 The Amity was driven by storms among the West
Indian islands, and did not reach the Delaware until the fol
lowing spring.2 The John Sarah was the first to make land
in the New World ; but the Bristol Factor soon afterwards
appeared in the river. A dramatic incident attended their
first experience of the coast. As they slowly ascended the
noble stream, some of the passengers observed a few cottages
on the right bank, forming the Swedish village of Upland,
and it being nearly dark, with a long winter night before
them in unknown waters, they thought it best to pull up and
spend their first vigils for some time on land. While the ad
venturers were enjoying themselves in their several modes on
shore, a sudden frost set in, and next morning they found to
their alarm that the vessel was locked in ice and the river no
longer navigable. The hospitable Swedes offered them such
protection as their scanty homesteads afforded; those who
could not obtain the shelter of a roof, dug holes in the ground
or piled up earth huts ; and here at last they determined to
pass the winter months.3 Many of them were still there
when Penn arrived in the ensuing autumn.
Meanwhile the friends of the Holy Experiment were busy
in England and on the Continent. The indecision of the
Lords of Plantation had left several sources of uncertainty
in the grant. The quarrel with Baltimore seemed to threaten
years of angry and expensive litigation; for between the
Catholic lord and the Quaker proprietor irreconcileable views
as to the nature and scope of government came in to embitter
the more private dispute as to the rights of property. Colonel
Markham held conference after conference with Baltimore,
but without result.4 Each party appealed to his political
friends in England, where the King took part with Penn, and
personally interested himself so far in the matter as to write
several letters to Baltimore about the adjustment of the boun
daries.5 The unsettled claims of the Duke of York were
hardly less important. He had not yet given his consent to
forego his seignorial rights over the province ; besides which
the State Founder considered it essential to the success of his
plans that no hostile power should ever be able to shut his
' Plant. Gen. Papers, B. T. 32. .State Paper Office.
2 Watson's Annals, 14. 3 Ibid.
4 Maryland Papers, v. 60. State Paper Office. 5 Ibid. v. 83, 84.
17

194 WILLIAM PENN.
people out from commerce with the world — an event clearly
possible if the mouth of the Delaware was commanded by an
enemy. To prevent an evil of so much magnitude Penn
sought to obtain from his Royal Highness a grant of the ill-
defined strip of land fronting the Delaware from Coaquannoc
to Cape Henlopen, then called the Territories, but now form
ing the state of Delaware. Months of diplomacy and nego
tiation elapsed before these affairs were arranged with the
agents of the duke ; but on the 24th of August two drafts of
conveyance were drawn up and sent by his Highness to the
Board of Trade, in which he made over all his rights and
titles to these estates to Penn and his heirs forever.1 These
important concessions relieved the new proprietor from every
immediate difficulty. Throughout the whole of the protracted
negotiations and discussions, James behaved like a prince : —
can we wonder that his ward should retain a grateful con
sciousness of obligation !
Fired with new zeal by these happy events, he now pushed
on his preparations for the voyage with redoubled ardor. On
every side the opportunity of doing good presented itself.
His friend Wallis, the famous mathematician, suggested how
much he might do to extend the domains of science. States
men were all at fault as to the geography of America ;2 its na
tural history was hardly better known to scholars. Penn
freely offered to make observations ; and the Royal Society,
then recently founded, admitted him into their ranks.3
A sad event put an end for a short time to these projects :
— the death of Lady Penn. She was a simple, kind-hearted
woman ; good-looking though not beautiful ; and gentle and
affectionate to her son, without understanding his principles
or altogether approving of his conduct. In return he loved
her with that tenderness which strong men always bestow on
women who respect, when they cannot sympathize in their
ideas. When she died he was so unwell for several days as
to be unable to bear the light ; and it was weeks before the
usual calm returned to his heart — the habitual activity to his
brain. 1 Proprietary Papers, B. T. v. 5, fol. 71, 72. State Paper Office.
2 The charters of North and South Carolina each included New York ;
that of Maryland invaded New Netherlands ; Connecticut was made to include
parts of New York and Pennsylvania, and to extend to the Pacific Ocean !
Watson's Annals, 5. 3 MS. Records of Royal Society.

WILLIAM PENN. 195
The vessel which was to take him to America was already
in the Downs. Compared with other ships then navigating
the Atlantic, the Welcome, carrying no' less than three hun
dred tons burden, was considered a stately bark. On the
deck might be seen about a hundred pale and anxious faces,
for it was already getting deep into the autumn, and a winter
voyage was never thought of at that time without a shudder.
They consisted almost entirely, of persons well to do in the
world, and many of them had been used to the daintiest com
forts of life1. As yet the governor had not gone on board ;
but his servants, his furniture, his wine, his horses, his provi
sions, his wardrobe, the carved doors and window-frames, the
whole interior decoration of the house he intended to build
for his own habitation in the new land, were lying about ; and
these mixed up with a thousand other things, animate and in
animate, caused the deck of the Welcome to present a scene
far more exciting and confused than picturesque.
The voyage might last from six to twelve or fourteen weeks
according to wind and weather, and every man had to be pro
visioned for the longer term. It is not to be supposed that
the travelling Friends denied themselves the little consolations
of the larder by the wayside. In a list of creature-comforts
put on board a vessel leaving the Delaware for London on
behalf of a Quaker preacher, are enumerated — 32 fowls, 7
turkeys and 11 ducks, 2 hams, a barrel of China oranges, a
large keg of sweetmeats, ditto of rum, a pot of tamarinds, a'
box of spices, ditto of dried herbs, 18 cocoa-nuts, a box of
eggs, six balls of chocolate, six dried codfish and five shad
dock, six bottles of citron water, four bottles of Madeira, five
dozen of good ale, one large keg of wine and nine pints of
brandy.2 There was also more solid food in the shape of
flour, sheep and hogs. Imagine a hundred emigrants so furn
ished ; the grunting of hogs, the screaming of fowls, the bail
ing of sheep, the gabbling of ducks, the litter of bags and
boxes, the breaking of bottles, the rolling about of barrels
as the vessel heaves and falls with the movement of the water,
the shouts of the sailors, the anxious and dejected faces of
those about to quit forever the land which gave them birth
but denies them a grave : imagine all this, and the reader has
1 Watson's Annals, 65.
2 Thomas Story's MS. Papers.

196 WILLIAM PENN.
a picture of the Welcome as she lay off Deal on the first of
September, 1682, waiting the arrival of the governor.
Every thing being now arranged as to the public duties of
his great mission, the Colonizer gave up his last thoughts in
England to Guli and his children. In an age of easy tran
sits, it is not easy to realize the feelings with which a man
then made the voyage to America. Half a century later the
Yorkshire or Devonshire squire thought it a necessary pre
caution to make his will before starting on a month's trip to
London ; but still more were such painful preparations thought
needful when a man proposed to cross the Atlantic. At first
Penn had wished to take his family out with him, it being his
firm intention to settle in the country ; but more accurate in
formation as to the perils and privations to be encountered by
the first settlers, consideration for Guli's health, then delicate,
and for the education of his children, caused him to abandon
this idea. Yet he was not quite at peace with himself on
leaving them. Death had snatched away two of those to
whose care and protection he could have entrusted them most
confidently: Isaac Pennington and Lady Penn. The ma
ternal grandmother of his little children was however a host
in herself; and on Lady Springett, Thomas Ellwood, and
other attached and faithful friends, he felt that he could rely
in any emergency both for counsel and assistance. Yet, with
these solaces, it was a bitter thing to have at last to part from
his family for months — years — it might be forever ; to en
counter danger in strange and unaccustomed shapes, storms
at sea, tropical fevers, hardships in the wilderness ; more even
than these — as, in the faith of an expounder of new doctrines
— he was about to place himself unarmed, in the power of
half-barbarians, only too much accustomed to appeal to the
tomahawk and the scalping knife in their intercourse with
Europeans, — and though a fervent believer in the native vir
tues of the Red Indian, when treated with truth and fairness,
he could not help feeling that before he could have time to
impress their rude minds with confidence in his integrity of
purpose, some unfortunate mischance might lead to sudden
and serious mischief. All these contingencies weighed on his
mind ;. but he had taken his measures while looking them full
in front : they caused him much anxiety at the hour of his
departure, but they never for a moment led him to waver in
his purpose.

WILLIAM PENN. 197
He made his arrangements as if he were never to return.
His hope was to prepare a home for those he was now about
to leave behind in England, and on a future day return for
them ; but as, in the meantime, he was doubtful whether Pro
vidence had not designed this to be his final leave, he wrote
out at considerable length his parting admonitions to his wife
and children. This testament is full of wise and noble coun
sels, earnestly and tenderly offered.1 As he foresaw that the
Holy Experiment would be a drain on his private means, he
wishes Guli to be economical, though not parsimonious, in her
household. She is to make one great exception however ; in
the education of the children she is to spare no cost ; but he
desires that the education be useful and practical ; Springett
and William are to acquire a sound knowledge of building,
ship-carpentry, measuring, levelling, surveying and naviga
tion ; but he desires that their chief attention be directed to
agriculture; Letty was to pay attention to the affairs of a
household as well as to the accomplishments of her sex : " Let
my children be husbandmen and house-wives." In his part
ing moments he did not forget that his little children would
one day become the rulers of his province, — and his wishes on
this subject were recorded for their guidance with more than
ordinary emphasis. "As for you," he writes, "who are likely
to be concerned in the government of Pennsylvania, I do
charge you before the Lord God and his holy angels, that
you be lowly, diligent, and tender, fearing God, loving the
people and hating covetousness. Let justice -have its impar
tial course, and the law free passage. Though to your loss,
protect no man against it ; for you are not above the law, but
the law above you. Live therefore the lives yourselves you
would have the people live, and then you have right and bold
ness to punish the transgressor. Keep upon the square, for
God sees you : therefore do your duty, and be sure you see
with your own eyes, and hear with your own ears. Entertain
no lurchers ; cherish no informers for gain or revenge ; use no
tricks; fly to no devices to support or cover injustice; but let
your hearts be upright before the Lord, trusting in him above
the contrivances of men, and none shall be able to hurt or
supplant you."
On the first of September, the Welcome weighed anchor at
1 This letter was first printed in the London Chronicle in 1761.
17*

198 WILLIAM PENN.
Deal, passed the Foreland with a light breeze, and Dover
Castle fading gradually from the emigrant's sight, he pushed
out boldly to sea", the weather being fine and the captain pro
mising a rapid and prosperous voyage. Penn felt lighter at
heart the moment they lost sight of land. He had left behind
him active and powerful enemies, as well as faithful and noble
friends ; and he was not sorry to escape from the atmosphere
in which he had of late been constrained to live.1 Little time,
however, had he to indulge in reminiscences ; events around
him Boon began to tax his powers of mind and body in an un
expected and extraordinary manner. While waiting at Deal
they had unfortunately shipped the smallpox, that terrible
ravager of the seas in those times. At first the disease de
veloped itself rather mildly, and the voyage was continued ;
but before they had reached the middle of the Atlantic nearly
every man, woman, and child was sick. During two or three
weeks some one died every day; and the burial service never
ceased for thirty hours together. Of the hundred passengers
on board, more than thirty fell victims. Cramped up in nar
row crowded cabins, it was impossible to prevent the contagion
spreading. All the care, the attention, the stores of the
governor were bestowed on the sufferers. He went into the
cabins to administer medicines, and to afford the solaces of
religion to the dying. In this pious labor he was greatly as
sisted by his friend Pearson, an emigrant from Chester ; for
whose services he afterwards provided a characteristic reward.
Want of room and more complete medical supervision kept
the malady above their power ; and the first glance of the
low well-wooded banks of the Delaware was hailed with the
rapture of men yet struggling with the mortal dread of death.
The survivors never forgot the horrors of this passage. Fifty
years or more after the event, old people used still to speak
of it with fear and trembling.2
On the 27th of October, nine weeks after the departure
from Deal, the Welcome moored off Newcastle, in the territo
ries lately ceded by the Duke of York, and William Penn
first set foot in the New World.3 His landing made a general
1 Henry Sidney's Diary and Correspondence, ii. 194.
2 Watson, 16 ; Day, 300.
3 Watson, 16 ; Day, 299. The landing of Penn in America is commemo
rated on the 24th of October, that being the date given by Clarkson ; but the
diligent antiquary, Mr. J. F. Watson, has found in the records of Newcastle
the original entry of his arrival.

WILLIAM PENN. 199
holiday in the town ; young and old, Welch, Dutch, English,
Swedes, and Germans, crowded down to the landing-place,
each eager to catch a glimpse of the great man who had come
amongst them, less as their lord and governor than as their
friend. American history affords no finer subject for a great
national cartoon than this scene presents. In the centre of
the foreground, only distinguished from the few companions
of his voyage who have yet landed, by the nobleness of his
mien, and a light blue silken sash tied round his waist, stands
William Penn; erect in stature, every motion indicating
courtly grace, his countenance lighted up with hope and ho
nest pride, — in every limb and feature the expression of a
serene and manly beauty.1 The young officer before him,
dressed in the gay costume of the English service, is his lieu
tenant, Markham, come to welcome his relative to the new
land and to give an account of his own stewardship. On the
right stand the chief settlers of the district, arrayed in their
national costumes, the light hair and quick eye of the Swede
finding a good foil in the'stolid look of the heavy Dutchman,
who doffs his cap, but doubts whether he shall take the pipe
out of his mouth even to say welcome to the new governor.,
A little apart, as if studying with the intense eagerness of
Indian skill the physiognomy of the ruler who has come with
his children to occupy their hunting-grounds, stands the wise
and noble leader of the Red Men, Taminent, and a party of
the Lenni Lenape' in their picturesque paints and costume.
Behind the central figure are grouped the principal compa
nions of his voyage ; and on the dancing waters of the Dela
ware rides the stately ship, while between her and the shore
a multitude of light canoes dart to and fro, bringing the pas
sengers and merchandise to land. Part of the background
shows an irregular line of streets and houses, the latter with
the pointed roofs and fantastic gables which still delight the
artist's eye in the streets of Leyden or Rotterdam ; and fur
ther on the view is lost in one of those grand old pine and
cedar forests which belong essentially to an American scene.2
There are many fine elements for the artist's purposes in such
a theme : beauty, novelty, variety, and historic interest ; land,
wood, water ; motion, life, repose ; national and personal cha-
1 The portrait by West is utterly spurious and unlike. Granville Penn MSS.
' 2 Duponceau, in one of his discourses, suggests this scene for an historical
picture.

200 WILLIAM PENN.
racteristics, nature in its most picturesque forms, civilization,
in its highest expression — are all grouped, compared and con
trasted in this striking scene.
Next day the people were called together in the Dutch
court-house, when the legal formalities of taking possession
were gone through to the satisfaction of all present. The
deeds and charters were produced and read aloud. The agents
of the Duke of York surrendered the territory in their mas
ter's name b^y the usual form of earth and water.1 His great
and undefined powers thus legally established, Penn rose and
addressed the people amid the profoundest silence. He spoke
of the reasons for his coming — the great idea which he had
nursed from his youth upwards— his desire to found a free
and virtuous state, in which the people should rule themselves ;
he then explained the nature of his powers, but assured his
audience of his wish to exercise them only provisionally and
for the general good. He adverted to the frame of govern
ment which he had published for Pennsylvania as containing
his theory of government ; and promised the settlers on the
lower reaches of the Delaware that the same principles should
be adopted in the organization of their territory. Every man,
he said, in his provinces, should enjoy liberty of conscience
and his fair share of political power ; and as an earnest of
his intention to proceed on fixed and just principles in the
government of his colony, he ended by renewing in his own
name the commissions of all the existing magistrates.2
The people listened to this speech with wonder and delight.
They were many of them but rude and illiterate husbandmen ;
but that old northern instinct which had led them from the
Rhine, the Elbe, the Zuyder Zee, and the Dahl to seek for
freedom on the shores of the Delaware, told them a new era
had commenced with the landing of the English Governor.
They had but one request to make in answer to his explana
tions, and that was that he would reign over them in person,
and with this view they besought him to annex their territory
to Pennsylvania, that they might have one country, one par
liament, one ruler. He promised, at their desire, to take the.
question of a union of the two provinces into consideration,
and to submit it to the assembly which was about to meet at
Upland. And so he took his leave.3
1 Hazard, v. 79. 2 Watson, 16 ; Besse, 123. 3 Watson, 16.

WILLIAM PENN. 201
Ascending the Delaware at their leisure, enjoying the rich
beauty of nature as every bend in the river brought some
new charm to sight, and breathing the mild air of that climate
after their terrible voyage, the adventurers soon arrived at
the little Swedish town of Upland or Optland, at that time
the place of greatest importance in the province. Here the
governor and his friends were hospitably received and lodged
in the house of Mr. Wade. The place where he stepped on
shore, marked by a single pine, is still shown to the stranger
with honest and patriotic pride. Wishing to mark the fact
by some striking circumstance, he turned round to his com
panion Pearson, a man equally eminent for his free spirit and
his humane virtues, and observed — "Providence has brought
us safely here ; thou hast been the companion of my toils ;
what wilt thou that I should call this place?" After a mo
ment's thought, the modesty of Pearson not allowing him to
propose his own name, he replied — "Chester; in remem
brance of the city whence I came." So Penn changed the
name from Upland to Chester, by which the town is still
known.1 Markham and the commissioners had done their work so
well, that in a very short time after the arrival, the first Ge
neral Assembly, elected by universal suffrage, was ready to
meet. As the most commodious building in Chester, the
Friends' Meeting House, a plain brick edifice, fronting the
Creek, and opposite to Wade's House, where Penn remained
a guest, was selected for the purpose.2 Nicholas Moore, an
English lawyer, and already chairman to the Society of Tra
ders, was elected speaker ;3 and as soon as the governor had
given them assurances similar to those made in Newcastle,
they proceeded with more dignity than could have been ex
pected in so inexperienced a body to discuss, amend, and ac
cept the Frame of Government and the Provisional Laws
already published in England. The settlers in the lower ter
ritories on the Delaware sent representatives to the Assembly,
and one of its first acts was to declare the two provinces
united.4 The Constitution was adopted without important
alteration ; and to the forty laws were added twenty-one
1 Day's Collection, 300, 301. 2 Day's Collection, 301. 3 Watson, 17.
4 Proprietary Papers, B. T. v. 5. State Paper Office. For a copy of the
Act of Union, see Hazard's Register, i. 480.

202 WILLIAM PENN.
others, and the whole body passed in due form. The laws
only regulated the practical working of the ideas and princi
ples embodied in the Frame of Government ; the chief of
them providing — that every man should be free to believe in
any doctrines whatever not destructive of the peace and honor
of civil society ; that every Christian man of twenty-one years,
unstained by crime, should be eligible to elect or be elected a
member of the Colonial Parliament; every child of twelve
years old, rich or poor, should be instructed in some useful
trade or skilly all work being honorable in a democratic state
and idleness a shame ; all fees of law were to be fixed at a
low rate, and hung up in every court of justice; persons
wrongly imprisoned were to have double damages from the
prosecutor ; prisons were to be changed from nurseries of vice,
idleness, and misery, into houses of industry, honesty, and
education. With fearless confidence, these young legislators
adopted the humane views of their governor even where they
seemed to be least supported by tradition and experience.
The English penal laws — then and long afterwards a disgrace
to our statute book — were entirely at variance with Penn's
ideas ; and at one stroke he blotted out the whole catalogue
of crimes punished with the cord except two, — murder and
treason. The Assembly passed a law embodying this humane
and enlightened policy,1 and also a general act of naturaliza
tion for aliens. There was little talk and much work in this
first Pennsylvanian parliament. On the third day their ses
sion was completed, and Penn prorogued them in person.
They had left their ploughs for half a week ; they had met
together and founded a State ; they went back -to their homes
confident that they had secured to themselves and their pos
terity the blessings of civil and religious freedom.2
The reader of our country's history will not need to be re
minded how securely the moral sentiment and state policy of
England have developed themselves in the wake of these
ideas. Toleration in Penn's day -was only the creed of those
who doubted all things : religious men, of every shade, denied
it, as a suggestion of the evil spirit. Locke could ask for
charity towards error, because he found no certitude in truth ;
but earnest, zealous Christians, holding God's Word to be in
fallible, could show no mercy to the unbeliever. Governor
1 Votes and Proceedings of the House of Representatives. 2 Watson, 17.

WILLIAM PENN. 203
Bradford, one of the noblest of the Pilgrim Fathers, de
nounced the folly of toleration, as tending to misrule and con
fusion.1 Endicott on one occasion said to his prisoner for
conscience' sake — " Renounce your religion or die."2 Presi
dent Oakes " looked upon toleration as the first-born of all
abominations."3 These were all statesmen and governors :
the clergy were still less charitable to error. The intolerance
of the old catholic and episcopal parties in England is suf
ficiently well known ; but it is doing them no wrong to say,
that the cruelties exercised by the stern religious martyrs of
the New World, on men who differed from them in the slight
est degree, were not unworthy the best days of the Star
Chamber and the Court of Inquisition.4 Penn was equally
before his sect and country. It is only in our own time that
an act of Parliament — not freely conceded, as from just and
honorable conviction, but extorted by the threat of a new
civil war — has formally banished religious belief from the
tests of loyalty and restrictions on the exercise of political
power. It remained for Howard, Eden, and Romilly, more
than a century after the Colonial Assembly first met in Ches
ter, to introduce his humane and judicious principles into the
administration of our prisons and the reformation of our penal
code. And with all our wealth, power and glory as a nation,
we have not yet provided for the public education of our chil
dren, or admitted every Christian man of twenty-one years,
and free from crime, to the exercise of the elective franchise !
The Assembly prorogued, Penn paid a few visits to the
neighboring seats of government in New York, Maryland,
and the Jerseys. At West River, Lord Baltimore came forth
to meet him with a great retinue of the chief persons in the
province. Colonel Failler offered the hospitalities of his man
sion in the Ridge, Anne Arundel county, to the illustrious
visitors, and there they held a long and spirited conference ;
but it was found impossible to adjust their differences as to
the great question of boundary, and the two proprietors sepa
rated with the resolution each to maintain his own right.5
Penn now set himself resolutely to the work of reducing his
1 Hist, of Boston, 49. 2 Sewell, Hist. Quakers.
3 Belknap's Hist. New Hampshire, i. 71-5.
4 Compare Knowles's Life of Roger Williams, 184-9. Mass. Hist. Coll. iii.
53-5, First Series.
5 Maryland Papers, B. T. B. C. P. 3. State Paper Office.

204 WILLIAM PENN.
magnificent wilderness into a State. He had sent out a sur
veyor, Thomas Holme, some months before he himself left
England, and this able servant, assisted by Markham and the
other commissioners, had already held interviews with the In
dian sachems, made extensive purchases of land, and acquired
so much knowledge of the interior as to enable him to divide
the whole province into counties.1 The land was next put up
for sale at four pence an acre, with a reserve of one shilling
for every hundred acres as quit-rent : the latter intended to
form a state revenue for the support of governor and pro
prietor.2 In marking out the various estates, Penn set apart
certain and equal lots for each of his children. Two manors
of ten thousand acres each, he reserved as a present for his
guardian, the Duke of York.3 And in the midst of these
sales and settlements it is pleasing to find that he did not for
get his old friend George Fox, for whose use and profit he set
aside a thousand acres of the best land in the province, free
of all claims for quit-rent, costs of transfer, or even of title-
deeds. But the subject which occupied his most serious thoughts,
was the site for his new city. Markham and others had col
lected a variety of information bearing on the point, accord
ing to his express instructions.4 There were not wanting men
who wished to see Chester made the capital of the province ;
but the surveyor, Thomas Holme, agreed with Penn, that the
best locality, in almost every respect, was the narrow neck of
land lying at the junction of the Delaware and the Schuyl
kill.5 These rivers were both navigable, at least for small
vessels ; the Delaware being a noble stream, and the Schuyl
kill at that time as broad at its mouth as the Thames at
Woolwich.6 In other respects the site met his preconceived
requirements : — facing the minor stream, the bank was bold
and high, the air pure and wholesome, the neighboring lands
were free from swamp, clay for making into brick was found
on the spot, and immense quarries of good stone abounded
within a few miles. These advantages not being found else
where, Penn soon decided in its favor, and taking an open
boat at Chester creek, dropped down the river to the spot
1 Penn to Sunderland, July 28, 1683. 2 Watson, 13.
3 Penn to Lord Hyde, February 12, 1683.
4 A copy of these instructions is printed in Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem.
5 Day's Collections, 544-6. 6 Penn to Sunderland, July 28.

WILLIAM PENN. 205
then called by the Indians, Wecacoae.1 The land was owned
by three worthy _Swedes, from whom the governor purchased
it on their own terms ; and then with the assistance of Holme
drew out his plan. In everything that related to his Holy
Experiment, Penn thought on a grand scale. Not content
to begin humbly, and allow house to be added to house, and
street to street, as the exigences of the day might require, he
had formed the whole scheme of his city — its name, its form,
its streets, its docks and open spaces — fair and perfect in his
mind, before a single stone was laid, or a pine-tree had been
felled to make room for it.
According to the original design, Philadelphia was to have
covered with its houses, squares, and gardens, about twelve
square miles. Two noble streets, one of them facing an un
rivalled row of red pines, were to front the rivers ; a great
public thoroughfare alone separating the houses from then-
banks. These streets were to be connected by the High
Street, a magnificent avenue, perfectly straight, and a hun
dred feet in width, to be adorned with lines of trees and
gardens surrounding the dwelling-houses. At a right angle
with the High Street, Broad Street, of equal width, was to
cut the city in two from north to south. It was thus divided
into four sections. In the exact centre a large public square
of ten acres was reserved ; and in the middle of each quarter
a similar square of eight acres was set apart for the comfort
and recreation of posterity. Eight streets, fifty feet wide,
were to be built parallel to Broad Street, and twenty of the
same width, parallel to the rivers.2 He encouraged the build
ing of detached houses, with rustic porches and trailing plants
about them ; his desire being to see Philadelphia " a greene
country towne."3
The arrivals began to increase rapidly ere a house was
built or a cave dug in which to shelter the comers from the
cold of winter. As soon as it was known that the Governor
had set out for his province, hundreds of persons in the old
country prepared to follow him ; and since the spring not less
than twenty-three vessels had entered the Delaware, filled
with immigrants, most of them anxious to remain at the new
city.4 The suffering of these people must have been great,
1 Day's Collections, 546. 3 Holme's Portraiture of Philadelphia, 1683-4.
2 Day's Coll. 544. 4 Watson, 17.
18

206 WILLIAM PENN.
but they bore it with exemplary resolution. In the high bank
of the Schuylkill nature had formed a number of caves, and
these were now eagerly seized by some of the colonists, and
made as habitable as circumstances would permit ; others en
camped under the branches of the huge pines, and he blessed
his stars who had been fortunate enough to secure the shelter
of a tree in the vicinity of the house he was building.1 No
thing could daunt their spirits. Delicate women, used to all
the luxuries of the earth in England, went out to help their
fathers and husbands ; they brought in wood and water ; they
cooked with their own hands ; they tended sheep and pigs,
game and poultry, with the alacrity of negroes ; some of them
acted as laborers while the house was building, anxious to
carry mortar, or lend a hand to saw a block of wood.2 If a
murmur ever once arose, the thought of that " woful Europe"
which they had left behind, soon checked it ; and all worked
on cheerily. Before such enthusiasm every obstacle must
give way ; and in a marvellously short space of time every
family had found some sort of shelter from the fury of win
ter.3 The first place completed was used as a tavern, a ferry-
house, and general place of business. For many years the
Blue Anchor maintained a high reputation in the province;
beer-house, exchange, corn-market, post-office, and landing-
place, all combined, this house soon became the key of the
infant city, and was intimately connected with the leading in
cidents of its early history. This important building was
formed of large rafters of wood, the interstices being filled
with bricks brought from England, in the manner of Cheshire
houses of the Tudor and Stuart periods. It had twelve feet
of frontage towards the river, and it stood full twenty-two
feet backwards into what was afterwards called Dock Street.4
The modern magnates of Philadelphia may smile at the hum
ble dimensions of a house of so much interest to their ances
tors, but posterity will feel forever grateful to the founder of
the city, that -in an age of means so limited, and results so
small, he still clung to his own grand conceptions, and laid
down the outlines of his city with as much order and presci
ence as if he had been conscious that he was rearing the capi-
' Story, MSS. 2 Ibid. Watson, -52-3.
3 Penn to the Society of Traders, August 16. 4 Watson, 124.

WILLIAM PENN. 207
tal of a mighty empire. Other houses, such as they were,
were soon completed. Within a few months of the founda
tion, Penn could announce to the Society of Traders that
eighty houses and cottages were ready ; that the merchants
and craftsmen had fallen into the regular exercise of their
callings ; that the farmers had laid out and partly cleared
their lands ; that ships were continually arriving with goods
and passengers ; and that plentiful crops had already been
obtained from the soil.1 A spirited settler, named Carpenter,
built a fine quay, three hundred feet long, by the side of
which a vessel of five hundred tons could be safely moored.
The first mayor of the town made a rope-walk ; and stone
houses, with pointed roofs, balconies, and porches, soon ceased
to excite wonder.2 In one year from Penn's landing at New
Castle, a hundred houses had been built, the whole plan of
the future city laid out, sixty vessels of light or heavy tonnage
had arrived in the Delaware, and more than three hundred
farms were well settled.3 Two years later there were already
six hundred houses in Philadelphia.4 The Governor's corres
pondence with his friends in England is full of honest exul
tation. To Lord Halifax he writes — " I must, without vanity,
say, I have led the greatest colony into America that ever any
man did on private credit;"5 and to Lord Sunderland he says
— " With the help of God and such noble friends, I will show
a province in seven years equal to her neighbor's of forty
years' planting."6
But the material growth of his city occupied only a
part of Penn's attention. He took early and regular steps)
for the protection of morals and the promotion of arts and
scholarship. Before the pines had been cleared from the
ground he began to build schools and set up a printing press.7
These were not the least marvellous of the novelties intro
duced into Philadelphia. In other American settlements such
luxuries had slowly followed in the wake of great physical
prosperity. In December, 1683, Enoch Flower opened his
school in a rude hut, formed of pine and cedar planks, and
divided into two apartments by a wooden partition. The
' Penn to Free Society of Traders, August 16, 1683.
2 Watson, 66, 67. 3 Penn to Lord North, September 1683.
4 Turner to Penn, Aug. 3, 1685. 6 February 9, 1683. 6 July 28, 1683.
' Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 101. An able article on the early literary his
tory of Pennsylvania, by Thomas J. Wharton.

208 WILLIAM PENN.
Philadelphian of the present age, educated in the elaborate
courses of Girard's College, may smile at the simplicity of
Enoch's charges and curriculum, though his ancestors thought
even such small matters worthy of a place in their minutes of
council : " To . learn to read, four shillings a quarter : to
write, six shillings : boarding a scholar, to wit — diet, lodging,
washing and schooling, ten pounds the whole year."1
Six years afterwards a public school or college was founded,
in which the famous George Keith was the first master. The
office of teacher was held in the highest estimation. He was
allowed fifty pounds a year, a house for his family, and a set
of school-rooms, over and above all the profits made by the
scholars ; in addition to which he received a guarantee that
his total income should never fall below a hundred and twenty
pounds in any year — a very considerable sum in those days
in a society so small and primitive in its habits.2 William
Bradford, a native of Leicester, who went out with Penn in
the Welcome, was the first printer to set up his art in the
colony. It is worthy of remark that in Massachusetts, where
learning and the arts have ever been cultivated with success,
no book or paper was printed until eighteen years after its
settlement ; in New York seventy-three years elapsed ere a
press was got to work; in every other colony founded by
England the interval was much greater: the governors of
Virginia and Maryland set their faces against it in pious
horror.3 The first book printed in Philadelphia was an
Almanac for 1687, and must therefore have been printed in
the preceding year. The schism of George Keith soon found
more exciting work for Bradford, and from that time forward
there was no rest for the printing-press in Pennsylvania.4
Another institution which he established deserved to be classed
with his intellectual legislation. The post-office had been at
work in England but a few years ; yet so convinced was Penn
of its utility that he at once issued his orders to Henry Waldy
to run the post and supply travellers with horses. It is in
teresting to go back a few years and see how things were
managed in the good old times. From the Falls of Trenton
to Philadelphia the carriage of a letter was charged three
pence — to Chester five-pence — to Newcastle seven-pence —
1 Quoted in Proud, i. 345. 2 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 103.
3 Ibid. i. 104, 105.
4 Thomas, Hist, of Printing ; also Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 105 et seq.

WILLIAM PENN. 209
to Maryland nine-pence ; from Philadelphia to Chester two
pence — to Newcastle four-pence — to Maryland six-pence. The
post travelled once a week I1
A curious trial which happened a few months after the
arrival of the Welcome, served in its way to show the settlers
that a new era had commenced. A wretched old woman was
brought into court on an accusation of witchcraft a few days
after Enoch Flower had opened his school. The poor Swedes
had come out to the new world with the superstitious terrors
of their northern solitudes fresh in their minds — and the
woman being a restless and troublesome creature, they took it
into their heads that she must be a witch. It is but fair to
these poor Swedes to say that wiser people than themselves
believed in witchcraft both then and long afterwards. At that
very period, Cotton Mather, after coquetting himself with the
evil spirit, began to pursue witches with the fury of one pos
sessed in the polished cities of Boston, Salem, and other places
in Massachusetts.2 Learned divines both in America and in
England printed their belief in " a God, a devil — and witch
craft;" even the enlightened Richard Baxter reprinted in
England the rubbish written by Mather in America, accom
panied by his own confession of faith in the statements put
forth. George Fox, as is well known, believed in witches and
in his own power to contend with and overcome them ; and
judges of civilized nations sent old women to the stake for
this offence fifty years later.3 No wonder then that a few
ignorant Swedes, in a land of intellectual darkness, should
have preferred such a charge against a troublesome old
woman, whose conduct was to them equally annoying and
unintelligible. It was fortunate for the prisoner that she was
not to be tried for her life at Charlestown or Boston.
Penn presided at the trial, and to provide against any dis
satisfaction with the verdict, the jury was composed partly of
English and partly of Swedes. The whole case was gone into ;
witnesses, sadly ignorant and vindictive for the most part,
were examined and re-examined; the governor summed up
and the jury retired to find a verdict against the woman of
being guilty of having the common reputation of witchcraft, but
not guilty in manner and form as she stood indicted. Her
1 Pemberton MSS. Watson, 626. 2 Mather's Discourse, p. 10.
3 Voltaire's Louis XIV. c. 29. Addison in Spectator, No. 117. Black
stone. iv. 60. 18*

210 WILLIAM PENN.
friends were simply required to give securities for her that
she would keep the peace.1 From that day to this, we are
assured by Bancroft, no hag has ever ridden through the air
on goat or broomstick in Penn's domain, and the blackest
dealers in magic have pretended to no power beyond the art
of telling fortunes to servant girls, muttering charms over
quack medicines, or finding with the divining rod the lost
treasures of the buccaneers.2
While these concerns were in progress, Penn held much
and cordial intercourse with the Indians. Putting away the
formal stiffness of English manners, he won their simple
hearts by his easy confidence and familiar bearing. He
walked with them alone into the forests. He sat with them
on the ground to watch the young men dance and perform
their exercises. He joined in their feasts, and ate of their
roasted acorns and hominy. When they expressed their
rapturous delight at seeing the great Onas — the native name
of Penn — imitate their national customs, not to be outdone in
any of those feats of personal prowess which the Red Men
value so highly, he rose from his seat, entered the list with
the leapers, and beat them all ; at seeing which the younger
warriors could hardly control the extravagance of their ad
miration.3 Colonel Markham had already completed his purchase of
land, and entered with the natives into a treaty of peace and
amity.4 When he had explained to them the beneficent in
tentions of the great man who was coming to live and trade
with them ; when he had told them that, although his King
had granted him the whole country, from the Cape of Hen-
lopen to those distant regions stretching away beyond the
great mountains to the northern lakes, of which they had
some remote tradition, still he would not take from them by
force a single rood of their ancient hunting-grounds, but
would buy it from them with their full consent and goodwill ;
when he had told them the great Onas would never allow his
children to wrong the Indians, to cheat them of their fish,
their wild game, or their beaver skins by lies in the market-
1 Colonial Records, i. 40. 2 Bancroft, ii. 391.
3 Mrs. Preston in Watson, 73. Mr. Watson is alarmed at "such light
gayety in a sage governor and a Christian chief." I see in this incident a
trait in perfect keeping with all the rest of his character.
4 Smith's Laws of Pennsylvania, 109.

WILLIAM PENN. 211
place, or refuse to pay them the fair price for every article
purchased ; that in his just mind he had ordained that when
a quarrel arose between a white man and a red one, twelve
men, six Indians and six English, should meet together and
judge which of them was in the right, and settle the matter
accordingly ; and finally, when he had laid before them the
presents which he had brought as a sign of amity and good
will, the sachems gave the wampum belt to the young colonel,
and replied with the emphasis of sincerity, " We will live in
peace with Onas and his children as long as the sun and moon
shall endure."1
Beyond this purchase Penn felt that, for the moment, it
would be eminently unwise to urge the natives. Their hunt
ing-grounds were dear to them, though of little use. Had he
shown an eager desire to possess their lands before he had
personally acquired their friendship, suspicions would have
been engendered in their minds, not easily to be allayed after
wards. The experiment he had to conduct was so novel that
the minutest circumspection was needful at every step. It
would have been madness to risk offendingsthe Iroquois, while
the settlers refused to wear arms even in their own defence.
It was not until he had been upwards of seven months in the
country that he made fresh proposals for the purchase of their
unoccupied lands, though more than one treaty of peace and
amity had been made by his lieutenant and the commissioners
before his arrival. As he had now become intimate with Ta
minent and other of the native kings, who cordially approved
of these treaties, seeing in them great advantages for their
own people, he proposed to hold a solemn conference with the*
chiefs and warriors, to confirm the former treaties and form
with them a lasting league of peace and friendship.2
On the banks of the Delaware, in the suburbs of the rising
city of Philadelphia, was a fine natural amphitheatre, used
from time immemorial as a place of meeting for the native
tribes. The name of Sakimaxing — now corrupted by the white
men into Shackamaxon — has a royal signification, meaning
the locality of kings.3 At this spot stood one of those glorious
1 Smith's Laws of Pennsylvania, 109. MS. Address to the Indians. The
right of a foreigner to have a jury, de mediatate lingual, was disputed in the
courts, but a judicial decision confirmed its legality. Dall. Reports, 73.
2 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 145-204.
3 Ibid. 183, where this etymology is defended.

212 WILLIAM PENN.
elms which so pre-eminently mark the forests of the New
World. It was already one hundred and fifty-five years old ;x
under its spreading branches friendly nations had been wont
to meet, to arrange differences, and" smoke the calumet of
peace, long before the pale faces had landed on those shores.
With the tact which ever distinguished him, Markham had
appointed this locality for his first conference with the Indians ;
and the land commissioners wisely followed his example. Old
traditions had made the place sacred to one of the contracting
parties, — and when Penn proposed his solemn conference, he
named Sakimaxing as a matter of course for its locality.2
This conference has become one of the most striking scenes
in history. Artists have painted, poets have sung, philosophers
have applauded it ; but it is nevertheless clear, that in words
and colors it has been equally and generally misrepresented^
because painters, poets, and historians have chosen to draw on
their own imaginations for the features of a scene, every mark
ing line of which they might have recovered from authentic
sources. The great outlines of nature are easily obtained. There
the dense masses of cedar, pine, and chestnut, stretching far
away into the interior of the land ; here the noble river rolling
its waters down to the Atlantic ocean ; along its surface rose
the purple smoke of the settlers' homesteads ; on the opposite
shores lay the fertile and settled country of East New Jersey.
Here stood the gigantic elm which was to become immortal
from that day forward, — and there lay the verdant council
chamber formed by nature on the surface of the soil. In the
icentre stood William Penn ; in costume undistinguished from
the surrounding group, save by the silken sash. His costume
was simple, but not pedantic or ungainly. An outer coat,
reaching to the knees, and covered with buttons ; a vest of
other materials, but equally ample ; trousers extremely full,
slashed at the sides, and tied with strings or ribbons; a pro
fusion of shirt sleeve and ruffles, — with a hat of the cavalier
shape (wanting only the feather), from beneath the brim of
which escaped the curls of a new peruke, — were its chief and
hot ungraceful ingredients.3 At his right hand stood Colonel
1 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 97.
2 The site of the Great Treaty has been much disputed. I believe in Shac-
kamaxbn. The evidence is collected by Day, 548 ; Watson, 125 ; and Vaux
in Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 79 et seq.
3 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 76.

WILLIAM PENN. 213
Markham, who had met the Indians in council more than once
on that identical spot, and was regarded by them as a firm
and faithful friend ; on his left Pearson, the intrepid compan
ion of his voyage ; and near his person, but a little backward,
a band of his most attached adherents. When the Indians
approached in their old forest costume, their bright feathers
sparkling in the sun, and their bodies painted in the most gor
geous manner, the governor received them with the easy dig
nity of one accustomed to mix with European courts. As soon
as the reception was over, the sachems retired to a short dis
tance, and after a brief consultation among themselves, Tami
nent, the chief sachem or king, a man whose virtues are still
remembered by the sons of the forest, advanced again a few
paces, and put upon his own head a chaplet, into which was
twisted a small horn ; this chaplet was his symbol of power ;
and in the customs of the Lenni Lenape*, whenever the chief
placed it upon his brows, the spot became at once sacred, and
the person of every one present inviolable.1 The venerable
Indian king then seated himself on the ground, with the older
sachems on his right and left ; the middle-aged warriors ranged
themselves in the form of a crescent, or half-moon, round
them ; and the younger men formed a third and outer semi
circle. All being seated in this striking and picturesque order,
the old monarch announced to the governor that the natives
were prepared to hear and consider his words.2 Penn then
rose to address them, his countenance beaming with all the
pride of manhood. He was at this time thirty-eight years old ;
light and graceful in form; "the handsomest, best-looking,
most lively gentleman" she had ever seen, wrote a lady who
was an eye-witness of the ceremony.3 He addressed them in
their own language ; the topics were few and simple ; and the
beauty of his ideas would compensate with such an audience
for the minor errors of diction.4 The Great Spirit, he said,
who ruled in the heaven to which good men go after death,
1 Heckwelder. Hist, of Six Nations.
2 Penn to Sunderland, July 28, 1683.
3 Mrs. Preston in Watson, 72. West's picture is abominable. Penn is
represented as an ugly, fat old fellow, —and the costumes are half a century
out of date. — Clarkson, who had conversed with West on the subject [Penn.
Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Partii.], wrote his description to agree with the painting.
It is full of errors. The essay by Messrs. Fisher and Duponceau is quite con
vincing. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Partii. 145.
4 Penn to Society of Traders, August 16, 1683.

214 WILLIAM PENN.
who had made them and him out of nothing, and who knew
every secret thought that was in the heart of white man or red
man, knew that he and his children had a strong desire to live
in peace, to be their friends, to-do no wrong, but to serve them
in every way to the extent of their power. As the Great
Spirit was the common Father of all, he wished them to live
together not merely as brothers, as the children of a common
parent, but as if they were joined with one head, one heart,
one body together ; that if ill was done to one all would suffer,
if good was done to any all would gain. He and his children,
he went on to say, never used the rifle or trusted to the sword ;
they met the red men on the broad path of good faith and
goodwill. They intended to do no harm, and they had no
fear in their hearts. They believed that their brothers of the
red race were just, and they were prepared to trust in their
friendship.1 — He then unfolded the writing of the treaty of
friendship, and explained its clauses one after the other. It
recited that from that day the children of Onas and the nations
of the Lenni Lenape" should be brothers to each other, — that
all paths should be free and open, — that the doors of the white
men should be open to the red men, and the doors of the red
men should be open to the white men, — that the children of
Onas should not believe any false reports of the Lenni Lenape",
nor the Lenni Lenape" of the children of Onas, but should come
and see for themselves as brothers to brothers, and bury such
false reports in a bottomless pit, — that if the Christians should
hear of any thing likely to be of hurt to the Indians, or the
Indians hear of any thing likely to harm the Christians, they
should run, like true friends, and let the other know, — that if
any son of Onas were to do any harm to any red skin, or any
red skin were to do harm to a son of Onas, the sufferer should
not offer to right himself, but should complain to the chiefs
and to Onas, that the justice might be declared by twelve
honest men, and the wrong buried in a pit with no bottom, —
that the Lenni Lenape" should assist the white men, and the
white men should assist the Lenni Lenape", against all such as
would disturb them or do them hurt, — and lastly, that both
Christians and Indians should tell their children of this league
and chain of friendship, that it should grow stronger and
stronger, and be kept bright and clean, without rust or spot,
1 Perm. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 189.

WILLIAM PENN. 215
while the waters ran down the creeks and rivers, and while
the sun and moon and stars endured.1 He then laid the parch
ment on the ground. What King Taminent replied is not
known, except that, in substance, he was favorable to the
views of Penn. The sachems received his proposal with decent
gravity, and accepted it for themselves and for their children.
No oaths, no seal, no official mummeries were used ; the treaty
was ratified on both sides with a yea, yea — the only one, says
Voltaire, that the world has known, never sworn to and never
broken.2 This scene, celebrated in Europe by painters, poets, and
historians, ever dear to the young and hopeful, and serving
on every occasion to point a moral and adorn a tale, remained
to the two races who were witnesses and actors in it, an inheri
tance of goodwill and honorable pride for an entire century.
From year to year, says the venerable historian of the Six
Nations, Heckewelder, the sachems assembled their children in
the woods, in a shady spot as like as they could find to that
in which the great Onas had conferred with them, when they
would spread out his words or speeches on a blanket or clean
piece of bark, and repeat the whole again and again to their
great satisfaction.3 In a few years Penn, going beyond seas
and never returning, became to them a sort of mythical per
sonage ; they not only held his memory in the greatest vene
ration, but treated the whole body of white men with more
kindness for his sake. To be a follower of Onas was at all
times a passport to their protection and hospitality.4 Nor have
his own countrymen been less indebted or less grateful to the
Great Treaty. To it, and to the strictness with which its pro
visions were maintained by Penn, is owing that striking fact
recorded by Bancroft — that while every other colony in the
new world was visited in turn by the horrors of Indian war
fare, no drop of Quaker blood was ever shed by a red man in
Pennsylvania.5 It is humiliating to the pride of the white
man to think that one of his race should have been the first
to break this noble league of peace. Forty years after the
1 No full report of the proceedings at this meeting has come down, and no
copy of the treaty is extant. Governor Gordon's speech to the Indians, May
20, 1728, preserves the heads.
3 Diet. Phil. Article Quaker.
3 Quoted by Duponceau and Fisher, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii.
4 Watson's Annals. Oldmixon (British Empire), i. 171.
5 Bancroft, ii. 383.

216 WILLIAM PENN.
famous treaty, and five years after the death of Onas, one
of his unworthy children murdered the first red man who lost
his life in Pennsylvania. The deed was attended with cir
cumstances of unusual atrocity ; but it shows in a striking light
the power of a noble sentiment, that the Indians themselves
prayed that the murderer's life might be spared.1 It was
spared ; but he died in a very short time, and they then said,
the Great Spirit had avenged their brother. The venerable
elm-tree under which the meeting took place served to mark
the spot until the storm of 1810 threw it to the ground. It
measured twenty-four feet in girth, and was found to be then
two hundred and eighty-three years old. A piece of it was
sent home to the Penn family, by whom it was mounted on a
pedestal with appropriate inscriptions ; and the remainder was
manufactured into vases, work-stands, and other relics, now
held sacred by their possessors.2 A plain granite monument
has since been erected on the spot, inscribed on each face with
four short and simple sentences commemorative of the Great
Treaty.3 While the elections were taking place throughout the pro
vince for the new Assembly, the first child of English parents
was born; the family burrowed at the time in one of the
caves, and Penn marked the event by bestowing on the infant
a plot of ground. To the day of his death this man, Key,
was known as the first-born of the colony.4 When the elected
members met together, the governor found an example of the
inutility of making fixed laws and constitutions for a political
society at a distance ; for instead of the full number of mem
bers indicated in the law, each county had sent up only twelve
men to represent it, three for the council and nine for the
assembly — making in all seventy-two persons, no more than
the number originally fixed for the council. They bore with
them a written statement of the reasons which had led the
electors to disregard the letter of the writs issued in the then
state of affairs in the colony, which statement concluded with
a prayer that this act of self-judgment might not cause the
1 Gordon, 188. 2 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 97.
3 Day's Coll. 551. The State of Pennsylvania has recently voted a sum of
5000 dollars to purchase the plot of ground on which the great elm formerly
stood, — and a slip from the old tree was planted on the spot, and is now in a
flourishing state. Communication from Horatio G. Jones, Esq., Foreign Se
cretary to the Penn. Hist. Soc.
4 Hazard, ix. 112.

WILLIAM PENN. 217
proprietor to think of altering their charter. Penn was no
formalist ; and as they had come up with full parliamentary
powers, he told them they were at liberty to amend, alter or
add to the existing laws for the public good, as he was not
wedded to his own forms, but would consent to any changes
which they might wish to make, if he could do so with a strict
regard to the powers vested in him by his sovereign.1
The council and assembly were then organized, and the
latter being left to its legislative labors, appointed Thomas
Wynne as its Speaker, and proceeded to consider, amend and
pass several bills of pressing importance. Some parts of the
Frame of Government had been found to act as a restraint
on the freedom of the assembly, especially that clause which
^served to the governor and his council the sole right to pro
pose laws. From the first day of meeting, the assembly set
this restriction at nought, and in return they wished to invest
the governor with a veto on all the doings of the parliament.
This last was indeed absolutely necessary, for as the King's
sanction was required to make every act of the colonial legis
lature binding, it was obvious enough that no law would be
received in England which came unsupported by the gover
nor's concurrence.2 These and other points in which a change
seemed desirable were discussed at great length. Amend
ments were suggested and new outlines drawn up. The House
was especially anxious to obtain the privilege of conference
with the governor. At length the opinion was expressed that
it would be the wisest plan to throw themselves on the liber
ality of their chief, and pray him to allow them to construct
a new charter for themselves, on the broad principles laid
down in the Frame of Government, but in other respects to
be the growth of the New World, and to bear date from the
capital of the province.3
This request amounted in fact to a transfer of the legisla
tive power from the council to the assembly ; and Penn saw
with no little uneasiness the grasping spirit of his little demo
cratic parliament. He called his council together and laid
before them the prayer of the assembly. Had this body been
composed of its complete numbers, it would probably have
resisted the encroachment, but in its present state it feared to
' Penn to Crisp. February 28, 1684. MS. Proud, Hist, of Penns.
' Votes and Proceedings, 10. 3 Votes and Proceedings, 20.
19

218 WILLIAM PENN.
enter into a controversy with the larger house of representa
tives, and advised that an open conference should be held to
ascertain the general opinion. The assembly was then sum
moned, and the governor asked them distinctly, yea or nay,
whether they desired to have a new charter. They replied —
yea, unanimously. He then addressed them in a few words :
— He expressed his willingness to meet all their wishes, and
gave his consent to the revision of the charter ; but at the
same time he calmly told them they should consider their own
duty as well as his desire to oblige them, and he hoped it
would not be made difficult to reconcile the two in the re
arrangement of the constitution.1
A general committee being appointed to draw up a new
charter, in ten days it was prepared, and on the 30th of
March, 1683, it was read, approved, and signed by the pro
prietor — subject, of course, to the revision of the crown law
yers in England. The provincial council -was reduced to
eighteen — the assembly to thirty-six. The governor and coun
cil still retained the initiative of bills ; but the assembly ob
tained some privileges and left the way open for the acquisi
tion of more as circumstances might favor their designs. The
constitution remained essentially the same. All power was
vested in the people. They elected members of council and
members of assembly. The judges were also elected to their
seats ; and the governor had not even power to suspend them
during the term for which they were commissioned. In the
neighboring state of Maryland, Lord Baltimore at his own
will appointed all the magistrates, the officers of government,
the members of council, and indeed every other class of func
tionaries. Penn could not name a street-sweeper or a parish-
constable. "I purpose," he explained to an intimate friend,
"to leave myself and successors no power of doing mischief,
that the will of one man may not hinder the good of a whole
country."2 The assembly established courts of justice for each county
with the proper officers to each ; they voted an impost on cer
tain goods exported or imported, for the governor's support,
which he acknowledged in a most grateful manner, but de
clined; he would hear of no imposts, and the tax-gatherer
1 Penn to Crisp. February 28, 1684, MS. Council Books in Hazard's Re
gister, i. 16 et seq.
2 Penn to Turner, April 12, 1681. M'Mahon, 156.

WILLIAM PENN. 219
was for years and years an unknown institution in Pennsyl
vania.1 To prevent law-suits, three peace-makers, or arbitra
tors, weye chosen by every county-court to hear and settle
disputes between man and man according to the right. Law
was to be resorted to only as a last resource. Twice a year
an orphans' court was to meet in each county to inquire into
and regulate the affairs of all widows and orphans. Is this a
page of Harrington or More ? No : simply an extract from
the votes and proceedings of the first legislators in the land
of Penn.2
The little parliament having finished its labors and ad
journed, the governor made a journey up the river to a spot
where Markham was then engaged in building him a house,
afterwards called Pennsbury, and famous as his family resi
dence, to inspect the work ; the time, however, was near when
he had agreed to meet the Lord Baltimore at Newcastle and
renew the discussion of the boundary question. They met in
due course, but with no greater success than the year previous.
There is little doubt but that, according to the terms of their
several grants, both proprietors could legally claim the terri
tory in question ; and neither of them felt inclined to sur
render what he deemed his just right without a struggle.3 As
soon as the conference was over, Lord Baltimore, in evident
bad faith, wrote off to Secretary Blaythwaite and to the Mar
quis of Halifax, an account of the interview, giving it of course
in such a way as to serve his own interests most effectually at
the distant court.4 The Catholic nobleman had never been
without powerful friends at Whitehall, even in the darkest
days of the Popish Plot ; but the interest of the persecuted
faith was again in the ascendant, and the regard of the Duke
of York for his uncompromising fellow-papist was well known.
As soon as Penn learned that his rival had written to London
without his privity, he suspected that he had not conveyed an
impartial report of what had taken place between them, and
instantly sat down and wrote to the Board of Trade. He
expressed his surprise that the Lord Baltimore should have
proceeded to give a report of their conference without his
1 Penn to Society of Traders, August 16, 1683.
2 Votes and Proceedings. Also Letter to Society of Traders.
3 Maryland Papers, B. T. 1. B. C. P. 21. Pennsylvania Papers, B. T. 1 .
State Paper Office.
4 Maryland Papers. Baltimore's Letter, July 11, 1683. State Paper Office.

220 WILLIAM PENN.
knowledge and consent, protested against its being received
as a fair report, and proceeded to give his own version of the
meeting at full length.1 Not satisfied with this, he £ent his
cousin Markham as his agent to the court in London, pro
vided with letters to the King himself, to the Earl of Sunder
land, to Henry Sidney, and to the officers of the colonial
department ; that he might be represented on the spot by one
in whose truth, judgment, and fidelity he had a perfect confi
dence.2 In the early spring Baltimore himself, willing to
exercise the whole weight of his personal influence at court,
quitted Maryland and repaired to London ; a movement which
suggested to his adversary the necessity of being likewise on
the spot, even had causes of deeper and more painful interest
than the loss of a few hundred miles of territory not began
to crowd upon him.3 About the time that Lord Baltimore de
parted from the colony, letters from England arrived, bring
ing with them an extraordinary combination of calamities.
His wife Guli was seriously ill ; his noble friend Algernon
Sidney had just perished on the block ; Shaftesbury and Es
sex were in prison ; persecution of nonconformers had begun
to rage with unexampled fury; Oxford had put forth the
doctrine of passive obedience ; and his own enemies and en-
viers had spread malicious and unfounded reports against his
honor and reputation. He felt that it was absolutely neces
sary to be in England 4
His arrangements for departure were soon made. He sum
moned the chiefs of all the Indian tribes in the vicinity of
Pennsbury, and concluded wifh each a separate treaty of peace
and friendship for his people. He told them he was going
beyond the seas for a little while, but would return to them
again if the Great Spirit permitted him to live. He begged
of them to drink no more fire-water, and forbad his own sub
jects to sell them brandy or rum ; he put them into the ways of
honest trade and husbandry, and obtained from them a solemn
promise that they would live at peace and amity with each
other and with the Christians. The new city engaged his
daily thoughts ; and he had some comfort in seeing this har-
1 Pennsylvania Papers, August 6. State Paper Office.
2 Penn to Bridgeman, August 1. America and West Indies Papers. State
Paper Office.
3 Letter to Leoline Jenkins, April 6, 1684. Ibid.
4 Penn to Crisp. February 28, 1685, MS. Ellwood, 325.

WILLIAM PENN. 221
bor of refuge steadily rising from the ground as the dark in
telligence from Europe made it more and more needful as a
place of shelter to the children of oppression.
The brig Endeavor being now ready to leave the Delaware,
he named a mixed commission to conduct the affairs of gov
ernment in his absence, — consisting of Thomas Loyd, presi
dent; Colonel Markham, who was to return immediately,
secretary ; assisted by Thomas Holme, James Claypole, Ro
bert Turner, and two or three others. He then went on board,
whence he addressed to Thomas Loyd and the rest a parting
letter, in which he thus apostrophises the city of his heart : —
_ "And thou, Philadelphia, the virgin settlement of this pro
vince, named before thou wert born, what love, what care,
what service, and what travail has there been to bring thee
forth and preserve thee from such as would abuse and defile
thee ! My soul prays to God for thee, that thou mayest stand
in the day of trial, that thy children may be blessed of the
Lord, and thy people saved by His power."1

CHAPTER IX.
1684-1688.
DAY OF COURT INFLUENCE.
When Penn arrived in England it was some consolation in
the midst of misfortune to find his wife convalescent and the
children well.2 When Guli felt herself ill, and her husband
at such a distance, she wrote for her old friend Ellwood to come
to Worminghurst and take charge of her affairs ; but he had
recently written a book, which a zealous friend, William Ayrs,
barber and apothecary, had circulated among his customers ;
one of whom, Sir Benjamin Tichhorn, a justice of the peace,
after reading it carefully, thought it contained matter danger
ous to the public weal, and thereupon summoned him to appear
before the Bench. With the summons in his hand, Ayrs ran
off to Ellwood, who told him to be of good cheer, as he would
1 Letter to Thomas Loyd, August, 1684.
2 Penn to Margaret Fox, October 29.
19*

222 WILLIAM PENN.
come forward on the day of trial and own himself to be the
writer. Shortly after giving this assurance, the letter from
Guli arrived. Honor forbad him to fly to Worminghurst and
leave the barber to answer for his book ; yet if he stayed, his
friend's wife might die before the trial, even should he not be
then cast into prison. After a little thought, he resolved to
ride over and take council with the justice ; Thomas Fotherly,
also a magistrate, happened to be there : they spoke to him
very harshly, and were about to commit him, when it occurred
to them to ask why he had appeared before the appointed day.
Ellwood stated the reason : — "while I thus delivered myself,"
he writes in his memoirs, "I observed a sensible alteration in
the justice, and when I had done speaking, he said he was
very sorry for Madam Penn's illness (of whose virtues and
worth he spoke very highly, but not more highly than was her
due) : then he told me that for her sake he would do what he
could to further my visit. But, he added, I can assure you
the matter which will be laid to your charge is of greater
importance than you seem to think ; for your book has been
laid before the King and Council, and the Earl of Bridgewater
hath given us command to examine you about it and secure
you." On giving his word to appear at a stated time they
allowed him to depart.1 When he arrived in Sussex, Guli was
much better, and as she steadily improved, when her husband
landed on the coast, within seven miles of his own house, she
was able to meet him with outstretched arms and overflowing
heart.2 After passing a day or two in the bosom of his family,
Penn went to Newmarket to pay his court to the royal bro
thers ; there he saw the King and the Duke of York, both of
whom received him kindly, and assured him that justice should
be done in the great boundary question.3 Baltimore was on
the spot to support his claims ; but the King's health was now
failing rapidly, and the affair was suffered to languish, — both
parties probably hoping more from the justice or friendship of
his royal brother.4 Meanwhile the proprietor of Maryland,
feeling that possession was nine parts of the law, and knowing
that his neighbor could not with his notions of passive resist-
' Ellwood, 325-35. 2 Penn to Margaret Fox, October 2.
3 Apology in Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 235.
4 From June 30 to February 13, there is no trace of the dispute in State
Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 223
ance oppose force to force, ordered his relative Colonel Talbot
to seize the territory in dispute and hold it in his name against
all comers. With three musqueteers this agent invaded some
farm-houses, proclaimed Lord Baltimore proprietor, and threat
ened to expel any one who refused to admit his claim or to
pay their rents to his agents.1 He even threatened to make
a descent on Newcastle ; but the Government of Pennsylva
nia having issued a declaration of their proprietor's right over
the disputed tract, and announced its intention to prosecute
the authors of the recent outrage in the English courts of law,
Talbot and his master thought better of their proceedings and
remained quiet. The feint of war, however, probably an
swered its chief purpose, that of raising suspicions in England
as to Penn's pacific ideas. Absurd as it may appear, the mo
ment this disturbance was heard of, it was rumored that the
preacher of peace had excited a civil war in the colonies, had
mounted guns and fortified his towns, had issued commissions
and raised an army. Some of his own sect even lent an ear
to these reports.2 The governor was fortunately on the spot
to contradict them : he explained that when he went to Ame
rica a few old guns were lying on the green by the Session-
house at Newcastle, some on the ground, others on broken
carriages, but that there had been no ball, powder, or soldier
there from the day he landed ; and he could no more be
charged with warlike propensities on their account, than a
man could who happened to buy a house with an old musket
in it.3
On the 6th of February King Charles the Second breathed
his last ; his brother promising to maintain the Church and
State as then existing, to respect the property of his subjects,
and to exercise the clemency which became a prince, succeeded
quietly to the throne.4 The late reign had been in most re
spects disastrous for England : unblushing vice had reared its
head in the highest places, and the first rank of the peerage
had been filled with wantons ; the honor of the country had
been sold by its sworn defender to the enemy of its freedom
and its faith ; persecution had ravened through the land, de
stroying or driving away the most conscientious, orderly, and
' Penn to Duke of York, June 8, 1684.
2 Penn to Crisp, February 28, 1685, MS. 3 Ibid.
4 Penn to Thomas Loyd, February, 1685.

224 WILLIAM PENN.
industrious ofthe population.1 Penn counted up the number
of families ruined for opinion-sake in the reign to more than
fifteen thousand. Of those who were arrested and cast into
noisome gaols, to rot with the felon and the murderer, not
less than four thousand had actually died in prison !2 By
whatever motive actuated, James, as Duke of York, had often
lifted up his voice against these atrocities ;3 and as soon as he
came to the throne, a statement of the wrongs, in mind, body,
and estate, endured by his unoffending subjects, was placed in
his hands.4 Penn waited on him at Whitehall to remind him
of the goodwill he had formerly professed towards all con
scientious persons, and to beg his gracious interference in
behalf of the many hundred religious men and women then in
custody for no civil offence. The King was extremely affable.
He spoke to him for some time in the midst of his nobles,
with the old frankness and cordiality of the guardian to his
ward ; and when he ventured to refer to the penal laws then
in operation, and to express a hope that the poor Quakers
languishing in Marshalsea, Newgate, the Gatehouse, and
other prisons, would find some relief from their sufferings,
James took him into his private closet, where they remained
in conversation some time.5 Penn has preserved the substance
of what passed. His Majesty said he should deal openly with
his subjects. He was himself a Catholic, and he desired no
peaceable person to be disturbed on account of his opinions ;
but he would defer making any distinct promise until the day
fixed for his coronation, and even then he said he could only
exercise his prerogative to pardon such as were already suf
fering unjustly ; with the new parliament would rest the power
legally to establish liberty of conscience.6 In a short time
James went beyond these promises. He charged the judges
to discourage persecutions on the score of religious differences ;
1 The Book of Secret Service Money — about to be published by the Cam-
dem Society — contains some items which serve admirably to illustrate the
reigns of the Stuarts. I extract two payments for the sake of the contrast:
— " March 28th, Paid to Duchess of Portsmouth (in various sums), 13,341J.
10s. 4§d." — "June 14th, Paid to Richard Yates, son of Francis Yates, who
conducted Prince Charles from the field of Worcester to Whyte Ladies, after
the battle, and suffered death under the usurper Cromwell, bounty, 101.
10s. Orf."
2 Collected Works, ii. 772.
3 Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii.
4 Harl. MSSi 7506. 6 Penn to Crisp, February 28, MS.
6 Penn to Thomas Loyd, Feb., 1685.

WILLIAM PENN. 225
he opened the prison gates to every person who was confined
for refusing to take oaths of allegiance and supremacy.
Twelve hundred Quakers obtained their freedom by this act
of justice.1 Opinions varied at that time — and vary still —
as to the King's motives in issuing these orders. Honest and
simple men saw in them only the act of a prince who had
himself tasted the bitterness of persecution, and was anxious
that it should ceage in his dominions. Penn at least firmly
believed that the liberty of worship granted to all sects by
James was neither a delusion nor a snare.2
As friend, patron, and guardian, the new King of England
seemed well disposed to the Governor of Pennsylvania. A
party arose at this time which advocated the recall of the
colonial charters, and the annexation of all the American pro
vinces to the crown ; and every fault of government, every
petty grievance of the governed, was caught at and magni
fied to make out a plausible case for proceeding to so extreme
a measure. An outrage committed by Lord Baltimore's
agents in Maryland, while it tended to strengthen Penn's
cause as against his more immediate adversary, very sensibly
damaged the general interests of the proprietors in America.3
Like many of the disagreements which arose in that age be
tween the colonies and the crown, this was a revenue case.
The King's officers behaving in an extremely arbitrary and
dictatorial manner, the colonists, with that instinctive dis
like to the tax collector which belongs to the character of an
Englishman, hated the official, evaded his vigilance, and en
couraged the contraband traders, who appealed from the laws
of the land to the laws of nature. Virginia, Maryland, Penn
sylvania, New York, and other provinces, were accused, and
not unjustly, of favoring smugglers to the manifest injury of
the royal revenue.4 On the whole, the proprietors had the
precaution to maintain at least an appearance of hostility to
these illegal proceedings ; but the servants of Lord Baltimore
acted with less caution; and had their master not been a
Catholic peer, and the moment one in which the Catholic
sovereign needed the support of every man of his own faith,
the charter would probably have been recalled in consequence.
1 Sewell, ii. 322. 2 See his Letter to Quakers in Phil. Friend, vi. 257.
3 Penn to Crisp, February 28, MS.
4 Plant. Gen. Papers, B. T. 32, &c, State Paper Office. The correspond
ence and orders in council on this subject would fill several volumes.

226 WILLIAM PENN.
The president of his council, having a quarrel with the King's
collector-general, went on board the man-of-war in which he
was passing down one of the rivers of Maryland, and under
the feint of a reconciliation gained an opportunity to murder
him. An alarm was instantly given, and the captain of the
vessel seizing the wretched criminal, almost in the act, loaded
him with irons, and prepared to carry him to England for
trial. On hearing of these events the Maryland council
assembled, and deputed two of their body to go on board and
demand the person of their president. The captain asked
them in whose name they required him to be delivered over ;
they replied, in that of the Lord Baltimore. But he refused to
surrender the murderer to any but the King's justices ; and
as they persisted in saying that their proprietor was their
king, he sent them on shore and sailed away.1
How far, in the existing state of parties, this incident
affected the interests of the owner of Maryland it is not easy
to determine. It is certain that James, who gave his earliest
attention to an arrangement of the dispute, was strongly in
clined to support the pretensions of his rival. He directed
the Board of Trade to collect all the papers and facts having
reference to the controversy, especially the authorized and
sworn versions of what had taken place between Markham
and Baltimore and Penn and Baltimore in their private con
ferences ;2 and this being done, Penn went through the form of
praying that his majesty would command the Board of Trade
to decide the question without further delay.3 It is not
necessary to enter into the details of this settlement. Igno
rance of the geography of America had led the original
granters of the charters to include the peninsula — or at least
a considerable portion of it — in both patents. But as Balti
more's right had priority of date, and had never been can
celled, his supporters argued, with fair show of reason, that
the latter grant was invalid, the King not being able to give
away lands which were not his own in any subsequent grant.4
On the other hand, the Maryland charter expressly stating
that only the lands which were hactenus inculta were assigned
to Lord Baltimore, it was urged with equal cogency that the
tract on the Delaware, then settled and cultivated by the
1 Penn to Crisp, February 28, MS.
2 Maryland Papers, March 17, State Paper Office. " Ibid. Aug. 18.
4 Dunlop in Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 161 et seq.

WILLIAM PENN. 227
Dutch and Swedes, could not "have been included in the patent.
While the Duke' of York remained master of these territories,
the Maryland proprietor had been silent about his claims, and
it was only when he found the new governor about to plant a
democracy in his immediate neighborhood, that he became
anxious about the unproductive strip of ground lying between
the Chesapeake and the Delaware. When Penn had presented
his formal petition, a council was called to take the subject
into final consideration. The King himself was present at the
board ; Prince George of Denmark was on -his right ; the
Archbishop of Canterbury and all the ministers of the crown
sat round the table. The claims were gone into with great
minuteness ;- and James settled the question — at least for a
time — by dividing the territory in dispute into two equal
parts, the eastern half of which he transferred to Lord Balti
more, as his by right, and the western half he restored to
the crown, so as to place it beyond the reach of future litiga
tion.2 There can be no doubt but that the King's intentions
were friendly and honorable towards his ward ; but for some
reason or other the reconveyance of the lapsed provinces on
the Delaware was delayed. Practically Penn retained the
country, but his legal titles were not made out in form, — a
source of considerable embarrassment to him in the sequel, as
he was never able to prevail on Sunderland to allow the affair
to be settled.3
From this date until the retirement of King James, Penn
was at court almost daily. That the King, to whom he was
bound by every tie of gratitude, was inclined in his heart to
pursue a wise, tolerant and legal course with regard to re
ligion and religious liberty he was convinced ; that he had
himself some influence over the royal mind he soon became
aware from the great favor shown to him in public and the
many audiences permitted him in private. But the laws
against opinion passed in the previous reign, under which
he had himself suffered several terms of imprisonment, still
existed; hundreds of poor Quakers were still confined for
tithes or gaoler's fees which their consciences would not suffer
them to pay ;4 and the Church party, instead of showing a
1 Hazard's Register, ii.-225.
2 Order in Council, Nov. 13. Maryland Papers. State Paper Office.
3 Proprietary Papers, June 18, 1703. State Paper Office.
4 Life of Gilbert Latye, 57.

228 WILLIAM PENN.
friendly or tolerant disposition towards Dissenters, proposed
that the House of Commons should petition the King to put
all the penal laws against them into severe and immediate
execution.1 At such a time he felt that Providence had placed
him near the throne for a great end ; that upon him had fallen,
in that violent time, a work of daily mercy and mediation.
He accepted his position with a full sense of its perils and
responsibilities ; but he trusted to the sanctity of his assumed
office, "the general mediator for charity," for a liberal con
struction of his conduct by every honest mind.2 To him and
to his people the ordinary laws of the country afforded no
protection ; a fine or a fee was a sentence of perpetual im
prisonment to a man who in his conscience could not pay fines
or fees. A humane judge might order a poor wretch to be
set at liberty, but then the gaoler stepped forward with his
list of charges, and unless the judge were willing to pay them
out of his own purse, the poor wretch was sent back again to
prison.3 Conscience was at war with this intolerant law, and
the only hope of obtaining justice, not to speak of mercy, for
the sufferers, lay in the unremitted exercise of the royal right
to pardon and relieve. To secure the constant exercise of this
power, and to urge the King to establish, not by proclama
tions or orders in council, but by a general act of Parliament,
a perfect freedom of opinion in every part of his dominions —
these were the objects which kept Penn away from the city of
his affections and carried him every morning to the ante
chambers at Whitehall.4
He removed his residence to Holland House at Kensington,
and brought Guli and his family to town.5 The house was
large, and he had many visitors. His influence with the
King was well known, and every man with a real grievance
found in him a counsellor and a friend. Envoys were sent
from the American colonies to solicit his influence in their
behalf; members of his own and other religious bodies who
had petitions to present crowded to his levees ; and sometimes
not less than two hundred persons were in attendance at his
hour of rising.6
' Com. Jour., May 26, 27.
2 Letter to Quakers in Phil. Friend, vi. 257.
3 Fox's Journal, 217, 258.
4 Letter to Quakers, Phil. Friend, vi. 257.
6 Lawton MS. Memoirs of Penn, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Partii. 216.
6 Gerard Croese, Hist. Quakers. Lambeth MSS., Bancroft, ii. 395.

WILLIAM PENN. 229
One of the earliest favors which Penn is known to have
begged from the King will be remembered to his honor as
long as a taste for letters or a love of science endures. In
the preceding reign, when the Earl of Shaftesbury fled away
to the continent, John Locke, as one of his intimate friends,
fell under Court suspicions; but so serene and blameless was
the life he led at Oxford, that it was feared that to arrest
and try him would only end in an acquittal and a triumph for
the enemies of the royal family. King Charles therefore em
ployed his creatures at Christ Church to entrap him into
some unwary expression — some word of sympathy for the al
leged conspirators — any, even the le'ast, remark which malice
might construe into an offence.1 But he was on his guard,
and gave them no assistance in their design. At length,
treachery failing, force was used. On the 11th, of November,
the Earl of Sunderland conveyed to the authorities of the
college his majesty's commands, to strip the unmoved phi
losopher of his honors and dignities, and expel him from the
University.2 These authorities showed no want of alacrity in
putting their own recently promulgated doctrine of absolute
obedience into practice;3 and a week later the secretary
thanked the college, in his majesty's name, for their ready
compliance with his orders." Locke, then on the continent,
was ignominiously cast out of the University of which he was
the chiefest ornament, and went to reside at the Hague,
where he busied himself in finishing his great work on the
Human Understanding, and in furnishing the friends of
liberty with new arguments in favor of toleration.5 Touched
with a situation in some respects so like his own in earlier
life, Penn put his influence to the test by asking a pardon
and permission for his old acquaintance to return to England.
That James had been a consenting party to his banishment,
there can be no doubt ; possibly he had been an active
enemy ; it was therefore regarded as a signal instance of his
favor that he promised all the intercessor asked for, without
1 Bishop of Oxford to Sunderland, Nov. 8. State Paper Office.
2 Sunderland Letter-Book, November 11. State Paper Office.
3 State Tracts, ii. 153, and Somers Tracts, viii. 420-424. Passive obe
dience was declared to be a "most necessary doctrine of the Chinch" en
the 21st of July ; the very day on which Lord William Russell died for the
right of resisting tyranny.
4 Sunderland Letter-Book, November 20. State Paper Office.
5 Furly Cjrresp. 1-75. King's Life of Locke, passim.
20

230 WILLIAM PENN.
a scruple, and without conditions. Penn at once wrote off
with these glad tidings to the Hague ; but the exile, conscious
of having committed no crime, while expressing his deep
sense of obligation to the mediator, absolutely refused to ac
cept the proffered pardon.1 And in this view of his duty to
himself he continued steadfast ; when the Earl of Pembroke,
an intimate friend of many years standing, offered his ser
vices to obtain a similar concession from the King, he returned
the same answer.2 That he thankfully remembered the unso
licited kindness of his "friend Penn,"3 will be seen in the
good offices he is able to render in return after the Revolution
changed in a measure their relative positions. His friend
Popple, afterwards secretary to the Lords Commissioners of
Trade and Plantations, was less scrupulous in using the Go
vernor's influence at court. Popple was involved in some
troublesome affairs in France, and applied to the general me
diator to aid him in recovering his position : he, being con
vinced of his honor and innocence, went to the Ambassador,
Barillon, and procured such a representation of the affair at
the Court of Versailles as soon put an end to his troubles.
The future secretary retained a warm sense of gratitude to
his benefactor, and events afterwards placed it in his power,
as a government official, in some measure to return these
favors.4 Nor did Locke himself scruple to ask that for others
which his philosophic pride rejected for himself. Ever ready
to exercise his interest in behalf of the unfortunate, he found
his friend in London equally willing to be made the instru
ment of his charitable interference.6 Popple and Locke were
political as well as personal friends. The accidents of the
time had driven the Whigs from Court ; some into the retire
ment of the country, others into positive exile. Penn sympa
thized deeply with their political ideas ; and their misfortunes
gave them a claim on his regard, which he never trifled with
so long as his day of influence lasted. Some of the men whom
he saved in their hour of need, repaid him in after -times with
the foulest ingratitude, but there were noble exceptions.6
' Lord King's Life of Locke, i. 291, 292.
2 Ibid. 3 Furly Corresp. 36.
4 Lawton's Mem. Popple to Penn, October 20, 1688. Plant. Gen. Pa
pers, iv. State Paper Office.
5 Furly Corresp. 36.
6 Lawton's Mem. (Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 227.)

WILLIAM PENN. 231
The first six months of James the Second's reign brought
back the troubles of the old civil wars. Though he mounted
the throne of his ancestors with as little opposition as any
monarch had ever done in England, the elements of confusion
existed around him in no ordinary force and variety. The
old cavaliers, who had fought for his family in many a well-
contested field, were either lukewarm or indifferent in his
cause on account of his religion. A remnant of the Republi
can party, not great in point of numbers, but still formidable
from its energy and character, remained in Holland, watching
events, and only too willing to revive the good old times
of Naseby and Marston Moor. Nor were powerful leaders
wanting to these men, and both Monmouth and Argyle were
known to be secretly or openly preparing to invade the king
dom and renew in arms the contest which was thought to have
been ended with the execution of Algernon Sidney.1 The
severities which the King felt bound to inflict on those who
had wronged the Duke of York, also added to the suspicions
and discontents which were abroad. When the informer,
Titus Oates, was placed in the pillory the first time after his
trial, the people were excited to a serious breach of the
peace ;2 and the zeal of fanatic churchmen was inflamed into
frenzy on beholding the King go to mass in public with the
Queen and the royal household. Sermons and speeches
against popery were delivered in all churches, chapels, coffee
houses, and places of general resort : even in the royai chapel
at Whitehall the rites and ceremonies practised by the sove
reign were denounced as contrary to the word of God and to
the laws of England.3 But in the midst of these sources of
alarm, James held on his resolute course.4 He clung to his
own notions of religion with a tenacity worthy of an English
man ; and refused to purchase the support of his ancient
friends, the cavaliers, by any sacrifice of his bigotry to their
intolerance, even when Argyle had landed in Scotland, and the
signal of revolt was daily expected in the west of England.
A committee of the House of Commons, under the influence
of the Church party, proposed to petition the King for the
instant execution of all the penal statutes against Dissent.
1 Penn to Crisp, February 28. MSS. Memoirs of James, ii. 3 et seq.
2 Sunderland Letter-Book, May 19, 20. State Faper Office. Barillon to
Louis, May 21.
3 Penn to Crisp, February 28. MS. 4 Barillon to Louis, May 14.

232 WILLIAM PENN.
Though some of the King's personal friends were present
when this proposal was made, they offered no opposition, and
it was unanimously resolved to bring forward a motion in the
house to that effect on the following day. James, informed
of what had taken place, and of what was intended for the
morrow, sent for his friends and laid before them so clearly
and emphatically his fixed determination to resist the peti
tion, and to err, if at all, on the side of mercy, that they went
away convinced of his sincerity, and took their measures
with such success that the result was more satisfactory to the
supporters of toleration than they had dared to hope : — the
motion was condemned as an insult to the sovereign, and re
jected without a division.1 Penn began to feel some hope
that Parliament would soon find itself in a temper to discuss
a general act for the enfranchisement of conscience ; and the
King of France urged James to press ths measure at once.2
Literature also came to the aid of freedom, — and from an
unexpected quarter. Penn's acquaintance with the brilliant
Duke of Buckingham has been referred to more than once;
and, as the public professed to believe, it was at his instiga
tion, or through his influence, that his grace now brought out
his Essay on Religion.3 In this work he argues for universal
charity towards opinion. He says he had long been con
vinced that nothing can be more anti-christian, nor more con
trary to sense and reason, than to trouble and molest our
fellow Christians because they cannot be exactly of our minds
in all that relates to the worship of God.4 The effusion
breathes this spirit throughout ; and it was not a little to the
author's credit that during a life of more than ordinary fickle
ness of purpose and change of fortune he had never wavered
from this opinion. He concludes his discourse with the para
phrase of a thought often expressed by Penn, to the effect
that if Parliament refused to adopt a more liberal policy to
wards opinion, the result would be " a general discontent, the
dispeopling of our poor country, and the exposing us to the
conquest of a foreign nation."5 A pamphlet on such a sub-
1 Com. Jour. May 26, 27. Barillon to Louis, June 7.
2 Louis to Barillon, June 16.
3 "A short Discourse on the Reasonableness of having a Religion or
Worship of God." The authenticity of this work has been doubted (Pen.
Cyc. Art. Buck.), but without reason. The title-page bears his name, and
he never denied its authorship. Barillon to Louis, May 21.
4 Short Discourse, &c, Preface. 6 Ibid. 8.

WILLIAM PENN. 233
ject by the author of the " Rehearsal" naturally excited
much attention, and numerous answers to it appeared.1 The
wit of the court was answered by wits of the coffee-houses.
One of these is very smart in its personal raillery.2 The
writer pleasantly alludes to the great rake taking up with
Whiggism in her old age, when she is a poor cast-off mistress,
that even the porters and footmen turn away from with scorn ;
and wonders how his grace can think of making himself tbe
champion of anything so out of all countenance as religion
and toleration. The graver argument adduced by these
writers against any concession to the sectaries, was the al
leged peril of the nation. Liberty, they said, was fraught
with danger. There had been liberties in the time of Charles
the First — and Charles the First lost his head : there was
toleration under the Commonwealth, — and the Common
wealth fell. No weapon in the armory of logic like a syllo
gism !
This sort of reasoning of course provoked numerous rejoin
ders. Penn entered the arena and wrote in defence of the
Duke's proposal.3 The advocates of toleration had the last
word; and ultimately the wit as well as the argument was on
their side. One of their retorts begins thus : — " I remember
a time when the Lord Chancellor Hyde was at his height at
court, a poor woman who got her living by a piece of ground
which her husband used to dig, carrying her garden-stuff to mar
ket, and not selling it, comes home exclaiming that she could
not sell her beans and cabbages, and never should have a good
market any more so long as that filthy Hyde was Chancellor.
There are some in the nation that have been, and that are, for
liberty of conscience ; some that have been, and that are, of
the wisest of the nation — such as my Lord Bacon and my
Lord Chief Justice Hales — who have shown their minds still
against the stiffness of these Churchmen, who never would be
got, when time was, to condescend in lesser things for the
sake of greater : — and here comes this gentleman now and
argues that all the plots, all the rebellions, and all the evils
that have befallen the kingdom, must be imputed to such men
and to such principles. This argument is the reasoning of the
market-woman — Socrate ambulante fulguravit : Socrates going
1 Several of these replies are collected into a volume, B. M.
2 A Short Answer to the Duke of Buckingham's Paper.
3 Collected Works, ii. 708. 20*

234 WILLIAM PENN.
abroad, it lightened. This lightning did a great deal of dam
age : — therefore Socrates must be sent to Newgate ! There
fore liberty of conscience must be put down ! I deny the
argument."1 When Penn came forward to defend in print the Duke's
proposition, he thought it requisite to state exactly the part
which he felt it became him to take in the controversy. One
of the disputants had charged the versatile nobleman with
having been deluded by Penn into these new notions ; and
thus dragged into the arena, friendship to the writer, as well
as duty to maintain the right, urged him to add his testimony
to the principle of enlightened policy advocated by the pam
phleteer. A vein of quiet satire runs through his discourse.
He expresses his great pleasure in seeing a work in defence
of religion from such a pen, and sincerely hopes that the witty
and clever Duke may soon begin to enjoy those felicities of a
good life which he has proved himself so well able to describe;
When that day arrives, he says in conclusion, he will be happy
to press the gentlemen of England to imitate so illustrious an
example.2 At first, the King affected to take no notice of this
literary combat ; but when he found the Church party in evi
dent alarm, and heard from those about him that nothing else
was talked of in the coffee-houses, he began to take some in
terest in it. The astute agent of the French monarch saw its
importance from the first ; and as soon as Buckingham's pam
phlet appeared, he had caused it to be translated, and sent
over to his master as a key to the new and serious question
which was about to be agitated in England.3
Meanwhile the expeditions under Monmouth and Argyle
had both failed. These events and the melancholy trials and
executions to which they led belong to the domain of general
history.4 Penn's connection with them was but slight and
incidental ; but so far as is known his influence was exerted
entirely in behalf of mercy and of a merciful construction of
the law.5 Nor, in our virtuous indignation, should injustice
be done even to the most hateful of characters. Jeffreys has
been called a judge after James's own heart ; in common fair-
1 Defence of the Duke of Buckingham's Paper, p. 3.
2 Penn's Collected Works, ii. 709. 3 Barillon to Louis, May 21.
4 Lingard, xiv; 1-78, contains the most calm and careful narrative of these
events. 5 See Extra Chapter, The Macaulay Chaboes, at the end of this volume.

WILLIAM PENN. 235
ness it should be remembered that Jeffreys was not a man of
James's seeking. He was already on the bench when the
Catholic prince came to the throne : — he had been raised to
the judgment-seat, almost against the wishes of King Charles,
by Lord Sunderland, to try his noble uncle Algernon Sidney.1
Considering the King's power, the crimes of which the pri
soners had been guilty, and the general disregard of legal
forms at that time prevailing, the calm reader of history is
surprised at the perfect order and regular course of law under
which the rebels received their sentences. The heat of battle
over, James forgot that he was a Stuart, and invoked the
ordinary laws of his country. When his generals desired to
know what they must do with their prisoners, he wrote to say
they must be reserved for regular trial. In no case would he
allow the soldier to play the judge. Colonel Kirk sold a few
pardons on his own account, and ordered his troops free quar
ters in the rebel towns ; but James gave him a sharp repri
mand, and threatened punishment if these offences were con
tinued.2 No man, by his warrant, suffered arbitrarily. If many
were executed, and many more were transported to the Ameri
can colonies, it was because they had been convicted, justly
or unjustly, of the highest crime known in the statute-book of
England. The royal nature was not humane, — but that so
much blood was shed was in a great measure due to the cruel
temper of Jeffreys. The King was urged by his creatures to
profit by the blunder which his enemies had made, and allow
the law to remove from his path men who might otherwise be
troublesome,3 — and he was weak and wicked enough to follow
their counsel. In these evil moments it was well that he had
one honest man occasionally near his person, from whose mouth
came words of gentleness and mercy. Between Penn and
Jeffreys nature and events had interposed an antipathy which
no royal offices could mitigate, much less remove. The Chief
Justice was weak, cruel, profligate, avaricious, and he had \
been the legal doomsman of Algernon Sidney. He was a man
thoroughly detestable ; and Penn opposed him to the utmost \
of his power, and in the day of his bloody triumph loudly ac- '
cused him of being the cause of a great and needless waste of
human life.4
1 Clarendon Corresp. i. 82.
2 Sunderland Letter-Book, 268 et seq. State Paper Office. 3 Burnet, iii. 66.
4 Ibid. How far James approved of his servant's conduct is disputed. Lin-
gard has collected the conflicting authorities, xiv. 77, 78.

236 WILLIAM PENN.
Beyond this loud and vehement protest, Penn had no power
to go. He was himself an object of suspicion to the court and
ministry. Not half a dozen years before the invasion of Mon
mouth, he had been intimately associated with the men who
were now in prison : even by the reports of Barillon he was
then considered as dividing with Algernon Sidney the leader
ship of all the turbulent reformers in England and the Low
Countries.1 Though it is not to be imagined that he gave the
invaders any reason to believe he approved of their projects —
it is clear enough that they regarded him as a friend to their
cause, for in their plan of the campaign they had set him down
as one of the half dozen persons who might be relied on to bring
over the American colonies to accept the Protestant revolu
tion.2 The ministry were conscious that his political sympa
thies were not with them, and they professed to regard him as
a partisan of the Prince of Orange.3. Indeed his position was
extremely peculiar. Against these suspicions and misgivings
he had no protection beyond the private favor of the King : a
favor which had its origin in the Duke of York's affection for
the old admiral, and in that constancy to his plighted word
which made the better side of his obstinate character, rather
than in any community of sentiment or personal attachment.
So far as was possible with a man who disapproved of the
King's policy, and publicly and privately opposed the King's
ministers — Penn strove to mitigate the sufferings of the de
luded men who had been drawn into rebellion. Events had
given him the proprietorship of a land which he had opened
as a general asylum for the oppressed ; and now when the
prisoners were sentenced to transportation beyond sea for ten
years, he applied to have a few of them sent to Pennsylvania,
where the climate would agree with them, and their offences
would not be regarded as very heinous.4 But this humane
design was not agreeable to the King's advisers. With a per
versity of folly which nothing can justify, the rebels had set a
price on the King's head, and had denounced the Parliament
as a treasonable assembly, to be pursued with war and destruc
tion.5 This madness begot its like in the Court and Parliament.
Now that the rebels had fallen into their power, they shut their
1 Barillon to Louis. Dalrymple, i. 282.
2 Wade's statement. Harl. MSS. 6845, p. 288.
3 Penn to Shrewsbury, March 7, 1689.
4 Penn to Thomas Loyd, October 2, 1685. MS. 6Harl. MSS. 7006.

WILLIAM PENN. 237
ears to the pleadings of humanity. They wished, if it were
possible, to make the punishment of the transports more terri
ble than the bitterness of death. They gave them up there
fore to the high Tory and Catholic owners of the tropical and
unhealthy islands of the West Indies. Sir Philip Howard
received two hundred ; Sir Richard White two hundred ; two
other knights received a hundred each ; the Queen begged
another hundred for some friend or favorite of her own whose
name is not preserved.1 None of them were allowed to go to
Pennsylvania, or to any other settlement where they were
likely to be treated with humanity.2
When the trials in the country were over and those in Lon
don began, Penn was still more anxiously and incessantly
employed in the work of mediation. One of the first victims
of royal rigor was an old acquaintance of his own. Five
years before this time, when the court was moving heaven and
earth to defeat the candidates of the Sidney party in all elec
tions, two liberals, Henry Cornish and Slingsby Bethel, had
the courage to stand for the office of sheriffs for the city of
London ; and in spite of bribery and threats, to the infinite
chagrin of the royal brothers, they succeeded in carrying the
election.3 Their success made quite a sensation in the politi
cal world ; even moderate men like William Lord Russel were
taken by surprise. The mob gave vent to their triumph by
party cries ; and James took this defeat to heart as if it had
been a personal insult.4 From that day Cornish was a marked
man ; and when the Rye-House plot exploded, he was believed
to be involved in it past recovery. The evidence, however,
was not complete, and he had now been two years at large
after the execution of Sidney, and was congratulating himself
on his escape from peril, when the court suddenly obtained
the evidence required to make out their case. He was arrested,
tried, found guilty, and gibbeted in front of his own house in
Cheapside.5 That Cornish was accused and sentenced as the
accomplice of Sidney and Russell was not without its weight
with Penn ;6 but the mediator took a higher view, he declared
his belief that the condemned was innocent of the crimes im
puted to him, and begged the King to pause ere the fatal war-
1 Sunderland to Jeffreys, September 14. State Paper Office.
2 See Extra Chai>tek, 3 Dorothy Sunderland to Lord Halifax, July 19.
4 Ibid. Burnet, ii. 248. , 6 State Trials, vol. xi.
6 Penn to Harrison, Oct. 25, 1685. MS.

238 WILLIAM PENN.
rants of execution were given out. But his arguments failed
to touch the cold heart of his sovereign.1 Another case
pending at the same moment, interested his feelings not less
strongly. Elizabeth Gaunt, a lady of religious temperament
and of the most spotless life, whose time and fortune had been
spent in visiting prisons and relieving the wretched — had in a
moment of compassion given the shelter of her house to one of
the fugitive rebels ; but as the government declared its deter
mination to punish those who harbored traitors with as much
severity as the traitors themselves, the vile scoundrel informed
against his humane protectress, and she was therefore arrested,
found guilty, and condemned to be burnt alive at Tyburn.
For her Penn also interceded — but in vain.2
Both these victims suffered on the same day. Penn stood
near Cornish to the last, — and vindicated his memory after
death.3 The creatures of the court, annoyed at the indignant
bearing of the city merchant on the scaffold, gave out that he
was drunk. Penn repelled the accusation with scorn : he said
he could see nothing in his conduct but the natural indigna
tion of an Englishman about to be murdered by form of law.4
From this melancholy scene he went to Tyburn. The poor
lady met her fate with calmness and resignation. She had
-obeyed the merciful promptings of her heart in sheltering a
fellow-creature from the blood-hounds of the law ; and when
grave judges pronounced this a crime worthy of fire and fa
got, she submitted to the King's pleasure in silence. As she
arranged the straw about her feet, that the flame might do its
work more quickly, the whole concourse of spectators burst
into tears. To the last she asserted her innocence, her loy
alty, her respect for the laws. But she did not repent of what
she had done. The cause in which she suffered was, she said,
the cause of humanity — the cause of God.5 As the fagots
were kindling, a storm arose such as had not been witnessed
since the eventful night of Cromwell's death ; — and' in the
midst of this war of the elements, and the still more fearful
strife of human passions, expired the unfortunate woman, who
1 " There is daily inquisition for those concerned in the late plots. Some
die denying — as Alderman Cornish — others confessing, but justifying, some
repenting. Cornish died last sixth day (Saturday) in Cheapside for being at
the meeting that Lord Russel died for, but denied it most vehemently to the
last." Ibid.; also Burnet, iii. 66, 67.
2 State Trials, vol. xi. , 3 Penn to Harrison, Oct. 25, MS.
4 Burnet, iii. 66. 6 Penn to Harrison, Oct. 25, MS.

WILLIAM PENN. 239
in happier times might have left behind her the reputation of
an Elizabeth Fry.1
Penn was able, when he afterwards pleaded with his sove
reign for mercy, to quote these instances of persons who had
gone down to the grave protesting their innocence ; it was for
this purpose that he attended the executions, even by the re
port of his enemy, Dr. Burnet. His representations had their
effect in Softening what James thought the inflexible justice
of his own nature. Some slight reparation was made to Cor
nish ; his mutilated and scattered limbs were gathered and
restored to his relatives ; and the infamous scoundrel who had
sworn away his life was condemned to perpetual imprison
ment.2 But the mediator bought these charities at a consider
able risk. The minister disliked his humane interference with
public business ; and to punish his presumption Jhey contrived
not only to postpone the form of his legal investiture with the
Delaware province, though, as he enjoyed it in fact, there
could be no reason for withholding it, but under pretence of
a general measure of reform for the colonies, gave orders to
the crown lawyers to issue a quo warranto against his pro
vince of Pennsylvania, and proceed with such vigor as to com
pel him to vacate his charter.3 This mischief, however, was
soon arrested. James was then staying at Windsor Castle ;
but in less than a week, by his special command, Lord Sun
derland wrote to the Attorney-General to suspend the proceed
ing until further orders.4 Those orders were never issued.
The King evidently listened to his counsels with interest, even
where his own temper forbade him to follow them, — for his
manner was soft and winning, and he had not only clearer
ideas but far more wit and scholarship than the majority of
those who thronged the galleries of Whitehall.5 His opportu
nities were nobly employed. If any fault can be found with
his conduct, it is that his charity was a little too universal — a
little too indiscriminate. The case of Aaron Smith, — a man
to whom he had never spoken in his life, — is an instance in
point. A Whig of some standing applied to Penn, rather, as
he himself confesses, with a view to ascertain his ideas of po
litical mercy than with any hope of obtaining what he asked,''
'Burnet, iii. 62. 2Luttrel's Diary, April 19, 1686.
3 Privy Council Register J., i. 228. Privy Council Office.
4 Sunderland Letter-Book, June 6, 1686. State Paper Office.
6 Gerard Croese, Hist. Quakers. Burnet, iii. 140.

240 WILLIAM PENN.
to solicit from the King a pardon. Smith's only claim was
that he was unknown to his mediator and in misfortune. Had
Penn known him better he might possibly have paused ; but
he heard only of his calamities, and promised to intercede. A
few days afterwards, when alone with James, he made this
request. The King started at the name, — flew into a violent
passion, — replied in his angriest tone that he would do no such
thing, — that six fellows like Smith would put the three King
doms in a flame, — and threatened in his wrath to turn the im
prudent petitioner out of the royal closet.1 Still he did not
desist. He got with some trouble — for Smith was as obstinate
as he was quarrelsome — a civil letter from the delinquent ;
and taking an opportunity, when James was in a good humor,
and the scene in the closet had faded from his recollection, he
again pressed the suit of mercy and obtained a pardon.2 On
the other hand, it is not to be supposed that the old gratitude
of the ward to his guardian was the only sentiment that at
tached the governor of Pennsylvania to his sovereign. They
had, apparently at least, one great political object in common :
— they both sought to establish Liberty of Conscience for all
Englishmen ! Penn believed the King sincere when he de
clared himself opposed to every kind of religious tests and to
every species of penal laws ;3 and, though it became the fash
ion after the Revolution to consider this apparent liberality
in matters of conscience to be a mere Jesuitical feint to engage
the unwary to support his policy in favor of the Catholics,
abundant evidence remains to show that this was not the case.
That his protection was often extended to other nonconform
ists, as well as to his own body, is beyond question. The
council books teem with examples : but one or two will suffice.
One Francis Godfrey, master of a workhouse in Cambridge,
being expelled his office on account of his dissent, James wrote
to inquire if he were guilty of any other offence, and com
manded, if he were not, that he should be reinstated.4 He
pardoned Friends almost as fast as they got into trouble.5 He
restrained the zeal of his own followers, when their zeal took
a shape offensive to the nation : the high-sheriff of Hertford
shire pressed to have permission to celebrate high mass in the
' Lawton's Mem. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 219-21.
2 Ibid. 222. 3 Ibid. 223.
4 Letter-Book, February 4, 1687. State Paper Office.
6 Penn to Turner, April 4.

WILLIAM PENN. 241
townhall of Hertford, but the King objected ; and it was not
until he had been again strongly urged and had ample reasons
given that he reluctantly gave his consent.1 Even in the dis
putes about ecclesiastical property, the King seems to have
dealt out even-handed justice. At Blackburn a Catholic named
Walmsly converted a chapel of which he had possession into
a mass-house. The vicar of the parish claimed it as Church
property. Walmsly could plead both private right and actual
possession. Yet James declared in favor of the churchman.2
Penn must have known of numerous acts like these, and taken
in connection with the often-repeated assurances of the King,
they served to satisfy him that time, and a more charitable
frame of the public mind were alone wanting to complete the
great work of toleration.3
There was a curious but a powerful bond of friendship be
tween the Quaker and the Catholic, as such, in that age : — ¦
They had suffered proscription, pillories, exile and death to
gether in the common name of religion, and hundreds of them
had made acquaintance in the prisons where they were equally
immured for conscience' sake. Penn had never been betrayed
by injustice into wrong. When suffering imprisonment him
self, under laws especially directed against Papists, he had
never proposed to escape from this unmerited punishment by
joining in the hue and cry after the poor Romanists. On the
contrary, while severely condemning their creed he contended
for their liberty of thought. All that he asked for himself he
gave to them.4 He still contended for that sacred right, even
now that it had become for the moment more unpopular than
ever. Yet not without drawing suspicion and trouble upon
himself. Hearing him express none of the usual cant about
Popery, the ignorant and the bigoted began to suspect that
he was a Papist in disguise. How easy the inferences of
ignorance ! He was often at court and enjoyed favor with
the King. The needy courtiers who waited in the ante
chamber while he was closeted with their master, could think
' Letter-Book, 406-408. State Paper Office.
2 Ibid. April 7, 1688. State Paper Office.
3 Penn to the Quakers, Phil. Friend, vi. 57. From the "Book of Secret
Service "I will quote a note illustrating James's tolerance — "To Charles
Mearne, bookseller, for several Church Bibles, Common Prayer-Books, Books
of Homilies, and other books delivered to the Bishop of London, to be sent
to the Plantations of Virginia and New England. . . 139Z. 15s. lid" P. 122.
4 Speech to the House of Commons, ante, pp. 157-8.
21

242

WILLIAM PENN.

of no other explanation of his influence. A ludicrous incident
made the suspicion certainty. Penn was travelling in the
country in a stage coach; and as the vehicle went slowly
along the passengers beguiled the time by conversation on the
usual topics of the day. One man asked him how he and
Barclay and Keith came to have so much learning and such a
love of letters, seeing that Quakers professed to despise these
things ? I suppose, said Penn, it comes of my having been
educated at Samur. Mistaking the name, the questioner re
peated every where that he had been educated at St. Omer's.1
St. Omer's was the great Jesuit seminary. How easy the
conclusion then ! He must be, not merely a Papist, but a
concealed Jesuit. The mob caught at this story, as they
will at any wondrous tale ; and in a short time it had received
various additions. It was said in every coffee-house in Lon
don that he had matriculated in the Jesuits' College, — had
taken holy orders in Rome, — and now regularly officiated at
the service of mass in the private chapel at Whitehall. All
this was said in spite of his lay habits, — his house at Charing
Cross, — his wife and children, — his public preaching, — his
Caveat against Popery!2 Nor did these simple inventions long
content the curious ; more mysterious and romantic incidents
came out. A tale got current of a monk who had abjured his
faith and fled away to America for safety. Attracted by its
high repute to Pennsylvania, the poor fellow placed himself
unwittingly in the power of his superior, who had him secretly
kidnapped by his own familiars and sent to Europe, to be
there delivered over to the awful retributions of the Church.3
Some men of calm and sober judgment were weak enough to
lend a willing ear to these reports; the temper of the public
1 Gent. Mag. vii. 495.
2 Popple to Penn, October 20. From one of his private and hitherto un
published letters to his American agent, I extract a few words on the con
duct of the Jesuit Court of France at this time : — " It is a time to be wise.
I long to be with you ; but the Eternal God do as he pleases. Oh, be you
watchful ! Fear and sanctify the Lord in your hearts I In France not a
meeting of Protestants is left. They force all to conform by not suffering
them to sleep. They use drums or fling water on the drowsy, till they sub
mit or run mad. They pray to be killed. But the King has ordered his
dragoons, that are his inquisitors and converters, to do any thing but kill
and ravish. Such as fly and are caught are executed or sent to the galleys.
Thus they use all qualities, from dukes and duchesses to the meanest." MS.
Letter to Harrison, October 25.
3 Popple to Penn, October 20.

WILLIAM PENN. 243
was unsettled, and it was suspected on fair ground that the
religious orders of Rome had received instructions to get
among the Quakers and other advanced sectaries in England.1
The famous Dr. Tillotson was in this class. He had been an
old friend of Penn's : he admired his parts and respected his
integrity. When this accusation first arose, he resolved to
seek an explanation, that his own mind might be at rest on
the subject. Therefore, when Penn called at his house in the
usual way, he told him it was reported that he kept up a
secret correspondence with Rome, and particularly with some
of the Jesuits there, at which his visitor was both surprised
and amused. The conversation, however, became general,
and nothing more was said on that point, — nor was it renewed
for a long time, as the new governor went out to his province,
and on his return he had either forgotten the circumstance or
was too busy to attend to such matters.2 When the Doctor
heard Penn accused of being a Jesuit, he did not feel assured
that he could deny it on certain knowledge ; and as they were
well known to have been for a long time on intimate terms,
the gossips found a support for the rumor even in his silence.
It was soon noised abroad that Tillotson had affirmed of his
own knowledge that Penn was a Jesuit.3
Few men despised clamor and false representation more
than he did ; but he thought it time to speak out when those
who should have known him better were said to countenance
such reports. He sat down and wrote a manly complaint to
his old friend ; — he was grieved, he said, to hear the reports
in question, whether it was the public which abused Tillotson
or Tillotson who had misunderstood him. He would only
say, for he could not join in a cry to ruin those he differed
with, that he abhorred two principles in religion, and pitied
those who held them — obedience on mere authority without
conviction, and persecution of man on pretence of serving
God. He thought union was best when the truth was clear ;
where not, charity. He entirely agreed with Hooker, that a
few words spoken with meekness, humility and love are worth
whole volumes of controversy — which commonly destroys
charity, the best part of religion.4
Tillotson replied without reserve. He had, he admitted,
1 Thurloe State Papers, vii. 117.
* Corresp. with Tillotson. Penn's Works, i. 126, et seq.
3 Besse, 126. 4 Penn to Tillotson, January 22, 1686.

244 WILLIAM PENN.
been troubled with doubts and had sometimes spoken of them.
He was sorry for it. He admired his old friend's wit and
zeal ; and so soon as he distinctly stated he was not a Papist,
he would do all in his power to correct the rumors that were
about.1 Penn answered at once that he had no correspond
ence with the Jesuits or with any other body at Rome — that
he wrote no letters to any priest of the Popish faith — that he
was not even acquainted with any one belonging to that com
munion. Yet he added, though not a Romanist, he was a
Catholic ; he could not deny to others what he claimed for
himself — thinking faith, piety and providence a better security
than force : and that if truth could not succeed with her own
weapons, all others would fail her.2 On the receipt of this
letter Tillotson called on Penn and their old intimacy was
renewed. Tillotson did what he could to put an end to the
false reports ; but they whose purposes it served were unwil
ling to be set right, and the rumor not only spread more and
more, but the doctor's name was still coupled with it as its
voucher. Tillotson, thereupon, placed in his friend's hands a
written disavowal, to be shown to such as repeated the
slander.3 It was years, however, before he heard the last of
this Jesuitism.
Meantime he pursued his own course. Every month grow
ing less hopeful of the future, he would gladly have returned
to his colony, had he considered merely his own ease ; but the
King pressed him to remain in England until an Act of Par
liament had legally and firmly established freedom for thought.
His heart yearned for the other world. The repose of the
Delaware, the rising greatness of Philadelphia, haunted his
dreams and mingled with the scenes of his daily life.4 The
1 Tillotson to Penn, Jan. 26. 2 Penn to Tillotson, Jan. 29.
3 " April 29, 1686. — Sir, I am very sorry that the suspicion I had enter
tained concerning you, and of which I gave you the true account in my
former letter, hath occasioned so much tronble and inconvenience to you :
and I do now declare with great joy that I am fully satisfied that there was
no just ground of suspicion, and therefore do heartily beg your pardon.
And ever since you were pleased to give me that satisfaction, I have taken
all occasion to vindicate you in this matter, and shall be ready to do so to
the person who sent you the enclosed whenever he will please to come to me.
I am very much in the country, but will seek the first opportunity to visit
you at Charing Cross and renew our acquaintance, in which I took great
pleasure. I rest your faithful friend, Jo. Tillotson."
4 Penn to Harrison, April 24, MS. — " For my coming over, cheer up the
people. I press the matter all I can, but the great undertakings that crowd
on me, hinder me yet. But my heart is with you."

WILLIAM PENN. 245
favor of the King had powerful drawbacks in the envy and
suspicion with which he was regarded; and he longed to
escape from the atmosphere of a court into the forests of
Pennsylvania.1 But a stern sense of duty kept him in Eng
land.2 By speech and writing, by his influence with the great,
and by his power with Dissenters, he worked day and night to
accomplish the great task. The chief obstacle was the mutual
ignorance and bigotry of court and parliament, — and he
strove to enlighten them on the policy of toleration. The
" Persuasive to Moderation" is an able and learned history of
opinion and experiment on the subject. He called history to
witness — he quoted the wisdom of the wise, and the experi
ences of time, in support of his argument.3 The paper was
addressed to the King and council ; it created a sensation,
and contributed to procure that general pardon which set
some thousands of prisoners for conscience' sake — including
twelve or thirteen hundred Quakers — at liberty.4 Still this
act of grace was due only to the will of the monarch ; the
penal laws remained in force ; the poor sufferers were liable
to be seized again for the same offences and again sent to
gaol.5 Rightly or wrongly the leaders of opinion would not
believe in the sincerity of James. The bigots murmured at
every fresh pardon granted to a sectary; and the mainten
ance of the Test Act became the avowed policy of all parties
in opposition. The hopes of churchmen had already turned
to the Hague, and the sagacious Prjnce of Orange, playing
for no less a stake than one of the first crowns in Europe,
while professing liberal sentiments, took care to confirm them
in their opposition to the King's policy. James already felt
the power of his Dutch son-in-law in his kingdom ; and seeing
no reason to expect a majority of the House of Commons
favorable to his views while they were upheld by William, he
sent Penn over to the Hague — not in the formal character of
an envoy, but so accredited as to satisfy the prince that he
spoke by authority — to ascertain his opinions.6 Burnet was
then an exile in Holland, and from his intimate knowledge of
' Hazard's Register, iv. 104.
2 Penn to Harrison, April £4, 1686, MS. 3 Works ii. 727.
4 Penn to Harrison, April 24, MS. Besse, 128.
' Penn was himself three times arrested at meetings within a few weeks, —
but of course got free again as soon as the King learned his situation. Penn
to Harrison, April 24, MS.
6 Burnet, iii. 139. 21*

246 WILLIAM PENN.
English affairs was of great service to the prince ; but he was
a weak-headed man, unused to take large views of things, and
though liberal enough to desire an Act of Toleration, was
entirely opposed to a repeal of the tests. The Prince of
Orange, unfortunately for this country, had formed his idea of
an ecclesiastical policy for England from this bigoted church
man ; and although he allowed Penn two or three long audi
ences, he adhered to his own plans. The envoy was instructed
to make the most liberal proposals, if William would aid him
to pass an Act of Toleration for all creeds and opinions — to
obtain a repeal of the hated tests. James promised to con
sult him in every thing, and to put his friends in the highest
places.1 The prince remained inflexible. He would consent
to an Act of Toleration, but he would not consent to a re
peal of the tests — the bulwarks of the Church !2 While at
the court of Holland, Penn mixed freely with the exiles
who thronged the streets — the old comrades of Sidney and
Argyle ; he studied their views, and made acquaintance with
their miseries.3 With Burnet he had long and frequent dis
cussions ; but the Protestant zeal of the doctor was only in
flamed by his firm adherence to his old opinions. They met
with suspicion, Burnet accusing Penn of a leaning to Popery —
Penn accusing Burnet of bigotry and intolerance ; and they
parted with coldness, and on one side with bitter enmity.4
His hopes turned more and more towards Pennsylvania.
There he had secured a home for the oppressed. Time, he
knew, would make it a great nation. He would help on the
good work as fast as he might be able. So, having finished
his business at the Hague, he went to Amsterdam, where he
engaged the celebrated Wilhelm Sewell — an old friend and
correspondent — to translate his account of Pennsylvania into
Flemish, and circulate it among the able and industrious farm-
i Ibid. iii. 140.
2 Van Citters, Nov. 26, Dec. 6, 1836..— " Aengaende het point der Tolle-
rantie wert hier nu opently voorgegeven, dat soo syn Hoogheyt als Mevrouw
de Princes haer daer vperen souden verclaert hebben, en dat mein in het
aenstaende Parlement dat mede soo debiteren zal, en dat hoogstgedaghte syn
hoogheyt met den bekenden Pen die Archiquaecker, wie patron is van Pen-
silvaniain America, daerover in 't lange soude gesproken hebben, en denselve
hem dien aengaende diermaten, soude verclaert hebben." This letter is not
in the archives of the Hague, but in possession of Van Citters' family. The
English State Papers of the period are most of them in private hands!
3 Buchan's Lives of Fletcher of Saltoun and Thompson.
4 Burnet, iii. 141.

WILLIAM PENN. 247
ers of the Low Countries. He travelled through Holland and
into the Rhineland, bearing every where the glad tidings that
a land of freemen had sprung up in the New World, where
every man enjoyed his full share of political power, and every
class of opinions was respected.1 To the citizens of the Upper
Rhine he could report the success of the German colony. At
a short distance from Philadelphia their countrymen had built
a town, which, in affectionate remembrance of the fatherland,
they had called Germanopolis. It was situate in a beautiful
and fertile district ; on the spot were a number of fresh springs ;
in the vicinity were oak, walnut, and chestnut trees in abun
dance ; and the surrounding country was not only in places
favorable to the culture of the vine, but every where afforded
excellent and plentiful pasturage for cattle.2
On his return to London he appealed to the King and
couhcil in behalf of the exiles. There were two classes of
English in Holland. The most numerous was that of political
offenders. At first Penn tried to obtain a general pardon ;
but of this James would not hear. To individual cases he
was open, and several pardons were obtained from him in his
more gracious moods.3 But there were many who had merely
fled away from religious persecution ; and he reminded James
that it would be in strict accordance with the gracious inten
tions he had formed, to offer these men an indemnity and
recall. Thus pressed, the King issued an order to that effect,
and a great number of persons, who had not been engaged in
treasonable acts against the government, returned to their
homes and families. The indemnity was traced entirely to
the influence of Penn ; and the posterity of some of the men
whom it restored to their country cherished for many years a
grateful remembrance of his services.3
The failure of Penn's mission to the Prince of Orange hur
ried matters to a crisis in England. James was resolved to
effect his purpose; and, as a Catholic, he not unnaturally,-
though most unwisely, began to lean more and more towards
his great Catholic neighbor. Penn saw the danger of such
an alliance more clearly than the King, and he counselled him
earnestly against even raising the suspicion of a desire to rely
1 Penn to Harrison, September 23, 1686, MS.
2 Pastorius (in Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. Part ii. 92.)
3 Lawton's Mem. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii.
4 Buchan's Lives of Fletcher of Saltoun and Thompson.

248

WILLIAM PENN.

on France.1 But James was infatuated. It is not improbable
that, irritated by the perverse conduct of the churchmen, he
secretly changed his own views ; and instead of simply asking
toleration for the faith which he believed to be right, resolved
to aim at a complete subversion of the Established Church.
There is unquestionably a change of tone in the correspond
ence with Versailles. From the probabilities of gaining a
Bill of Toleration, the discussion assumes the King's aim to
be the reintroduction of Popery as the state religion.2 His
son-in-law ranged with his enemies, and Parliament deter
mined to thwart his plans, James tried his right to suspend
the whole body of the penal laws which oppressed his sub
jects. The question was regularly brought to issue in the
courts of law ; and, with the exception of Street, the judges
were unanimously of opinion that, according to the laws and
usages of England, the King had power to suspend the ob
noxious enactments.3 James was not long in making full use
of this dangerous prerogative. On the 18th of March (1687)
he called the privy council together : — he told them he in
tended to use his royal right. Experience had shown the
uselessness of penal laws. They did not prevent new sects
from springing up. They were a perpetual cause of soreness
and discontent. It was time to put an end to these civil trou
bles. Conscience was a thing not to be forced ; and he was
resolved to give to all his people alike the right of opinion,
which he claimed for himself. A few days later the royal
proclamation appeared. It announced that the King had sus
pended all the laws against religious offences ; it forbade the
application of any test, or the offer of any oath, to persons
about to take office under the state.4
This announcement was received with different feelings.
The oppressed sectaries were loud in the expression of their
gratitude. The King's act not only opened to them their
prison-doors, but restored them from civil death to civil life.
Some of them entered the army, the navy, the civil service.
From being persecuted wretches, they suddenly acquired the
rights and dignities of Englishmen. Some of the more
1 Van Citters' Letter, July 19-29, 1687, MS. — " He has advised the King,
so long as his affairs at home are so changeable, above all to be cautious in his
connection with France."
2 Compare Louis to Barillon, June 15, 1685, with July 13, and the subse
quent correspondence.
3 State Trials, ix. 1165-1199. 4 Gazette, 2231.

WILLIAM PENN. 249
wealthy and intelligent were made magistrates, sheriffs, and
lieutenants of counties. Even the Quakers began to take
some share in public business ; and at the next yearly meeting
of the body the question was discussed whether they should
accept or refuse magistracies.1 All parties in the great body
of dissent were elated at the changes which had taken place.
The Anabaptists were the first to approach the throne with
the expression of their thanks ; the Quakers soon followed ;
then came the Independents, the Presbyterians, and the Ca
tholics.2 The Quakers were headed by Penn : and in the
excess of their satisfaction they even agreed to waive the un-
courtly ceremony of the hat. In Sunderland's apartment the
deputation uncovered themselves, and leaving their hats be
hind, went into the presence bare-headed.3 Penn made a
short speech to the King, and then delivered the address from
the general body.4 James assured the deputation that he had
always been of opinion that conscience should be free, and
appealed to Penn in confirmation of what he then told them.
He said he should remain firm to the Declaration ; and he
hoped to establish it before he died in so regular and legal a
manner, that future ages should have no reason to change it.
Penn needed this assurance. He feared the King's violent
temper not less than the bigotry of Parliament, fie had no
confidence in a freedom depending on the will of James ; and
he even asserted in the address a hope that means would be
taken to get the formal sanction of the legislature.6 In a
private audience he went still further. He told the King that
the only way to secure the confidence of the nation, and to
obtain the sanction of Parliament for the law he had so much
at heart, was to act on open and moderate principles — to
banish the Jesuits and other ultra-Papists, who now surrounded
him daily at Whitehall, from his presence. In this way only
could freedom be given to conscience in England. Had James
had the moral courage to follow this counsel he might have
died on the throne of his ancestors, and left behind him a
great reputation amongst our native princes. He hesitated
—and fell.6
Two powerful parties received the Declaration with open
1 MS. Records in Devonshire House. 2 Kennett, 463-5.
3 Barillon to Louis, May 12. 4 Ayscough MS. 44.
6 Besse, 130. 6 Ayscough MSS. 44.
¦ Van Citters, July 19, 1687, MS.

5

250 WILLIAM PENN.
hostility. The Protestant feeling of the country was alarmed
— and not without cause. The King was an ostentatious de
votee. He spent as much as ten hours a day with his pray
ers and his rosaries. It got abroad that he was urging the
Princess Anne to make a new declaration of faith.1 He had
introduced and protected various orders of popish monks. A
company of Benedictines were settled at St. James'. The
Franciscans had built a chapel in Lincoln Fields. The Cis
tercians took up their abode in the city.2 A papal nuncio was
received at court ; and the Jesuit Father Petre was sumptu
ously lodged at Whitehall in the apartments occupied by
James himself when Duke of York.3 A new royal chapel,
adapted to the gorgeous ritual of the Roman Church, had
been erected near the Palace ; and, worst of all, the Jesuits
had founded a college in the Savoy for the education of youth,
which Was already crowded with scholars, half of them at
least the children of protestant parents.4 No zealous church
man could think of these things without alarm and indigna
tion. There were other fears in which Penn could sympathize
more freely. Liberal men saw the peril of such a power as
the King now claimed. Where was the line to be drawn ? If
the King could suspend the penal laws, what could prevent
him from suspending the Habeas Corpus Act, or even the
Great Charter? James had formed a camp at Hounslow,
and although he there drank healths to the Church of Eng
land as by law established, many moderate men suspected
some deep design against the liberties of the subject to be the
end of his military organization.5 The friends of toleration,
and Penn more than others, were therefore most anxious to
obtain the sanction of Parliament for the suspension of the
penal laws.6
The Jesuits had obtained a commanding influence at White
hall, and the real friends of the King began to see with alarm
that their pernicious counsels would bring some fatal disaster
on the country. Against this evil influence Penn strained
every nerve, — often using a boldness of expostulation which
James would not have brooked from any other man.7 He told
1 Ellis Orig. Letters, iv. 90, 91, First Series.
2 Mem. of James the Second, 79. 3 Ellis, Orig. Letters, iv. 100, 1st Series.
4 Mem. of James the Second, 79.
6 Ellis, Orig. Letters, iv. 96. First Series.
6 Johnstone, February 6, 1688. Quo. Mackintosh, 219.
7 Clarendon Diary, June 23, 1688.

WILLIAM PENN. 251
him that neither Churchmen nor Dissenters would bear their
pride and ambition. The nation, he hinted broadly, was
alarmed, but still more indignant.1 He wished to see the
Whigs taken into greater confidence, and kept up an irregular
intercourse between their leaders and the court. He carried
Secretary Trenchard, Lord Chief Justice Treby, and Mr.
Lawton to the royal closet, and urged them to speak openly
to the King, disguising nothing of the state of the nation,
but placing before him in its true aspect the general opinion
as to his course of policy. James was sometimes deeply
impressed with these discourses. Trenchard was an accom
plished courtier ; he had been one of the Holland exiles, and
owed his restoration to his native land to Penn. Lawton, a
young man of parts and spirit, had attracted Penn's notice ;
in politics he was a state Whig, and it was at his instance
that he had braved the King's frowns by asking a pardon for
Aaron Smith. One day over their wine at Popple's, where
Penn had carried Lawton to dine, he said to his host : — " I
have brought you such a man as you never saw before ; for I
have just now asked him how I might do something for him
self, and he has desired me to get a pardon for another man !
I will do that if I can ; but," he added, turning to Lawton,
"I should be glad if thou wilt think of some kindness for
thyself." "Ah," said Lawton, after a moment's thought, "I
can tell you how you might indeed prolong my life." "How
so?" returned the mediator ; "I am no physician." Lawton
answered : " There is Jack Trenchard in exile. If you could
get leave for him to come home with safety and honor, the
drinking of a bottle now and then with Jack would make me
so cheerful that it would prolong my life." They laughed at
the pleasantry ; and Penn promised to do what he could. He
went away to the Lord Chancellor, got him to join in the
solicitation, and in a few days the future secretary was par
doned and allowed to return to England.2
As Trenchard knew the exiles and the opinions current in
Holland, Penn felt how serviceable he might be if James
would only listen to his advice. That together they pro
duced a powerful diversion of sentiment is certain ; and things
were so near a change at one moment, that Penn was actually
' Van Citters, July 19-28, 1687. MS.
2 Lawton's Mem. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part. ii. 220. 3 Ibid. 227.

252 WILLIAM PENN.
sent by the King to Lord Somers with an offer of the solici
tor-generalship : this was before it was offered to Sir William
Williams, and consequently before the trial of the seven pre
lates.1 But these favorable signs passed away ; and the next step
into which the King was urged by his Jesuit friends was an
attempt to obtain a footing for the members of his own
Church in the Universities. The right of Catholics, as of all
other Englishmen, to share in the advantages offered by our
national seats of learning, most liberal men now concede —
though the right is not yet legally admitted. To James it
seemed intolerable that the very descendants of the men who
had founded and endowed the colleges with their worldly es
tates should be excluded from them because they had not
changed their religion ; and Penn, who saw no evil in a libe
ral education for all classes, was equally anxious that his own
alma mater should be open to his children without any sa
crifice of their conscientious scruples. But considering the
violent and suspicious temper of the times, the King showed
little tact in his mode of opening these nice discussions ; and
unfortunately he embroiled himself at the same moment in
quarrels with both Oxford and Cambridge. It had been cus
tomary at the eastern University to grant honorary degrees
at the recommendation of the sovereign, without the usual
oaths or examinations. The Mohammedan secretary to the
Morocco embassy, and several other persons connected with
foreign courts, had been thus honored. Native noblemen fre
quently received the distinction without examination, — and
Lightfoot had not been subjected to the oaths. The King or
dered the Vice-Chancellor to admit Alban Francis, a Bene
dictine monk and Catholic missionary in the district ; but Dr.
Peachey was alarmed at the idea of a papist getting into his
little senate, and made conscientious objections. These ob
jections James received as a personal insult. He referred to
the customs of the University, and found there was no in
stance of the royal mandate having been refused, — that ex
amination had frequently been dispensed with ; and as to the
oaths, it was not to be endured by such a man that a scholas
tic body should dispute a right which the whole bench of
judges had declared to pertain to the crown. Peachey was
1 Lawton's Mem. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem.' iii. Part ii. 227.

WILLIAM PENN. 253
prosecuted and dismissed his office, — though not without vio
lent scenes occurring in the University.1 The Oxford affair
was much more serious. The presidency of Magdalen College,
then one of the richest foundations in Europe, was vacant.
James naturally desired that so important an office should be
filled by one not unfriendly to the Catholics, and he therefore
named Antony Farmer for election. But on inquiry being
made it was found that Farmer was not legally qualified, and
was besides a man of ill repute. The Fellows of the College
thereupon drew up a petition praying the King to name some
other person ; but through an error this prayer did not reach
his majesty for some days, and in the meantime, not hearing
from Whitehall, they elected Dr. Hough, a man of blameless
life and moderate abilities, to their president's chair.2 Hough
and Farmer both appealed to the King, — and he referred
the case to the Ecclesiastical Commission, by which tribunal
Hough's election was declared void, and Farmer's case was
quietly dropped. The friends of the court then tried to allay
the heats which had arisen. Several weeks were allowed to
elapse that passion might cool down, but the Fellows were
now excited to the pitch of resistance, and when James sent a
new mandate, ordering them to proceed to a fresh election,
and recommending the bishop of the diocese to their favor,
they boldly declared they could not obey, as Hough was alive,
and they regarded him as duly chosen. The King heard this
report with an angry scowl. When, in his journey to Bath,
he received at Oxford the Heads of Colleges, he upbraided
them in unkingly terms for their disobedience, and threatened
to proceed against them to extremities unless they complied
with his wishes. They continued firm, and his anger hurried
him into a course which his judgment did not approve, and
which he afterwards bitterly regretted.3
There was much need of a wise and sober mediator. Penn,
then on a tour in the western counties, had joined the King
in his progress; and deeply grieved at the turn which, the
College affair had taken, interposed his good offices to procure
an amicable settlement of the dispute.4 He went to see the
1 Mem. of James the Second, ii. 125-7. State Trials, xi. 1315-40.
2 Wilmot's Life of Hough, 10 et seq. There are several letters of Hough's
in the Brit. Mus., Add. MSS. 9828.
3 Mem. of James the Second, ii. 124.
4 Creech to Charlett, September 6. MS. in Ballard's Collection of MS.
Letters, xx., Bodleian Library. 22

254 WILLIAM PENN.
Fellows of Magdalen ; from what he had heard of the dis
pute, he thought they might be induced to make such conces
sions as would promote peace and save the King's honor.
But on hearing from Creech, whom he met at a dinner-party
immediately on his arrival at Oxford, a lengthened account
of what had occurred, he felt less sanguine.1 Next morning
he rode down to Magdalen and met the Fellows : "Hough, the
President, Hunt, Bailey, and others, were present. Here
they had a long and interesting discourse. The collegians
cited their charters and appealed to their Protestant charac
ter. Penn was soon convinced that they were in the right
and that the King was in the wrong ; and with the ready
frankness which distinguished him, he not only let the Fel
lows see that he sympathized with them in their trials, but
offered to write to his majesty and tell him what he thought.2
They, of course, gladly availed themselves of this important
and impartial testimony ; paper and pens were brought, and
in their presence he wrote a short but pregnant letter. Their
case, he said, was a very hard one ; they could not yield to
his majesty's desire without an evident breach of their oaths.
Such mandates, he concluded, were a force on conscience, and
therefore contrary to the King's own intentions. This letter
the collegians themselves delivered to their sovereign.3
James continued obstinate as ever. On the day of his in
terview with the College, Penn was obliged by his private
concerns to quit Oxford ; but the Fellows had already learned
to regard him as their friend and mediator. Of this there
can be no doubt. A prominent member of the College, Dr.
Bailey, wrote to him after he quitted Oxford, as one who had
been so kind as to appear in their behalf already, and was re
ported by all who knew him to employ much of his time in
doing good to mankind, and in using his credit with the King
to undeceive him of any wrong impressions he might enter
tain of his conscientious subjects, and to secure them from
prejudice and oppression.4 All the cotemporary accounts are
conceived in the same spirit. Creech says he appeared in
their behalf.5 Sykes is equally emphatic. Indeed the letter
1 Creech to Charlett, September 6, MS. in Ballard's Collection of MS.
Letters, xx., Bodleian Library.
2 Sykes to Charlett, Sept. 7. MS. Ballard's MSS. xxi.
3 Ibid. ; also Creech to the same, September 6, MS.
4 Bailey to Penn, October 3.
6 Creech to Charlett, September 6, MS. Ballard's MSS.

WILLIAM PENN. 255
to the King would be decisive, were there no other evidence.
That letter emboldened the Fellows to draw up a strong peti
tion to the same effect, which they all signed and carried to
Lord Sunderland, who promised to present it to his Majesty.1
The King still refused to listen. Remonstrance and en
treaty were equally vain. Though Penn denounced his
measures as contrary to his often-avowed sentiments in favor
of liberty of conscience, and the Chief Justice Herbert de
clared them against the law of the land, he would not re
treat.2 He professed to believe it impossible for churchmen
to oppose the royal will. A sincere bigot himself, and scru
pulously truthful in his words, he could not imagine, after the
declaration of unlimited obedience promulgated by the whole
University, that the members of a single college would dare
to appeal from their own dogma to the free instincts of na
ture. "If you are really Church-of-England men," he said
to the deputation, " prove it by your obedience."3
Magdalen had still much need of Penn's services ; and to
secure his goodwill and future mediation in their cause, Dr.
Hough and several Fellows were deputed to wait on him after
he had again joined the court circle at Windsor. The par
ticulars of the interview then and there held are preserved by
Hough himself.4 The conversation was continued for three
hours. Penn expressed his great concern for the welfare of
the College, and said he had made many efforts to reconcile
the King to what had passed. He regretted that matters
had gone so far before he was made aware of the dispute ; in
an earlier stage — before the King's self-love had been
wounded-r-it would have been comparatively easy to arrange.
Still he would do his best ; and if he failed, it would not be
for want of will to serve their cause. He then stated such
doubts as had occurred to him ; the Fellows answered them
one by one, and after some thought he confirmed his former
impression and confessed himself satisfied they were in the
right. On their way to Windsor, the deputation had feared
lest Penn might make some tempting offer at accommodation.
But on further acquaintance with the dispute, he felt that
they were right, and though he wished the quarrel ended, he
would not insult them by advising submission.5 Once he
1 Sykes to Charlett, Sept. 9, MS. 2 State Trials, xi. 1063.
3 Creech to Charlett, September 6, MS. Ballard's MSS.
4 Hough to his cousin, October 9. 6 Ibid.

256 WILLIAM PENN.
asked the Fellows, smiling, how they would like to see Hough
made bishop. Cradock replied, in the same vein of pleasantry
— they would be very glad, as the presidency and bishopric
would go well enough together. But Hough answered, as he
says, seriously; and the allusion dropped.1 The deputation
was possessed with the fixed idea that James intended to rob
them of their college. The Papists, they said, had already
wrested from them Christ Church and University; the con
test was now for Magdalen. This touched Penn nearly ; he
remembered his own writings against Catholic doctrine ; and
he replied with vehemence — That they shall never have. The
Fellows, he said, might be assured. The Catholics had got
two colleges : to them he did not dispute their right ; but he
could confide in their prudence. Honest men would defend
their just claims ; but should they go beyond their common
rights as Englishmen, and ask from royal favor what was not
their due, they would peril all they had acquired. He felt
sure they would not be so senseless. At the same time he
told his visitors that he thought it unfair and unwise in them
to attempt to close the national Universities to any class of
Englishmen : others besides churchmen wished to give their
children a learned education. To this free counsel Hough
made some demur ; and finding the chief of his visitors a man
of narrow views, Penn ceased to urge this point, though he
felt that, as far as liberal men were concerned, it lay at the
root of the question. Though he could not agree with their
educational politics, he said he was willing to be of use to
them with the King. Hough suggested that he could most
promote their interests by laying a true statement of the case
before their incensed sovereign. They produced several pa
pers, which he read over carefully ; these he promised to read
again to the King, unless peremptorily forbidden. And so
the deputation withdrew.2
James was not to be stirred from his purpose. A commis
sion was sent down to Oxford, and the uncompromising cham
pions of Church prerogative were all ejected from the college.
Yet they lost little by their temporary removal. His self-love
gratified, the King soon afterwards restored the Fellows to
1 Hough to his cousin, Oct. 9.
2 Ibid. See Extra Chapteb, The Macaulay Charges.

WILLIAM PENN. 257
their honors and emoluments ; and after the revolution Hough
was rewarded for his resistance with a bishopric.1
Affairs were now hastening to a crisis. When Dissenters
and Commonwealth men were the only parties likely to fall
under the frowns of authority, Oxford could issue precepts of
unconditional obedience ; but when its own rights and privi
leges were placed in peril, it was the first and most obstinate
in resistance. A cynic would have smiled at this conversion ;
but Penn remembered how that infamous edict had clouded
the last days of Algernon Sidney, and he longed to break
away from a scene so full of corruption to the freedom of his
own virgin forests.2 In the very height of his courtly great
ness, he wrote to his friends in Philadelphia in terms which
no one can mistake : — The Lord only, he said, knew the sor
row, the expense, the hazard of his absence from the colony ;
but his prayers were poured out fervently and with a prostrate
soul to Him for aid to return to that beloved country where
he was anxious to live and die.3 But the King pressed him to
remain in England. He declared himself resolved to establish
toleration and to abolish the Test Act ; in which good work,
he said, he should have to rely much on his help and counsel.4
Though his own affairs were getting daily more and more con
fused- by his absence from Pennsylvania, he could not desert
the headstrong reformer in his hour of need.5
Not satisfied with private mediation, such as he had exerted
in the Oxford affair, he took up his pen and wrote the elabor
ate and masterly pamphlet, " Good Advice to the Church of
England, the Roman Catholic and Protestant Dissenters "6 —
in which he showed the wisdom and policy, as well as Chris
tian duty, of repealing the Test Acts and penal laws against
opinion. He admitted frankly, as he had done to the Mag
dalen delegates, that if he had to choose a State Church, he
1 Letters in Add. MSS. 9828. Mem. of James the Second, 119-124. State
Trials, xii. 1-112.
2 Penn to Turner, September 18.
3 Hazard's Register, iv. 105. 4 Ibid. iv. 134.
6 " The Lord hath given me a great interest with the King — though not so
much as is said — and I confess I should rejoice to see England fixed, and the
penal laws repealed that are now suspended. If it goes welLwith England it can
not go ill with Pennsylvania. But this I will say, no temporal honor or profit
can tempt me to decline from Pennsylvania, as unkindly used as I am ; and
no poor slave in Turkey desires more earnestly for deliverance than I do to
be with you." Penn to Harrison, MS. (undated.)
6 Penn's Works, ii. 749. 22*

258 WILLIAM PENN.
would prefer the one that was by law established to either a
Catholic, a Presbyterian or any other. But he rejected the
idea of its being necessary to have a supreme and intolerant
Church. Opinion ought to be free ; though at the same time
he thought a proper respect should be paid by small bodies of
sectaries to the national feeling. Therefore he urged the
Catholics, seeing how few they were, and how powerful the
feeling was against them, to be content with a bare toleration,
and not provoke hostility by their ambition and self-seeking.1
His greatest fear was that the King, under ill advice, would
take some dangerous step against the Church, and ruin all his
hopes. To counteract the rashness of his temper he procured
anonymous letters from influential persons, which he read to
him in private, without telling him from whom they came.2
He took with him several churchmen to the royal closet, to
undeceive the King as to that passive obedience which he relied
on for impunity in his attacks. But James would not believe.:
he said he knew the spirit of the English Church. That it
' would never dare to oppose his edicts he was certain ; for had
not Oxford itself pledged the whole body of its followers to
observe obedience to the royal will, as though it were the voice
of God ! Lawton almost laughed in the King's face at finding
him so simple. "What," he said, "does any man live up to
the doctrines-he professes ? The churchmen may believe that
resistance is a sin ; but they believe that swearing and drunk
enness are sins also — yet many of them drink very hard and
swear very often." " Ha !" replied James, smiling disdainfully,
"you don't know the loyalty of the Church as well as I do,"
— and the bold expostulator bowed his way out of the royal
closet.3 In April of this eventful year James again renewed the De
claration of Indulgence ; in the November following he prom
ised that Parliament should meet ; and Penn fondly hoped that
the sanction of the two Houses would then be obtained for this
righteous law. But before that day arrived his sovereign was
an exile in a foreign land. In his misplaced confidence an
Order in Council had been issued at the same time as the royal
Declaration commanding it to be read in all churches. Penn
1 Penn's Works, 771-3.
2 Lawton's Memoirs. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 226.
3 Ibid. 224, 5.

WILLIAM PENN. 259
opposed this insane proceeding ; but nothing could now save
the infatuated monarch.1 Sancroft and six of the bishops op
posed this order ; they had now found out the folly of their
own doctrine of obedience, and the ministry committed them
to the Tower. Penn saw that this was the crisis of the ques
tion. In spite of the decision of the judges, he had doubts as
to the King's right to suspend the penal laws without consent
of Parliament ; and he struggled to bring more liberal coun
cillors into office. For a moment James inclined to adopt his
views ; he proposed to make Lawton a magistrate and a mem
ber of the Lower House ; he named Trenchard, Lord Chief
Justice at Chester (the post he was raised to after the Revo
lution); and sent his adviser to Lord Somers.2 When the
Prince of Wales was born, he urged the King to seize that
gracious opportunity to set the prelates at liberty, and pro
nounce a general pardon for the exiles. But an evil genius
overruled these sagacious councils.3 The bishops were tried
and acquitted to the satisfaction of the whole country. That
was the first act of the Revolution. Then William came over
with his Dutchmen, — the professed friends of James aban
doned him in his hour of peril, — and finding treason in the
court, in the camp, and in his own family, he fled before the
menaces of his son-in-law into France.4
That these events were a source of pain and anxiety to Penn
there can be no doubt. James had been throughout a kind
and indulgent guardian. He had rescued him from the dun
geons of the Tower, into which he had been thrown by the
Bishop of London on a charge of heresy. He had made over
to him in the first instance the territories of the Delaware.
He had interposed in the dispute with Baltimore, and procured
for him a favorable settlement of that troublesome claim. Two
years before his downfall, when the minister of the day had
issued writs of quo warranto against the proprietors of Con
necticut, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Rhode Island, the Jerseys,
Carolina, and the Bahama Islands, he interposed his good
offices and commanded Sunderland to strike the name of Penn
sylvania out of the list of condemned provinces.5 \
1 Lawton's Memoirs, 230. Johnstone, May 23. Quo. Macintosh, 241.
2 Ibid. Mem. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 227.
3 Ibid. 230-1. 4 Mem. of James the Second, ii. 275 77.
6 Sunderland Letter-Book, 029, 337. Plant. Gen. Papers, B. T. v. 32. State
Paper Office.

260 WILLIAM PENN.
As a Quaker and a Democrat, Penn of course had no sym
pathy with the political opinions of the King. When James
was put under arrest at Feversham, he was informed among
other disasters that Penn had been seized : he said he was
sorry for it, but he was sure that no serious charge could be
urged against him.1 His part had been open and consistent.
He had done his utmost to prevent the necessity for recourse
to a revolution ; and it was not without deep anxiety that he
saw the change of rulers. He believed James to be sincere
in his desire to establish freedom of opinion ; and as things
then stood in England, this freedom was of far greater im
portance than any question which could seriously arise as to
the limits of the royal prerogative. In William of Orange
he saw a man of policy — not of ideas. His object was to be
King ; and whatever, in the secret depths of his own mind,
he might think of tests — unknown in his own country — there
was no hope that he would risk the least unpopularity by help
ing to remove them from the statute-book of England.2

CHAPTER X.
1688-1694.
NIGHT AND MORNING.
The advance of William and the King's flight were the
signals for a general movement. The tools, the favorites, the
friends, the ministers of James, all thought it prudent to
retire from public notice. Curious were the means of escape
and ludicrous the incidents attending it in many instances.
The redoubtable Jeffreys tried to escape in the dress of a
common sailor ; the subtle and intriguing Sunderland quitted
his country in his wife's cap and petticoat.3 Of the men who
had stood near the throne for the last three years and a half,
Penn was almost the only one who remained in London. Con
scious of no crime, he turned a deaf ear to every entreaty
of his friends to provide for his personal safety by flight.
' Harl. MSS. 6852, Art. 26. 2 Letter to Popple, October 24.
3 Evelyn Mem. i. 660.

WILLIAM PENN. 261
They urged — and with reason — that he had been too intimate
with the late King to escape suspicion under the new reign ;
and if he did not choose to follow James into France, he had
still an honorable refuge open to him in America, where he
might remain in peace until the first heat of party vengeance
had abated. But he would not change his own straight course.
He said he had done nothing but what in his belief was for
the honor and good of England, — and he was not afraid to
answer for it before all the princes in the world. He would
not change his lodgings even ; or keep in the shade more than
he had done in his day of favor. As in the time of the late
King, he appeared daily at Whitehall -,1 which bold and open
conduct soon provoked inquiry. The Lords of the Council
who had assumed the general management of affairs on James'
flight becoming known, resolving to pass him under examina
tion, sent their messenger to him as he was taking his usual
walk in Whitehall ; and on being told that the Lords were
then sitting, he at once obeyed the summons to attend. The
moment was one of great excitement : the mob were already
engaged in burning the houses of suspected persons ; and to
have been associated in any way with the court was enough
to incur in their rude judgment the penalties of suspicion.
When Penn appeared before them, the Lords of the Council
inquired into his past conduct and present opinions. He cou
rageously replied, that with regard to what was passed, he
had always loved his country and the Protestant faith, and
had ever done his best to promote their true interests. As to
the present — the King, he said, had been his friend and his
father's friend, and therefore, though he no longer owed him
allegiance as a subject, as a man he retained for him all the
respect which in other days he had ever professed. He had
done nothing, and should do nothing, but what he was willing
to answer for before God and his country.2
The Lords were at a loss what to do. They were them
selves acting under a power which they had usurped; and
were afraid to take a step which might lead to failure and un
popularity. The only thing which appeared against the pri
soner was his own confession of attachment to the fugitive
King. Yet to discharge so conspicuous a friend of James,
they dared not, being unaware how far the Prince of Orange
1 Besse, i. 139. 2 Ibid.

262 WILLIAM PENN.
might approve of the step. They got over their difficulty by
taking security in 6000?. for his appearance on the first day
of the following term, to answer any charges which by that
time might be made against him ; and with the threat of pro
secution hanging above his head, he was permitted to remain
at large.1
Meantime the desires of the Prince of Orange were crowned
with success ; the government was settled, as he designed it
should be from the first, entirely in his own interest ; and he
and his consort — the legitimate heir to the throne, setting the
young Prince of Wales aside — were crowned King and Queen.
But Penn was not left in peace. Some fresh cause of suspi
cion arose,— low spies and informers dogged his footsteps, —
he was believed to be rich, and there were many about the
court who would gladly have shared in the spoils of his for
tune, — and at the end of February the Lords in Council issued
a warrant for his arrest.2 But the intended victim had been
secretly made aware of the new accusations against him, and
of the low witnesses whose evidence was to be taken, and he
prudently declined to surrender himself up until Easter term,
as already fixed in his bond. However, not to sanction mali
cious reports by an apparent flight, he wrote to the Duke of
Shrewsbury, to say that he was living at his own house in the
country, attending to his private affairs and the concerns of
his colony ; that he did not feel justified in giving himself up
an unbailable prisoner, seeing in how heavy a sum he was
already bound over to appear on the first day of the ensuing
term ; that he could affirm, without reserve or equivocation,
his entire ignorance of any plot or conspiracy against the new
government.3 The King seems to have acceded to his request
to be allowed to remain in the country until his day of trial.
By Easter term, however, men's minds were calmer ; and when
Penn appeared in court to defend himself, not one of his se
cret accusers dared to confront him. Not a whisper was there
'uttered of his being a Jesuit. No man accused him of having
done any wrong. The judge declared in open court that he
stood cleared and free of every charge that had been made
against him.4
Though now believing himself to be personally safe, he was
1 Ellis Correspondence, ii. 356.
a Privy Council Register, W. R. i. 24. Privy Council Office.
3 Penn to Shrewsbury, March 7, 1689. 4 Besse, i. 140.

WILLIAM PENN. 263
still anxious for his colony and his country. Even before the
coronation of William and Mary, he foresaw the probabilities
of a general war. The Prince of Orange had desired to be
King of England chiefly that he might become a power in
Europe. His thought by day and his dream by night was a
grand coalition of the Protestant powers of the North and a
war with France. A war with France, as the governor of
Pennsylvania knew only too well, would materially affect his
province; as the declaration itself would instantly lead to
hostilities in North America. He was most anxious, there
fore, to get out to Philadelphia before the troubles commenced
in that region ; and began to make preparation for the voy
age.1 A few weeks later the unwelcome tidings were officially
conveyed to all the plantations. The war with France, which
was to upset so many colonial governments, had actually com-
menced.2 In the midst of these discouraging prospects, it was some
consolation to find the new King of England true to the tole
rant principles which he had expressed in the Hague confer
ences. At the risk of giving mortal offence to the Church
party, he pressed for an Act of Toleration for Dissenters, and
even declared it necessary to afford protection to the Papists.3
His own temper was not merciful, but he was a politic prince ;
and he knew the vast power which the position he aimed to
acquire, as protector-general of Protestants, from the fiords
of Norway to the banks of the Theiss and the Danube,
would give him in the councils of Europe ; and he naturally
asked himself with what effect he could interfere in behalf of
the Finn or the Hungarian, if he gave the Catholic at home
a just cause of complaint ? Even before his election to the
throne he had entered into treaties with the Pope and the
Emperor.4 The Act of Toleration was, of course, powerfully opposed
by the Church ; but the King was resolved to carry it through
the two Houses, and he did so by a large majority. The ex
istence of Dissenters was recognized. Their chapels and
meeting-houses were made legal. They were no longer to be
liable to fines and imprisonments for not attending the Es-
1 Penn to Friends in Pennsylvania, January, 1689.
2 Plant. Gen. Papers, April 15. State Paper Office.
3 Burnet, iv. 21, 2. Hist. Pari. v. 184.
4 Dartmouth's Note to Burnet, iv. 21.

264 WILLIAM PENN.
tablished Church. The only exception to this general rule
was made in the case of Unitarians. They were still beyond
the pale — outlaws in their own land. But the number of per
sons professing simple Theism was not large in those days.
The Quakers were not only included in the general list of
Protestant sects, they were relieved from their old grievance
of double taxes on making a declaration of fidelity to their
Majesties ;x and a special clause was introduced in their behalf
into the bill. Other dissenting bodies were required to take
the usual oaths to the government: — the followers of Fox
were allowed to make a simple declaration. It was enacted
that licenses should be taken out for the houses, chapels, or
other buildings to be used for tbe performance of public wor
ship ; and that magistrates should have no power to refuse
the license except on good and reasonable grounds.2 Hence
forth every man could worship God according to his own no
tions, without the fear of stripes, stocks, fines, and imprison
ment being constantly before his eyes. A great instalment
of justice was paid down : — but it was only an instalment.
The Test Act was still unrepealed. The members of the Es
tablished Church alone enjoyed the full rights of Englishmen.
No Presbyterian, no Independent, no Quaker, could hold
office — serve in the army or navy — sit on the bench as a ma
gistrate — act as guardian to any ward — enter either of the
national Universities — or execute any legal trust. In relation
to the state he was still an outlaw. The Catholic and the
Socinian were in a still worse position. They were formally
excluded from the Act of Toleration.3
Penn was highly gratified with the results obtained, though
they fell so short of his own desires. The new Act disarmed
the petty tyrant. It opened the prison-doors to crowds of
his humble brethren. He hoped it would gradually lead to a
still more liberal and enlightened policy, when the dominant
parties became aware how great an accession of union and
strength it would bring to the nation. But he had little time
to indulge in these reflections. In the spring of 1690, before
the King set out for Ireland, where the war was raging, a
band of military one day beset his house and placed him
under arrest. He had no conception of the cause of this
1 Pari. Hist. v. 473. 2 Statutes, 1689.
3 Burnet, iv. 16.

WILLIAM PENN. 265
outrage ; but he was hurried off to the council, where the
Lords then sitting informed him that he was arrested on a
charge of holding treasonable correspondence with James
Stuart. He denied the charge, and appealed to the King in
person.1 The Lords of the Council, now the rigorous persecutors of
the exiled monarch, had some of them been the lowest fawners
in his day of power. Nottingham, Danby, Delamere, Henry
Sidney — these were some of them ! One can imagine an
honest man's indignation at their questioning. They were
good enough to admit the appeal ; and Penn was then ex
amined for two hours in the royal presence.2
At the outset he was informed that his clandestine corres
pondence was known to the King's government. What clan
destine correspondence ? He knew of none. An intercepted
letter from King James was then shown to him. It bore his
address ; and in it the royal writer desired him to go to his
assistance, and to express to him the resentments of his favor
and benevolence. He was asked why James Stuart wrote to
him ? He said he could not prevent it ; if the King chose,
he could write letters to any one, himself included. The
word "resentments" in the intercepted note puzzled the
council. What resentments were those which he desired ?
"I cannot tell," said Penn ; "but I suppose he wishes me to
assist in bringing about his restoration." The Lords were
startled at this frank interpretation. He could not, he con
tinued, very well avoid being suspected of entertaining such a
thought ; but he could and would take care not to give just
grounds for the suspicion. He confessed that towards the
person of the exile he had felt a sincere friendship ; and
having loved him in his prosperity he could not now hate him
in his adversity. But he must also be allowed to say, that
he had never been able to agree with him in his political
views. As a private person he was willing to render the exile
any service in his power : as a citizen he no longer owed him
obedience, and had never so much as thought of aiding to
replace the crown which had fallen from his head.3
William was struck with a defence so unusual. He had a
great desire to stand well with men capable of strong attach
ments. In England only a few months, he was already tired
1 Besse, i. 140. 2 Gerard Croese's History of Quakers, 3 Ibid.
23

266 WILLIAM PENN.
of his revolutionary friends, and had openly begun to look to
the Tories for support. Yet he never won the old cavaliers
to his cause. When Sunderland came back and regained the
King's confidence, he urged him to confide more in the Whigs.
" No," said William, " though I believe they love me best,
yet they do not love monarchy." " True," replied the cour
tier, " the Tories are the staunchest friends of the King : —
but then their King is James Stuart."1 William was early
made aware of that grave fact. The churchmen never cordially
loved his person or his government. Sancroft set the example,
and the inferior clergy were only too ready to obey his
signals.2 It therefore behooved the sagacious prince not to
throw away any chance of support among the Dissenters.
For his own part he would willingly have set Penn at liberty
without conditions ; but the council interposed, and in order
to gratify their malice he allowed him to be bound over to
appear in Trinity Term and answer any charges which might
then be preferred against him. At the appointed time he
appeared — and was again discharged.3
Meantime King James had landed in Ireland from France.
That devoted country rose at his call; and General Schomberg
was sent over with a small force to hold the insurrection
in check until William could himself cross the seas with a
larger army. The general made no head against the insur
gent troops, and it was with difficulty that he maintained his
own position in the country. The ex-monarch counted much
on the factious disputes in London, and strongly urged his
friends to be active in his cause. This policy only made
William more determined to secure every place of power and
trust in the hands of his own adherents. The local organiza
tion of towns was interfered with ; and though a similar in
vasion of ancient municipal rights had been one of the greatest
offences of the late ruler, the Dutch prince did not scruple to
displace a number of mayors and appoint his own creatures
in their stead.4 Nor was this the only irregularity. Conti
nental notions in other matters came in with the continental
prince. William no doubt had many foes, open and secret ;
but it is not likely that any King of English blood and educa-
1 Onslow's note, Burnet, iv. 5.
2 Buckingham's Works, ii. xiv. et seq.
3 Besse, i. 140.
4 Warrant Books, xxii. 113. State Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 267
tion would have dreamt, in the seventeenth century, of using
the infamous system of private lettres de cachet as a defence
against treason and conspiracy.1
William went over to Ireland and soon renewed the days of
Cromwell in that unhappy country. Queen Mary was charged
with full powers in his absence, and she displayed more vigor
and capacity in those critical and perilous times than her
subjects had ever dreamt she possessed. The French fleet,
fighting in the interests of James, had engaged with and van
quished the Dutch and English ships, and even threatened to
land on the coasts of Devonshire or Cornwall to rally the
discontents which prevailed against the new rulers.2 The
partisans of James began to raise their heads once more in
public ; but the Queen frustrated their designs by her promp
titude and vigor. She called out the militia ; sent the de
feated admiral, Lord Torrington, to the Tower ; appeased the
rising wrath of the States-General ; and seized the persons of
all whom she had reason to think disaffected to the new order
of things.3 Still the position of affairs was critical in the
extreme. The high churchmen hardly deigned to conceal
their dislike of the Dutch prince ; Archbishop Sancroft had
withdrawn himself from the council as soon as William's real
object in coming over to England was made clear ; the Bishop
of Ely and other prelates were equally opposed to his govern
ment ; and the commonalty were incensed at the thought of
a new levy of four millions of taxes to support a foreign war,
the interests of which they did not give themselves the trouble
to understand.4 While things were in this state of fear and
confusion, the captain of a vessel then lying in the Thames
went to the minister, Lord Carmarthen, to inform him that
some suspicious persons had been to his wife and engaged with
her to be secretly carried over l;o France on a certain day in
her husband's vessel. He was thanked for this information,
and told to carry out the contract as if nothing had occurred.
On the day appointed three muffled and unknown persons
entered the vessel, secreted themselves in the hold, and having
given the signal to depart, the captain began to drop down
the river. At Gravesend, however, by the contrivance of
1 Warrant Books, xxii. 263 . A warrant to have four seals made for private
lettres de cachet. 2 Burnet, iv. 95.
3 Ibid. iv. 96, 7. 4 Ibid. iv. 122.

268 WILLIAM PENN.
Carmarthen, there happened to be an officer of the press-gang
in search of sailors, who, boarding the vessel in execution of
his duty, found the three strangers in the hold and secured
their papers. The men were Lord Preston, Master Ashton,
a confidential agent of the Queen, Maria d'Este, and a young
man of the name of Elliott. Some of the papers were un
intelligible ; but enough remained to reveal the fact of a plot,
and to implicate several persons of rank and influence in the
suspicion of being concerned in it ; and a proclamation was
immediately issued for the arrest of Lord Clarendon, the
Bishop of Ely, William Penn, and some others.1 Clarendon,
though first cousin to the Queen, was seized and committed
to a dungeon in the Tower ; Ashton and Lord Preston were
tried, found guilty of conspiracy, and condemned to the scaf
fold.2 Elliet knew nothing and was discharged. Ashton
died like a man ; Preston whined and shuffled, pretending to
be innocent himself, but trying to implicate others in the
guilt of conspiracy, or at least to involve them in the sus
picion of being dangerously disaffected.3 Clarendon, through
the good offices of powerful friends, aided by the important
circumstance of his being the Queen's cousin, was ultimately
pardoned and set at liberty on the easy condition of remaining
on parole at his country house.4 The Bishop of Ely and
Penn could not be found, says Burnet ; but this is certainly
false so far as the latter is concerned. No search was made
for him ; he even offered to surrender himself a prisoner, and
wrote to the Secretary of State to ask when and where he
should present himself.5 It seems doubtful whether Ely was
really involved in the treasonable correspondence ; the proofs
1 Burnet, iv. 127. 2 State Trials, xii. 646-822.
3 Dartmouth's Note, Burnet, iv. 154.
4 Rochester's Letters in Life of Burnet, vi. 300. Own Times, iv. 127.
6 Penn to the Earl of Nottington, July 31, 1690, MS. As this letter has
not been published, I transcribe it : " My noble Friend, — As soon as I heard
my name was in the proclamation, I offered to surrender myself with those
regards to a broken health which I owe to myself and my family ; for it is
now six weeks that I have labored under the effects of a surfeit and relapse,
which was long before I knew of this mark of the government's displeasure.
It is not three days ago that I was fitter for a bed than a surrender and a
prison. I shall not take up time about the hardships I am under . . . but
since the government does not think fit to trust me, I shall trust it, and
submit my conveniency to the state's security and satisfaction. And there
fore I humbly beg to know when and where I shall wait upon thee. Thy
faithful friend.— W. Penn."

WILLIAM PENN. 269
of his hand-writing were not very satisfactory ; and still less
was it made clear that the bishop, if he wrote at all, wrote in
the name, and with the sanction, of his prelatical brethren.
But the King was glad of any pretext to> fill up the vacant
bishoprics with his own creatures; and Ely was probably
sacrificed to the exigencies of his home policy, as Penn was
to the French war.1
In the face of a war with France, the royal councillors
were anxious to bring the powers of the great American pro
prietors into more absolute control of the crown. The Stuart
and Tudor kings had given away vast deserts to their credi
tors and favorites ; but these deserts had now grown up into
states, and the new ruler desired a greater concentration of
authority in them as needful for a due prosecution of the
war.2 The colonial charters which had been called in for re
vision towards the close of the late reign, were not restored
without mutilations and amendments. The free charter of
New England was robbed of many of its most liberal clauses ;3
and because the Quaker colonists of Pennsylvania were not
very forward to transfer their allegiance from a prince who
professed religious toleration to one who strenuously insisted
on a continuance of the Test Act, the pretext was seized by
their enemies at court to propose a resumption of the pro
vince.4 Maryland was in a similar state of jeopardy. As a
Catholic, Lord Baltimore was equally out of favor at court
with his rival, — and on account of the delay which occurred
in proclaiming the new sovereign, he too was threatened with
the deprivation of his charter. From this quarter at least —
though his grant had not been made when the King fled5 —
Penn had nothing to fear.. The boundary question still con
tinued to excite disputes in the peninsula of the Delaware ;
but neither party cared to expose the quarrel to the common
enemy at Hampton Court.6 Penn was anxious to go out to
his province ; as he had been now several times arrested on
mere suspicion, he felt that his life, to say nothing of his per
sonal freedom, was no longer safe in England. Spies and in-
1 Comp. Ralph, ii. 260 et seq. with Burnet, iv. 127.
2 Plant. Gen. Papers, May 18, 1689. State Paper Office.
3 Mather, p. 9.
4 Pennsylvania Papers, Oct. 4, 1689; April 10, 1690. State Paper Office.
5 Proprietary Papers, vii. L. 38. State Paper Office.
6 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 182. 23*

270 WILLIAM PENN.
formers abounded on every hand, and no accusation was too
monstrous not to find some who, from hatred or self-interest,
were willing to give it credit. Affairs were also going griev
ously wrong in the province in consequence of his remaining
so long away.1 The war had commenced. New York was
exposed to the incursions of the French, and the people of
New England were burning with the desire to attack and con
quer New France. Meetings were being held in the chief
towns to organize means of defence ; the colonists were calling
on each other for mutual aid ; here money was asked — there
men. The Puritans of New England buckled to their sides
those terrible long swords which their fathers had worn at
Naseby and Marston Moor ; and a warlike ardor which glad
dened the stern and martial soul of William had spread from
Massachusetts to the Carolinas. The Quakers alone remained
calm. In the midst of this martial preparation they declared
that they had no quarrel with the French, and would not
fight. If the French and Indians came against them, they
said they would go out to meet them unarmed, and tell them
so.2 Government was deeply troubled on hearing these things
reported, and saw plainly enough that some extraordinary
measures would need to be adopted for the security of the
colonies in case they continued to maintain this attitude. The
Pennsylvanians would neither defend their own towns, nor pay
any war-contribution to the frontier governments of Albany
and New York. The governor in England took a more prac
tical view of the crisis ; his colony contained others besides
Quakers, — Germans, Dutchmen, Swedes and English, many
of whom were disposed to shoulder a musket and draw the
sword in defence of their homes and families. These men
had no thought of giving up their scalps to the Iroquois, and
their wives to the people of Canada ; and the pacific disposi
tion of the Quaker majority only lent fervor to the instinctive
energy of the young and the unconvinced. A war party was
rapidly gaining ground in the colony.3 Penn felt how neces
sary it was that he should be on the spot to appease these
scruples, and to regulate this growing enthusiasm. England
had no further need of his services ; and his residence there
' Penn to Turner, Oct. 4, 1689.
2 Pennsyl. Papers, Jan. 15, 1690-1. State Paper Office.
3 Correspondence of Col. Fletcher, April and May, New York Papers.
Pennsyl. Papers, July 16 — Oct. 28. State Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 271
had already cost him six thousand pounds — the greater part
of which had been given away in charities, in gaoler's fees,
and in other legal expenses attendant on the liberation of
prisoners.1 The preparations for his departure were hastily
made ; he engaged a vessel to carry him across the Atlantic ;
and the Secretary of State had even appointed a convoy to
protect him from the French cruisers during the voyage,
when he was suddenly called to the death-bed of George Fox,
— whose decease took place on the 13th of January, 1691.2
Over his friend's grave, Penn delivered a long and eloquent
oration. The ceremony was at an end and the crowd had
just dispersed, when a party of officers arrived on the ground
with warrants to arrest the speaker on another charge of trea
son and conspiracy. But he was gone.3
William Fuller, an infamous wretch wbo lived by accusing
persons of distinction of monstrous crimes, to get himself out
of the King's Bench prison, came forward and made oath that
he knew Penn to be engaged in treasonous correspondence
with the enemies of the kingdom, whereupon the warrants
were issued by government for his arrest.4 To have given
himself up to the myrmidons of the law under the circum
stances would have been an act of madness. Fuller was at
the time one of the witnesses against the Queen, Maria d'Este,
and the legitimacy of the young Prince of Wales,5 — and, like
Dangerfield in the day of his unblushing perfidy, he stood
high in the opinion of those to whom he was useful.6 The
governor saw that the only course which he could take con
sistent with his honor and his safety, was to retire awhile from
the public view ; but this home-exile was far from being so
strict a seclusion as has been supposed by Besse and others.
His address was well known to some of the King's council ;
as during the whole of his thirty months' retirement he con
tinued his usual correspondence with his friends at court, par
ticularly with Rochester, Halifax, and Romney.7 As a man
bound by his convictions not to take oaths — and universally
1 Penn to Hugh Roberts, Dec. 6, 1689.
2 Friend's Register. Penn to Lord Rochester. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv.
197. 3 Besse, i. 140. " Pari. Hist. v. 672.
6 See his wretched pamphlets, "A brief Discovery of the true Mother of
the Prince of Wales," &c, 1699, and his "Humble Appeal," 1706.
6 Pari. Hist. v. 672, 3.
7 See the Corresp. in Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 192 et seq.

272 WILLIAM PENN.
known for his humane and forgiving temper, — he was unfor
tunately just the sort of quarry that was desired by the race
of scoundrels and informers with which the country then
swarmed. The villain who should wrong him most deeply
might hope, in his case, to escape the revenges natural to the
wronged ; and some of those about the King's person were
only too ready to entertain any accusation, however absurd,
against a man of his high character. Before the new war
rants for his arrest were issued, a charge had been vamped up
against him in Dublin by the same Fuller, a confederate called
Fisher, and a third scoundrel, whose name has perished. On
hearsay evidence, and contrary to all the usages of law, the
grand jury found a bill against the accused, who had not been
in Ireland for twenty years, and was at that time walking
about the streets of London, where the alleged crime was sup
posed to have been committed I1
Only a few months after this accusation was made on oath,
the character of Fuller was brought by another train of cir
cumstances, under notice of the House of Commons ; when,
after a careful sifting of the evidence in his behalf, it was
resolved that he was a notorious cheat, rogue, and false
accuser, that he had scandalized the magistrates and govern
ment, and abused the House.2 Penn had judged rightly: "I
know my enemies," he said; " their true character and his
tory, and their intrinsic value to this or other governments.
I commit them to time, with my own conduct and afflictions."3
His own afflictions ! They were dark and bitter in these evil
days. Domestic misfortunes, heavier than all else, fell on his
devoted head. His wife Guli sickened with the hourly sense
of her husband's wrongs — and was nigh to death.4
The .House of Commons demanded of the crown officers
that Fuller should be prosecuted in the courts of law ; and,
after a fair trial, he was found guilty of imposture and false
accusation, and sentenced to the pillory. His whole life was
a lie and an abomination. Ten years after this false swearing
against Penn, he again found himself in the toils of an enemy
less gentle ; he was charged at the Guildhall as a libeller,
convicted on clear evidence, and condemned to stand thrice in
the pillory, to pay a thousand marks fine, and to rot in the
house of correction with felons and murderers.5
1 Penn's Letter. Ibid. iv. 199. 2 Com. Jour. Feb. 20.
3 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 200. 4 Coll. Works, i. 231.
6 State Trials, xiv. 518-35. While in the iRory at Charing Cross, and

WILLIAM PENN. 273
Yet, even when the vices of their witness had wholly dis
credited his oath, there were those about King William's
person who could persuade him not to recall the warrants
of arrest. His own avarice and love of power helped him
to see the force of their reasoning; at least while the war
raged with Louis Quatorze, he was anxious to have all the
reins of government in his own hands; and he willingly
listened to the advice of those who pressed him to annul the
colonial charters, and establish one central and imperial seat
of government in America. But to give a colorable pretext
for this illegal act, it was necessary to keep the governor of
Pennsylvania in the shade ; to hold the threat of a prosecu
tion — which, it was well known, could not be maintained ex
cept by perjury — suspended above his head ; so that, when
the conspiracy to defraud him of his right was ready to take
effect, he would be unable to appear and offer an effectual
resistance. To the importunities of Penn's friends, he there
fore answered evasively; he was always engaged; — a manifest
subterfuge, adopted only to gain time.1 It was now that
Locke offered to interpose his good offices to procure for him
a pardon. The offer touched his heart ; for as the common
herd of men had followed him into his retirement with cla
mors and vehement abuse, this tribute to his merits was
peculiarly flattering, coming as it did, at such a moment and
from such a man ; but he rejected the proposal on precisely
the same grounds as the philosopher had done his own appeal
to the clemency of King James. As he had committed no
crime, he would receive no pardon. In his letters to Romney
and Rochester, he appealed, not to the King's mercy, but to
his justice. He desired it to be understood that he would
not receive his liberty on conditions. Though longing most
earnestly to sail for America, he would not go out under the
suspicion that he went as an exile. As his fortunes fell,
his spirit seemed to rise. In the day of his deepest misery,
his words were proud and almost exacting.2
Then came the crash. On the 10th of March, 1692, an
order in council was issued, which deprived him of his govern-
again at Temple Bar, he was much beaten by the mob ; at the Royal Ex
change he was used more leniently. Annals of Queen Anne, i. 53.
1 Penn's Letters to Romney, with the answers endorsed. Penn. Hist. Soc.
Mem. iv. 192-5.
2 Penn to Rochester, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 197.

274 WILLIAM PENN.
ment, and annexed it to that of New York.1 So far as the
King, was concerned, the question seems to have been decided
on purely military grounds. No case was made out against
Penn ; no instance of incapacity or want of faith on his part
was cited. In order to present a bold front to the combined
corps of French and Iroquois, then hovering on the frontiers,
unity of command was judged advisable ; and Colonel Fletcher
was commissioned to govern Pennsylvania until the King's
pleasure was made further known, and to assume the command
of all military forces, militia and regular, in New York, Con
necticut, the Jerseys, Pennsylvania and Delaware.2 Still the
blow was crushing.
On every side were gathering darkness and despair. His
whole fortune had been expended on the colony ; he had main
tained the government out of his private purse, so as not to
burden the infant settlement ; a hundred and twenty thousand
pounds, an enormous sum in those days, did not cover his
losses.3 So long as his English property remained — while his
family stood above mere want — he cared little about these
sacrifices. But poverty had come down upon him suddenly.
His Irish estates had been devastated and ruined by the war ;4
what remained of them was put among the Estates of Out
laws, on the strength of the bill of conspiracy illegally found
against him in Dublin ; and the rents were confiscated to the
crown, though no conviction or sentence of outlawry had been
passed in any competent court of law.5 At home, he had been
hardly less unfortunate ; and his wily stewards, the Fordes,
had contrived, by their legal chicaneries — first, to involve,
and then to obtain for themselves a monstrous claim on, his
property in Kent and Essex.6 From the distinguished posi
tion of governor of a province, he had fallen to that of a pri
vate individual ; ruined in his estate, deprived of his honors,
suspected by the government, the prey of a rapacious lawyer,
and deeply involved in debt. The personal inconvenience,
however, was the least of the evil. Most of all he was alarmed
for his model State. Colonel Fletcher, a mere soldier, coarse,
1 Privy Council Registers, W. R. ii. 346, 7. Privy Council Office.
2 New York Papers, April 2. State Paper Office.
3 Penn to Popple, Oct. 24, 1688.
4 Penn to Turner, Feb. 4, 1693. Letter to Roberts, Dec. 6, 1689.
5 Penn's Letter, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 199.
6 Penn's Statement. MS.

WILLIAM PENN. 275
abrupt, and unlettered, was an entire stranger to the Foun
der's ideas and intentions ; and there was only too much rea
son to fear he would soon overturn that peaceful and popular
constitution which he and Sidney had framed with so much
thought and industry. Penn never doubted but that in the
end he should be able to regain his colony, and continue, under
happier auspices, the great republican experiment ; but he also
saw that the mischief done in a day might require years of
patient government to retrieve. He therefore wrote a letter
to the newly appointed officer, in which he warned him to tread
softly and with caution — as the soil and the government be
longed to him as much as the crown to the King : the charter,
he said, had neither been attacked nor recalled ; in the face
of the law he was still master of his province ; and as he was
an Englishman, he would maintain his right.1
To his friends and to the officers of his government in Phil
adelphia, he wrote, advising them to insist with wisdom and
moderation on the observance of their charters. He told them
to hear patiently, and to obey the crown whenever it spoke
in the voice of the law ; to meet the assertion that the French
and Indians would attack them — not by quoting their own
notions of war and the friendly relations of the Iroquois —
arguments to which the colonel would turn a deaf ear — but
by showing how well their territory was defended by nature,
being equally unassailable by land and sea.2 Fletcher began
his reign by an attempt to abrogate the whole body of the
colonial laws; being himself an ultra-royalist, the laws of
Pennsylvania violated all his notions of propriety. When the
assembly objected to this sweeping measure, he showed them his
commission, under the great seal of England. In reply, they
pointed to their charter, also under the great seal of England ;
and some of those who held- commissions from the proprietor
at once withdrew from the assembly.3 Before he went in
person to Philadelphia, he had written urgently for supplies :
the Quakers returned for answer, that they had nothing to
send him, except their good wishes. Vexed at their obstinacy,
as he thought it, he repaired to the seat of government, and
peremptorily applied for a subsidy.4 The assembly answered
1 Pennsyl. Papers, Dec. 5, 1692. State Paper Office.
2 Extracts from Penn's Corresp. attested by Col. Fletcher, Pennsyl. Papers.
vol. i. State Paper Office. 3 Minutes, i. 360.
4 New York Papers, Feb. 14, April 22, 1693. State Paper Office.

276

WILLIAM PENN.

with a long list of grievances. No terms could be made : they
would not give up a single law to revision. Fletcher felt him
self committed ; and to save his own honor, he proposed to
re-enact the whole code as it then stood ; but the assembly
would not consent. " We are but men who represent the peo
ple," said John White, "and we dare not begin to re-enact
any one of the laws, lest we seem to admit that all the rest
are void." The colonel was in a dilemma. His great object
was to obtain a vote of money ; and the colonists would only
give it on their own conditions. At last he submitted. On
receiving from him a distinct recognition of their legislative
powers, the assembly granted a tax of a penny in the pound,
— stipulating, as a salve to tender consciences, that not a far
thing of it should be dipt in blood. A permanent advantage
remained with the chamber at the close of this dispute : they
had bought the right to originate bills ; and this right they
ever afterwards maintained. Greatly dissatisfied with his own
command, Fletcher wrote a letter to the King, urging, in the
strongest terms, the impossibility of gaining a regular war vote
in Pennsylvania, and praying him to consider the propriety of
forming that colony, New York, the Jerseys, and Connecticut
into one state, with a common assembly, as the only means of
out-voting the Quakers, and compelling them to lend their aid
in the common defence.1 The displeasure of William fell on
the absent governor ; and the Privy Council even ordered the
Attorney-General rigorously to inspect his patent, and see
if some legal flaw could not be found in it which would furnish
a pretext for its withdrawal altogether.2
This alarming proposition was made just at a time when
Penn needed some startling intelligence to rouse him from
the apathy caused by domestic affliction. Guli was dead — the
" one of ten thousand, the wise, chaste, humble, modest, con
stant, industrious and undaunted" daughter of Lady Springett.3
Her sorrows had brought her to a premature grave : — yet she
lived long enough to see the appearance of a turn of fortune
for her husband, and she died in the prospect of his restora
tion to his former rank and influence.
In the later part of the- year 1692, his courtly friends —
1 Ibid. Sept. 15. State Paper Office.
2 Privy Council Register, W. R. iii. 334. Privy Council Office.
3 Penn to Turner, Feb. 27, 1693.

WILLIAM PENN. 277
many of whom he had deeply obliged in his day of power, —
but more especially the Earl of Rochester, Lord Somers, Henry
Sidney and Sir John Trenchard, made a joint effort to put an
end to the shame of seeing a noble character like Penn de
prived of his liberty on pretence of an accusation made by a
fellow whom parliament itself had denounced as a rogue and
false accuser. Ranelagh, Rochester, and Romney went to
the King and laid the whole case before him ; William an
swered freely that Penn was his old acquaintance as well as
theirs ; that he had nothing to say against him ; and that he
was at liberty to go about his affairs just as he pleased. The
lords pressed his majesty to send this gracious message to Sir
John Trenchard, then the principal Secretary of State, and
Romney was selected as its bearer on account of his long inti
macy with Penn. Trenchard was glad to convey these tidings
to his old benefactor ; he spoke with feeling of the unsolicited
kindness he had received from him in the dark times of Mon
mouth and Sidney ; and was pleased to have it in his power
to show]that he was not ungrateful. But Penn was riot content
that the matter should end in this private way. The act of
grace looked like a pardon : — he wanted an acquittal. He
asked his powerful friends to procure for him a public hear
ing ; and in November a council was called at Westminster,
before which he defended his conduct so completely to the
King's satisfaction, that he was absolved from every charge,
past and present.1 " The reparation came too late. Guli was
now too far gone for recovery ; but the thought of her husband
being free once more, with no stain on his name, cheered her
descent into the grave. She died on the twenty-third of the
following February at Hoddesden, and was buried with the
simple rites of the Society to which she belonged at Jordans in
the vicinity of Beaconsfield.2
During her prolonged illness, Penn had turned his attention
to the policy of nations, and given up his leisure to the con
solations of philosophy. Two of his most remarkable works
are owing to these studies : one of these contains detached
summaries of his experiences of men and things, and assumes
the form of a book of maxims on the conduct of life — after
' Penn to Markham, Feb, 4, 1693.
2 Friends' Register. Penn wrote a touching account of her last days. Coll.
Works, i. 140 et seq. 24

278 WILLIAM PENN.
the manner, but not in the spirit, of Rochefoucauld.1 Speak
ing of himself in the preface of this work, he says — he has
now had some time he could call his own, a property he has
ever before been short of, in which he has taken a view of
himself and of the world, observed wherein he has gone wrong
or wasted good effort, — and has reached the conclusion, that
if he had to live his life over again, he could serve God, his
neighbor and himself better than he had done, and have seven
precious years of time to spare, though he was not an old man
yet, and had certainly not been one of the idlest.2 A few
specimens of his maxims will suffice to show the character of
the whole collection. — " We are in pain to make our children
scholars — not men ; to talk rather than to know. This is true
canting." — " They only have a right to censure who have a
heart to help : the rest is cruelty, not justice." — " Love labor:
if thou dost not want it for food, thou wilt for physic." —
" Choose thy clothes with thine own eyes — not with another's ;
neither unshapely nor fantastical ; and for use and decency,
not for pride." — "There can be no friendship where there is
no freedom. — " It can be no honor to maintain what it was
dishonorable to do." — " If thou thinkest twice before thou
speakest, thou wilt speak twice the better for it." — "Passion
is a fever of the mind : it ever leaves us weaker than it found
us." — " To delay justice, is injustice." — " The truest end of
life is, to find the life that never ends." — " To do evil that
good may come of it, is bungling in politics as well as in
morals." Many of his maxims were of a political nature :
the following suggests the fundamental idea of a modern
ministry. " Ministers of State should undertake their posts
at their peril ; if princes wish to over-ride them, let them
show the laws — and resign : if fear, gain, or flattery prevail,
let them answer for it to the law." These doctrines were
regarded as curious novelties in that age !3
His other work was still more original in its form and
character. It was entitled, " An Essay towards the present
and future Peace of Europe,"4 — and in it he developed views
which are now rapidly spreading among educated men, and
out of which the Peace Congresses of Brussels, Frankfort and
i Some fruits of Solitude. Coll. Works, i. 818. 2 Ibid. 819.
3 Collected Works, i. 836.
4 This admirable tract is not included in the folio edition of his works. It
was twice printed in 1693.

WILLIAM PENN. 279
Paris have grown in our own day. In the first place, he in
quired into the polity of nations, — the causes which led to
war, — the conditions necessary to peace. He found the great
aim of statesmanship was to secure peace and order ; and he
demonstrated that these ends were to be obtained more readily
and certainly by justice than by war. But the question oc
curred — How can justice be obtained for nations except by
force ? He reviewed the history of society, and he found that
in the partially organized body-politic of early times individu
als, stood in the place of states ; every man assumed the right
to be a judge in his own cause — every man claimed to be his
own avenger. As society advanced from a ruder to a more
civilized form, the separate individuals made laws and bound
themselves to submit to certain general restrictions, more
especially to give up the old rights of judging and avenging
their own quarrels, in exchange for other rights and privileges
not incompatible with the public good. Why, then, should
not Europeans do for themselves, that which Celts and Teu
tons, Franks and Scandinavians had already done on a smaller
scale? As England had its parliament, France its States-
General, Germany its Diet — each in its sphere over-ruling
private passion and curbing disorder — so he proposed that
Europe should have its Congress. Before this sovereign as
sembly he would have had all disputes between nation and nation
decided, without the vulgar interference of the sword, by the
wisest and justest men, acting as the representatives of every
state : its decisions to be final, and its judgments enforced by
the united power of Europe.1 After laying out the great fea
tures of his scheme, he considered the details and practical
action of such a Congress. He referred to the designs of
Henri Quatre in favor of a general league ; and proved by
the example of the United Provinces that the idea was far
from being visionary, if princes and statesmen would only
take the question up in earnestness of spirit.2 The proposal
attracted much attention at the time, — and it is now interest
ing to the friends of peace and international arbitration, both
as a piece of history and as a comfort to those who refuse to
entertain any opinion which is only of recent origin.3
These works Avere already finished when Guli's death put
an end for a time to his intellectual labors. He was only
.  \  .
1 Peace of Europe, Sec. iv. 2 Ibid. Sec. xi. 3 Besse, i. 141.

280 WILLIAM PENN.
roused from his long torpor of soul by the intelligence from
America that Colonel Fletcher had proposed to the King to
abolish the separate charter of Pennsylvania, and to form one
imperial government out of the whole range of northern colo
nies. This was to destroy at one blow the great purpose of
his existence. The war pressed ; the French were victorious
on the continent ; the governor of New York would not an
swer for his province without a change ; and the King was
thought to be only too willing to grasp at any tolerable plea
for regaining the military powers which his predecessor had
given away so rashly. He believed that if he were only in
America, his presence would reconcile parties now at vari
ance ; and so put an end to these dangerous complaints and
suggestions.1 But he was too poor to pay for an outfit for
his family. Owner of twenty million acres of land, he had
no means of raising a few hundreds of pounds for necessary
expenses ! The Irish estates had ceased for the moment to
yield a shilling of rental ; and his unfaithful stewards, the
Fordes, pretended they could hardly make his English pro
perty cover the cost of his simple household.2 In the depth
of his difficulty and distress, a thought occurred to him : — he
had spent a princely fortune in his colony ; the million or so
of acres already sold had a small quit-rent reserved, — but
which, for the ease of the colonists, he had allowed to stand
over till good harvests came round, so that for /ten years he
had not received a single shilling from this quarter.3 He
would now, he thought, apply to these prosperous settlers in
the land he had made for them, — recently blessed with most
abundant seasons, — for a loan of ten thousand pounds — a
hundred pounds each from a hundred persons. This money
would set him right ; and the quit-rents and the lands of the
colony would be ample security to the lenders. He wrote a
manly and touching letter to Robert Turner, in Which he
opened his heart to his old friend, and made this proposal,
pledging himself, in the event of its success, to set sail imme
diately with a large party of emigrants, who were only wait
ing for the signal of his departure : if the colonists refused
him this kindness, he said, he knew not what he must do, so
very low were his affairs reduced.4 It is an eternal disgrace
1 Penn to Turner, Feb. 4, 1693. 2 Penn's Statement. MS.
3 Penn to Roberts, Feb. 17, 1698. 4 Penn to Turner, Feb. 4, 1693.

WILLIAM PENN. 281
to the settlers that they evaded and postponed this request —
too mean to comply with grace, too cowardly to refuse with
out shuffling and false pretence. The men to whom he had
looked for help — to whom in confidence he had laid bare his
private misfortunes — sought in the fact of his distress an op
portunity to encroach on his just rights, and gossipped about
his fall, to their own shame and the scandal of the country.1
They said they loved him very much — but they had no mind
to lend money.
Penn was not apt to be angry, but this ingratitude was too
much for even his placid nature. These men owed almost
every thing that was most dear to them in the world, to his
devotion, his care and forethought : their freedom — their
rights — in no slight degree their property itself. To his con
fidential friends he complained bitterly of this insulting usage.
A man not inspired with a great design, disgusted with their
conduct, might have been tempted to revoke their charter,
and to sue them in the courts of law for the arrears of quit-
rent. But he thought only of the future, — of the handful of
settlers who were to become a nation ; and he pursued his own
forward course, hurt but not daunted by the ungracious inci
dent. Unable to get out to America, he resolved to fight the
battle to the end at home. Calling on the friends who had
recently done him such service, he prevailed on them to take
his case once more in hand, and, if possible, to procure the
restoration of his colonial government, with the rank and dig
nities attached. In the meantime he drew up a formal peti
tion to the Queen — William being abroad — praying her
majesty to order an inquiry into the whole train of facts
alleged by him to have occurred in reference to the colony,
and if her majesty was satisfied, to grant him a full re-instate-
ment of his rights and properties.2
Mary received this petition with favor. The wise and vir
tuous Lady Ranelagh had prepared the royal mind — by a just
representation of Penn's merits and services — the purity of
his conduct and the unquestionable nature of his rights — for
a candid hearing of his complaint.3 She referred the petition
to the council, who consulted the Board of Trade and the law
1 Fletcher's Correspondence with Government. Pennsylvania Papers, vol.
i. State Paper Office.
2 Pennsylvania Papers, July 5, 1694. State Paper Office.
3 Penn's Memorandum. Penn Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 195.
24*

282 WILLIAM PENN.
officers of the crown, and finding no legal flaw in the charter
itself, nor any subsequent act of his which could be tortured
into such an offence as would warrant a forfeiture, — they
admitted his claim to be made out -,1 and he was legally re
invested with his old powers and functions on giving assur
ances on those points which had led to the original suspen
sion.2 The Lords of Trade and Plantation asserted, — as they
were bound to do in dealing as statesmen with a case so
peculiar and exceptional, — that although the soil and the
government belonged to Penn, as lord proprietor under the
great seal, the King's government, still retaining its imperial
right, was laid under the necessity of defending the province
from its enemies, as part and parcel of the common empire ;
but that so soon as the war was finished in Europe, and the
fear of invasion from Canada had subsided, the government
must, of course, devolve upon the owner of the soil.3 The
war, however, was raging more fiercely than ever ; Marshal
Luxembourg had defeated King William in two great battles,
and had taken the important fortresses of Namur and Mons.
In America, the Five Nations, so long in amity with the
English, had been won over to the Canadian interest, —
numerous farms had been sacked and burnt in Albany, and
the settlers massacred or carried off by the enemy, — and it
was generally feared that the friendly and peaceable Lenni
Lenape" would be compelled to join the great confederacy of
their brethren. In this event, the forests of Pennsylvania
would afford no protection to the unarmed towns and villages
scattered over the country ; and devoted as he was to the
doctrines of peace, Penn saw the folly of maintaining a pas
sive attitude under the tomahawks of the Iroquois. He pro
mised the council, therefore, that as early as it was convenient
he would repair to the colony in person ; and in the meantime
undertook to supply money and men for the general defence
of the frontiers.4 His own cousin Markham was a soldier ;
there were plenty of men in the province who had no scruple
against bearing arms ; and he had little fear of raising the con
tingent that might be fixed by the crown as the proper quota
1 Privy Council Registers,W. R. iii. 444, 5 ; 453, 4,
2 Pennsylvania Papers, July 5. The reports may be compared, July 12,
August 9.
3 Ibid. August 1-3.
4 Privy Council Registers, W. R. iii. 455. Privy Council Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 283
of Pennsylvania. But in case he should meet with a success
ful opposition on this point from the Assembly, he stipulated
that he would then surrender the direction of military affairs
entirely into the King's hands.1
On the ninth of August (1694) — thirty months after the
appointment of Colonel Fletcher — an Order in Council was
made, restoring to him his government, revoking the military
commission, and appointing eighty men and their complete
equipment and charges as the contingent of Pennsylvania, to
be maintained on the frontiers or at New York, so long as the
war continued.2
This restoration was a great solace to him in his grievous
domestic affliction. Not only was Guli dead : dead through
grief and sickness of the heart ; but Springett, his eldest and
favorite son, a youth of delicate frame, but endowed with rare
genius and nobility of mind, was seized with slow and cureless
consumption. In his poverty and exile, the world had frowned
on him, believing his fortunes to be irretrievable ; and if the
settlers in his own colony had behaved most scurvily, they
could plead in their defence the almost universal example of
mankind. To use his own pathetic words — his enemies had
darkened the very air against him. His re-installation was
an emphatic answer to. every calumny. It is curious to find
that the men who stood by him in his darkest hours of trial
were, with some staunch exceptions, not the persons who
shared his religious opinions — but the more distinguished
order of courtiers, statesmen, divines and philosophers — men
like Rochester and Ranelagh, Trenchard and Popple, Tillot
son and Locke. Many of his own sect for a time looked
coldly on his sufferings ; and it does not appear that their in
difference was entirely removed until he was fully restored to
his worldly rank. They had no complaint to make against
his morals or his life : — they only pretended to condemn the
too active part he had taken in the affairs of the world.3
1 Pennsylvania Papers, August 3. State Paper Office.
2 Ibid. August 9. — Privy Council Registers, W. R. ii. 454, 5. Privy Council
Office. 3 Thomas Lowe to Margaret Fox. MS.

284 WILLIAM PENN.

CHAPTER XI.
1694-1701.
THE LAND OF PROMISE.
When Algernon Sidney counselled Penn to leave all power
under his Charter of Liberties in the hands of the people, —
even power to resist the governor and to alter and annul the
Constitution, — he had himself but just returned from a forced
exile, and was still suffering daily from the spite and jealousy
of the court. In the ardor of the moment he overlooked the
fact, that if monarchy be sometimes vindictive, republics are
not the less proverbially ungrateful. As a point of abstract
political science, Sidney was right : democracy must be
developed from within to be true and lasting.1 But neither
of the lawgivers seems to have remembered that, under the
form in which they were about to try the great experiment,
two incompatible powers would be brought into presence, —
probably into conflict. Republican as it appeared, the Charter
had a foreign and irreconcileable element in its own author.
Towards the settlers in his province Penn stood exactly in the
position of a feudal lord : — the soil and the government were
his personal property. Though in his first charter he had
given up many of his rights, enough remained to create strife
and bitterness in men so jealous of power. It was sufficient
that he traced his rights to a source alien to their choice, to
rouse discontent : The colonists had acquired too much
power not to covet more. The -difficulty existed in the very
nature of things. A democracy is a state in which every
thing begins and ends with the people ; but in Pennsylvania
there was a power, — the first and highest, — completely inde
pendent and irresponsible. The ruler had to govern a free
people by hereditary and indefeasible right : how wise and
noble soever his aims might be, the Assembly never forgot
that he was their master ; though he stood between them and
the iron rule at home, they could not respect, and would barely
1 Penn to Sidney, Oct. 13, 1681.

WILLIAM PENN. 285
tolerate his authority. ' From the foundation of the colony
to the last day of his existence, his life was one great strug
gle with the intractable spirit of the settlers. His dues were
withheld — his orders disobeyed — his rights invaded. An
ultra-democratic party arose, which at one time by its impru
dence led him into trouble in the colony — at another, joined
his English enemies in their efforts to procure a forfeiture of
the charter.2 To force alone would they submit. Fletcher's
government was still more galling to them than their pro
prietor's '. yet in his case they passed and paid a war tax. A
salary they would not grant : and the crown was compelled to
allow its servant to appropriate one-half of the war-revenue
for his personal use.3 These facts carry with them no par
ticular stain on any memory : they only prove that feudalism
and democracy, even in their best forms, cannot exist together.
There was no single governor, from first "to last, who could
maintain peace in the colony : — nor did the constitution of
Pennsylvania ever attain to a state of free and harmonious
action until the feudal element was entirely cast away at the
Revolution. With Springett in a decline, Penn was unwilling to go in
person to Philadelphia and leave him behind ; he therefore
sent out a commission to Markham to act as his deputy, with
the express sanction of the home government.4 Not until six
years after the restitution of his rights, did he again set foot
in Pennsylvania. Two of these years he acted as a nurse to
his darling boy ; his almost constant companion by day and
night. Everything that tender nurture, parental watchful
ness and medical science could do for him was done ; but in
spite of all, he grew worse and worse : — and finally died in
his father's arms on the 2d of April, 1696, in the twenty-first
year of his age.5 His other children still living, — Mary and
Hannah having died in infancy, — were Letitia and William ;
the latter, now his heir, and, as it seemed, the future lord
proprietor of Pennsylvania, was utterly unlike his deceased
brother in character and natural abilities.6 Springett Penn
1 Logan Corresp. Phil. Friend, xviii. 345 et seq.
2 Quarry Corresp. in Proprietary Papers, Sept. 10, 1697 et seq. State
Paper Office.
3 Privy Council Register, W. R. 457. Privy Council Office.
4 Proprietary Papers, Nov. 24. — Pennsylvania Papers, Dec. 14. State
Paper Office.
6 Friends' Register. 6 Genealogy in Penn Gaskell MSS.

286 WILLIAM PENN.
had inherited the virtues as well as the names of his joint an
cestry ; to his father's strong sense of political liberty, his
fervor and devotion to a great cause, he added the grace and
gentleness of his mother and grandmother. Of all the young
people about her in her old age, he had been the favorite of
Lady Springett ; and it was for his use and instruction that
she had committed the memoirs of her early life to writing.1
The younger brother more resembled his grandfather the ad
miral : he was bold and self-willed as a boy ; quick in quar
rel ; full of pride and worldly ambition ; sensuous in his tastes
and scornful in his demeanor. Yet he had fine qualities : —
he was generous even to a fault, — had a keen sense of honor,
— had a turn and a capacity for business, — and that daunt
less courage which seemed to be the birthright of his race.2
From an early period he had shown his distaste to the simple
routine of his father's house : and he sought in the world the
illicit pleasures which were denied to him at home. It was
with the most anxious foreboding that Penn looked forward
to the day when he must, in the course of nature, give up the
government of his colony to this rash and inconstant youth.
Perhaps his anxieties on this head influenced him to a se
cond marriage. Hannah, daughter of Thomas Callowhill of
Bristol, a lady whom he had long known and respected, was
the object of his second choice ; and they were married in
that city in January 1696.3 She was a woman of extraordi
nary spirit, and made an admirable manager and wife. They
had issue four sons — Dennis, Richard, Thomas, and John —
and two daughters — Margaret and Hannah, the latter of
whom died in infancy. It is from the Thomas Penn here
mentioned that the present representatives of the male branch
of the family are descended.4
With the peace of Ryswich the war ceased in America.
As there was now no pressing necessity for his voyage to
Pennsylvania, Colonel Markham discharging his function of
lieutenant-governor with vigor, wisdom, and success, — Penn
continued to live quietly in England, varying the ordinary
routine of life by a series of religious tours, and by writing
various works of controversy.5 His daughter Letty was now
1 MS. Autobiography of Lady Springett.
2 Logan Corresp. Phil. Friend, xviii. 354-363.
" Roger Haydock, 215. 4 Penn Gaskill MSS.
6 The most notable of these were : — 1. "A Brief Account of the Rise and

WILLIAM PENN. 287
growing up to womanhood, and she, as well as his wife, had
a disinclination to remove permanently, as he had always in
tended, to their forest-home on the Delaware. The advices
which came with every post from the seat of government were
not of a nature to overcome these female objections. Colonel
Quarry, a revenue officer, sent to America by the crown, and
a zealous party to the idea of turning the proprietarial into
imperial colonies, found out and courted every person of in
fluence in the colony who fancied he had a grievance ; and of
the information procured from these sources he made the most
adroit and malicious use in his correspondence with the home
ministry.1 He kept up intimate relations with the leaders of
the opposition, and by his office and his experience gave co
hesion and importance to the floating masses of discontent.
Their attacks were in reality meant for and made on the go
vernor and his rights ; but they did not dare to accuse him
directly. His lieutenant was fairer game ; and against Mark
ham they revived old charges, and invented new, until the
Lords Commissioners of Trade and Plantations were as
heartily tired of their complaints as Penn himself was of an
swering them. Quarry's chief reliance lay in his official
reports, in which he boldly charged Markham with favoring
smugglers and pirates, to the manifest injury of the royal
revenue. The lieutenant-governor defended himself against
these charges with spirit and success ; at least his explana
tions were for a long time admitted. This war of accusations
continued two years.2
During this interval, Penn became acquainted with the
young Czar, Peter of Russia, then working in the dockyard
at Deptford as a carpenter and ship-builder. With that pas
sion for converting the great which had led their brethren to
Rome, to Adrianople, and to Versailles, in search of royal
proselytes, Thomas Story and another friend, hearing that
the ruler of Muscovy could be easily approached, went to him
Progress of the People called Quakers," 1694; 2. "A Visitation to the
Jews," 1694; 3. "A Few Words to the House of Commons," 1695; 4.
" The Truth of God Cleared," 1698 ; 5. " Primitive Christianity Revived,"
1696. 1 Proprietary Papers, Sept. 10, et seq. The Quarry Corresp. is of con
siderable interest for the early history of the colonies : American writers
have little acquaintance with the treasures of our State Paper Office.
2 Proprietary Papers, Sept. 10, 1697— Sept.. 12, 1699. State Paper Of
fice. The latter part is particularly voluminous and violent.

288 WILLIAM PENN.
for the purpose of delivering what they believed to be the
new gopsel. They found to their surprise that the Czar
could speak no Latin ; and as they were ignorant of German,
it was impossible to converse without the aid of an interpre
ter. Peter was interested though not much edified by their
discourse; but the Friends were greatly charmed with their
reception, and immediately reported to Penn, who spoke Ger
man with great fluency, that a new field was opening in the
imperial mind for the spread of truth. On this hint Penn
went down to York Buildings, where the Czar resided when
not at the docks, with Prince Menzikoff, and there saw the
object of his visit.1 As a man who had lived in courts and
seen the world, — as the son also of the renowned admiral, —
Penn got on much better with the young and sagacious prince
than the simple-hearted Story. With the practical turn of
mind which distinguished him through life, Peter had at once
gone, to what appeared to him, the heart of the matter. You
say you are a new people, — will you fight better than the
rest ? Story had told him they could not bear arms against
their neighbor. Then tell me, said Peter, of what use you
would be to any kingdpm, if you will not fight ? The fact of
their wearing their hats in his presence rather amused than
offended him; but he could not be made to comprehend the
reason for it. Eager for knowledge of every kind, he listened
with courtesy and interest to the discourses of Penn ; he
wished, he said, to learn in a few words what the Quakers
taught and practised, that he might be able to distinguish
them readily from other men ; whereupon his visitor wrote —
" They teach that men must be holy, or they cannot be happy
— that they should be few in words, peaceable in life, suffer
wrongs, love enemies, deny themselves — without which faith
is false, worship formality, and religion hypocrisy."2 Peter
was not converted, but he was interested ; as he knew a little
English he began to attend occasionally at the meetings of
Friends at Deptford, where he behaved very politely and so
cially, standing up or sitting down as it suited the convenience
and comfort of others. Some of the Quaker preachers evi
dently regarded their imperial listener as a convert to the
faith : they were probably not aware that, as an acute ob-
' Penn to the Czar, Phil. Friend, vii. 45.
2 Ibid. vii. 45.

WILLIAM PENN. 289
server of human manners, it was his humor to attend the
religious services of all sects and denominations.1
The complaints which were continually arriving from Colo
nel Quarry, and the rising discontents in the colony fomented
by his malice, kept Penn in a state of unceasing agitation and
alarm. One charge against his cousin and lieutenant was not
cleared away before another was started ; so that his enemies
in the royal council had almost daily opportunities of poison
ing the King's mind on that sorest of all subjects — the reve
nue.2 The governor felt an unlimited confidence in the faith
and purity of Markham, a confidence which is fully justified
by the facts of his administration as they are recorded in the
state papers ;3 but at the same time he saw that a necessity
was arising for his own presence in Philadelphia, and he pru
dently began to make preparations for the voyage. His
English lawyer had got his estates into the utmost confusion,
— in all probability with a view to making his own fortune
out of the general wreck, as in later years his employer had
not paid that attention to his private business which the ad
miral had believed would turn out to be a chief feature in his
character;4 and the Shangarry Castle property had not yet
recovered from the infliction of the wars. Nearly thirty
years had now passed since he had held any communication
with his Irish tenantry ; a desire to look on the old scenes in
which a great portion of his youth had been spent, grew up
in his mind, as well as a wish to superintend the re-settlement
of his property — Shangarry Castle being now his chief sup
port ; and hearing that Thomas Story and John Everott were
going into the island on a religious tour, he proposed to join
them, and they set out together from Bristol, where he was
then residing, that being the usual port from which passen
gers at that time started for Dublin.5 In the Irish capital he
attended the half-yearly meeting of Friends ; and called on
the Lords Justices of Ireland, to whom he was well known, to
encourage in their minds a friendly disposition towards his
1 Story's Journal, 126, 494.
2 Proprietary Papers, September 22 — Oct. 8-15 et seq. State Paper
Office. 3 His answer to the accusations of Col. Quarry and Mr. Randolph, pre
sented to the Lords of Trade and Plantations, is masterly and convincing. — .
America and West Indies Papers, March 1, 1700 (45 folios). State Paper
Office. 4 Penn's Statement, MS. 6 Besse, i. 144.
25

290 WILLIAM PENN.
religious brethren. An incident occurred on his journey
from Dublin to Shangarry Castle, in County Cork, character
istic of the man and the times. When at Wexford he gave a
promise to some friends of Waterford that he would attend a
meeting in their town on a certain evening,- and address the
people ; and on the day appointed he arrived at Ross, on his
way to Waterford, about the time of dinner. Ordering their
horses to be ferried across the Nore while they were dining,
the travellers returned to the tavern, and refreshed them
selves after their long ride.1
After the thorough subjugation of Ireland by William and
his generals, the Parliament of that divided country, anxious
to insult and exasperate the conquered Catholics, had passed
a bill, by which Papists were forbidden to keep any horse or
horses in their possession, except the very sorriest sort of
hacks. To make the act still more galling, a clause was in
serted, allowing any man to seize a horse belonging to a Ca
tholic, or on which a Catholic at the time might be riding,
and to retain it on condition of tendering five guineas for it
to the nearest magistrate. The poor Papist was interrupted
in his journeys and his business — for all travelling was then
done on horseback — insulted in the streets by having the value
of his nag questioned, and oftentimes by being made to dis
mount in public, and go before a magistrate. Military men
more especially took advantage of this infamous law, to fill
their stables with good horses at a small cost. As Penn and
his friends rode into the town on their high bloods, two young
officers of Colonel Eclin's regiment — Lieutenant Wallis and
Cornet Montgomery — thought proper to imagine that the
strangers were Papists, and their horses lawful game ; so,
while the unsuspecting travellers were dining, these fellows
went to the mayor, and on deposing that there were then in
Ross certain Papists with valuable horses in their possession,
contrary to the clauses, of the late act, obtained a warrant for
their arrest.2 When Penn went down to the boat, he found
some of the horses had been carried over before the seizure ;
but the rest were in the hands of a picquet of dragoons. Sup
posing that a few words of explanation would set the matter
right, he proposed to cross over and continue his journey to
Waterford with the horses already on the other side, — return-
1 Story's Journal, 132. 2 Ibid.

WILLIAM PENN. 291
ing after the meeting to recover his property. But on the
boat being drawn along the water-edge, half a dozen dragoons
leapt into it, and pushed away. Some officers and other per
sons were standing on the quay, watching this unmannerly
exhibition ; and to them Penn applied — not being aware of
the part they had taken in the transaction — to reprove the
men under their command ; but they of course would not in
terfere. "What !" said Penn, with scorn, "are you gentlemen
and officers, and will you stand here and see such insolence
in your open view?" He hired another boat, and continued
his journey, leaving his friends behind to recover the horses
by taking out a replevin ; and as soon as he had time, he
wrote to the Lords Justices, to complain of the abuse, — and
the guilty officers were put under arrest. Their spirit was as
mean as their behavior. Fearing, on- good grounds, that
they would be broke at trial, they made a pitiful appeal to
Penn, through his friend, Colonel Pursel, governor of Water
ford ; and he, seeing that their requests were made under a
proper sense of the wrong they had done, wrote again to the
Lord Justices, to solicit pardons for them on account of their
want of age and experience.1
While residing at Shangarry Castle — which he had reco
vered from the list of Outlawed Estates — he saw and con
versed frequently with the amiable and learned Bishop of
Cork on religious and theological subjects, which afterwards
led to a little friendly controversy in print. Some of the more
violent sectaries, indulging in the old habit of abuse, continued
to repeat calumnies and make false representations as to what
the Quakers believed; and to meet and dissipate these re
ports, Penn put forth, with his name, two or three short papers,2
copies of which he communicated to the Bishop, who received
them very graciously at the time, but, on further thought, saw
reason to doubt some of the gospel truths set forth in them
and published his own opinions. The writer of course again
defended his former tracts, and there the matter ended very
amicably : he was a trenchant opponent to the rude, but with
the courteous he could be courtliness itself.3
The outcry against Colonel Markham and the magistrates
of Pennsylvania swelled louder and louder. Markham was a
1 Story's Journal, 132.
2 "The Quaker a Christian," "Gospel Truths," and the eighth and ninth
chapters of his "Primitive Christianity Revived." Besse, i. 144.
3 Besse, i. 145.

292

WILLIAM PENN.

prompt and a proud officer: in his hands the dignity of the
government certainly' suffered no diminution. But did he
encourage contraband traders ? Stript of all their malice,
the State Papers still contain evidence which would satisfy
most juries that he did ; and it is certain that he behaved
harshly and imprudently to those whom he believed to be en
gaged in a malicious conspiracy against his own honor and
his employer's interest. He refused to pass the Jamaica Act
against pirates or smugglers, although he had received it di
rectly from Whitehall, with a request from the Board of Trade
that it should be made law.1 Randolph, one of the commis
sioners appointed for the crown, he cast into prison for inso
lence and outrage ;2 and, finally, he allowed David Loyd, the
attorney-general for the colony, to use some expressions in
open court, which were considered as an insult to the King's
person and government.3 Quarry made the utmost of these
imprudent acts. Penn's agents, he said, entered the King's
store-houses by force, and carried away the goods which had
been lawfully seized from the pirates ; they protected the
smugglers who came into the Delaware with merchandise from
New York and elsewhere ; they endeavored to ruin the admi
ralty officers ; and even threatened their lives. A pirate ves
sel, he said, had appeared in the river, but Colonel Markham
would not lend assistance to capture it ; and such of the
pirates as" were taken prisoners were merely confined in a
tavern, the Quakers not being willing to send them to the gaol.5
To put an end to these disorders, the council made an order,
depriving Colonel Markham of the powers which he had
wielded for five years very much to his relative's satisfaction,
and with no greater violence to the King's interests than
every public officer in America held himself free to commit.5
Intelligence which he had previously obtained — his friend
Popple became secretary to the Lords of Trade — had pre
pared Penn to expect this measure ; and he had prudently
signified to the council his own intention of starting for Phi
ladelphia in a few weeks. On the same day, therefore, in
which Markham was deposed, another Order in Council was
made, approving of certain suggestions from the Board of
1 Plant. Gen. Papers, August 25, 1698. State Paper Office.
2 Proprietary Papers, August 8, 9. State Paper Office.
3 Ibid. December 1— March 1, 1699. State Paper Office. 4 Ibid. June 6.
6 Proprietary Papers, August 81. State Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 293
Trade, and recommending them to Penn's attention.1 Hoping
to remain in America for some years, if not for the remainder
of his life, he prepared to take his wife and family — with the
exception of his son William, who would not hear of going —
and all the domestic and personal conveniences desirable in a
new country and a permanent home.2
Embarking at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, they sailed on
the 9th of- September, to encounter the tedium of a three
months' voyage. About the time they left England, the yel
low fever broke out in Philadelphia, and carried off great
numbers of the people ; but, when they arrived, its virulence
had considerably abated, and no evil arose to the family from
the prevalence of this dreadful contagion.3 Being Sunday
morning when the vessel reached Philadelphia, Penn went
first of all to visit his cousin — a proper attention under the
circumstances in which he was involved by the jealousy of his
enemies — and then repaired to the meeting-house to see and
address the inhabitants.4 His reception was most enthusiastic.
The people in general had long mourned over his absence,
says Thomas Loyd, one of the ex-deputies ; and now believ
ing that he would never leave them again to become the dupes
of faction and the prey of designing men, they were filled
with joy and thanksgiving..5
Special instructions were sent out by the council for his
guidance in what related to the vexed questions of piracy and
the imperial revenue ; and his first public act on assuming the
reins of government was to send forth a severe proclamation
against pirates and contraband traders.6 But not content with
proclaiming, he informed his officers and council that, as they
were anxious to preserve his rights and their own honor, they
must use every endeavor to put down this illegal traffic. He
placed himself in friendly communication with Colonel Quarry
1 Proprietary Papers, August 31 and September 12. State Paper Office.
2 Besse, i. 145.
3 Story was in Philadelphia at the time, and has left a vivid description of
its effects in his Journal. "Great was the fear that fell upon all flesh. I
saw no lofty nor airy countenance, nor heard any vain jesting to move men
to laughter, nor witty repartee to raise mirth, nor extravagant feasting to
excite the lusts and desires of the flesh ; but every face gathered paleness,
and many hearts were humbled, and countenances fallen, as of those who
waited every moment to be summoned to the grave."
4 Hazard's Register, 4. 92. * Watson's Annals, 24.
6 America and West Indies Papers, Dec. 23, 1699. State Paper Office.
25*

294 WILLIAM PENN.
— who had received from the Admiralty an order to pay great
respect to the person of the governor1 — and discussed with
him the wisest course of proceeding, with a view to re-estab
lish harmony and activity between the two services. The
revenue agent was molified by this courtesy and entered
readily into the governor's plans. No more complaints were
sent to London; and in less than three months from the
landing in the Delaware, Quary had become a firm friend to
the colony. The change was marvellous. In his letters to the
Lords of Trade and Plantations, he reported that Penn's
arrival had completely changed the state of affairs, that
offending officers had been displaced, . that the pirates were
being pursued with vigor, and that two acts had been passed
which would meet the evils complained of for the future.2
Anxious to put an end to the dispute as early as possible,
Penn called the members of his council and the general
assembly together some weeks before the usual time of meet
ing. As yet there was no law in Pennsylvania against piracy ;
and when the Quakers had formerly refused to commit pirates
to the common gaol, they could, quote their code of laws in
justification of their refusal. This evil was the first to be
met. The weather was bitterly cold ; it was impossible to
transact the ordinary business of the session ; and as soon as
they had passed two enactments, one against pirates and one
against contraband trade, which they did on the governor's
most energetic remonstrance — but as it would seem some
what reluctantly, — he dismissed them for the remainder of the
winter..3 Now that he was legally armed against them, the
task of putting down the pirates was rendered much more
easy of accomplishment. By the end of February, he was
able to lay before Secretary Vernon and the Board of Trade
a statement of his doings in behalf of the crown interests ;4
and in due time received from Whitehall an assurance that his
conduct was highly satisfactory to the government.5
These critical affairs got into a train for amendment, Penn
had leisure to settle his family at Pennsbury, his country
mansion, near the Falls of Trenton on the Delaware. As
this was the chief place of his residence while in the colony,
1 Plant. Gen. Papers, Sept. 12, State Paper Office.
2 Proprietary Papers, March 6, 1700. State Paper Office.
3 America and West Indies Pape s, Feb. 26, 1700. State Paper Office.
4 Proprietary Papers, Feb. 27. State Paper Office. 5 Ibid. Aug. 23.

WILLIAM PENN. 295
and had always been designed as his ultimate home, some
account of the estate and of his daily ways of life as they
can now be recovered from old letters, anecdotes, and tradi
tions, will not be uninteresting to the reader of his memoirs.
The estate of Pennsbury was an ancient Indian royalty.
It had been chosen as the abode of chieftains for the peculiar
character of its situation : affluents from the great river bend
ing no less than three several times round it, so as, in the
ruder ages of warfare, to constitute an almost impregnable
natural defence. When the estate was first laid out by Mark
ham, it consisted of 8431 acres ; but a large portion of the
ground was left in its forest state as a park for the governor,
and he from time to time reduced its dimensions by a series of
grants to different individuals.1 In this noble island his agents
had begun to build, even before his first arrival in the country,
a mansion worthy of the governor of a great province ; and
during his absence in England it had been completed. The
front of the house, sixty feet long, faced the Delaware, and
the upper windows commanded a magnificent view of the
river and of the opposite shores of New Jersey. The depth
of the manor house was forty feet, and on each of the wings
the various outhouses were so disposed as to produce an agree
able and picturesque effect.2 The brew-house, a large wooden
building covered with shingles, — Penn was not unused to the
good old Saxon drink, — was at the back, some little distance
from the mansion, and concealed among the trees.3 The house
itself stood on a gentle eminence ; it was two stories high, and
was built of fine brick and covered with tiles.4 The entrance
led by a large and handsome porch and stone steps into a
spacious hall, extending nearly the whole length of the house,
which was used on public occasions for the entertainment of
distinguished guests and the reception of the Indian tribes.
The rooms were arranged in suites, with ample folding doors,
and were all wainscoted with English oak.5 A simple but
correct taste was observable throughout; the interior orna
ments were chaste, and the oaken capital at the porch was
appropriately decorated with the carving of a vine and clusters
of grapes. The more elaborate of these decorations had been
sent from England by the governor.6 The gardens were the
1 Sherman Day's Historical Collections, 153.
5 Ibid. 154. » Watson, 67.
4 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 112; and ditto iii. Pt. ii. 94.
" Ibid. 6 Watson, 16, and note.

296

WILLIAM PENN.

wonder of the colony for their extent and beauty. A country
house, with an ample garden, was the governor's passion ; and
he spared neither care nor money to make the grounds of
Pennsbury a little Eden. He procured in England and from
Scotland the most skillful gardeners he could find. In one of
his letters he speaks of his good fortune in having met with
"a rare artist" in this line, who is to have three men under
him; and if he cannot agree with Ralph, the old gardener,
they are to divide the grounds between them, Ralph taking
the upper gardens and the court-yards, the rare artist having
charge of all the lower grounds ; and he gives ample instruc
tions as to every detail of their proceedings.1 Lawns, shrub
beries and flower-beds surrounded the manor on every side.
A broad walk, lined with majestic poplars, led to the river
brink, a flight of stone steps forming the descent from the
higher terrace to the lower. The woods in the vicinity were
laid out with walks and drives ; the old forest trees were care
fully preserved ; the most beautiful wild flowers found in the
country were transplanted to his gardens ; trees and shrubs
not indigenous to the soil were imported from Maryland ;
while walnuts, hawthorns, hazels, and various kinds of fruit-
trees, seeds, and roots, were sent for to England.2
The furnishing of Pennsbury was to match. Mahogany
was a luxury then unknown ; but his spider tables and high-
backed carved chairs were of the finest oak. An "inventory
of the furniture is still extant ;3 there were a set of Turkey
worked chairs, arm-chairs for ease, and couches with plush
and satin cushions for luxury and beauty. In the parlor
stood the great leather chair of the proprietor ; in every room
were found cushions and curtains of satin, camlet, damask,
and striped linen ; and there is a carpet mentioned as being
in one apartment, though at that period such an article was
hardly ever seen except in the palaces of Kings.4 His side
board furniture was also that of a gentleman ; it included a
service of silver, — plain but massive, — blue and white china,
a complete set of Tonbridge ware, and a great quantity of
damask table-clothes and fine napkins.5 The table was served
as became his rank, plainly but plentifully. Ann Nichols was
' Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 94. An admirable paper on the do
mestic life of Penn, gathered from his cash books and business letters by
Francis Fisher.
2 Ibid. 95. 3 Ibid. 85. • Ibid. 86. 6 Ibid. 85.

WILLIAM PENN. 297
his cook ; and he used to observe' in his pleasantry — " Ah,
the book of cookery has outgrown the Bible, and I" fear is
read oftener — to be sure it is of more use." — But he was no
favorer of excess, because, as he said, " it destroys hospitality
and wrongs the poor." The French cuisine, then in great
vogue, was a subject of his frequent ridicule. — " The sauce is
now prepared before the meat," says he, in his maxims,
" twelve penny worth of flesh with five shillings of cookery
may happen to make a fashionable dish. Plain beef and mut
ton is become dull food ; but by the time its natural relish is
lost in the crowd of cook's ingredients, and the meat suffici
ently disguised from the eaters, it passes under a French
name for a rare dish." His cellars were well stocked; Canary,
claret, sack, and Madeira being the favorite wines consumed
by his family and their guests.1 Besides these nobler drinks
there was a plentiful supply, on all occasions of Indian or
general festivity, of ale and cider. Penn's own wine seems
to have been Madeira f and he certainly had nO dislike to the
temperate pleasures of the table. In one of his letters to his
steward, Sotcher, he writes — "Pray send us some two or
three smoked haunches of venison and pork — get them from
the Swedes; also some smoked shads and beefs," adding with
delicious unction, — " the old priest at Philadelphia had rare

For travelling, the family had a large coach, but in conse
quence of the badness of the roads, even those between
Pennsbury and Philadelphia, it was seldom used, — a calesh
in which they chiefly drove about, — and a sedan chair in
which Hannah and Letty went a shopping in the city, or to
pay visits of ceremony to their female acquaintance in the
near neighborhood. The governor himself went about the
country on horseback, and from one settlement to another in
his yacht. He retained the passion for boating, which he had
acquired at Oxford,4 to the last ; and that love of fine horses
which the Englishman shares with the Arab did not forsake
him in the New World. At his first visit to America he car
ried over three blood mares, a fine white horse not of full
breed, and other inferior animals, not for breeding but for
1 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 84. Hannah Penn to Logan. Phil.
Friend, xviii. 353.
2 Penn to Logan, Sept. 14, 1705.
3 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Pt. ii. 84. * Wood's Oxon. art. Penn.

298 WILLIAM PENN,
labor. His inquiries about the mares were as frequent and
minute as those about the gardens ; and when he went out
for the second time, in 1699, he took with him the magnificent
colt Tamerlane, by the celebrated Godolphin Barb, to which
the best horses in England trace their pedigree.1 Yet Tamer
lane himself could not win his master's affections from his
yacht, a fine vessel of six oars, with a regular crew, who re
ceived their wages as such — and well deserved them while the
governor was in the country. In giving some directions about
his house and effects after his return to England, he writes of
this yacht — " but above all dead things, I hope nobody uses
her on any account, and that she is kept in a dry dock, or at
least covered from the weather."2
The dress and habits of the Penns at Pennsbury had as little
of the sourness and formality which have been ascribed to the
early followers of George Fox as the mansion and its furnish
ings. There was nothing to mark them as different to most
well-bred families of high rank in England and America at
the present day. Pennsbury was renowned throughout the
country for its judicious hospitalities. The ladies dressed like
gentle-women, — wore caps and buckles, silk gowns and golden
ornaments.3 Penn had no less than four wigs in America, all
purchased in the same year, at a cost of nearly twenty pounds.4
To innocent dances and country fairs he not only made no
objection, but countenanced them by his own and his family's
presence.5 His participation in the sports of the aborigines
has been referred to already. Those gentler charities which
had distinguished him in England continued to distinguish
him in Pennsylvania ; he released the poor debtor from prison,
— he supported out of his private purse the sick and the des
titute, — many of the aged who were beyond labor and without
friends were regular pensioners on his bounty to the extent
of six shillings a fortnight, — and there were numereus persons
about him whom he had rescued from distress in England,
1 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part. ii. 78.
2 Ibid. 79. 3 Ibid. 74, note.
4 This in spite of John Mulliner, a Friend who wrote against perukes.
Watson, 178. Penn set the fashion in America ; and it became usual for
" genteel " Friends to wear wigs and buckles. Ibid.
5 The cash-books contain such items as these: "By my mistress at the fair
21. Os. 8d. ; by expenses given to Hannah Carpenter as a fairing, 8s. ; by do.
to two children for comfits, by order, Is. 6d. ; by the governor going to a can-
tico, 11. 18s. id." Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 80.

WILLIAM PENN. 299
and whom he supported wholly or in part until their own in
dustry made them independent of his assistance. Some of the
best pages of his history were written in his private cash-
books.1 In April the Assembly met for the ordinary session. There
had been already many changes introduced into the constitu
tion ; and it was well known that a large part, perhaps a ma
jority, of the new parliament, would be favorable to a fresh re
vision. The Holy Experiment was proceeding with more pas
sion and more grasping restlessness on the popular side than its
author had_expected ; but still he would not admit even to him
self that he felt discouraged. The representatives assumed the
right to bring in bills, — they attempted to re-organize the judi
cial system, — they refused to vote any taxes, — they claimed a
right to inspect the records of government, — they wished to
displace the officers of the courts at their own will, — and they
expelled a member of the House for simply reminding them
that in making such claims as these they were violating the
provisions of their charter.2 Like all new legislators, they
betrayed a want of prudence which might have been fatal to
their own liberties had any other than a republican enthusiast
been their lord proprietor. Penn bore with their petulance
and ingratitude from motives higher and further reaching than
most of the rude colonists could understand : whatever conse
quences might result to himself, he was resolved to realize the
dream of his youth, — to lay a foundation for that Holy Empire,
the thoughts of which had cheered him in his darkest hours.
When the Assembly met in Philadelphia, he addressed them
in calm, conciliatory, and encouraging terms : — he began by
reminding them that though they were only nineteen years
old as a colony, they were already equal in numbers and pros
perity to their neighbors of twice and thrice that standing ;
they had a good constitution though it was not perfect ; the
growth of the province had been so extraordinary that while
some of the laws were already obsolete, others were found to
be hurtful ; these must be looked to cautiously. If they wished
to have the charter amended, he said he was willing ; he only
asked them to lay aside all party feeling, and to do that which
was best for all, confident that in the end it would be best for
1 Penn, Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 87.
2 Votes and Proceedings, 32 et seq.

300 WILLIAM PENN.
each. So far as regarded himself, he would simply throw out
one hint ; — for nineteen years he had now maintained the
whole charge of government out of his private purse. He
placed himself in their hands, and hoped he should never be
compelled to leave them again.1
With very unceremonious eagerness, the Assembly was
urged by one of the ultras to take the governor at his word ;
and, as they were now about to commence a new career, to
start on a good foundation — in other words, with a new con
stitution. The proprietor said it was not his desire that they
should abolish their present charter: yet if they thought it
best for their own good, he would consent. They at once voted
it desirable to have a new constitution, rather than attempt to
mend the old one. No progress, however, was made in the
work during that session.2 The other business was of a more
local nature, relating to land, revenue, trade, property, and so
forth. One topic only needs any reference in this place. When
Penn landed in America, negro slaves were already on the
soil. Hawkins had the merit of first engaging England in the
African slave-trade ; but it is fair to his memory to state that
his royal mistress, Elizabeth, not only approved of his barba
rous and marauding expeditions, but actually joined him as
an adventurer in the traffic.3 No suspicion that this trade in
human beings was infamous and damnable ever seems to have
crossed the mind of courtier or soldier. In all the maritime
and commercial countries of Europe, slavery was an ancient
institution. The cities of Portugal, Italy and Spain were
dotted with the dusky forms of negro and Moorish slaves ; in
every great househould in the south the sable skin was regarded
as an essential part of the furniture. The best and most reli
gious men of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries accepted
the existing facts of society without a protest. Columbus in
troduced the negro into America ; Cromwell did not hesitate
to sell his own countrymen into bondage; Locke expressly
provided a place for slaves in his constitution, and forbade them
even to aspire to a free condition. Such was the state of opinion
in Europe when Penn's attention was first practically turned
to the subject ; nearly a century after that period the idea was
1 The speech is preserved in Hazard's Register, vii. 111.
* Hazard's Register, vii. Ill, 112.
3 Camden, 158. Hackluyt, ii. 351-2 ; iii. 594.

WILLIAM PENN. 301
still general in England that the capture and sale of Africans
was a legitimate branch of trade, and with the blood of the
black man our merchants in a great measure built up the re
nown of our most celebrated commercial cities, Bristol and
Liverpool. By a special stipulation in the Treaty of Utrecht,
our sovereign lady Queen Ann became for a time the largest
slave-merchant in the world.1
It is no demerit in Penn that he did not at once see the
evil, and resolutely oppose a system which Locke approved,
and his countrymen generally practised or applauded. Yet
from the first he would seem to have had doubts and misgiv
ings. While acting under the counsels of Sidney, he had pro
vided that, if the Society of Traders should receive negroes as
servants, they must at least set them partially free after four
teen years' service— that is, make them adscripts of the soil,
the Society giving to each man a piece of land, with the ne
cessary implements for its cultivation, and receiving in return
two-thirds of the entire produce : if the negroes themselves
refused these terms, they were to continue slaves.2 Many years
after this he spoke of slavery as a matter of course;3 and
though he refrained from the actual purchase of negroes, so
as in strict fact never to_ become a slave-owner, yet he con
stantly hired them from their masters, and they formed a
regular part of the establishment at Pennsbury.4 But his
mind was not at rest on their account ; and his less sophisti
cated followers from the Upper Rhine had already started the
novel doctrine that it was not Christian-like to buy and keep
negroes. Coming from an inland and agricultural country,
where the luxury and license of commercial cities were un
known, the fact of good men buying and selling human beings,
— owning men with immortal spirits, — men who in a few years,
according to their own avowed belief, would become not only
their own equals, but the glorious peers of angels, and arch
angels, — struck them as something monstrous and incredible.
They appealed in their concern to the Society of Friends, —
but the Friends as a body declined to pronounce an opinion
on the subject.5 Still, having been started, it came up again
' Bolingbroke (Cooke's ed.), i. 175. 2 Watson, 480.'
3 Penn to Harrison, Oct. 4, 1685.
4 App. to Fisher, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 103. A note will be
found on this subject in the following chapter.
s Watson, 480. 26

302 WILLIAM PENN.
and again at their meetings. When Penn arrived the second
time in America, there were many who doubted the lawfulness
of retaining slaves ; yet, on looking at the matter calmly, he
felt certain that between the two races there existed an intel
lectual inequality which no act of Assembly could remove,
and which must of necessity preclude social equality, until by
process of education and lapse of time the Negro had been
raised in the scale of being, and the Caucasian reconciled to
his presence. With this conviction he began to work : — first
he tried to get his own religious body practically to recognize
the fact that a black man has a soul, by taking some little
care for it ; whereupon a separate monthly meeting for negroes
was established.1 Next he looked at their moral condition, —
and found them living in the grossest ignorance, and in their
homes very much like brutes. As they were liable to be sold
and carried away to distant parts of the country, it was not
convenient to their owners that they should form deep conjugal
attachments ; yet, as every born negro was an additional chat
tel, worth so many pounds in the slave-market, criminal inter
course between the sexes was encouraged, rather than rebuked.
Penn was anxious to check this growing evil by a formal law ;
and as the breach of a law necessarily involved some kind of
punishment, he resolved to introduce two bills into the Assem
bly, which he did with the complete sanction of the colonial
council. ' The first provided for a better regulation of the
morals and marriages of negroes, the second provided for the
modes of their trial and punishment in cases of offence. After
a stormy debate, the Assembly rejected the first of these bills :
— they would not have the morals of their slaves improved !2
The governor cherished his design for a more auspicious
season. The session over, Penn returned to Pennsbury. The
condition of the original natives of the soil occupied a con
siderable share of his attention. He justly regarded them as
very superior in calibre and character to the African race, —
and an impression which had seized upon his mind that they
were descended from the long-lost tribes of Israel, tended not
only to increase his concern for their interests, but to persuade
him that they were capable of being reclaimed to Christianity
and civilization.3 When he made the Great Treaty with them
i Watsor,, 481. 2 Ibid.
3 Penn's Letter to Free Society of Traders, August 6, 1683.

WILLIAM PENN. 303
in 1682, — a treaty which thay had faithfully kept through a
long war under many temptations, — he had proposed to
himself to call a council of the chiefs and warriors twice
a-year, to renew the treaty of friendship, to adjust matters of
trade, to hear and rectify wrongs, and to smoke the pipe of
peace. While he remained in the colony this intention was
strictly carried into effect.1 His mild measures completely
won the noble nature of the Red Men.
The Delaware and Susquehanna tribes had now enjoyed the
mild and equitable rule established at the Great Treaty for
nearly twenty years,, and were anxious to bring other of their
tribes within shelter of the same system of law, but more es
pecially their brethren dwelling on the banks of the Potomac.2
They appealed to the great Onas ; and early in April 1701,
he met by appointment to arrange these matters — Connoo-
daghtoh, king of the Susquehanna Indians — Wopatha, king of
the Shawanese — Weewhinjough, king of the Ganawese — and
Ahookassong, brother to the great Emperor of the Five
Nations, and about forty of their chief warriors. At this
conference they discussed their several interests, and a treaty
of peace and trade was established by mutual consent, on the
same terms as had formerly been granted to the Lenni Lenape".
The red man and the white man were to be as one head and
as one heart. The Indians were to be protected from the
rapacity of the traders ; and as they bound themselves not
to sell their furs and skins out of Pennsylvania, the governor
gave orders that no man should trade with them except the
persons who were duly authorized, and therefore known and
responsible for any misdeeds. He thought it possible to
teach morals by means of commerce, and on these terms the
Potomac Indians were allowed to settle in the colony, the
Susquehanna and Delaware tribes pledging themselves for
their good behavior. A treaty of peace and friendship was
also concluded with Ahookassong as the ambassador of his
imperial brother, on the part of the Five Nations. This was
an important point gained, even in a military sense ; for the
war still raged on the frontiers, and this judicious measure
added another bulwark to Pennsylvania. The governor lost
1 Fishbourne's MSS. quoted in Watson, 445.
2 Proprietary Papers, April 23. State Paper Office.

304 WILLIAM PENN.
no time in transmitting the intelligence ofhis success in these
negotiations to the ministry in England.1
Three months later, a council of ratification was held at
Pennsbury, attended by a great number of Indians, and by
all the officers of the colonial government.2 After the cere
mony of reciting and accepting the treaty was over, Penn
entertained his guests in the great hall. Later in the day
they went out of the house into an open space of the garden
to perform their cantico — a picturesque and agreeable medley
of singing, dancing, and shouting — each expressive of a sense
of joy and victory.3
In the intervals of his more pressing labors at home, the
governor kept up a series of communications with Lord Balla-
mont, the King's governor at New York, and with Colonel
Blakiston, Colonel Nicholson, and other governors of pro
vinces. Many questions of general importance needed to be
arranged ; and a conference was held at New York for the
purpose of settling the heads of a general regulation for all
the colonies, royal and private.4 Penn seems to have been
the leading spirit in this conference of powers. The first
point which engaged their attention was a suggestion of his,
to reduce the money then current in America to one standard.
The irregularity and confusion in regard to the coinage was
almost incredible : the same piece of money passed in Mary
land for 4s. 6d., in Virginia for 5s., in Massachussets for 6s.,
in New York for 6s. 9d., and in Pennsylvania and the Jerseys
for 7s. 8d.5 A second point was a project for encouraging
the timber-trade in the colonies ; a third related to the regu
lation of marriages — a crying abuse — the men going from
one colony to another, bigamy w*as almost as common as wed
lock ; a fourth concerned the establishment of a general postal
system ; a fifth urged the necessity for a comprehensive act
of naturalization, by which the multitudes of French, Dutch,
and Swedes, arriving every year, might at once acquire rights
of property, and attain to the privileges, as well as to the
responsibilities, of English subjects. A calm and obvious
wisdom pervaded these various suggestions, but rare in that
age of political passion and narrow views. There were
1 Prop. Papers, April 23. State Paper Office. His letter contains a copy of
the Treaty. 2 Watson, 445, 6. 8 Richardson's Journal.
4 Proprietary Papers, Dec. 8-13. State Paper Office.
6 Ibid. vol. vi. G. 8 (no date).

WILLIAM PENN. 305
several other points of local and temporary interest dis
cussed ; and one of them, strongly urged by Penn, exhibits
an instance of his fine political sagacity. In the settlement
of boundaries with the French, he indicated, as the basis of
agreement, the line of the great lakes, — on the double ground,
that those inland waters formed a strong natural defence, and
were the chief centres of the Indian trade. His advice was
afterwards adopted by the government.1 Lord Ballamont
having agreed to these several suggestions, Penn returned to
Philadelphia, embodied them in a report, and transmitted
them to London. The Lords of Trade and Plantations re
ceived them with much satisfaction, and admitted their wisdom
and propriety.2
While thus engaged in appeasing the animosities of faction
within, and in laying more solidly and extensively the foun
dations of peace and security without, the governor received
intelligence from England, which disconcerted all-his plans,
and in a few weeks forced upon him the alternative of losing
his colony or instantly repairing to London. The war with
France, and the alliance of the Canadians with the Iroquois,
gave the friends of an imperial colonial system an immense
advantage with the Dutch sovereign ; and in the absence of
most of the great proprietors, they had so far pushed their
successes as to have got a bill introduced into the House of
Lords for converting the private into crown colonies.3 This
was the startling intelligence which he now received. Of
course the attack on his property and private rights was veiled
under pretences of public good : but he saw through the dis
guise, knew the men who were its authors, and felt certain
that after what he had already done, he should be able to
convince the King of his faithfulness to his great trust. He
had not only renewed and extended his friendly treaties with
the natives in his own vicinity, but by his urgent letters and
counsels had engaged Lord Ballamont to conclude a treaty of
peace for all the settlements of the English in North America
with the formidable Emperor of the Five Nations ;4 and within
his own province he had organized a regular system of signals
and watchers, so that the appearance of any suspicious sail in
1 Proprietary Papers, Dec. 13, and vol. vi. G. 8. State Paper Office.
2 Ibid. Marginal notes to the report.
3 Besse, i. 145. Lords' Journals, xvi. 660.
4 Speech to the Assembly, Sep. 15, 1701.
26*

306 WILLIAM PENN.
the waters of the Delaware would be instantly reported to
the government at Philadelphia. The question of a war con
tribution had not yet properly come before the Assembly,
peace having been restored in Europe ; but now the great
drama known in history as the war of the Spanish Succession
was opening in all its mournful and calamitous grandeur, and
the King had written to Penn to have his contingent, or the
money equivalent, ready at the first call, — if the eighty men
were not furnished, a sum of 350Z. was to be raised as a con
tribution, and sent to NewYork. This demand he had already
laid before the Assembly ; but that body, as in every other
case where money was in question, obstinately determined not
to concede a point, talked of their great poverty — doubted
whether the other provinces had done their duty — and finally
resolved to postpone the further consideration of his majesty's
letter, until the war had actually commenced. Affairs were
in this posture, when Penn received from Lawton, to whom
he had left the care of his interests in London,1 the account
of what was passing in the House of Lords. No time was
to be lost. The owners of Pennsylvania property then in
England petitioned the House to postpone the further -dis
cussion of the Colonies Bill until Penn could return and be
heard at the bar in defence of their rights and his own ;2 and
the younger William Penn kept a vigilant eye on the pro
ceedings of the crown-party, some of which were far from
being to their credit. The House of Lords was deceived as
to the state of the colony, as the Board of Trade, obstinately
determined to annex the proprietary provinces to the crown,
kept back some of the more important papers, and tried to
seduce Parliament into a flagrant wrong by unfair representa
tions.3 Young Penn appeared before a Committee of the
House by counsel, — and his pleas tended at least to protract
the inquiry.4 In the colony itself, the feeling against an act
of annexation to the crown was almost universal. Having
called the popular representatives together, the governor laid
the alarming intelligence which he had received before them :
they urged him to return at once, and defend their common
interests.5 He said he could not think of such a voyage
1 Proprietary Papers, Dec. 8-13, 1700. State Paper Office.
2 Besse, i. 145. a Lords' Journals, xvi. 676.
-1 His activity may be traced in Lords' Journals xvi. 660, 2, 4, 6, 676, 684,
8, 697. 6 Hazard's Register, xii. 363.

WILLIAM PENN. 307
without great reluctance — (his wife had recently given birth
to a son, and was still in a delicate state of health) — as he had
promised himself a quiet home amongst them in his old age ;
and even if he should now go away for a season, no unkind-
ness or disappointment would be able to change his fixed de-
termation to return and settle his family in the country. He
advised them to decide quickly as to what ought to be done
for the general security in his absence, — what changes were
needed in the existing constitution, — and what new laws
were required by the new circumstances which had arisen on
every side. He recommended the King's letter touching the
subsidy to their prompt and serious consideration, that being
the key-note of his answer to the misgivings of the court in
England.1 The members thanked him in general terms for these gra
cious words, and then appointed committees to draw up various
statements and prepare the business of the session.2 One
cannot read the record of their proceedings without a feeling
of contempt and indignation. Instead of aiding him to meet
the emergencies of the hour with such means as lay within
their reach, — instead of voting the subsidy and amending the
general laws, — they drew up a list of demands which were
equally insulting and unjust. One of these was a request
that the price of the unsold land should be permanently fixed
at the old rent of a bushel of wheat in a hundred ; so that
while their own estates were trebled or quintupled in value
with cultivation and the increase of inhabitants, his should
not share in the natural increase ! Another was a request
that he would lay out all the unsold bay-marshes, a rich and
highly productive soil, as common land ! There was much
more to the same effect. The ungrateful settlers found him
on the eve of a journey to England, for the purpose of enter
ing into a dispute in which he might be worsted, the crown itself
being both judge and client, and they sought to wring out of
his misfortunes the largest share of personal gain for them
selves. His equanimity under such an insult was surprising.
His feelings were deeply hurt, but he reasoned calmly and
logically. The inconsistency of their demands was pointed
out, — concessions, where no principle was involved, were made,
— and the Assembly, perhaps ashamed of its own rapacious
1 Speech to the Assembly, Sept. 15. 3 Besse, i. 145

308 WILLIAM PENN.
conduct, returned to something like a sense of its position
and its duties. The new charter of liberties was argued at
great length,— and on the 28th of October it was finally set
tled and accepted in the presence of the Council and Assem
bly. It contained several minor encroachments on the powers
of the governor and his council : — but the chief innovation of
a purely political nature was the right which the assembly
now acquired to originate bills. They had done this for some
time illegally and on sufferance ; they were henceforth esta
blished in their usurped right by charter.1
Then came the question of money. Penn had plenty of
land under cultivation, — the fields gave him corn and meat,
— the rivers abounded with fish, — and the air yielded stores
of birds for his table. To live in America with little or no
money was easy enough in his circumstances. But to remove
his family across the Atlantic was an expensive affair : — a
vessel must be hired, an outfit provided, wages must be paid.
Yet the Assembly would do nothing for him in the way of a
grant ; and he was ultimately obliged to sell, on any terms,
as much land as would cover the expenses of his voyage home.2
To the last moment the Assembly refused to take upon the
country the charges of its own government !3
His preparations for departure were hastily made. The
two ladies were in a flutter of delight at the idea of returning
to England. After the novelties of the scene were over, they
had felt no cordial love for the wilderness ; and had more than
once urged the governor to take them back.4 They were per
haps the only persons in Pennsylvania who rejoiced at their
departure. As soon as the news had got abroad that Onas was about
to quit the Delaware, the Indians came in from all parts of
the country to take leave of him. A foreboding that he would
never more return across the great salt lake haunted their
untutored minds, and they clung to his assurances of amity
and justice with the greater force, under the fear that his
children would not be to them what he had been. To comfort
them in their distress, he introduced them to his council, and
again repeated his desires with respect to their humane and
1 A copy of the charter is in Proprietary Papers, Oct. 28, ,1701. State
Paper Office. 2 Penn to Logan, Sept. 8.
3 Phil. Friend, xviii. 345. 4 Penn to Logan, Sept. 8.

WILLIAM PENN. 309
honorable treatment ; the members of the council pledged
themselves to carry out his wishes just as if he were still
living at Pennsbury, to punish the guilty and protect the in
nocent. With these promises they were obliged to be satisfied,
but they took their parting gifts very sorrowfully, — and after
the lapse of a century and a half the memory of that day
was still fresh in the hearts of their descendants.
The vessel in which the family were to sail being now ready,
he appointed James Logan his agent, and Colonel Hamilton,
ex-governor of the Jerseys, his deputy, with the full consent
of the assembly.1 The latter personage was to be assisted
by a council of ten ; and, at the urgent request of the repre
sentatives, who fancied that affairs would necessarily proceed
more regularly if one of the proprietarial family were in the
colony, the governor promised to send over his son William
without delay, that he might learn betimes the nature and
wants of the country he would in a few years have to govern.2
Penn saw no more of the Holy Experiment P
1 Proprietary Papers, Oct. 27. State Paper Office.
2 Phil. Friend, xviii. 354. 3 Besse, i. 147.

310 WILLIAM PENN.

CHAPTER XII.
1702-1717.
THE CLOSING SCENES.
When Penn arrived in England he found the state of parties
changed and changing daily. Death was busy in the high
places of the earth. Less than three months before his re
turn, his old guardian, the exiled King, had paid the debt of
nature. In little more than three months after, his son-in-law
was also gathered to the tomb. The game of his ambition
had been played out. The native ruler was laid by strangers
in a foreign soil : the un-English prince was interred in West
minster Abbey by the side of our ancient kings. William had
won ; — but it was a joyless victory. He had served the ends
of a great party ; and that party upheld him then, and ap
plaud his memory now. But he never was the King of Eng
lishmen. He lived unloved, — and he died unmourned.1
The Princess Ann, like her sister Mary, had been a firm
friend, so far as her nature could be firm, to the governor of
Pennsylvania ; and as soon as she succeeded to the throne,
he became once more a frequent and a welcome guest at court.2
But even before William's death, he had been somewhat re
lieved from his anxieties on account of the colony. The pro
tests, the examination of witnesses, the delays caused by the
production of papers, — the opposition made by young Penn
on his father's behalf, and by the Earl of Bath on his own
account, — had caused the session to slip away without the
Bill of Annexation arriving at maturity ; and the process
would, therefore, have to commence anew in the succeeding
parliament.3 His fears were much abated. In the Upper
House he knew that he had many powerful friends whom his
personal influence would rouse to active exertions in his be
half; and of the favorable disposition of the Commons he had
1 Burnet, iv. 539.— Onslow's note, 541, 2. 2 Besse, i. 147.
3 Lord's Journals, xvi. 736. The further progress of the bill (see note 3,
p. 306) may be traced, 700, 15, 17, 22, 26, 36.

WILLIAM PENN. 311
a strong assurance in the fact, that as soon as the members
of that House met together, his adroit and steadfast friend
Harley was chosen speaker.1 The bill introduced and dis
cussed in the House of Lords the previous session was not
again brought forward.2 Of this bill it is enough to say, that
it contemplated a huge national robbery, not proposing to re
purchase the colonial governments from their private owners,
but to seize them by pretence of law against every admitted
principle of justice.3 The rapacity of the pariy in favor of
crown-colonies was one of the best elements of security for
Penn ; as he said in one of his reports to the Queen's govern
ment, they proposed to take from him the rights for which
twenty years ago he had cancelled a debt of sixteen thousand
pounds. That debt, at the legal rate of six per cent, compound
interest, would have been more than trebled in 1702 ; if Eng
land took away his government, it would be only just to pay
him the money. But the annexation clique had not thought
of doing this ; on the contrary, they pretended that if they
left his civil rights untouched, it was sufficient. He replied
that the soil was his own by subsequent and legal purchase
from the natives ; that his bargain with King Charles and the
Duke of York was for the government of the country.4 King
William admitted this statement of the case to be correct;
and, covetous of power as he was, he declined to adopt the
suggestions of his friends, when they advised him to tear in
pieces the old charters of the colonies. The Board of Trade,
determined, if possible, not to be defeated with their bill in
the approaching session, sent to the Earl of Manchester, the
King's principal Secretary of State, an unfair and most ex
aggerated statement of the disorders, abuses, and discontents
which, they said, reigned in the proprietaries ; of the greater
abuses and discontents which prevailed in the royal colonies
not a word was said ; and on the papers so placed in his hands
he was desired to obtain his majesty's opinion.5 The infor
mation on which the Board acted was obtained for them by
one Randolph, — the same fellow whom Markham had sent to
gaol for his insolence, — and a more paltry basis for a serious
1 Penn to Logan, Jan. 24, 1702. 2 Besse, i. 147.
3 A copy of the bill is in State Paper Office. Proprietary Papers, April 8,
1702. 4 Proprietaries, vol. vii. L. 38. State Paper Office
5 Plant. Gen. Papers, vol. xxxvi. p. 36. State Paper Office.

312 WILLIAM PENN.
charge has perhaps never been known. This agent had worked
for his masters in the lowest sinks of American society; and
out of prison reports and ale-house gossip he concocted a list
of what he called "high crimes and misdemeanors" against
the proprietors of North and South Carolina, Maryland, Dela
ware, Pennsylvania, East and West New Jersey, the Bahama
Islands, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New. Hampshire, and
Massachusetts.1 On these hints the Board at home acted ;
but William set aside such considerations with the contempt
they deserved. To the military question he was more alive;
but he would not hear of the proprietors being dispossessed
of their governments by an act of parliament. Manchester
returned an answer to the Lords of Trade, in which he gave
the heads of a bill agreeable to the King's ministry. It pro
vided that the King should command the entire naval and
military strength of the colonies, — that justice should be ad
ministered in his name, — and that he should possess a nega
tive on all future laws.2 The laws and charters of the colonies,
the civil and political powers, privileges and jurisdiction of the
proprietors, were left untouched. The Board opposed this
draft of an enactment, as not meeting the abuses, disorders,
and discontents, to the existence of which they now thought
themselves pledged. They replied that the bill formerly under
discussion in the House of Lords was the only measure to
which they could give their confidence.3
The accession of Ann put an end for a time to these in
trigues ; but troubles continued to increase on account of the
colony ; and family circumstances, within a year or two of
that event, induced Penn himself to make proposals of a sur
render to the crown. As soon as he landed in England, the
governor had prepared to redeem his promise by sending his
son to Philadelphia ; but in his father's absence this ill-starred
youth had given himself up to the worst excesses, and was
now little disposed to leave the brilliant^and dissipated life of
London for the dull solitudes of a new country and the stiff
decorum of a Quaker city. From his school-days he had kept
the highest company ; and, thoroughly instructed in the ways
of vice, he had only waited his father's departure from Eng-
1 Proprietary Piipers, vol. vi. G. 3. State Paper Office.
2 Ibid. vi. H. 13. State Paper Office.
3 Ibid. xxvi. 383.

WILLIAM PENN. 313
land, — as was then thought by all the family on an absence
of years, — to enter into them with all the aruor of unchecked
youthful passions. He drank — he roystered about — he kept
women. When his father returned so suddenly and unexpect
edly, he found him deep in debt, and almost ruined in consti
tution.1 This was the worst stroke of all for Penn, as the
clever but perverted boy was the only remaining son of the
lost Guli, and heir to his colonial government. He had the
grace, however, to be ashamed of himself; and on his father
promising to pay his debts, he consented to go out for a time
to America, and study the. business of the country under the
guidance of the newly named Deputy-Governor Evans and the
council. Penn wrote the most urgent letters to his old friends
in Philadelphia about him : "he has wit," he said, "has kept
top company, and must be handled with much wisdom." Lo
gan undertook to give him good counsel, and to keep such an
eye on him as he would on a favorite son. But still the ex
periment turned out most unfortunately.2
For a few months he behaved very well. Logan retained
his influence ; and between the occasional visit to Philadel
phia, and his dogs and gun or hunter and fishing-tackle at the
Manor House, his time was pleasantly and innocently, if not
very usefully spent. But after a while an evil intimacy sprang
up between the youth and Governor Evans, — just such an ill-
conditioned person as himself, though with far more hypocrisy,
— and between them they soon contrived to bring discredit on
themselves and a scandal on the whole community. Young
Penn, as presumptive heir to the government, not only set an
evil example, but undertook to protect those who imitated his
own excesses. The young, the idle, the dissolute crowded
about him ; finding that he much more resembled his grand
father the admiral than his pacific father, they made him
their chief; and the war-question being then under discussion
in the Assembly, he openly joined the war-party, and on his
own authority organized a body of troops in the Quaker city.3
Nor was this his worst offence. He and his companions fre
quented low taverns ; they got up rows in the streets and beat
the watch ; they broke the city regulations. The riot of Lon-
' Logan Correspondence, Phil. Friend, xviii. 362. 2 Ibid. 354-363.
3 Penn to Logan, Feb. 16, 1704. — Proprietary Papers, vol. v. No. 2. State
Paper Office. 27

314 WILLIAM PENN.
don and Paris seemed to have rushed at once into the midst
of that quiet community. A masquerade was established at
the house of one Simes, a publican.1 The roysterers caroused
till past midnight at the White Hart. Women went about
the streets in male attire ; and two men were brought into
court at the same time on a charge of being found at night
in women's clothes, contrary to nature and decency.2 As the
elders frowned, the young grew worse and worse. At length
came the crisis. There was a violent scene in the streets one
night ; the constable was beaten in the performance of his
duty ; and the city guard was called out to quell the disorder.
Some of the disturbers escaped, and others were arrested : —
among the former was the deputy governor, among the latter
was young Penn.3 Next morning he was brought before the
mayor and rated severely. He replied with taunts and defi
ance ; he was a gentleman, he said, and not responsible to his
father's petty officers. Evans took his part and annulled by
proclamation the proceedings of the magistrate's court.4 This
audacious conduct roused the Quaker spirit : — that body in
dicted young Penn, and in his anger he renounced their doc
trines, discipline, and jurisdiction.5 These disorders were a
source of inappeasable grief to the governor in England,
already deeply involved in his own concerns ; and they fur
nished his old enemy Colonel Quarry, again active in his em
ployer's work, with solid grounds of complaint against his
government.6 The young man soon afterwards returned to
England, again deep in debt, though he had sold the fine
estate of Williamstadt, 7000 acres, given him by his father,7
and as thoroughly disgusted with America as America was
with him. He quitted Pennsylvania with the threat that he
would persuade his father to sell the colony to the crown, and
leave the settlers to deal with a less merciful ruler.8
Penn had a father's pardonable weakness for this unruly
youth. He thought the Quakers of the colony had dealt too
harshly with him, — that they had not sufficiently considered
his youth and the temptations to which he was exposed. Al
ways lenient in his own" constructions, he thought his friends
1 Watson, 257. 2 Ibid.
3 Proprietary Papers, September 2, 1704. State Paper Office.
4 Ibid. Sep. 23. State Paper Office. 5 ibid. Oct. 15.
6 Ibid. vol. viii. N. 5, 7, 16. ' Phil. Friend, xix. 17.
8 Ibid. Oct. 15. State Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 315
should have seen the misconduct of his son in its least offen
sive aspect ; and it was an additional grief to him to find that
m whatever related to his own interests or to the private con
cerns of his family, the men. who had most profited by his
labors were always inclined to take the most uncharitable
course.1 What his son desired from choice, he was impelled towards
by necessity. His old steward, Philip Ford, one of the vilest
scoundrels that ever ruined a trusting client, had died in Ja
nuary, 1702,2 leaving his affairs to the management of his
son and his widow, — the last a woman of masculine vices, and
though bedridden with disease, of most unswerving energy.
By her the son was ruled despotically ; but he would have
been himself as great a scoundrel as either of his parents had
he possessed their talents.3 The elder Ford had so contrived
to jumble Penn's accounts, as to keep him in a state of uncer
tainty as to how they really stood. Being a Quaker, the
governor reposed- a perfect confidence in his integrity ; and
when asked to sign papers and accounts as a matter of course,
seldom or never troubled himself to read them over, but in
simple faith and uprightness set his name to them and passed
them to his steward.4 The lawyer knew how to take advan
tage of this want of worldly prudence in his client ; and in
an evil hour, when Penn needed money to go over to America
the second time, he induced him to give him — as a mere matter
of form — a deed of sale for the colony, on whicli he advanced
him 2,800Z. This deed was considered by Penn, and profes
sedly considered by Ford, as a mortgage.5 Ford received
money on account of the province, and made such advances
as the governor required ; and it was not until the latter re
turned to England that the first suspicion of his steward's
villainy crossed his mind. He was loath to entertain it ; and
tried for a time to think himself deceived.6 But as soon as
the old Quaker died, his knavery came to the full light of
day. Penn, from his uncertain remembrance of the various
sums advanced and received, believed the mortgage — or deed
of sale — to be nearly cancelled ; but the funeral rites were
hardly paid to the dead, before the widow suddenly sent in a
1 Logan to Penn. Oct. 27. 2 Friends' Register, Jan. 8, 1701-2.
" Phil. Friend, xix. 82. 4 Penn's MS. Statement.
6 Penn to Logan, December 28, 1705. 6 MS. Statement.

316 WILLIAM PENN.
bill for 14,0002., and threatened to seize and sell the province
if it were not immediately paid.1
Penn was thunderstruck. He asked for accounts properly
drawn up, with all the items of receipt and expenditure, and
the vouchers. Henry Goldney, a legal Friend, and Herbert
Springett, a near relation of his first wife, assisted him with
their knowledge and experience.2 When the accounts of the
faithless steward were re-arranged, it appeared, by his own
showing, that he had received on behalf of Penn 17,8592.,
and that he had paid 16,2002., so that he had actually received
1,6592. more than he had advanced. Yet he claimed 14,0002. !3
That the matter should be settled on just bases, and, both
parties being Friends, that no scandal should be brought on
the society, the governor proposed to refer it to the arbitration
of wise and impartial persons of their own body or out of it ;
but the Fords rejected the proposal. They stood to their
bond : they wanted law — not equity.4 It was to no end that
their old master quoted the words of the elder Ford, calling
the living wife and daughter in as witnesses ; they said they
would adhere to the written instrument, — the courts would
give them the money which they claimed, and they would have
it one way or another. It was well for him that he was able
to find among his papers a complete set of the accounts as
they had been rendered from time to time, and as he had
passed them away so unsuspectingly.5 These accounts en
abled him to unravel the whole mystery of fraud and iniquity.
(1.) The Fords had charged him interest on all their advances;
but had allowed none on the receipts. (2.) They had charged -
him eight per cent. ' interest, though six was the fixed and
legal rate. (3.) They had charged compound interest on the
original advance of 2,8002., posting it every six months, and
sometimes oftener, so that the illegal overcharge of interest
again bore interest, though the fair balance of the account
was on Penn's side of the ledger. (4.) They had charged
fifty shillings as their commission instead of ten, for every
1002. received or paid — even on the overcharges of interest
paid to themselves, adding it to the principal every six months,
so as to make him pay the monstrous commission of 21. 10s.
1 MS. Statement. 2 Penn's Mortgages. MS.
3 MS. Statement. 4 Penn to Logan, Dec. 28, 1705.
6 "The accounts, though so voluminous, have been, through Providence
rather than by my carefulness, preserved entire." Ibid.

WILLIAM PENN. 317
to the hundred six or seven times over on the same money !
(5.) Penn had given the mortgage1 as a security for the 2,8002.
advanced, reserving, of course, the right to sell more land if
he found purchasers ; while in the colony he had sold a lot
for 2,0002., of which he sent 6152. to Ford in liquidation of
the debt ; but instead of posting the 6152. to the governor's
credit, he assumed that the deed of sale had made the entire
colony his own, and therefore charged the account with the
remaining 1,3852. of the purchase-money, as if he had actu
ally advanced the money out of his pocket, and from that day
reckoned commission and compound interest at eight per cent.
-on this sum also.2 No wonder that the Fords refused to sub
mit their claims to arbitration ! The excess of charges on
the second, third, and fourth items here briefly enumerated
was found to amount to 9,6972., reducing the claim of 14,0002.
to 4,3032. This sum Penn offered to pay, and more, for the
sake of peace ; but his creditors sternly shook their deed of
sale in his face, and threatened him with a chancery suit if
the whole amount were not paid down by a given day. Friends
interfered ; some even came over from America for the pur
pose ; but, conscious of being in the wrong, the younger Ford
grew insolent and repelled their advice.3
Rather than submit to be ruined by such scoundrels, Penn
allowed the case to go before the Lord Chancellor, though
well aware that the uncancelled deed of sale could not be
disputed; of course the court affirmed the special case of
debt ; and armed with this verdict, Ford grew more audacious
than ever. Disregarding every tie of gratitude, every con
sideration of decency, he went with a constable to the Grace
church Street meeting, and attempted to arrest his old patron
in the gallery, while surrounded by their common friends, and
engaged in the act of worship.4 Herbert Springett and Henry
Goldney prevented this outrage by promising that he should
come out to them in a short time, which he did, and then by
Habeas Corpus threw himself, on legal advice, into the Fleet
prison, — not because he was unable to meet the demands made
upon him, but because he was counselled on all hands not to
gratify the knaves by compliance.5 This incident created an
1 In his Statement he never uses the words, "deed of sale."
'2 MS. Statement.
3 Norris to Joseph Pike, Phil. Friend, xix. 82.
4 Hjjd xjx 105 6 MS. Statement.
27*

318 WILLIAM PENN.
extraordinary sensation ; the Society of Friends was especi
ally wrath with the Fords for dogging their victim to the
meeting ; and many of those who had been lukewarm in the
dispute before, now zealously came forward in Penn's defence.
Envy itself was appeased in presence of this shameful in
dignity.1 In his old age the governor of Pennsylvania was again a
prisoner. His lodgings, commodious and even comfortable,
considering the circumstances under which he entered them,
were in the Old Bailey ; and there he not only held meetings
of his own sect for religious worship, but was visited by his
friends from the other end of the town.2 The Lord Treasurer,
Sidney Godolphin, touched with his situation, was an especial
friend in this hour of need ; and in his official capacity
favorably entertained a proposal to advance him 70002. for
the service of his colony, on the easy condition of its being
repaid in nine years from the date of lending.3 Penn him
self now began to rely chiefly on the sale of his colony to the
crown to free him from all his embarrassments; his son was
pressingly anxious to be rid of the incubus on the family for
tunes ; and the oldest and best friends of the governor in
Pennsylvania urged him strongly to make a bargain with the
Queen, though they saw well enough that the transfer would
make against their personal interests as settlers.4 It was a
dire necessity that reconciled him to the thought of giving up
to strange hands the guidance of his Holy Experiment, — nor
would he ever have dreamt of such a thing had the settlers
not treated him with the basest ingratitude. " I went thither,"
he says, in a letter to the Judge Mompesson, " to lay the
foundations of a free colony for all mankind. The charter I
granted was intended to shelter them against a violent and
arbitrary government imposed on us ; but, that they should
turn it against me, that intended it for their security, is very
unworthy and provoking, especially as I alone have been at
all the expense . . . But as a father does not usually knock
his children on the head when they do amiss, so I had much
rather they were corrected and better instructed than treated
to the rigor of their deservings."5 When the colonists heard
1 Norris Corresp. Phil. Friend, xix. 105. 2 Ibid. March 6, 1708.
3 Penn to Logan, May 3, 1708. This letter is dated from the Lord Chan
cellor's house.
4 Phil. Friend, xix. 50, 73, 81. 6 Penn to Mompesson, Feb. 17, 1705.

WILLIAM PENN. 319
ofhis troubles with Ford, though most of them pretended a
decent concern, and some openly expressed their sympathy
there were not a few secretly glad, imagining that out of a
doubtful and disputed title they would be able to seize some
advantages for themselves. Logan briefly described the feel
ing of the colony : -- There are few," he said to Penn in one
of his letters, " that think it any sin to haul what they can
from thee." Some, he added, were honest enough, but the
honest men let the rogues have their own way, saying it was
not their business. l They invaded his rights, — they seized his
land, — they withheld his rents. Penn mourned in soul at these
evidences of faithlessness and ingratitude ; he attributed them
to ignorance of their duties, to the novelty of their position
as legislators, and he again and again found excuses for
them in his heart. With a readier logic, Logan traced their
meanness and avarice to an excess of freedom ; and censured
his friend for having given them so much better a charter than
they deserved.2 Against this inference the governor steadily
protested ; and when he came to treat with the crown for the
surrender of his province, he made so many conditions in
favor of the colonists, and for the security of their rights, that
the Queen's government was obliged to tell him, the remain
der was hardly worth a purchase.3 Under these. circumstances,
the negotiations went on very slowly ; Penn proposed to sell
the government of his colony to the Queen for 20,0002., con
siderably less than he had given for it, reckoning the interest
at six per cent, for twenty years, on the old debt, — but stipu
lated that the charter as then existing and the whole body of
fundamental laws should be accepted by the crown in good
faith and without reserve, and a guarantee given that the
province should be kept separate and distinct.4 On such con
ditions the Queen was not anxious to treat. The crown
desired to regain the private colonies, in order, by a general
system of defence, to strengthen the frontiers against the
French ; but twenty years' experience had now shown that
so long as Pennsylvania remained a separate colony, it would
be difficult, if not impossible, to obtain from it that military co
operation which was deemed essential to the common safety.
1 Logan Corresp. Phil. Friend, xix. 49, 50. 2 Ibid.
6 Hannah Penn to Logan, Feb. 22, 1715.
4 Prop. Papers, June 18, 1703— Dec. 7, 1710. State Paper Office.

320 WILLIAM PENN.
It was only by means of Colonel Fletcher's plan of combining
the provinces in which Quaker influence was strong — Penn
sylvania, Rhode Island, Delaware and West New Jersey — with
the Puritan and more warlike settlements of New England, that
the bold front could be opposed to the French, which Marl
borough and the Queen's advisers thought necessary to the
general security. The crown steadily refused to buy the
colony except on terms which left it free to adopt its own
measures of defence ; and although negotiations were renewed
from time to time, no bargain had been finally made when
Penn was arrested by the Fords.1 Yet even at this moment,
though a prisoner in the Fleet, his thoughts were full of that
free and pacific democracy which he had founded, the free
colony for all mankind — the peace and plenty enjoyed by the
settlers — and in spite of their ingratitude, their petty mean
ness, their secret persecution, he would not give up to the
imperial government a single item of those rights which he
had himself granted to them as their lord proprietor.2
Young Ford went over to Pennsylvania. He there found
out Quarry, David Loyd, and other factious persons who were
opposed to the Penn family ; and in concert with these men
contrived by false reports and under-hand practices still
further to spread discontent and embarrass the government.
Governor Evans had now retrieved his character, and he de
fended the person and the interests of his employer with a
dignity and a success which astonished every one. From that
moment he became an object of suspicion and evil report.3
Having gained over several persons to his interests, — espe
cially the infamous David Loyd, — Ford returned to England
and held out threats of a disturbance in the colony, if his un
just demands were not met. Penn taking no heed of these
menaces, he sent out letters to the effect that the province was
his — his father, he said, having bought it from Penn several
years ago, and relet it to him on a certain rental ; the rents
not having been regularly paid,' he said he was now resolved
to take the country into his own hands, and therefore cau
tioned the owners of land not to pay any moneys to the agents
1 The progress of these negotiations may be traced in the Proprietary Papers,
under dates May 11, 1703; May 18, June 8, 15, 18; Jan. 2, 1705; Jan. 11,
March 9, May 1, June 5, 6, 20, Sept. 1, Oct. 12, 23. State Paper Office.
2 Penn's Letter, Feb. 26, 1705. Hazard's Register, xii. 363.
3 Phil. Friend, xix. 114.

WILLIAM PENN. 321
of Penn, at their proper peril.1 He and his mother had im
pudence enough even to petition the Queen to issue a new
charter, making the colony over to them.2 Up to this point
they had received no check in their roguery ; but now the
Lord Chancellor Cowper, having heard the case argued, not
only gave judgment against them, but spoke so severely as
to the merits of the case, and the animus of their proceedings,
as to cow their spirits most effectually.3
Fearing lest^ he should lose all, the younger Ford began to
talk of terms. Penn had offered to pay more than five hun
dred pounds more than appeared to be justly due on the face
of the amended account ; but this offer had been rejected.4
And now another instance of the elder Ford's swindling was
discovered. In the accounts appeared an item of 1,2002. paid
into the Society's stock, which, with compound interest, reck
oned every six months, amounted in the long-run to 5,5692.
But on searching into the Society's books, it was found that
instead of 1,2002., as stated in the accounts, he had only paid
in 5002. The balance of 7002., with the eight per cent, com
pound interest, amounted to 3,2492. of overcharge on this
item alone ; and this being deducted from the former balance
of 4,3032., left only 1,0542. owing altogether, according to
the rules of business and equity.5
As the Fords now showed a disposition to treat for the
liquidation of their claim, Penn began to raise money. Much
of his private property was gone to support his family during
the twenty years of his profitless rule in America. He sold
the Worminghurst estate to a Squire Butler for 6,0502., just
1,5502. more than he gave for it, after having cut down 2,0002.
worth of timber. This money satisfied some of his creditors,
but not all ; and one of them, a man named Churchill, was
so importunate, as to try to stop Butler's payment of the
purchase-money.6 Under the advice of Henry Goldney, the
lawyer, whose purse was as much at his friend's service as his
tongue, Penn and his son William made over to Callowhill,
Goldney, Oades, and several others, a deed of sale of Penn-
1 Logan's Corresp. July 13, 1705.
2 Privy Council Register, A. R. iii. 508. Privy Council Office.
3 Norris to Logan, March 6, 1708.
4 Field to Story, July 22, 1707. Story MSS.
s MS. Statement.
6 Penn to Logan, May 18, 1708.

322 WILLIAM PENN.
sylvania for one year, in consideration of the receipt of ten
shillings, with intent that these parties might be in actual
possession of the province during the settlement with the
Fords and other creditors.1 This was done as a matter of
precaution ; but the next day the same parties took a formal
mortgage of the colony, and paid into his hands 6,8002. 2
Henry Goldney and three friends advanced 3,3002..; Thomas
Callowhill, his father-in-law, 1,0002. ; John Field and Thomas
Cuppage 1,0002. ; twenty- three other persons subscribed the
remaining 1,5002.3 With this money the Fords were paid.
After much negotiation, they had reduced their monstrous
claim just one-half ; Penn was ill satisfied with this state of
the account ; but his legal advisers took the matter into their
own hands, and arranged it to the best of their ability, he,
for the sake of peace, finally acquiescing. Between seven
and eight thousand pounds were paid, and he quitted his dole
ful lodgings in the Old Bailey for a house at Brentford.4
Disorders continued in Pennsylvania. The vigorous mea
sures adopted by Evans to protect the public rights of his
employer arrayed against him the whole tribe of those lawless
and selfish men who favored pirates, disliked the quaker re
gime, and sought their own aggrandisement in the ruin of
their governor. Men of this stamp abound in every new set
tlement ; and the extreme amenity of the laws in Pennsyl
vania had attracted them to its capital from every part of the
continent. Evans behaved in his difficult situation with more
zeal than prudence. Instead of rallying round him the more
respectable body of the old Quaker settlers, he offended their
prejudices, and broke with them finally on the war question.
Procuring a false report to arrive in the city that the French
were coming up the river, he rushed into the street, with his
drawn sword in his hand, calling on the people right and left
to arm and follow him. The terror was extreme. Some
• Original Deeds, Oct. 6, 1708. 2 Ibid. Oct. 7, 1708.
3 I am willing to preserve the names of these faithful friends : Geoffrey
Pinnell, 1002. ; Richard Champion, 1001. ; Ab. Lloyd, 1001. ; James Peters,
1001. ; Edward Lloyd, 1002. ; Charles Jones, 1002. ; George Bridges. 1002. ;
Thomas Oade, 502. ; Charles Harford, 502. ; Peter Rosens, 502. ; Benj. Cole,
502. ; John Scandrett, 502. ; Silvanus Cox, 502! ; Charles Jones, 502. ; Brice
Webb, 502. ; Cornelius Sargeant, 502.; Benj. Moss, 502.; N. Kitt, 502. ; Enoch
Noble, 502. ; C. Harford, 502. ; John Andrews, 502. ; Jos. Vigor, 502. ; and
Edward Lyne, 502. — Ibid.
4 Penn to Logan, May 3, 1708

WILLIAM PENN. 323
burned their effects,— many fled into the woods,— still more
seized their arms and placed themselves under his command.
He fixed his standard on Society Hill, and three hundred
well-armed men, some of them Quakers, appeared at the
rendezvous.1 The deputy's purpose was answered : he had
discovered by the cheat how many of the inhabitants of the
city he could rely on in case of a real attack ; but the Quakers,
to use the words of Logan, were disgusted and piqued to the
heart, and they certainly never pardoned the clumsy con
trivance.2 Another enemy to the peace of the colony appeared in the
churchmen. Every opinion, political or religious, being free
in Pennsylvania, — and every sect having its own right of
worship, — several persons belonging to the Church of Eng
land had settled in the province. So early as 1702, the
inhabitants of Philadelphia were easily divided into about
two equal portions : — one of these were Quakers, real or
professing ; the other was a curious medley of English In
dependents, Irish Catholics, Scotch Presbyterians, Welsh
Episcopalians, German Amish, Swiss Calvinists, Swedish
Lutherans, and so on. Each of these sects supported its
own worship and ministry. Though the Quakers were in a
large majority over any other individual sect, they carefully
abstained, as a body, from giving themselves the airs of a
colonial church.3 And for twenty years the various churches
had lived in decent harmony, until the intriguing spirit of the
clergy at home sent pride, discord, and disunion among them.
To conciliate the Bishop of London and the Church party
generally, King William had made two grants — one of 502.
a year, chargeable on the customs, towards the support of a
church and minister at Philadelphia; the other of 302. a year,
equally chargeable on the customs, for the support of a school
master.4 Nor was the tax of a penny a pound on all the
tobacco exported from Pennsylvania and the Delaware the
chief evil of this arrangement.* Under favor of this en
dowment, which in itself was an outrage to every other deno
mination in the colony, the Vestry of St. Paul's assumed the
haughty and dictatorial attitude of the Church in England.
' Logan to Penn. May 28, 1705. 2 Ibid.
3 Phil. Friend, xviii. 386. „,„„.„ -, n«;„„
4 Privy Council Register, W. R. iv. 240. Privy Council Office.
5 Ibid. A. R. i. 114.

324 WILLIAM PENN.
They labored year by year to undermine and destroy the
power of the too tolerant proprietor, — now invoking the pro
tection of Lord Cornbury, — now applying for support and
counsel to the see of London, — now joining with the pirate
party, the ultra-democrats, the anti-rent-payers, or with any
other party of disorder.1 Their policy was obvious and logical
enough. They wished to be made the national Church, to
obtain endowments, charters, and privileges from the state.
Their first measure, therefore, was to get the colony annexed
to the English crown. They were unjust and ungenerous ;
but they were not, like the Quakers, and other Dissenters,
illogical. They pleaded the license of a party suffering per
secution : their clergy, they said, had not the same rank and
the same rights as in England : this was their grievance. In
a land of equals, they would be superior. They claimed im
munities which were denied to all. They wished to be the
dominant church.3
Penn was anxious to return to America. Every month he
seemed finally determined to go over, as things had always
gone on smoothly under his own ^control. But his want of
means continually interfered. At the end of this year he
wrote to his agent — " I assure thee, if the people would only
settle 6002. a-year upon me as governor, I would hasten over.
.... Cultivate this among the best Friends."3 But the
best Friends would do nothing. When the Assembly met the
quarrel with Evans was at its height : if they proposed a bill,
he rejected it : if he proposed a bill, they rejected it in turn.
Nothing was done ; and the confusion at head-quarters pa
ralysed or disturbed every branch of industry in the province.
Penn was obliged to recall his deputy.4
Lord Baltimore was again active. After a lapse of twenty-
three years, he revived his claim to the second half of the
Delaware peninsula; it is possible that he only then dis
covered that his rival's title to the territory in question, had
never been formally completed ;5 and although three succes
sive sovereigns had allowed his right of possession to remain
1 Proprietary Papers, vol. vii. M. 22 ; viii. 0. 77. State Paper Office 
Logan Corresp. Phil. Friend, xviii. and xix.
2 Privy Council Registers, A. R. i. 114 et seq. Privy Council Office-
Logan Corresp. Phil. Friend, xviii. 386.
3 Watson, 552.
4 Proprietary Papers, May 20, 1708. State Paper Office.
6 Ibid. vii. L. 38. State Paper Office.

WILLIAM PENN. 325
undisputed, he thought there was a new opening for his claim,
and he advanced it.1 He petitioned the Queen to repeal the
Order in Council, made by her father, dividing the peninsula,
and to restore the whole to him in virtue of his original grant.
Somers and Sunderland advised Penn to send in a counter-
petition to the Queen.2 The Lords of Trade allowed the
question to be re-opened ; but they were unable to settle it on
any satisfactory basis ; and finding their geography and law
equally at fault, they had recourse to the old plan of asking
the litigants to arrange it for themselves, and report the re
sults to that board.3 The dispute remained unsettled for
more than another quarter of a century,4 to the great annoy
ance of the proprietor and the injury of -his family. But a
new source of trouble was opened by the dispute ; and the
uncertainty about boundary-lines soon lost itself in the prior
question of title. It was to no purpose Penn urged that his
deeds were made out, and were all but signed when King
James fled from Whitehall; there were many powerful per
sonages about the court Whose anxiety to obtain an American
province, ministers thought proper to coquet with, — among
others, the Earl of Sutherland set up a claim to the Dela
ware,5 — and the government chose to consider its own claim
to the territories on that river as something more than a pre
tence. When Deputy- Govern or Colonel Gookin was sent out
in 1708, and again when Sir William Keith was appointed to
the same office in 1716, the minister gave his sanction with a
special reservation of the supposed right of the crown to the
Delaware province.6
<Penn was now sixty-five. His health was failing ; his im
prisonment in the close atmosphere of the Old Bailey had
given a shock to his constitution, from the effects of which he
had never recovered. Country air had now become indispen-
^' Maryland Papers, Feb. 21, 1708.— Proprietary Papers, Feb. 20, March
¦LState Paper Office.
¦gPrivy Council Registers, A. R. iv. 245, 6, 304. Privy Council Office.—
K. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 209.
"~"3 Maryland Papers, August 24, 1708. State Paper Office.
4 Penn. Hist Soc. Mem. i. 188. It was settled in the Law C;urts in 1750.
6 Proprietary Papers, x. Q. 110. I have traced the progress of the Earl's
claim through Proprietary Papers, xxxi. 70. Ibid x. Q. 115, 134. America
and West Indies Papers, Oct. 21, 1717. The writer of colonial history should
consult these papers. .
8 Privy Council Registers, A. R. iv. 139, and G. R. i. 481. Privy Council
Office.

326 WILLIAM PENN.
sable to him ; he tried Brentwood ; but that was too near
London, and he subsequently took a handsome country seat
at Ruscombe, in Berkshire, where he continued to reside until
the day of his death. Some fitful gleams of light broke in
upon his later years ; dreams of an unattainable prosperity,
which served at least to rouse his attention and to exhilirate
his now sinking spirits. Soon after he had recovered his
colony, reports arrived that a great silver mine had been dis
covered in the province j1 a long and powerful remonstrance
which he wrote to his American subjects, produced the most
happy effects ; and the establishment of a general peace gave
him reason to hope for the speedy settlement of a long out
standing account with the government of Spain. The silver
mine, — on the report of which he built a pleasant castle in
the air, feeling himself already relieved from the load of debt
and his family provided with ample means, — proved in the
end a bitter delusion ; and it is at least probable that the
Spanish affair turned out no better.
George Penn, the admiral's elder brother, having married
a Catholic lady of Antwerp, settled, as was said in the first
chapter of this history, in the south of Spain as a merchant,
residing chiefly at Seville, Cadiz, Malaga, and San Lucar.
As an English Protestant, his conduct was scrutinized with
jealous closeness by the officers of the Holy Inquisition ; but
he cautiously abstained from giving grounds for offence, par
ticularly in regard to the religious prejudices of the country
in which he lived, so that malice itself was foiled in the at
tempt to draw him into a snare. But as he grew rich with
years of industry and success, the Church, eagerly covetous
of his wealth, became impatient of his blameless life, and
seized him on its own secret warrant. When the familiars of
the Holy Office broke into his house at San Lucar, they com
menced their proceedings by casting him out, body and soul,
from the Christian Church and the fold of God. They seize"
his money and furniture, his plate and pictures, his weari:
apparel and his wife's jewels, his stock of merchandise, "
books, papers, and accounts, and every other particle of pro
perty, down to the nail in the wall. Nothing escaped their
rapacity.2 His wife was carried off he knew not whither ; he
1 Phil. Frieni, xix. 113. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 207.
2 Humble Remonstrance of George Penn. App. to Granville Penn, i. 150.

DU1, zed-i

WILLIAM PENN. 327
himself was dragged to Seville, where he was cast into a loath
some dungeon, only eight feet in diameter, and as dark as the
grave. _ In this living tomb he was left with a loaf of bread
and a jug of water. For seven days no one came near him ;
and then the gaoler simply brought another loaf, and another
jug of water, and disappeared. This course was continued
for three years, — during which time he was worn to a skele
ton. No one was allowed to visit him in his cell, no letter or
message was suffered to be sent out. He had vanished from
the world as completely as if the earth had opened on him in
the night, and then closed over him for ever.
At the end of the first month of his confinement there was
a break in the horrible monotony of his life. The silent and
masked familiars of the Office came into his cell, took him by
the arms, stript him naked, and tied him fast to the iron bars
of his dungeon door ; when one of them, armed with a power
ful whip, made of knotted cords, dealt out fifty merciless lashes.
Every month this flogging was repeated, the new stripes cross
ing and tearing up the former wounds until his body was one
huge festering sore. And all this time he was unable to learn
the name or nature of the crimes laid, truly or falsely, to his
charge ! Three years having elapsed without provoking self-
accusation, the prisoner was brought into the trial-chamber,
and in the presence of the seven judges was accused of various
crimes and heresies — particularly with having tried to seduce
his wife from the Catholic faith. He pleaded not guilty. But
instead of producing witnesses to prove his alleged crimes, the
judges ordered him to be tortured in their presence, until he
confessed the truth of what was charged against him. For a
while his strength and resolution defied the agonies of the rack ;
but his tormentors persevered, and at the end of four hours of
excruciating and accumulating torments, he gave way and
offered to confess any thing they wished.1 Not satisfied with a
confession which by the usages of Spain gave up his whole
property to the Holy Office, the judges put him to the rack
again, and by still more refined and delicate torture forced
from him a terrible oath that he would live and die a Catholic,
and would defend that form of faith at the risk of his life
against every enemy, on pain of being burned to death if found
1 Humble Remonstrance of George Penn. App. to Granville Penn, i. 552.

328 WILLIAM PENN.
recalcitrant. He was then cut down from the rack, placed on
a hurdle and conveyed to his former dungeon.1
As soon as he was sufficiently recovered from his wounds to
walk, he was taken to the great Cathedral of Seville in solemn
procession, accompanied by the seven judges, their households,
by several hundred priests and friars, and by a vast multitude
of people, and in presence of the whole congregation was ex
posed as a signal instance of the great mercy of Holy Inqui
sition. His wife was taken from him and forcibly married to
a good Catholic ; the whole of his estate amounting in plate,
furniture, jewels, goods, and merchandise, to twelve thousand
pounds was confiscated ; the money found in his hands belong
ing to other parties was seized ; and he was finally commanded
to quit the country in three months on pain of death.2 This
last injunction only added insult to injury ; for the judges
well knew, that having seized his estate, the moment he left
the Cathedral he would be arrested for debts which he had no
means of discharging : — the very same day he was thrust into
a common gaol, with little or no hope of ever obtaining a
second release.3
The exhibition in the cathedral being public, several Eng
lish residents in Seville were present, — and the intelligence
of his brother's position soon reached the young admiral on
his station in the Channel. His measures were prompt and
characteristic. Instead of appealing to Cromwell, and setting
the dilatory diplomacy of London and Madrid at work to pro
cure his release, he seized in one of his prizes a Spanish noble
man, Juan de Urbino, then on his way to Flanders, where he
held the post of secretary to the government, stript him naked
like a common prisoner, and treated him to many indignities.
This act, indefensible in itself, spoke home to the Spanish
sovereign — and George Penn was soon released and sent back
to England.4
The death of Cromwell prevented any reparation being
made for his losses and sufferings; but when the restoration
was effected, King Charles appointed him his Envoy at the
Court of Spain, with a view to his proper re-instatement in the
opinion of his old friends in Seville and San Lucar, and to
1 Humble Remonstrance of George Penn. App. to Granville Penn, i. 552.
2 Case presented to Queen Anne. Granville Penn, App. i. 555.
3 Humble Remonstrance of George Penn, i. 550.
4 Granville Penn, i. 231-3.

WILLIAM PENN. 329
add weight to his claim for damages in body and estate. This
act of substantial justice, however, came too late. His aged
flesh had been torn, his limbs dislocated and ill-set, his body
starved for more than three years on bread and water :  and
he died in London only a few weeks after receiving the royal
appointment, leaving his claims as a legacy to the admiral and
his family.1
The wars of Europe had hitherto offered no eligible oppor
tunity for pressing this claim, but a general peace having been
secured by the Treaty of Utrecht, and friendly relations be
tween Spain and England restored, Penn petitioned the Queen
to instruct her Envoy at Madrid to prosecute this claim and
obtain a restitution of the amount originally seized from his
uncle.2 How far this application was successful is uncertain :
it is not known that any part of the confiscated property was
restored. The Queen was particularly favorable to her father's
ancient ward ; and he had staunch friends in the all-powerful
Duke of Marlborough, with whom he had long corresponded,3
— in Sidney Godolphin, who employed him occasionally as a
neutral person in his communication with Tory statesmen,4 —
and in Harley, Earl of Oxford and Mortimer, now the chief
member of the cabinet. But money once swallowed up by the
servants of the Holy Inquisition was like wealth cast into the
sea ; and the court of Spain was too poor and too immoral to
think of redressing a private wrong at its own expense.
The earnest remonstrance addressed to the people of Penn
sylvania produced a sudden revolution in his favor. He re
minded them in simple but touching language of the sleepless
nights and toilsome days, the expense, the load of care, the
personal dangers, the family misfortunes, which he had to en
dure on account of the colony. He contrasted this with their
own case. They had found a noble field for their capital and
industry ; they had got lands, acquired political rights, enjoyed
religious liberties, denied to them in their native land. Yet
not satisfied with the enjoyment of these rights and privileges,
— with the acquisition and increase of their worldly substance,
— they must ungratefully turn the arms which he had supplied
as a defence against foreign oppression, upon himself. He
mournfully recited their past misdeeds — referred to their pre-
1 Case presented to Queen Anne, i. 555. 2 Ibid. i. 556.
3 MS Letters in my own possession. 4 Dartmouth s note, Burnet, vi. 8.
28*

330 WILLIAM PENN.
sent unbecoming and uncivil attitude towards his person and
government. He made to them a fatherly but a final appeal.
The Queen, he told them, was willing to buy the colony and
annex it to the crown : the only point still at issue was the one
affecting their laws and charters. In spite of their ill-returns
he had been faithful to all his promises. He put it to them as
men and as Christians whether they had used him fairly. While
they had grown rich — he had become poor ; while they had ac
quired power — he had lost it ; while they had enjoyed through
his toil and fore-thought, wealth, influence, and freedom — he
had been reduced through their neglect and avarice to seek even
the shelter of a prison. He wished to have an answer to his
long-gathering suspicion that on their side they desired to
sunder the old connection ; if it were so, he concluded, let it
be declared on a fair and full election, and his course would
then be clear.1
The answer was emphatic. When the Assembly met again
after the general election, not a single man of the old and
aggressive chamber was returned. The colony had been
stung with the mild reproaches of its Founder, now in his old
age enduring poverty brought on by his too great liberality:
and the session which ensued, was the most cordial and har
monious, as well as the most useful, in the history of the As
sembly. Penn was highly gratified with this national response f
and the historian dwells with an especial complacency on this
brief interval of calm and rational legislation, — separating, as
it did, the storms which preceded, and the hurricanes wbich
followed, — because it was the last session of the Colonial Par
liament, of the nature and -conduct of which the governor was
perfectly sensible. Before another gathering of the members
took place, his vigorous and active mind was utterly over
thrown.3 His latest action on the colonial legislature, was in behalf
of the poor negroes. Ten years before this period, he had
tried in vain to get a formal recognition of their claims as
human beings ;4 but the question of slavery had made rapid
progress in the interval, thanks to the efforts of his simple and
earnest disciples from Worms and Kirchheim, — and his own
ideas had also undergone a considerable development. He no
longer doubted the injustice, the inhumanity of the trade in
1 Letter to Assembly, April 29, 1710. 2 Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iv. 208.
3 Hannah Penn to Logan, Oct. 13, 1712. 4 Chap. xi. p. 302.

WILLIAM PENN. 331
man. In 1705, only four years after the rejection of his pro
posed act for a better regulation of the morals and marriages
of negroes, the Assembly tried to discourage slavery, without
violence to existing interests, by imposing a duty on their
importation from Africa, or from the neighboring colonies.1
They now, in 1711, passed an act declaring their importation
for the future, under any condition, absolutely prohibited. This
was a great satisfaction to the humane governor. But as soon as
the law reached England, to receive the usual confirmation of
the crown, it was peremptorily cancelled.2 Some years before
this time, the two Houses of Parliament had put a declaration
on the statute book of the realm, to the effect that the trade
in slaves was highly beneficial to the country and the colo
nies ;3 jn the session then sitting, 1711, a committee of the
Commons had recommended the adoption of means to increase
the capture of negroes, that their value might be reduced in
the slave-markets of the plantations. The Privy Council was
scandalized and indignant at the Provincial Assembly, for
daring to propose a measure so hostile to the laws and inter
ests of the parent State !4 The germs, however, of truth,
humanity, and justice, were planted in the colony, and in due
season came the harvest. Heavier duties were laid on im
portations ; petition after petition was sent over to England ;
a disinclination to buy or sell negroes arose ; then a desire
not to have them in possession : — but the Home Government
continued steadily to oppose and cancel every act of colonial
legislation tending to close the abominable system.5 It was
only with the revolt against England, that freedom came to
any part of the black race in America.6
1 Watson, 481.
- 2 Proprietary Papers, vol. ix. Q. 29. State Paper Office.
3 William III. 8 and 10, c. xxvi. 4 Watson, 481.
6 " The British Senate have this fortnight been prod-icing methods to make
more effectual that horrid traffic of selling negroes. "Horace Walpole to Sir
H. Mann, ii. 438. This was written Feb. 25, 1750: only a century ago !
6 Bancroft, on the whole, just to Penn, has fallen into a mistake on the subj ect
of his views on the negro question. He points a moral with the assertion "that
he diedaslaveholder,"ii.403. The authorities cited arethe Mass. Hist. Coll.
xviii. 185, and Watson, 480. The evidence, aletter of T. Matlack, is the same in
both cases. Matlack says in this letter that P .nn left a body-servant (slave)
whose surname was Warder. The assertion can be fully disproved, ihe bill
of ale of this identical negro, Virgil Warder, is fortunately still m existence,
in the possession of George M. Justice, Esq., of Philadelphia From this do
cument it appears that he was sold in 1733, by his master, Joseph Warder,
in whose house he had be.n b »rn, and whose name, according to custom, he

332 WILLIAM PENN.
Penn was in London in the early part of 1712, when he
received the first of those severe shocks of paralysis, which
in a few months laid his reason completely prostrate. For a
few weeks he lay in a lethargic state, almost unconscious of
things around him, the medical attendants constantly at his
side, and all business cerefully kept from him, to prevent men
tal action.1 As he recovered, he began to pay attention to
affairs once more ; for his son William was now almost a
stranger to the family, and the whole weight of his colonial
duties had to be borne by him in person. But the pressure
was too great for his now weakened brain, and a second and
more violent shock was brought on at Bristol, in October of
the same year. From this fresh prostration his recovery was
extremely slow ; but in the meantime his active and able wife
wrote his letters of business, and conducted the affairs of his
government with an energy and wisdom truly masculine.2 At
the end of three months, while yet in a state of great debility
from the severity of the two attacks, he received another and
final shock. His daughter Letitia, married to William Au
brey, was summoned to Ruscombe, to his bed-side, his life
being thought in danger.8 The five children of his second
marriage, were all about him in his sickness ; but the son of
Guli was not there. Since his return from Pennsylvania, and
his public renunciation of his father's religious opinions, he
had been less and less under the paternal roof. Marriage,
and a home blessed with three beautiful and promising child
ren, Guli, Springett, and William,4 produced no happy result
on his erratic and unstable character. He was the great thorn
in his father's side.5 He went into the army, but quitted it
again in disgust. He tried to get into Parliament, but his
opponent bribed higher, and he was defeated at the poll. He
quitted his young wife and her children, leaving them to the
care of strangers, to seek the lowest dregs of pleasure and
bore — to Thomas Penn. This was fifteen years after William Penn's death !
Matlack's memory had evidently failed him : when he wrote the letter (in
1817)hewas nearly ninety, and was trying to relate a conversation which oc-
cured in 1745. The eloquent historian of America will, I am certain, re
move this error from his future editions. See Tyson's Colony of Pennsyl
vania, p. 61-3.
1 Hannah Penn to Logan, Oct. 8, 1712.
2 Logan's Corresp. Phil. Friend, xix. 140-218.
3 Hannah Penn to Logan, Feb. 5, 1713.
4 Genealogy in Penn Gaskell MSS. » Penn to Logan, Feb. 16, 1704.

WILLIAM PENN. 333
dissipation, in the cities of continental Europe. He returned
no more to England. A few years later, his family heard
that he was living in an obscure town in France, worn out
morally and physically, ruined in purse and in constitution.1
They never saw him again. He died in 1720, of consumption,
brought on by his excessess, — but full of penitence, it is said,
for his errors. To his father, the most mournful part of this
story was never known.2
Penn's mental weakness and debility grew upon him day
by day. From the time of his third attack of paralysis, he
was considered in a dying state : — but he lingered on in a
gentle and sweet decline, tasting the happiness of a repose
which he had sighed for many years without attaining. To
the devout it almost seemed like a dispensation of Providence,
that after so long a period of toil and perturbation, his
troubled spirit should have found an interval of rest. Later
on in his long illness, he felt a few more slight shocks of
paralysis ; but they soon passed ; and his bodily health on
the whole continued good. His temper was profoundly gentle
and serene. He took an extraordinary interest in the concerns,
the pleasures, and the amusements of his young children ; and
the abandoned widow of his son and her little ones were sent
for and housed with him at Ruscombe. When the weather
was fine, it was his delight to take them out into the fields and
meadows to gather flowers, and watch them chase butterflies.
He was again a little child. When the weather was unpro-
pitious, he gambolled with them about the rooms of the great
mansion, taking an infantine pleasure in running from suite to
suite,' in looking at the fine furniture, and gazing from the
great windows on the snow or rain in the gardens below. The
large mansion was kept on by his wife, though they could ill
afford the expense, solely to gratify this child-like fancy.
Never before had he felt so happy. He could not speak very
much at one time ; but a constant smile of inward satisfaction
lighted up his face. It was only when he saw his wife looking
anxious, or when, on going suddenly into a room, he found
her writing, that a shade of melancholy thought overcast his
countenance ; and to prevent the evident distress which the
thoughts so suggested brought to his mind, she was forced to
1 Phil. Friend-, xviii. 363-370.
2 Hannah Penn to Logan, June 29, 1720.

334 WILLIAM PENN.
write the many necessary letters to his American agents and
men of business in London, when he was asleep or out of
sight. Though unable to write or dictate a letter, he appeared
to retain a vague and distant sense of trouble as connected
with that voluminous correspondence. In this state he lin
gered for five years. His mind never regained for a single
moment its old vigor and elasticity ; his memory faded more
and more daily ; he forgot the names of his most intimate
friends, even when he perfectly remembered their persons ;
his power of distinct and fluent utterance forsook him ; he
spoke but seldom, and then in broken and abrupt sentences ;
but under all these trials the placid benignity of his character
came out still more strongly and distinctly. A strange at
tractiveness lingered about the ruins of this noble mind.
Palsy had done its work very gently. The intellect was a
mere wreck — the temple of reason lay in confused heaps, —
there a broken column, here a shattered fragment of the
frieze, elsewhere the fallen statue of the god, — but, like the
remains of an ancient edifice seen under the mild radiance of
an Eastern night, it appeared to those who looked on it beau
tiful and soothing even in its desolation.1
The two friends who were most frequently at his side
during this long illness were Thomas Story and Henry Gold
ney. They were neither of them in good health ; but they
considered it a sacred ,duty to be near their dying friend.
Towards the end of July, 1718, Story was at Ruscombe, assist
ing the wife in her American affairs, as he had been several
years in that country, and knew all the parties and passions at
work in Pennsylvania. On the 27th he left the neighborhood
for a short trip to Bristol ; Hannah had taken him in her
coach to Reading, and not suspecting that the catastrophe
was so nigh, she had there parted with him, with messages to
John, her eldest son, then in Bristol with a merchant, learn
ing business. When she returned to the house, Penn was no
worse than he had been for a few days past ; but the next
morning about noon a sudden change occurred ; he was
seized with fits of shivering, lowness of spirits, and other
alarming symptoms. She wrote a hasty letter to recall Story.
, l MS. Letters of Hannah Penn. MS. Testimony of Reading Friends,
March 31, 1719. Logan Corresp. Phil. Friend, xix. 156, 60, 62. Story's
Journal, Dec. 16, 1714 et seq. Besse, i. 150.

WILLIAM PENN. 335
to Ruscombe, but he had gone too far, and her messenger
wastoo slow ; so that she had to face the trials of the day
unaided by a single friend out of her own family.1
The cold shivers were quickly followed by unnatural heats.
The medical^ attendants believed that an intermittent fever
was setting in ; but on the twenty-ninth the patient had
grown so much worse, that they no longer entertained a hope
of his recovery. Hannah then sent a messenger with orders
to ride post haste to Bristol, to summon her son John, now a
youth of three-and-twenty, to his father's bed-side.2
But death rode faster than her messenger. In the first
watches of the summer morning, between two and three, he
seemed to fall asleep. His poor widow watched his lips in
agony and suspense. They never moved again.3
Under the circumstances of his family, it was a fortunate
incident that Penn had made his second and final will a few
months before the last stroke of palsy deprived him of his native
strength of mind, that is while suffering of a slight illness in
London in 1712. By a settlement effected by Guli before
her, death, William, the son now absent from England, was
made heir to the Springett estates in Kent, which estates he
had involved through his riot and extravagance, and had sold
to pay his debts. The power to commit further waste of the
family property was therefore denied him ; but his children,
Guli, Springett, and William, were made co-heirs to the Shan
garry property, and other estates in England, the whole being
at that time worth about fifteen hundred pounds a-year. Be
sides this property, he bequeathed to these children, as well
as to his daughter Letitia, being all the descendants of the
Springett alliance, 10,000 acres each of the best unappropri
ated land in Pennsylvania. The government of his province
he devised to Harley, Earl of Oxford, and William. Earl Paw-
lett, friends of many years standing, in trust, to dispose of
to the crown or otherwise on the best conditions they could
obtain, leaving the money to be applied as he should after
wards direct.1 The soil, rents, and other profits of Pennsyl
vania he bequeathed to twelve trustees, who after laying out
_  j
1 Hannah Penn to Story, July 28, MS.
2 Ibid. July 29. MS. 3 Ibid. Postscript, July 30.
4 MS. copy of will, May 27, 1712. He forgot to give these after-directions
as to the disposal of the money, — an omission which was held to jeopardize
the will, and led to a suit in Chancery. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. i. 222, 3.

336 WILLIAM PENN.
the forty thousand acres for Guli Springett's descendants,
were to sell as much land as would pay off the whole of the
testator's debts, and then divide the remainder among his five
children by Hannah Callowhill, in such proportions as his
widow should think proper. A codicil reserved a pension of
three hundred pounds a-year — a very considerable portion of
the whole — to his widow out of these rents and profits. Fi
nally, Hannah was made his sole executrix.1 To understand
the nature of Penn's ideas in forming this will, it is necessary
to recollect that up to a period within a year or two of its
being drawn up, Pennsylvania had not yielded a shilling a-year
to the family. When the will was made, it is probable that
the return was not five hundred per annum ; so that in leaving
Shangarry and the English property to Guli's children, he
thought he was settling on them the best and securest part of
his estates. He had no conception of the enormous increase
of value which twenty years of peace, following on the Treaty
of Utrecht, would give to Pennsylvania. Hannah's children
became the lord proprietors of the colony, and the younger
branch of his family stood before the world as the more con
spicuous representatives of the Great Founder.2
William Penn was buried at the picturesque^ and secluded
village of Jordans, in Buckinghamshire, on the 5th of August,
1718, by the side of Guli, his first and most beloved wife, and
Springett, his first-born and favorite son. A great concourse
of people followed the bier from Ruscombe to the grave-yard,
consisting of the most eminent members of the Society of
Friends, come from all parts of the country, and the distin
guished of every Christian denomination in the more immediate
neighborhood. When the coffin was lowered into the grave,
a solemn pause of religious silence ensued ; after which the
old and intimate friends of the dead spoke a few fitting words
to the assembly; and the people dispersed to their several
homes subdued and chastened with the thought that a good
and a great man had that day disappeared from the face of
the earth.3
1 MS. copy of will, May 27. 2 Penn Gaskell MSS.
3 MS. Testimony of Reading Friends, March 31, 1719. — Story's Journal,
607. — Besse, i. 150. Nothing could be less imposing than the grave-yard at
Jordans : the meeting house is like an old barn in appearance, and the field
in which the illustrious dead repose is not even decently smoothed. There
are no gravel-walks, no monuments, no mournful yews, no cheerful flowers ;

WILLIAM PENN.

337

there is not even a stone to mark a spot or to record a name. When I visited
it with my friend Granville Penn, Esq., great-grandson of the State-Founder,
on the 11th of January this year, we had some difficulty in determining the
heap under which the great man's ashes lie. Mistakes have occurred before
now : and for many years pious pilgrims were shown the wrong grave ! Sup
posing a to represent the small gate leading into the grave-yard, the follow
ing will give its correct '.opography:

Thomas Ellwood

John Pennington

a.

Penn's
infant chil dren

Mary Ellwood

Mary Frame

Isaac Pennington

..

Springett Penn

Lady Springett

Letty Penn

Guli Penn

..

..

William Penn

Granville Penn, Esq., is disposed to mark the spot by some simple but dur
able record, — a plain stone or block of granite; and if this be not done, the
neglect will only hasten the day on which his ancestor's remains will be car
ried off to America — their proper and inevitable home !

29

338 WILLIAM PENN.
EXTRA CHAPTER.
"THE MACAULAY. CHARGES."
In this supplementary chapter I propose to review the charges
made against William Penn by Whig historians, and adopted,
with novelties and exaggerations of his own, by Mr. Macaulay
in his recent History. The reader who has traced his career
from Tower Hill to the grave-yard at Jordans, may hardly
care to read what follows ; the simple record of his life being
the most emphatic answer that can be given to par^y misre
presentation : but I believe there are some who will look for
a more formal refutation of these charges at my hands, and
for their satisfaction I enter into the several points of contro
versy which have been raised. Every one is conscious of the
animus which pervades the last Whig history. To point out
the capricious likes and dislikes of the historian would be
tedious, and is unnecessary : at the same time I will not deny
that his page is alive with pictures, and that the narrative
possesses a unity and vehemence which render it one of the
most useful additions to our store of historical reading since
the appearance of the Scotch novels.
Mr. Macaulay has written several volumes of history and
criticism. He must be aware that one of the fundamental
laws of Critical Inquiry demands, that when a fact or a cha
racter has stood the tests of time, and in the progress of
opinion has attained to something like a fixed position in the
historical system, the evidence in support of any assault on it
must be strong and free from taint in some fair proportion to
the length of time and strength of opinion on which it rests.
This rule is deeply based in human nature. The fixity of
historical ideas is, in other words, the permanence of truth.
Once a great historical verdict is passed, the noblest instincts
of our being prompt us to guard it as something sacred, — to
be set aside only after scrupulous inquiry and conclusive evi
dence against its justice. The wise man will not rashly disturb
the repose of ages. Our faith in history is akin to religion :
it is a confidence in our power to separate good from evil —

WILLIAM PENN. 339
truth from falsehood, — to preserve in their native purity the
wisdom which serves to guide, and the memories which inspire
the best actions of mankind. Mr. Macaulay will not deny the
reasonableness of a rule growing out of such a feeling. He
would himself exact the strongest facts and the severest logic
from the man who should presume to dispute the laws of
Kepler; and the fullest and most unquestionable evidence
would be required in support of an assertion that Milton was
a debauchee, or Buckingham a man of virtue.
I Will apply this canon to his own method. That I may not
incur the charge of improperly assuming that Penn's reputa
tion was thus historically fixed, I will cite Mr. Macaulay's
own reading of the verdict which more than a century and a
half has ratified. " Rival nations," he says, "have agreed
in canonizing him. England is proud of his name. A great
Commonwealth beyond the Atlantic regards him with a rever
ence similar to that which the Athenians felt for Theseus,
and the Romans for Quirinus. The respectable Society of
which he was a member honors him as an apostle. By pious
men of other persuasions he is generally regarded as a bright
pattern of Christian virtue. Meanwhile admirers of a very
different sort have sounded his praises. The French philoso
phers of the eighteenth century pardoned what they regarded
as his superstitious fancies in consideration of his contempt
for priests, and of his cosmopolitan benevolence, impartially
extended to all races and all creeds. His name has thus be
come, throughout all civilized countries, a synonyme for polity
and philanthropy."1
This general verdict Mr. Macaulay challenges. He admits
that his attempt "requires some courage ;" I think the reader
will agree with him, when the evidence is adduced on which
his challenge is supported. This evidence consists of five as
sertions : — (I.) That his connection with the court in 1684,
while he lived at Kensington, caused his own sect to look
coldly on him and even treat him with obloquy.2 (II.) That
he " extorted money " from the girls of Taunton for the rhaids
of honor.3 (ILL) That he allowed himself to be employed in
the work of seducing Kiffin into a compliance with court de
signs.4 (IV.) That he endeavored to gain William's assent to
1 History of England, vol. i. 507. 2 Ibid. i. 506.
3 Ibid. i. 656. 4 Ibid. ii. 230.

340 WILLIAM PENN.
the promulgated edict suspending the penal laws.1 (V.) That
he "did his best to seduce" the Magdelan collegians "from
the path of right," and was " a broker in simony of a pecu
liarly discreditable kind."2
These allegations I shall examine in the order in which they
occur. I. I quote Mr. Macaulay's own words. " He was soon sur
rounded by flatterers and suppliants. His house at Kensing
ton was sometimes thronged at his hour of rising by more
than two hundred suitors. He paid dear, however, for this
seeming prosperity. Even his own sect looked coldly on him
and requited his services with obloquy."3 His only authority
for this statement i3 Gerard Croese (Hist. Qua. lib. ii. 1695),
a Dutchman, who never was in England in his life, and whose
work the Society of Friends has never recognized. Croese
could have no trustworthy knowledge of the. opinions of the
Quakers, and no right to represent their opinions. The state
ment is not, however, merely unsupported ; but it is positively
contradicted by the Devonshire House Records. These prove
that at this time Penn was in regular attendance at the monthly
meetings, and was elected to the highest offices in the body.4
II. That the reader may understand the Taunton affair, I
must point out the features, with more exactness than Mr.
Macaulay has done, which relate to his charge against Penn.
When Monmouth arrived at Taunton, he found that the town
had pledged itself to the rebellion, by the signal act of having
had wrought at the public expense, a set of royal standards
for him and his army, by the daughters of the principal fami
lies.5 The ceremony of presenting these standards was one
of the most important acts of the rebellion ; at the head of her
procession the schoolmistress carried the emblems of royal
power — the Bible and the sword ;6 — and the royal banner was
presented to the duke as to their sovereign.7 Thereupon
he assumed the name of King — set a price on his uncle's head
— and proclaimed the Parliament then sitting, a treasonable
convention, to be pursued with war and destruction.8 This
1 Hist, of England, ii. 234. 2 Ibid ii. 298.
3 Ibid. vol. i. 506. 4 MS. Records.
6 Oldmixon, i. 702.
6 Mr. Macaulay forgets the sword, because Sir James Macintosh had for
gotten it. Hist. Eng. 32, folio ed. ' Oldmixon, i. 702.
8 Harl. MS. 7006. Though very fond of strong language, Mr. Macaulay

WILLIAM PENN. 341
insanity cost Monmouth his head, and won a gibbet for hun
dreds of his followers. The case of the maidens was not dif
ferent to that of many others. They had taken with their
parents' knowledge, a prominent part in the rebellion ; and
when the day of vengeance came, they stood before the law
guilty of a crime for which the sentence was — death. The
idea of sending them to the scaffold for faults which were
their parents' more than their own, was of course not thought
of; but that the parents might not escape punishment, the
power to pardon them was given by the King to the maids of
honor, — not likely, I must suppose, to be the most exacting
of creditors, — as a sort of fee or bounty.1 It is to be re
membered the sale of pardons was in that age a regular pro
fession; from the King — at least in Charles's time — to the
link-boy or the porter at his gates, almost every man and woman
connected with the court regularly sold his or her influence.
The young girls about the Queen, daughters be it remembered
of the first families in the land, had no proper conception of
the horrid wickedness of this brokerage ; and they requested
the Duke of Somerset to get the affair arranged for them on
the best terms. Somerset wrote to Sir Francis Warre, the
member for Bridgewater, asking him as a personal favor to
see the parents, as being a neighbor and likely to be known
to them, or to name some proper agent who might arrange
the business.2 Warre had evidently no wish to be mixed up
with an affair of this kind ; and he replied that it was already
in proper hands, those of one Bird, the town clerk.3 For
some unknown reason the maids of honor forbade this agent
to proceed in their behalf, and Warre was again applied to ;
but he refused to name a broker on the spot, excusing him
self on the pleas that the schoolmistress was a woman of mean
birth, and the young ladies were acting at the time under her
orders.4 Weeks elapsed and no settlement was made by the
parents ; nor do we know — except by inference — what was
done in the matter at court, until the following letter was
written :
softens these harsh words into simple "illegal assembly!" his evident object
being to make the after-vengeance appear unprovoked.
1 Sunderland's Letter, Feb. 13, 1686.
2 Somerset to Warre, Dec. 12, 1685.
3 Toulmin's Hist, of Taunton, 531. Ed. Savage.
4 Ibid. 532, where the correspondence is printed.
29*

342 WILLIAM PENN.
"Whitehall, Febry. IZth, 1685-6.
"Mr. Penne — Her Maj"" Maids of Honor having acquain
ted me that they designe to employ you and Mr. Walden in
making a composition with the Relations of the Maids of
Taunton for the high Misdemeanor they have been guilty of,
I do at their request hereby let you know that His1 Maj" has
been pleased to give their Fines to the said Maids of Honor,
and therefore recommend it to Mr. Walden and you to make
the most advantageous composition you can in their behalfe.
" I am, Sir, your humble servant,
" Sunderland P."2
To whom was this letter addressed ? Sir James Macintosh,
the first man who brought the letter to light, — for Mr. Ma
caulay has not even the merit of originality in his errors, —
assumed that it was addressed to William Penn ;3 and in this
singular assumption he has been followed by his friend and
admirer. But Macintosh went still further : he not only as
sumed, without warrant, that a letter addressed to a "Mr.
Penne" to engage him in a "scandalous transaction" was
addressed to the governor of Pennsylvania ; but he also dared,
in defiance of every rule of historical criticism, to assume
that William Penn accepted the commission that was so
offered.4 Mr. Macaulay, of course, copied this gross mistake
from Sir James, and gave it the additional currency of his
own volumes. This point 'is particularly noticeable, — that
Mr. Macaulay did not consult the original authorities, but
satisfied himself with merely quoting from the " Macintosh
collection."5 Now this letter was certainly not addressed to
William Penn. (1.) In the first place, it does not bear his
name : he never wrote his name "Penne," nor did others ever
so write it. In the Pennsylvania correspondence, in the
Minutes of the Privy Council, and in the letters of Van Cit
ters, Locke, Lawton, Bailey, Creech and Hunt, and in the
correspondence of his private friends, I have seen it written
hundreds of times, but never once, even by accident, with an
1 In transcribing this letter from the State Papers, Mr. Forster writes
" her" majiy, — a mistake which gives an erroneous countenance to Mr. Ma
caulay's "scandal against Queen" Maria.
2 Sunderland Letter-Book, Feb. 13, 1686. Domestic, various, 629, p. 324.
3 Macintosh, Hist. Eng. 32. * Ibid.
5 Macaulay, i. 656.

WILLIAM PENN. 343
e finaL Least of all men could Sunderland, his intimate ac
quaintance from boyhood, make such a mistake. — (2.) The
letter is highly disrespectful, if supposed to be written to a
man of his rank — a man who had refused a peerage, and who
stood before the court, not only as a personal friend to the
King, but as Lord Proprietor of the largest province in
America ; the more especially would this be the case when it
is considered that the letter was written by the polite and
diplomatic Earl of Sunderland. — (3.) The work to be done
required a low, trafficking agent, who could go down to Taun
ton and stay there until the business was concluded: it is ob
vious that this could not be done by William Penn. — (4.) The
letter is evidently a reply to an offer of service : the maids of
honor " designe to employ " Mr. Penne and Mr. Walden, be
cause, as it seems to me, they had applied for the office.
Malice itself would shrink from the assumption that the go
vernor of Pennsylvania would voluntarily solicit such an em
ployment. — (5.) It is contrary to every thing else that is known
of Penn that he would allow himself, on any pretence, to be
drawn into such a business. — (6.) No mention of it occurs in
any of his letters : I have read some hundreds of them, and
although he was the most communicative of correspondents,
not a trace of his action, or of his having been applied to in
the affair, is to be found. Knowing his epistolary habit, this
fact alone would have satisfied my own mind. — (7.) No mention
has been made of his interference by any news- writer, pam
phleteer, or historian, — though, had he been concerned, the
host of maligners, who rose against him on the flight of James,
could certainly not have failed to point their sarcasms with
the "scandalous transaction" and "extortion of money." —
(8.) No tradition of his appearance on the scene is preserved
in the neighborhood ; when, had he really been the agent em
ployed, it is impossible that so conspicuous a broker could
have faded so soon from local recollection.
But, if William Penn were not the "Mr. Penne" addressed
by Lord Sunderland, and designed by the ladies to be em
ployed in their behalf— who was the man ? A little research
enables me to answer this question. In the Registers of the
Privy Council, I find this entry :

344 WILLIAM PENN. "Nov. 25th, 1687.
"George Penne — Upon reading the petition of George
Penne, gent, setting forth that his family having been great
sufferers for their loyalty, He humbly begs that His Majesty
would be graciously pleased to grant him a patent for the sole
exercising the royal Oake lottery, and licensing all other
games, in his Majesty's plantations in America, for twenty-
one years. His Majesty in Council is pleased to refer this
matter to the consideration of the Rt. Hon. the Lords Com
missioners of the Treasury, and upon what their lordships
report of what is fit to be done therein for the petitioner, His
Majesty will declare his further pleasure."1
This man, whose fitting reward, according to his own esti
mate of the value of his services, was the fief of a gaming
table, was the Mr. Penne. His name is always spelt with the
final e. In the first draft of the foregoing minute, the clerk
had spelt the name George Penn, both in the margin and in
the text, but has filled the final letter in afterwards, as if
prophetically guarding against any confusion of this wretched
fellow with the great governor of Pennsylvania. He was a
low hanger-on about the back-doors of the court, ready for
any dirty work. When pardons were to be bought and sold,
he was a pardon-broker. He was actively engaged in the
Taunton affair ; and among other feats, as I am able to state
on the authority of a family cash-book still preserved, he
obtained 652. from Nathaniel Pinney as the ransom of his
brother Azariah Pinney, one of the transported rebels.2 Mr.
Walden was apparently an agent of the same kind, and equally
and deservedly obscure. For some reason, however, the
" designe to employ" these men miscarried, and the maids of
honor found another agent in the person of Brent,3 the Popish
lawyer, who was a regular pardon-broker,4 and was arrested
on the fiight of King James, as I find by the minutes of
Privy Council.5 This fellow employed as great a rascal as
himself, one Crane of Bridgewater, as his sub-agent, and be
tween them they settled the business, as Oldmixon relates.6
1 Council Registers, J. i. 540. Privy Council Office.
2 Cash Book of Nathanial Pinney. 3 Oldmixon, ii. 708.
4 Clarendon's Diary, March 9, 1688. — Secret Services of Charles II. and
James II. (about to be published by the Camden Society), 133, 141, 161, 180,
7, 196, 7, 205.— Oldmixon, ii. 708.
6 Council Registers, W. R. i. 24. 6 Oldmixon, ii. 708.

WILLIAM PENN. 345
Having cleared Penn from this foul and unfounded charge,
let me say a word or two in behalf of the maids of honor.
Mr. Macaulay says they " were at last forced to be content
with less than a third" of 7,0002. How much less ? Is there
any evidence that they received a single guinea ? Dr. Toul-
min collected his information from the families of the girls of
Taunton, at a time when the children of the little rebels might
have been still alive, and he says merely that some of the
parents paid as much as fifty or a hundred pounds.1 Some of
them ? Oldmixon tells us that the number of the scholars
was twenty.2 How many of twenty could be called some ?
Take it at ten ; if pardons were purchased for ten, five at 502.
and five at 1002. this would but yield 7502. altogether. Besides
which Oldmixon, who had peculiar means of learning the real
facts, says the agent and his subordinate paid themselves
bountifully out of the money.3 I know of no proof that the
maids of honor got a shilling.
While on this digression, I may add a remark in behalf of
another much-abused lady. The historian counts up with
virtuous indignation the number of transported insurgents
which the Queen, Maria d'Este, selected for her private por
tion of the spoil, and talks of "the thousand pounds" which
she made by " her unprincely greediness and her unwomanly
cruelty." Now we not only do not know how much, if any
thing at all, the Queen put into her pocket ; but we do not
know for certain that she received for herself a single trans
port. We have no good reason to believe that she ever dreamt
of such a thing. The only ground for this gross charge
against the honor of a woman and a foreigner, is a letter of
Sunderland to Lord Jeffreys — which Mr. Macaulay, as usual,
has copied from the Macintosh Collection" — in which that
statesman, after giving a list of grants of prisoners to various
persons about the court, adds in a postscript — " The Queen
has asked for a hundred more of the rebels who are to be
transported ; as soon as I know for whom, you shall hear
from me again."4 It is clear enough from Sunderland's words
that she did not ask them for herself. It is equally clear that
Mr. Macaulay's estimate of " the profits she cleared on the
cargo, after making large allowance for those who died of
1 Hist, of Taunton, 532. 2 Oldmixon, ii. 702. 3 Ibid. ii. 708.
4 Sunderland Letter Book, Sept. 14, 1685. State Paper Office.

846 WILLIAM PENN.
hunger and fever during the passage," is a mere invention.
The misfortunes of this woman should have shielded her from
injustice. III. Towards the close of his reign, when the churchmen
openly repudiated their own doctrine of passive obedience,
James became anxious to secure the adhesion of his Dissent
ing subjects; and among other leading men, he selected Penn's
old opponent,1 William Kiffin, the Baptist, for a city magis
tracy. But two of Kiffin's grandsons had been taken and
executed in the Western rebellion, and it was doubted whether
the old man would comply with the wishes of the court. At
this point Mr. Macaulay introduces Penn. " The heartless
and venal sycophants of Whitehall, judging by themselves,
thought that the old man would be easily propitiated by an
alderman's gown, and by some compensation in money, for
the property which his grandsons had forfeited. Penn was
employed in the work of seduction, but to no purpose." Now,
there is not the slightest foundation in history for this state
ment. Mr. Macaulay here asserts that Penn was " employed"
by the "heartless and venal sycophants" of the court, to
seduce Kiffin into an acceptance of the alderman's gown, —
and that he failed. The passage means this, or it means no
thing. It will be allowed that on such a point Kiffin himself
must be the best authority : in his autobiography, lately pub
lished from the original manuscript, he says, — " In a little
after, a great temptation attended me, which was a commission
from the King, to be one of the aldermen of the city of Lon
don ; which, as soon as I heard of it, I used all the diligence I
could, to be excused, both by some lords near the King, and also
by Sir Nicholas. Butler and Mr. Penn. But it was all in vain."3
This is just the reverse of what Mr. Macaulay states. Penn
did not go to Kiffin ; Kiffin went to Penn. Instead of being
employed in the work of seduction, he was engaged in the
task of intercession. Mr. Macaulay makes Kiffin refuse the
magistracy: Kiffin says he accepted it: — "The next court-
day I came to the court, and took upon me the office of alder
man."4 IV. A little attention to dates will soon dispose of the
fourth charge against Penn. Mr. Macaulay writes — "All
1 See Chap. iv. p. 125. 2 Macaulay, ii. 230.
3 Kiffin's Mem. 85. Ed. by Orme, 1823. 4 Ibid. 87.

WILLIAM PENN. 347
, men were anxious to know what he [the Prince of. Orange]
thought of the Declaration of Indulgence .... Penn
sent copious disquisitions to the Hague, and even went thither
in the hope that his eloquence, of which he had a high opinion,
would prove irresistible." Now, Penn returned from Ger
many in the autumn of 1686, 1 and the Declaration was not
issued until April, 1687. After 1686, he never went to the
Dutch capital. There is no evidence, even, that Penn sent
over "copious disquisitions;" Burnet, Mr. Macaulay's au
thority, says not a word on such a subject.2 When Penn was
at the Hague, in the summer of 1686, the subject that was
under discussion related to the Tests, not the Indulgence.
The Declaration was unthought of at that time ; — Burnet is
very clear on this point.3 But there is other proof that
Mr. Macaulay's guess-work is wrong. In November, 1686,
five months before the Declaration was issued, Van Citters
reported to his correspondent, the substance of the conversa
tions between Penn and the Prince, as it was then known in
court circles in London ; and in that report, no mention
whatever is made of the Declaration.4
V. In the ninth chapter of the preceding memoir, I have
given the true history of Penn's connection with the affair of
Magdalen College. In this place I shall content myself with
a special refutation of Mr. Macaulay's errors ; first quoting
his material passages, and numbering them for separate remark.
(1) " Penn was at Chester, on a pastoral tour. His popularity
and authority among his brethren had greatly declined (2)
since he had become a tool of the King and the Jesuits."
. . . (3) "Perhaps the College might still be terrified,
caressed, or bribed into submission. The agency of Penn was
employed." ... (4) " The courtly Quaker, therefore,
did his best to seduce the college from the path of right."
. . . (5) " To such a degree had his manners been cor
rupted by evil communications, and his understanding ob
scured by inordinate zeal for a single object, that he did not
scruple to become a broker in simony of a peculiarly discredit
able kind, and to use a bishopric as a bait to tempt a divine
to perjury." These assertions may be looked at one by one, as
1 One of his MS. Letters to Harrison, now in my possession, is dated Lon
don Sept. 23, 1686. 2 Burnet, iii. 140, 1. ' Ibid.
4 Van Citters' MS. Corresp. Nov. 26, 1686. Westminster.

348 WILLIAM PENN.
they stand here. (1) Had Penn become in 1687 — the date of
Mr. Macaulay's authority1 — unpopular and powerless with his
brethren ? There is, fortunately, better evidence than that
of an agent of Louis Quatorze :2 the evidence of the " breth
ren" themselves. The Records at Devonshire House prove
that his influence was high as ever in the society of Friends ;
he was elected to speak their sentiments ; he served their
most important offices ; was in accord with Fox, Crisp, and
the other leaders ;3 and at the very moment when Mr. Macau
lay introduces him with this disparaging comment, he was on
a religious tour, one of the most popular and brilliant of his
public ministry. To this may be added the testimony of
Penn himself; in one of his letters he expressly says, that it
is at the joint request of the Society of Friends, and of per
sons in authority, that he is engaged in the business of the
nation.4 (2) Was he ever " a tool of the King and of the
Jesuits ?" No man, I venture to believe, will entertain a
doubt on this point, after reading the ninth chapter of these
memoirs, and the authorities there cited. Family experiences
had given him an early abhorrence of. the persecuting spirit
of the Roman Church.5 In his youth he had written against
the errors of Popery, and in his riper age had pointed many
a sentence with honest indignation at Jesuit morals.6
Now that the Jesuits had acquired power at court, he con
tinually hazarded his influence by urging the King to banish
them from the royal presence. Citters, Johnstone, and Claren
don, all testify clearly to this effect. The Dutch diplomatist
says, " Penn has had a long interview with the King, and
has, he thinks, shown to the King that Parliament will not
consent to a revocation of the Test and Penal Laws — and
that he never will get a ^Parliament to his mind — so long as
he will not adopt moderate councils, and drive away from hi3
presence the immoderate Jesuits, and other Papists who sur
round him daily, and whose ultra councils he now follows."7
Johnstone says expressly, that Penn was against the order
commanding the Declaration to be read in the churches.s
1 Bonrepaux to Seignelay, Sep. 12, 22, 1687. 2 Ibid. Sept. 12, 1687.
3 MS. Minutes of Quarterly Meetings.
4 MS. letter to Harrison (undated, but placed by Harrison about or little
before, Sept. 23.) 6See chap. xii. p. 328.
6 Caveat against Popery. Fruits of Solitude.
¦ Van Citters' MS. Letters, July 29, 1687.
8 Johnstone Corresp. May 23, 1688. Macintosh, 241, n.

WILLIAM PENN. 349
Clarendon says in his Diary that Penn "labored to thwart
the Jesuitical influence that predominated."1 On what au
thority, then, does Mr. Macaulay make his assertion ? Simply
on his own ! Was he a tool of the King ? The idea is absurd.
He never sacrificed a point to the humor of James ; but he
often crossed that humor, and his political action was always
against the court. Not to go so far back as the days of
Sidney, when, according to Barillon, he divided the leadership
of the most advanced body of Reformers with that great Re
publican,2 — if his private friendship was given to Sunderland,
Halifax, and Rochester,3 his political sympathy was always
with the more liberal men of the opposition.4 The supporters
of Monmouth looked to him and half a dozen others to bring
over the American colonies to the cause of liberty and Pro
testantism.5 Though he was trusted by James, he was always
an object of suspicion to his government.6 He plainly told
the King of his errors ; he advised him to expel the Jesuits
from Whitehall ; not to trust to his prerogative, but to meet
his Parliament with wise and just proposals ;7 not to insist on
having the Declaration read by the clergy ;8 not to commit
the seven Prelates to the Tower. And when that impolitic
act had been committed, he advised him to take the gracious
opportunity afforded by the birth of a Prince of Wales to set
them at liberty, and still further to signalize the occasion by
a general amnesty to the exiles in Holland.9 He counselled
him to submit to the will of the nation, and to be content with
a simple toleration of his religion.10 Can this man be called
a " tool" of the King ? Let Mr. Macaulay show another man
in that age with equal boldness and integrity. He braved
the royal frowns again and again in the cause of mercy. He
obtained a pardon for Locke, another for Trenchard, another
for Aaron Smith— all of them men who had deeply offended

1 Clarendon Diary, June 23, 1688.
2 Barillon to Louis, Dalrymple, i. 357.
3 Penn's Letter to Sunderland, June 8, 1684.
4 Fragments of an Apology, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. m. Part ii. 236.
Letter to Popple, Oct. 24, 1688. King's Life of Locke, i. 292. Lawton s
Memoir. Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 220
6 Wade's Confession, Harl. MSS. 6845.
6 Penn to Shrewsbury, March 7, 1689. „ ,,
• Citters' MS. Letter, July 29. . . 8 Johnstone, May 23.
9 Lawton, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii. Part ii. 230, 1.
10 Collected Works, ii. 771-3. 30

350 WILLIAM PENN.
James.1 He compelled him to listen to the councils of the
leading Whigs ; and in the Oxford affair told him he was in
the wrong in plainer language than the usages of speech
would permit to ordinary men.2 This man a tool ! — (3) Was
the agency of Penn employed to terrify, caress, or bribe the
collegians into submission ? There is not even a shadow of
authority for this most uncharitable assertion. Penn was
alarmed at the quarrel, fearing it might lead, through the
combined obstinacy of the King and Fellows, to a loss of the
College Charter, and a transfer of its immense revenues to
the Papists — and he interposed his good offices to heal the
wound. Instead of looking on him as a person "employed"
to terrify, caress, or bribe them into submission, we have the
evidence of Dr. Bailey, one of the inculpated Fellows, and
that of Thomas Creech, a student,- that the collegians regarded
him as a friend and mediator "in their behalf."3 — (4) Did
he " do his best to seduce the college from the path of right ?"
Mr. Macaulay's knowledge of the proceeding appears to be
derived from "Wilmot's Life of Hough"4 — though he does
not quote it — and from the " State Trials."5 To these
sources of information must be added the MS. letters of Dr.
Sykes and Mr. Creech, preserved in the Bodleian Library at
Oxford, and the MS. papers of George Hunt, now in the pos
session of the President of Magdalen College. Hunt was one
of the Fellows, and was present at the interview with Penn ;
Sykes and Creech were both of them well informed as to all
the incidents which occurred ; yet so far is either he, or are
they, from saying that he attempted to " seduce them from
the path of right," that they agree exactly in the emphatic
and conclusive statement, that, after hearing their reasons,
he agreed with them that they were justified in their resist
ance. He even went further, he became their champion. In
their presence he wrote a manly English letter to his sove
reign, in which he told him in very plain terms — " that their
case was hard; that in their circumstances they could not
yield without a breach of their oaths ; and that such mandates
were a force on conscience, and not agreeable to the King's
' Life of Locke, i. 292.— Lawton's Memoirs, Penn. Hist. Soc. Mem. iii.
Part ii.
2 Lawton's Mem. Hough's Letter, Oct. 9, 1688.
3 Creech to Charlett, MS. Sept. 6.— Bailey's Letter, Oct. 3, 1688.
4 Quarto, 1812. s yol. xij.

WILLIAM PENN. 351
other gracious indulgences."1 How singularly unfortunate is
Mr. Macaulay m his authorities! "Penn," he says "ex
horted the Fellows not to rely on the goodness of their'cause,
but to submit, or at least to temporize." I defy Mr. Macau
lay to give any trustworthy authority for this macchiavellian
council. He wisely abstains from quoting his author; but
the curious reader will find it in the twelfth volume of the
"State Trials," in the shape of an anonymous letter which
was addressed by some unknown person, during the heat of
the dispute, to Dr. Bailey, one ofthe Fellows. Bailey, "from
the charitable purpose" of the letter, thought it might have
come from Penn ;2 and to ascertain the fact, wrote a reply to
Penn without signing his name, saying, that if he were his
anonymous correspondent, he would know how to address his
answer. Of course no reply came. No man conversant with
Penn's habit of writing could for an instant mistake it for
his; — it commences, "Sir," — and the second person plural
is used throughout.3 Nor is this all the evidence against its
being written by Penn. The contemporary account of these
proceedings has written, in Hunt's hand, on the margin of
this letter, the words—" This letter Mr. Penn disowned."4
Yet it is on the assumption that Penn actually wrote this
thrice-proven spurious epistle, that Mr. Macaulay has built
his most serious accusation ! What would be said of such evi
dence in a court of justice ? Surely the memories of the
illustrious dead are not less precious than the property of the
living ! Let me say, to the credit of Macintosh, that he makes
no charge against Penn in this Oxford business. Here Mr.
Macaulay is perfectly original. (5) Did Penn deal " in simony
of a particularly disreputable kind, and use a bishopric as a
bait to tempt a divine to perjury?" Mr. Macaulay continues
to represent him as employed by the court ; and having, as
he says, failed in his attempt to terrify the collegians into
obedience, he " then tried a gentler tone. He had an inter
view with Hough, and with some of the Fellows, and after
many professions of sympathy and friendship, began to hint
at a compromise. ... ' How should you like,' said Penn,
"to see Dr. Hough Bishop of Oxford?'" Hereupon follows
the indignation about simony and perjury.
1 MS. Letters to Dr. Charlett, Sept. 6, 7, 9, 1688. Life of Hough, 15.
2 Bailey's Letter, Oct. 3.
3 See the spurious Letter in State Trials, vol. xii. 4 Hunt MSS.

352 WILLIAM PENN.
Now let us see what is really known about this interview.
Dr. Hough, its chief subject, wrote on the evening of the day
on which it took place a letter to his cousin, in which he re
cited the principal heads of the discourse, — and this account,
from one too deeply interested to be impartial, and too much
excited to remember any thing but what especially concerned
his own prospects and position, is unfortunately the only ex
isting authority.1 Hunt was not present at this interview,
and no account of it is preserved in the Magdalen College
MSS. Holden's MS. letters in the same library commence
posterior to the affair of Penn ; and Baron Jenner's MS. ac
count of the Visitation is not to be found. But let us take
the authority we have, imperfect though it be, and see what
matter can be drawn from it in support of the accusation.
What says Hough? In the outset, instead of Penn being
" employed," as Mr. Macaulay continues to misrepresent him,
to solicit the Fellows, it appears that the Fellows had sent a
deputation to him, consisting of Hough and the principal
members of the college.2 Their conversation lasted three
hours ; the substance of it I have given in the text of the ninth
chapter of the memoir : Mr. Macaulay's version of it is in
exact in all its essential particulars. "He then tried a gentler
tone." The historian does not seem to know that two inter
views took place, one at Oxford, the other at Windsor, with
six weeks of an interval ; there is no evidence except the
spurious letter, that he ever used other than a gentle tone.
He " began to hint at a compromise :" the words of Hough are
— " I thank God he did not so much as offer at any proposal
by way of accommodation."3 How reconcile such statements !
Now let us hear what Hough says of the simony and perjury.
Penn, who, according to Swift, "spoke agreeably and with
spirit,"4 was always more or less facetious in conversation.
Like his father, he was fond of a joke, and had that delight in
drollery which belongs to the highest natures.5 In this very
conversation we see how he made his rhetoric dance —
" Christ Church is a noble structure, University is a plea
sant place, and Magdalen College is a comely building."
Hough, though not the most quick-witted of men, saw that he
1 Hough's Letter, Oct. 9, " at night." 2 Wilmot's Life of Hough, 22.
3 Hough's Letter, Oct. 9. 4 Swift's note to Burnet, iii. 140.
5 MS. Testimonial of Reading Quakers.

WILLIAM PENN. 353
"had a mind to droll upon us."1 Stolid and heavy, Plough no
doubt reported the conversation honestly, so far as he could
remember and understand it. To quote his words  " Once
he said, smiling, If the Bishop of Oxford die, Dr. Hough
may be made Bishop. What think you of that, gentlemen ?"
Cradock one of the Fellows present, took up the tone of plea
santry, and replied, " they should be heartily glad of it — for
it would do very well with the presidency." Does any one
doubt that this was a mere pleasantry ? Observe, Penn had no
commission to treat with the Fellows, — that he met them at
their own request, to consider how he could serve their inter
ests. That Cradock thought it a joke .is evident from his re
tort. Had the suggestion of the bishopric been in earnest, it
must have been offered on condition of Hough giving up the
presidency of his college — that being the point at issue. In
such a case, to talk of the combination of the two offices would
have been insulting and absurd. Even Hough himself, the
least jocular of men, understood this remark as a mere plea
santry, for he instantly adds, — " But, I told him, seriously, I
had no ambition."2 And yet this innocent mirth, accepted
and understood as such, by all the parties concerned, after a
lapse of nearly two centuries, is revived and tortured into a
ground for one of the foulest accusations ever brought against
an historical reputation ! Is this English History ?
1 Hough's Letter, Oct. 9. 2 Ibid.

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in presenting this new and cheaper edition, the publishers would
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from the time the expedition reached Lake Tiberias till its depar
ture from Jerusalem, embracing all the explorations upon the river
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maps of the former edition have been reduced in one, preserv
ing, however, all the more important features of the country de
scribed. In its present form, therefore, afforded at about one-third
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admirably adapted for parlor or fireside reading, or for district
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In one very large and handsome octavo volume,
With Twenty-eight beautiful Plates, and Two Maps.
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read extensively and valued, both in this and other countries.— Lady's Book, Aug. 1849.
When, however,he fairly "gets under weigh," every page possesses interest, and
we follow him with eagerness in his perilous and tortuous voyage down the Jordan,
and his explorations of the mysterious sea, upon which the curse of the Almighty
visiblv rests His privations, toils, and dangers were numerous, but were rewarded
by success where all others had failed. He has contributed materially to our know
ledge of srrintural Geography, particularly in his charts ofthe Jordan and Dead bea,
wnfchLfXexplorea If our readers wish to know all he has done, they must
procure aid read his book ; we cannot give even an outline of it We can only add
that the publishers have done their full Suty in their department, and the maps and
plates are all that eould be desired.— Presbyterian.
*

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MEMOIRS GF THE LIFE OF WILLIAM WIRT.
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The whole of Mr. Win's Papers, Correspondence, Diaries, &c, having been placed
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that is new and interesiing relative to the political history of the times, as well as to
the private life of Mr. Wirt
The exceedingly favorable manner in which this work has been everywhere
received, having rapidly exhausted the first edition, the publishers have pleasure in
presenting a second, revised, in a smaller form and at a lower price. In so doing,
they have been desirous to meet the wishes of many with whom its former cost was
an objection. In its present neat and convenient form, the work is eminently lilted
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fire-side where there is an appreciation ofthe kindliness and manliness, the intellect
and the affection, the wit and liveliness which rendered William Wirtatonce so emi
nent in the world, so brilliant in society, and so loving and loved in the retirementof
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private and public library, and in all collections of books for ihe use of schools and
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accomplished by industry and resolution, than the life of William Wirt, as uncon
sciously related by himself in these volumes.
The approbaiion bestowed upon this work by the press has been universal. From
among numerous recommendatory notices, the publishers submit a few.
One ofthe most valuable books ofthe season, and certainly one of the most enter
taining works ever published in this country. Mr. Kennedy is admirably qualified
for the preparation of such a work, and has evidently had access to a great vanely of
useful material. The w.prk is one .which should be inlhe hands of every young man
in the country. Its intrinsic interest will secure it a veTy general popularity. — JV. Y.
Courier and Enquirer.
The fascinating letters of Mr. Wirt, one ofthe most brilliant and agreeable men of
the day, in themselves furnish a rich fund of instruction and enjoyment.— THichnCd Inq.
This work has been looked for with much interest by the public, and will not disap
point the high expectations justly based upon the well-known talents of the author,
and the abundant materials left by the distinguished orator and jurist, to which he has
had free access. — Baltimore American.
The style is at once vigorous and fascinating, and the interest of the most absorbing
character.— Philadelphia Inquirer.
Mr. Kennedy is one of the very finest of American writers. He never touches a
subject lhat he does not adorn— and it is fortunate for the memory of Mr. Wirt lhat the
history of his life has fallen inlo such hands. The publishers have performed their
task m excellent style. The paper and the type are good, and the whole getting up is
admirable. — Richmond Wfiig.
Mr. Kennedy has indeed given us two delightful and instructive volumes. No
part of what he has thus brought together could nave been omitted without detriment
to the perfect picture of the great man who held for twelve years the important office
of Atiorney-General of these United Stales. Inwoven with the biographical anec
dotes, letters, and speeches, are elucidatory threads that guide the reader to a betier
understanding of various matters of history, and give a general and permanent value
to the work. A fine portrait is prefixed to the first volume, and a curious fac-simile of
a letter from John Adams is given in the second. — N. Y. Commercial Advertiser.
Mr. Kennedy has made a couple of very interesting volumes. He has not disap
pointed the expectations of those who know his powers, and had enjoyed the spirit,
grace, and humor of his previous writings. He has properly adopied the plan of
making Mr. Wirt speak for himself, wheneverlhis was possible. We have, accord
ingly, a large body of his letters, showing him in every possible altitude, during almost
every period ofhis life, and always in a manner to satisfy us ofthe equal goodness of
his heart and the clear manliness ofhis intellect. The lawyer, in particular, will be
apl to peruse these pages with a sensible sympathy. They illustrate the progress of
thousands, through a long and painful struggle— from poverly, through adversity, and
finally, into renown and excellence. They furnish many admirable examples, as
well as interesting history .-^Charleston Mercury.

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JOHNSTON'S PHYSIC Al ATLAS.
THE PHYSICAL ATLAS
OF NATURAL PHENOMENA.
FOR THE USE OF COLLEGES, ACADEMIES, AND FAMILIES.
BY ALEXANDEK KEITH JOHNSTON, F.K. G. S., F. G. S.
In one large volume, imperial quarto, handsomely bound,
With Twenty-six Plates, Engraved and Colored in the best style.
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This splendid volume will fill a void long felt in this country, where no
work has been attainable presenting the results of the important science of
Physical Geography in a distinct and tangible form. The list of plates sub
joined will show both the design of the work and the manner in which its
carrying out has been attempted. The reputation of the author, and the
universal approbation with which his Atlas has been received, are sufficient
guarantees that no care has been spared to render the book complete and
trustworthy. The engraving, printing, and coloring will all be found of the
best and most accurate description.
As but a small edition has been prepared, the publishers request all who
may desire to procure copies of the work to send orders through their book
sellers without delay. LIST OF PLATES. METEOROLOGY.
1. Humboldt's System of Isothermal Lines.
2. Geographical- Distribution of the Cur
rents of Air.
3. Hyelographic or Rain Map of the
World.
4. Hyetographic or Rain Map of Europe.
NATURAL HISTORY.
1. Geographical Distribution of Plants.
2. Geographical Distribution of the Culti
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3. Geographical Distribution of Quadru-
mana, Edentata, Marsupialia, and
Pachydermata.
4. Geographical Distribution of Carnivorn.
5. Geographical Distribution of Rodeima
and Ruminantia.
6. Geographical Distribution of Birds.
7. Geographical Distribution of Reptiles
8. Ethnographic Map ofthe World.
9. Ethnographic Map of Great Britain
and Ireland.
The intention of this work is to exhibit, in a popular and attractive form,
the resuks of the researches of naturalists and philosophers in all the more
mn^nt branches of Natural Science. Its study requires no previous tra n-
^r for whUe facts a„d deductions are stated according to the strictest rules
A- Xinouirv they are by an ingenious application of colors, signs,
S^S"^ '"'a man/er so simpTe and striking as to render
^ TeTst .rm^in^coTnf/y^hrpHnciples of graphic representation
F£r nnoUed to he delineation of the most important facts of external
aheenoemenaP Simple but significant symbolical signs have been introduced

GEOLOGY.
1. Geological Structure ofthe Globe.
2. Mountain Chains of Europe and Asia.
3. Mountain Chains of America
4. Illustration of the Glacier System of
the Alps. (Mont Blanc.)
5. Phenomena of -Volcanic Action.
Pateonlological and Geological Map of
the British Islands. (Frontispiece.)
HYDROGRAPHY.
1. Physical Chart of the Atlantic Ocean.
2. Physical Chart ofthe Indian Ocean.
3. Physical Chart of the Pacific Ocean or
Great Sea.
4 Tidal Chart ofthe British Seas.
5 The River Systems of Europe and
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6. The River Systems of America.
Tidal Chart ofthe World.

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JOHNSTON'S PHYSICAL ATLAS— (Continued.)
to an extent, and with an effect, hitherto never contemplated. The contents
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a conciseness, precision, completeness, and promptitude of application alto
gether unattainable by any other agency.
The elegant substitute of linear delineation registers the most complicated
results in the most perspicuous form, affords inexhaustible facilities for record
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in such a work, accuracy and truth are the first requisites, in order that it
may be a guide to the naturalist in investigating the more philosophical de
partments of science, and to the inquirer in showing what has already been
done, and what remains to be accomplished, in perhaps the most universally
interesting and attractive branch of human knowledge.
From among a vast number of recommendatory notices, the publishers sub
mit the following : —
We have thus rapidly run through the contents of the Atlas to show its compre
hensiveness and philosophic arrangement. Of its execution, no praise would be in
excess. The maps are from the original plates, and these are beautifully finished,
and the coloring has been laid on with the utmost nicely and care. The size is an
imperial quarto, and the accompanying text embraces a vast amount of details that
the imagination is called on to fasten and associate with the maps. The enterprise
and fine taste ofthe American publishers will, we hope, he rewarded by an extensive
sale of this most admirable work. No school-room and uo family should be without
the Physical Atlas.
In the hands of a judicious teacher, or head of a family, information of the most
varied nature in all departments of science and natural history can be introduced and
commented on, in reference to ils geographical bearing, while the materials of the
text and the Atlas may be commented on to any desired extent. Such works give
attractiveness to knowledge, and stimulate to energy the mind ofthe young; while in
the beauty, harmony, and intermediate reactions of nature thus exhibited, the facili
ties of imagination and judgment find room for equal exercise and renewed delight.
It is ihe lively picture and representation of our planet. — New York Literary World,
March 9, 1850.
The book before us is, in short, a graphic encyclopaedia of the sciences— an atlas
of human knowledge done into maps. It exemplifies the truth which it expresses—
that he who runs may read. The Thermal Laws of Leslie it enunciates by a bent line
running across a map of Europe; the abstract researches of Gauss it embodies in a
few parallel curves winding over a section ofthe globe; a formula of Laplace it
melts down to a little path of mezzotint shadow ; a problem ofthe transcendental ana
lysis, which covers pages with definite integrals, it makes plain to the eye by a little
stippling and hatching on a given degree of longitude! All possible relations of
time and space, heat and cold, wet and dry, frost and snow, volcano and slorm, cur
rent and tide, plant and beast, race and religion, attraction and repulsion, glacier and
avalanche, fossil and mammoth, river and mountain, mine and forest, air and cloud,
and sea and sky— all in the earth, and under the earlh, and on the earth, and above
the earth, that the heart of man has conceived or his head understood— are brought to
gether by a marvellous microcosm, and planted on these little sheets of paper— thus
making themselves clear to every eye. In short, we have a summary of all the cross-
questions of Nature for twenty centuries— and all the answers of Nature herself set
down and speaking to us voluminous system dans un mot  Mr. Johnston
is well known as a geographer of great accuracy and research ; and it ir certain that
this work will add to his reputation; for it is beautifully engraved, and accompanied
with explanatory and tabular letterpress of great value.— London Athenceum

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SOMERVILLE'S PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY.
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PHYSICAL "GEOGRAPHY.
BY MARY SOMERVILLE,
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SECOND AMERICAN EDITION,
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from the fact, that not only has the size of the page been increased, but the volume
itself enlarged by over one hundred and fifty pages. At the same time, the price
has not been increased.
While reading this work, we could not help thinking how interesting, as well as
useful, geography as a branch of education might be made in our schools. In many of
them, however, this is not accomplished. It is to be hoped that this defect will be
remedied ; and that in all our educational institutions Geography will soon be laught
in the proper way. Mrs. Somerville's work may, in this respect, be pointed to as a
model. — Tali's Edinburgh Magazine.
Our praise comes lagging in the rear, and is well-nigh superfluous. But we are
anxious to recommend to our youth the enlarged method of studying geography which
her present work demonstrates to be as captivating as it is instructive. NowherS,
except in her own previous work, "The Connection ofthe Physical Sciences," is there
tobe found so large a store of well-selected information so lucidly set forth. In sur
veying and grouping together whatever has been seen by the eyes of others, or delect
ed by their laborious investigations, she is not surpassed by anyone. We have no
obscurities other than what the imperfect slate of science itself involves her in ; no
dissertations which are felt to interrupt or delay. She strings her beads distinct and
close together. With quiet perspicacity she seizes at once whatever is most interest
ing and most captivating in her subject. Therefore it is we are for the book ; and we
hold such presents as Mrs. Somerville has bestowed upon the public, to be of incalcu
lable value, disseminating more sound information than all the literary and scientific
institutions will accomplish in a whole cycle of their existence.— Blacfaoood's Mag.
HERVEY'S COURT OF GEORGE II.
MEMOIRS OF THE REIGN~0F GEORGE THE SECOND,
From his Accession to the Death of Queen Caroline.
BY JOHN LORD HERVEY.
EDITED, FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT, AT ICKWORTH,
By the Right Hon. JOHN WILSON CROKER, LL. D., F. R. S., &c.
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PARDOE'S FRANCIS TIJE FIRST.— Now Ready.
THE TORT AND REIGN~0F FRANCIS THE FIRST,
KING OF FRANCE.
RY MISS PARDOE,
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6 LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS.
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With this, we take leave ofthis remarkable work, which we hold to be, beyond a
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can descend from the advancement of knowledge to care for its diifusion, that their
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the text-books ofthe learner. — Athen&um.
Probably no book ever written upon any seiencp has been found to embrace with
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ASPECTS OF MATURE,
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BY JOHN PAGET, ESQ.
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WALPOLE'S LETTERS.
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LF.A & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Now Complete.— STRICKLAND'S QUEENS OF ENGLAND.
NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION.
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FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST.
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ries, suitable for presents, prizes, &c.
The publishers have great pleasure in presenting to the public this work in a
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of history and desultory reader.
Those who have been waiting its completion can now obtain it, forming a handsome
set, twelve' volumes in six, in various styles of binding.
A few copies still on hand of the Duodecimo Edition. Vol. I. — Contains
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Boulogne, and Eleanor of Aquitaine. Vol. II. — Berengaria of Navarre, Isa
bella of Angouleme, Eleanor of Provence, Eleanor of Castile, Marguerite of
France, Isabella of France, Philippa of Hainault, and Anne of Bohemia.
Vol. III. — Isabella of Valois, Joanna of Navarre, Katharine of Valois, Marga
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—Mary of Mod en a. Vol. X.— Mary of Modena (continued), and Mary II.
Vol. XI. — Mary II. (continued), and Queen Anne. Vol. XII. — Queen Anne
(concluded). Any volume sold separately, or the whole to match in neat green cloth.
These volumes have the fascination of a romance united to the integrity of history.—
Times A most valuable and entertaining work.— Chronicle. .,.-,.. .,
This interesting and well-written work, in which the severe truth of history takes
almost the wildness of romance, will constitute a valuable addition to our biogra-
pbical literature.— Morning Herald. .
A valuable contribution to historical knowledge, to young persons especially. It
contains amass of every kind of historical matter of interest, which industry and re
source could collect. We have derived much entertainment and instruction from
the work. — Aihenceum. , _. , ,
The execution of this work is equal to the conception. Great pains have been
taken to make it both interesting and valuable— Literary Gazette.
Afhitmin' work— full of interest, al once serious and pleasing.- Monsieur Guizot.
A most charming biographical memoir. We conclude by expressing our unquali
fied opinion, that we know of no more valuable contribution to modern hislory than
this ninth volume of Miss Strickland's Lives ofthe Queens.-ATormng Herald.
*2

10 LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS.
NEW WORK BY MISS KAVANAGH.— Now Ready.
WOMAN IN FRANOE
IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.
BY JULIA KAVANAGH,
Author of" Madeleine, a Tale of Auvergne."
In one neat vol., royal 12mo., extra cloth.
In treating other subjects of her gallery — as for instance those widely different per
sonages, Mdlle. Aisse and Madame Roland — Miss Kavanagh puts forth a pathetic
power which gives depth and repose to a book lhat in other hands might have become
wearying from its unmitigated sparkle.
The critic dealing with such an encyclopedia of coquetries, amours, vicissitudes,
sufferings, and repentances as the history of " Woman in France" must necessarily
be, is fain to content himself with offering merely a general character like the above.
Such is the fascination of the subject— such is the fullness of matter— such is ils afflu
ence of suggestion — that every page tempts him to stop for a gossip or for speculation
of modes and morals.
_ Which among us will ever be tired of reading about the Women of France ? espe
cially when they are marshaled so agreeably and discreetly as in the pages before
us. — The Athencsum. ERMAN'S SIBERIA.— Now Heady.
TRAVELS Tn SIBERIA.
INCLUDING EXCURSIONS NORTHWARD,
Down the Obi to the Polar Circle, and Southward to the Chinese Frontier.
BY ADOLPH ERMAN.
TRANSLATED FRO VI the German, BY WILLIAM DBS BOROUGH COOLEY.
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which we possess of the vast territories extending from the Ural Mountains to Bea
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portion ofthe globe. Dr. Erman devoted several years to these researches, and has
embodied in these volumes a large amount of curious and novel information.
Lately Issued  INGERSOLL'S NEW WORK.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF THE SECOtfH WAR
BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA AND GREAT BRITAIN,
DECLARED BY ACT OF CONGRESS THE 18th OF JUNE, 1812, AND CON
CLUDED BY PEACE THE 15th OF FEBRUARY, 1815.
BY CHARLES J. INGERSOLL.
EMBRACING THE EVENTS OP 1814.
In one well-printed 8vo. vol., of 318 pages, double columns, paper covers.
FRANCE UNDER LOUIS PHILIPPE.
The History of Ten Years, 1880-1840; or, France under Louis Philippe.
BY LOUIS BLANC,
Secretary ofthe Provisional Government of 1848.
TRANSLATED BY WALTER K. KELLY.
In two handsome crown 8vo. volumes, extra cloth, or six parts, paper, at fifty cents.
HISTORY OF TIlFFmcYmSTION OF 1789.
BY LOUIS BLANC,
Author of « France under Louis Philippe," &c.
IRAN'' .rED FROM THE FRENCH.
one volume, crown octavo.

LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS.
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S OF
BY THERESA PULSZKY.
WITH AN HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION
BY FRANCIS PULSZKY.
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We need hardly inform our readers that the authoress of this work is the accom
plished wife ofthe gentleman who was originally accredited to the English Cabinet
by the Provisional Government of Hungary. The private interest attaching to ihe
recital of events which have become so famous, would ensure a wide popularity for
Madame Pulszky's book. Bat we should very mnch underestimate its value if we so
limited our praise. The Memoirs, indeed, contain sketches of social life which are
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But they are also rich in political and topographical information ofthe first character.
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TAl-ES AND STORIES FROM HISTORY.
BY AGNES STRICKLAND,
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THEORY OF LIFE.
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LIST OF PLATES.
Nora Creina, - Painted by W. P. Frith, Engr'd by E. Finden.
Rich and Rare were the Gems she Wore, " W.Fisher, " W. H. Mote.
Eveleen,  " R. T. Bott, " E. Finden.
Love's Young Dream, " A.Derby, " E. Finden.
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THE WESTERM WORLD;
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LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 13
LIBRARY OF ILLUSTRATED SCIENTIFIC WORKS.
UNDER THIS TITLE LEA & BLANCHARD ARE PUBLISHING
A SERIES OF BEAUTIFULLY. ILLUSTRATED WORKS,
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MULLER'S PHYSICS— LATELY ISSUED,
peincIples OF
PHYSICS AND METEOROLOGY.
BY PROFESSOR J. MULLER, M. D.
EDITED, WITH ADDITIONS, BY R. EGLESFELD GRIFFITH, M. D.

In one large and handsome octavo volume, with 550 wood-cuts, and two
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This is a large, elegant, and most admirable volume— thefirst of a series of scien
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and universal favor which they deserve.— N. Y. Courier and Inquirer.
NOW READY.
PRACTICAL~PHARMACY.
C%7o'^VtIeApRh\S^^ BY FRANCIS MOHR, Ph. D.,
Assessor Pharmacia! ofthe Royal Prussian College of Medicine, Coblenu;
AND THEOPHILUS REDWOOD,
Professor of Pharmacy in the Pharmaceutical Society of Great Britain.
EDITED, WITH EXTENSIVE ADDITIONS,
BY PROFESSOR WILLIAM PROCTER,
Of the Philadelphia College of Pharmacy.
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In Preparation, works on Metallurgy, Food, the Steam, Mng-ine,
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14 LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS.
IA.hr ary of Illustrated Scientific Works.— Continued.
KNAPP'S CHEMICAL TECHNOLOGY.
T E C H N~0 L 0 G Y;
OR, CHEMISTRY APPLIED TO THE ARTS AND TO MANUFACTURES
BY BR. F. KNAPP,
Professor at the University of Giessen.
Edited, with numerous Notes and Additions, by
DR. EDMUND RONALDS, and DR. THOMAS RICHARDSON.
First American Edition, with Notes and Additions,
BY PROFESSOR WALTER R. JOHNSON.
In two handsome octavo volumes, printed and illustrated in the highest style of art.
Volume One, lately published, with two hundred and fourteen large wood engravings.
Volume Two, now ready, with two hundred and fifty wood engravings.
One of the best works of modern times. — New York Commercial.
We think it will prove the most popular, as it is decidedly the best of the series.
Written by one who has for many years studied both theoretically and practically the
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sion of the operations. The work is also carefully brought down to include the most
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descriptions of processes to which reference is frequently made in other works, while
many of them are, we believe, now for the first time presented in a complete state to
the English reader. — Franklin Institute Journal.
WEISBACH'S MECHANICS.
PRINCIPLES OF "THE MECHANICS
OF MACHINERY AND ENGINEERING.
By Professor JULIUS WEISBACH.
TRANSLATED AND EDITED
BY PROFESSOR GORDON, OF GLASGOW.
First American Edition, -with Additions,
By Prof. WALTER R. JOHNSON.
In two Octavo Volumes, beautifully printed.
Volume One, with five hundred and fifty illustrations, just issued.
Volume Two, with three hundred and thirty illustrations, now ready.
This work is one of the most interesting to mathematicians that has been laid be
fore us for some lime ; and we may safely term it a scientific gem. — The Builder.
The most valuable contribution to practical science that has yet appeared in this
country. — Athenceum.
In every way worthy of being recommended to our readers —Franklin Institute
Journal. From Charles H. Haswell, Esq., Engineer in Chief, U. S. N.
The design ofthe author in supplying the instructor with a guide for teaching, and
the student with an auxiliary for the acquirement of the science of mechanics, has,
in my opinion, been attained in a most successful manner. The illustrations, in the
fullness of their construction, and in typographical execution, are without a parallel.
It will afford me much pleasure to recommend its use by the members of the pro
fession with which I am connected.

LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 15

SCBMITZ & ZUMPT'^ CLASSICAL SERIES.
VOLUME I.
C. JtII.II CAESARIS
COMMBNTARII DE BELLO GALLICO.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND A GEOGRAPHICAL INDEX IN ENGLISH.
ALSO, A MAP OF GAUL, AND ILLUSTRATIVE ENGRAVINGS.
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PUBLII VIRGILII MARONIS CARMINA.
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C. CRISPI SALLUSTII CATALINA ET JUGURTHA.
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skillful adaptation to the wants both of teachers and students, have secured
for it the almost universal approbation of those to whom it has been submitted.
From among the very numerous testimonials whirh the publishers have re
ceived, they beg to submit the followinp

16 LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS.
Schmita and ZumpVs Classical Series,— Continued.
From Prof. Roche, Transylvania University, Lexington, Ky., March 31, 1849.
Whatever influence my position may give me shall be most cheerfully employed in
bringing inlo general use in ihe West these very valuable works. I trust that you
will prosecute to a close the proposed series, and that the execuiion of those that re
main to complete a Latin Curriculum may be as neat and in alt respects as unex
ceptionable as that of those already published.
From Prof. John Wilson, Prep. Dep. Dickinson College, Carlisle, Dec. 3, 1848.
I have examined the three volumes WLth considerable care, and can give them my
unqualified approbation. The plan is judicious, and the execution worthy of all praise.
The notes comprise all that a student needs, and all that he should have ; and tlieir
position at the foot of ihe page is just what it should be.
From Prof. E. E. Wiley, Emory and Henry College, Va. Nov. 30, 1848.
From the cursory examination given them, I must say that I have been highly grati
fied. Such a series as you propose giving to the public is certainly a great desidera
tum. Our classical text-books have heretofore been rendered entirely too expensive,
by the costly dresses in which ihey have appeared, and by the exiensive display of
notes appended ; many of wh-ch, though learned, are of little worth to the student in
elucidating the text. It will afford me pleasure to introduce into my department such
books of your series as may be in our course.
From S. H.Taylor, Esq., Andover, Mass., Oct 30, 1848.
The notes seem to me very accurate, and are not so numerous as to do for the stu
dent what he ought to do for himself. I can with safety, therefore, recommend it lo
my pupils.
From Prof. M. M. Campbell, Principal ofthe Grammar School, Indiana University,
Nov. 6, 1848.
I like the plan of your series I feel sure it will succeed, and thus displace some of
the learned lumber of our schools. The notes, short, plain, and apposite, are placed
where they ought to be, and furnish the learner just about help enough.
From Philip Lindsley, D. D., Pres. ofthe University of Nashville, Nov. 27, 1848.
The classical series, edited by Drs. Schmitz and Zumpt, has already acquired a
high aud well-merited reputation on both sides of the Atlantic. I have carefully ex
amined your editions of Csesar and Virgil. I think them admirable text-books for
schools, and preferable to all others. I shall avail myself of every suitable occasion
to recommend them.
From B. Sanford, Esq., Bridgewater, Mass., Jan. 17, 1849.
I have examined, with considerable care, both the Csesar and the Virgil, and am
much pleased with the plan and execuiion of Ihe series ihus far. I am particularly
gratified with the propriety and judgment displayed by the editors in the preparation
ofthe notes; avoiding, as I ihink. the prolixity and profuseness of some of our class
ical works, and, ai the same time, the barrenness and deficiency of others ; giving a
body of annotations better suited to aid the teacher in imparting a knowledge of ihe
language, than is to be found in any edition heretofore in use.
From Prof. Sturgess, Hanover College, Indiana, Dec. 30, 1848.
The mere name of the editors is a sufficient and most ample guarantee of the accu
racy ofthe lext. thejudicious choice of various readings, and ihe conformity of those
adopted lo the latest investigations of MSS.. and the results ofthe most enlighiened
criticism. The notes I have not examined very carefullv, except those of the Virgil.
They are admirable, extremely condensed, and conveying a great deal of most valu
able criticism in the briefest possible way. They are particularly valuable for their
sesthetir-al remarks, and the frequent references to parallel passages in the same au
thor. The preliminary life is excellent, and of great value to the student. The Sal-
lust appears to be ofthe same genera! character, and the notes to furnish just such
help as the diligent student really needs. I think that in bringing out such a course
at a cheap rale you are conferring a great boon on the country, and additional honor
on your press, already so distinguished for the value of its issues.

LEA & BLANCHARD'S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 17

SHAW'S ENGLISH LITERATURE.
OUTLINES OF ENGLISH LITERATURE.
BY THOMAS B. SHAW,
Professor of English Literature in the Imperial Alexander Lyceum of St. Petersburg
In one large and handsome royal 12mo. volume.
A valuable and very interesting volume, which for various merits will gradually
find its way into all libraries.— N. Y. Knickerbocker.
Supplies a want long and severely felt.— Southern Literary Gazette.
Traces our literary history with remarkable zest, fairness, and intelligence.— N. Y.
Home Journal.
An admirable work — graphic and delightful. — Pennsylvanian.
The best publication of its size upon English literature lhat we have ever met with.
— NeaPs Saturday Gazette.
Eminently readable. — City Item.
A judicious epitome — well adapted for a class-book, and at the same time worthy of
a place in any library. — Penn. Inquirer.
From ihe Eev. W. G. T. Shedd, Prof ess or of English Literature in the University of Vt.
Burlington, May 18, 1849.
I take great pleasure in saying that it supplies a want that has long existed of a
brief hislory of English literature, written in the right method and spirit, to serve as
an introduction to the critical study of it. I shall recommend the book to my classes.
FOSTER'S EUROPEAN LITERATURE.— Now Ready.
HANDBOOK OF MODERN EUROPEAN LITERATURE:
British, Danish, Dutch, French, German, Hungarian, Italian, Polish and Rus
sian, Portuguese, Spanish, and Swedish.
With a full Biographical and Chronological Index.
BY MES. FOSTER.
In one large royal 12mo. volume, extra cloth.
(UNIFORM WITH SHAW'S OUTLINES OF ENGLISH LITERATURE.)
This compilation will prove of great utility to all young persons who have just com
pleted their academical studies. The volume gives both a general and particular
view ofthe literature of Europe from the revival of letters to the present day. It is
compiled wilh care and judgment, and is, in all respects, one of the most instructive
worksthat could be placed in the hands of young persons. — Morning Herald.
ATLAS TO DANA ON CORALS.
In one large Imperial folio volume, with Sixty-one Plates,
Drawn and Colored after Nature, by the best Artists.
Beautifully and strongly bound in half morocco.
Of this magnificent work but a very few copies have been offered for sale, and these
are nearly exhausted. Those who are derirous of enriching their libraries with so
splendid a specimen of American An and Science will therefore do well lo procure
copies at once. ^ ^w copiEg gTILL QN HAND 0F
DANA ON CORALS A N D ZOO PH YTES.
Being Volume V1IL of the United States Exploring Expedition Publications,
WILKES'S CALIFORNIA — A New Work, Just Issued.
WESTERBf AMERICA,
INCLUDING OREGON AND CALIFORNIA.
With Maps of those Regions and of the Sacramento Valley.
BY CHARLES WILKES, U. S. N.,
Commander ofthe United States Exploring Expedition.
Octavo. Price 75 cents.

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LIVES OF THE LORD CHANCELLORS AND KEEPERS OF THE
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FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE REIGN OF KING GEORGE IV.,
BY JOHN LORD CAMPBELL, A.M., F.R.S.E.
First Series, forming three neat volumes in demy octavo, extra cloth.
Bringing the work to the time pf Lord Jeffries.
THE SECOND SERIES WILL SHORTLY FOLLOW IN FOUR VOLUMES TO MATCH.
" It is sufficient for us to thank Lord Campbell for the honest industry with which he has thus fai
prosecuted his large task, the general candor and liberality with which he has analyzed the lives
and characters of a long succession of influential magistrates and ministers, and the manly style
of his narrative. We need hardly say that we shall expect with great interest the continuation
of this performance. But the present series of itself is more than sufficient to give Lord Campbell
a high station among the English authors of his age." — Quarterly Review.
" The volumes teem with exciting incidents, abound in portraits, sketches and auecdotes, and are
at once interesting and instructive. The work is not only historical and biographical, hut it is
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the publication may be regarded as of a high intellectual order."— Inquirer.
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bonor to our library.. A History of the Lord Chancellors of England from the institution of the
office, is necessarily a History of the Constitution, the Court, and the Jurisprudence of the King
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general reader, as well as with much of the deepest mterest for the professional or philosophic!-)
mind." — Saturday Courier.
" The brilliant success of this work in England is by no means greater than its merits. It la
oertainly the most brilliant contribution to English history made within our recollection ; it has
the charm and freedom of Biography combined with the elaborate and careful comprehensiveness
of Histoiy."— N. Y. Tribune.
MURRAY'S ENCYCLOPEDIA OF GEOGRAPHY.

THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF GEOGRAPHY,
COMPRISING
A COMPLETE DESCRIPTION OF THE EARTH, PHYSICAL,
STATISTICAL, CIVIL AND POLITICAL.
EXHIBITING
*TS RELATION TO THB HEAVENLY BODIES, ITS PHYSICAL STRUCTURE, THE
NATURAL HISTORY OT EACH COUNTRY, AND THE INDUSTRY,
COMMERCE, POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS, AND CIVIL
AND SOCIAL STATE OF ALL NATIONS.
BY HUGH MURRAY, F.R.S.E., &c.
Assisted in Botany, by Professor HOOKER— Zoology, &x., by W. W. SWAINSON— Astronomy ac
by Professor WALLACE— Geology, <tc„ by Professor JAMESON.
REVISED, WITH ADDITIONS,
BY THOMAS G. BRADFORD.
THE WHOLE BROUGHT UP, BY A SUPPLEMENT, TO 1843.
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This great work, furnished at a remarkably cheap rate, contains about
Nineteen Hundred large imperial Pages, and is illustrated by Eighty-
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ner's, together with about Eleven Hundred Wood Cuts executed in the
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THE ENCYCLOPEDIA AMERICANA:
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Containing, in a comparatively moderate space, a vast quantity of informa
tion which is scarcely to be met with elsewhere, and of the exact kind
which is wanted in the daily exigencies of conversation and reading. It
has also a recommendation shared by no other work of the kind now before
the public, in being an American book. The numerous American Biogra
phies, Accounts ofAmerican Inventions and Discoveries, References to our
Political Institutions, and the general adaptation of the whole to our own
peculiar habits and modes of thought, peculiarly suit it to readers in this
country. From these causes, it is also especially fitted for all
DISTRICT SCHOOL AND OTHER PUBLIC LIBRARIES,
in some of which it has been tried with great satisfaction. It fulfils, to a
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to those removed from the large public collections.
Some years having elapsed since the original thirteen volumes of the
ENCYCLOPEDIA AMERICANA were published, to bring it up to
the present day, with the history of that period, at the request of numerous
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SUPPLEMENTARY VOLUME (THE FOURTEENTH),
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EDITED BY HENRY VETHAKE, LL.D.
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In one large octavo volume of over 650 double columned pages.

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The numerous subscribers who have been waiting the completion of this
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Complete sets furnished at very low prices in various bindings.
"The publishers of the Encyclopaedia Americana conferred an obligation on the public when,
fourteen years ago, they issued the thirteen volumes from their press. They contained a wonder
ful amount of information, upon almost every subject which would be likely to occupy public
attention, or be the theme of conversation in the private circle. Whatever one would wish to
inquire about, it seemed only necessary to dip into the Encyclopaedia Americana, and there the
outline, at least, would be found, and reference made to those works which treat at large upon the
subject. It was not strange, therefore, that the work was popular. But in fourteen years, great
events occur. The last fourteen years have been full of them, and great discoveries have been
made in sciences and the arts ; and great men have, by death, commended their names and deeds
to the fidelity of the biographer, so that the Encyclopaedia that approached perfection in 183?,
might fall considerably behind in 1846. To bring up the work, and keep it at the present point, has
been a task assumed by Professor Vethake, of the Pennsylvania University, a gentleman entirely
competent to such an undertaking ; and with a disposition to do a good work, he has supplied a
supplementary volume to the main work, corresponding in size and arrangements therewith, and
becoming, indeed, a fourteenth volume. The author has been exceedingly industrious, and very
fortunate in discovering and selecting materials, using all that Germany has presented, and resort
ing to every species of information of events connected with the plan of the work, since the pub
lication of the thirteen volumes. He has continued articles that were commenced in that work,
and added new articles upon science, biography, history, and geography, so as to make the present
volume a necessary appendage in completing facts to the other. The pubhshers deserve the
thanks of the readers of the volume, for the handsome type, and clear white paper they have used
ua the publication." — United States Gazette.
" This volume is worth owning by itself, as a most convenient and reliable compend of recent His
tory, Biography, Statistics, <fcc., <fcc. The entire work forms the cheapest and probably now the
most desirable Encyclopedia published for popular use."— New Yorh Tribune.
9 " The Conversations Lexicon (Encyclopedia Americana) has become a household book in all the
intelligent families in America, and is undoubtedly the best depository of biographical, historical,
geographical and political information of that kind which discriminating readers require."— SiZli-
man's Journal.
"This volume ofthe Encyclopaedia is a Westminster Abbey of American reputation. What
names are on the roll since 1833 !"— N. Y. Literary World.
" The work to which this volume forms a supplement, is one of the most important contributions
that has ever been made to the literature of our country. Besides condensing into a compara
tively narrow compass, the substance of larger works of the same kind which had preceded it, it
contains a vast amount of information that is not elsewhere to be found, and is distinguished, not
less for its admirable arrangement, than for the variety of subjects of which it treats. The present
volume, which is edited by one of the most distinguished scholars of our country, is worthy to
follow in the train of those which have preceded it. It is a remarkably felicitous condensation
of the more recent improvements in science and the arts, besides forming a very important addi-
*'an to the department of Biography, the general progress of society, <kc, ifce ¦* -Albany Argus

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N I E B U HJVS RO M E.
THE HISTOHY OF ROMS,
BY B. G. NIEBUHR.
COMPLETE IN TWO LARGE OOTAVO VOLUMES.
Done up in extra cloth ; or five parts, paper, price $1.00 each.
The last three parts of this valuable book have never before been published in this country, hav
ing only lately been printed in Germany, and translated in England. The two last of these com
prise Professor Niebuhr's Lectures on the latter part of Roman History, so long lost to the world.
" lt is an unexpected surprise and pleasure to the admirers of Niebuhr — that is, to all earnest stu
dents of ancient history — to recover, as from the grave, the lectures before us." — Eclectic Review.
"The world has now in Niebuhr an imperishabLe model."— Edinburgh Review, Jan. 1844.
" Here we close our remarks upon this memorable work, a work which, of all that have appeared
m our age, is the best fitted to excite men of learning to intellectual activity : from which the most
accomplished scholar may gather fresh stores of knowledge, to whicli the most experienced politi
cian may resort for theoretical and practical instruction, and which no person can read as it ought
to be read, without feeling the better and more generous sentiments of his common human nature
snhvened and strengthened." — Edinburgh Review.
" It is-since I saw you that I have been devouring with the most intense admiration the third
volume of Niebuhr. The clearness and comprehensiveness of all his military details is a new
feature in that wonderful mind, and how inimitably beautiful is that brief account of Terni" — Dr
Arnold (Life, vol. ii.)
PROFESSOR RANKE'S HISTORICAL WORKS.
HISTORY OF THE POPES,
THEIR CHURCH AND- STATE, IN THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES-
B"? LEOPOLD RANKE.
TRANSLATED FROM THE LAST EDITION OF THE GERMAN, BY WALTER K. KELLY, ESft., a. a-
In two parts, paper, at $1.00 each, or one large volume, extra cloth.
"A hook extraordinary for its learning and impartiality, and for its just and liberal views of the
tunes it describes. The best compliment that can be paid to Mr. Ranke, is, that each side has
accused him of partiality to its opponent: the German Protestants complaining that his work is
written in too Cathohc a spirit ; — the Catholics declaring, that generally impartial as he is, it is
clear to perceive the Protestant tendency of the history." — London Times.
T2SB TTJKKTSH AM SPiLSflSH ESEPXRE5,
IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY AND BEGINNING OF THE SEVENTEENTH,
BY PROFESSOR LEOPOLD HANKE.
TRANSLATED FEOM THE LAST EDITION OF THE GERMAN, BY WALTER K. KELLY, ESQ-
Complete in one part, paper, price 75 cents.
This work Was published by the author in connexion with the " History of the Popes." under
the name of " Sovereigns and Nations of Southern Europe, in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Cen
turies." It may be used separately, or bound up with that work, for which purpose two titles will
be found in it.  ^  ^r^>rvvv.
HISTOR? OP THE REFORBSATSOMr 1ST GERBEjft.STB',
BY PROFESSOR LEOPOLD RANKE.
PARTS FIRST, SECOND AND THIRD NOW READY.
TRANSLATED FROM THE SECOND EDITION, BY SARAH AUSTIN.
To be completed in Five parts, each part containing one volume of the London edition.
" Few modern writers possess such qualifications for doing justice to so great a subject as Leo
pold Ranke —Indefatigable in exertions, he revels in the toil of examining archives and state
papers ¦ honest in purpose, he shapes his theories from evidence ; not like D'Aubigne, whose
romance of the Reformation selects evidence to support preconceived theory. Ranke never forgets
the statesman in the theologian, or the historian in the partisan.' —Athemmm.
BBOTCHAH ON T3SE FRENCH REVOLtTTIQZ*.
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GRAHAME'S COLONIAL HISTORY.

HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES.
*-ROM THE PLANTATION OF THE BRITISH COLONIES
TILL THEIR ASSUMPTION OF INDEPENDENCE.
SECOND AMERICAN EDITION,
ENLARGED AND AMENDED,
WITH A MEMOIR BY PRESIDENT QUINCY.
IM TWO LARGE OCTAVO VOLUMES, EXTRA CLOTH,
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This work having assumed the position of a standard history of this
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It is now considered as the most impartial and trustworthy history that has
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A few copies of the edition in four volumes, on extra fine thick paper,
price eight dollars, may still be had by gentlemen desirous of procuring a
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" It is universally known to literary men as, in its original form, one of the earliest histories of
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copiously used by every one who has, since its appearance, undertaken the history of this country.
In the course of the memoir prefixed to it, it is vindicated from the aspersions cast on it by Mr.
Bancroft, who, nevertheless, has derived from it a vast amount of the information and documentary
material of his own ambitious, able and extended work. It is issued in two volumes, and cannot
fail to fied its way to every library of any pretensions. — JVew York Courier and Enquirer.
COOPER'S NAVAL HISTORY.

HISTORY OF THE NAVY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
BY J. FENIMORE COOPER.
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HISTORICAL MEMOIRS OF MY OWN TIMES,
BY SIR N. W. WRAXALL.
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This is the work for which, in consequence of too truthful a portraiture of Catherine II., the
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pressed until after his death. '
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POSTHUMOUS MEMOIRS OF HIS OWN TIMES,
BY SIR N. W. WRAXALL.
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MEMOIRS OF THE LOVES OF THE POETS,
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FREDERICK THE GREAT, HIS COURT AND TIMES.
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HISTORY OF CONGRESS,
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THE HISTORY OF IRELAND,
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HISTORY OF Tlo/AWFMi^^ IN 1815,
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TEXT BOOK OF ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY.
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in procuring it now — and to those who read it then, but do not possess a copy, to embrace the op
portunity of supplying themselves from the present very excellent edition."— Saturday Evening Post.
"A new edition of this exquisite story has recently been issued by Messrs. Lea Si Blanchard,
embellished and illustrated in the most elegant manner. We understand that the work was com
pletely out of print, and a new edition will then be welcomed, lt contains a delightful letter from
the author, giving a painful insight into the personal history of the characters who figure in the
story." — Evening Bulletin.
" The most charming work we have read for many a day."— Richmond Enquirer.
LOVER'S RORY O'MORE.

RORT 0?MORE-A NATIONAL ROMANCE,
BY SAMUEL LOVER.
A. new and cheap edition, with Illustrations by the Author. Price only 25 cents.
Also, a beautiful edition in royal 12mo., price SO cents, to match the following.
"A. truly Irish, national, and characteristic story."— London Literary Gazette.
" Mr. Lover has here produced his best work of fiction, which will survive when half the Irish
sketches with which the literary world teems are forgotten. The interest we take in the varied
adventures of Rory is never once suffered to abate. We welcome him with high delight, and
part from him with regret." — London Sun.
LOVER'S IRISH STORIES.
LEGENDS AND STORIES OF IRELAND,
BY SAMUEL LOVER.
In one very neat 12rao. volume, fine paper, extra cloth or fancy paper,
With Illustrations by the Author.
LOVER'S SONGS AND BALLADS,
INCLUDING THOSE OF THE "IRISH EVENINGS."
In one neat 12mo. volume, price 25 cents.
MARSTON,
OR THE MEMOIRS OF A STATESMAN AND SOLDIER
BY THE EEV. GEORGE CROLY,
Author of " Salathiel," " Angel of the World," Aie
In one octavo volume, paper, price fifty cents.
¦A work of high character and absorbing interest."— iVew Orleans Bee

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POPULAR SCIENCE.

PHILOSOPHY IN SPORT, MADE SCIENCE IN EARNEST,
BEING AN ATTEMPT TO ILLUSTRATE THE FIRST PRIN
CIPLES OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, BY THE
AID OF THE POPULAR TOYS AND
SPORTS OF YOUTH.
FROM THE SIXTH AND GREATLY IMPROVED LONDON EDITION.
In one very neat royal ISmo. volume, with nearly one hundred illustrations on wood.
Fine extra crimson cloth.
" Messrs. Lea <fe Blanchard have issued, in a beautiful manner, a handsome book, called ' Philoso
phy in Sport, made Science in Earnest.' This is an admirable attempt to illustrate the first prin
ciples of Natural Philosophy, by the aid of the popular toys and sports of youth. Useful informa
tion is conveyed in an easy, graceful, yet dignified manner, and rendered easy to the simplest under
standing. The book is an admirable one, and must meet with universal favour."— JV. Y. Evening
Mirror. ENDLESS AMUSEMENT.
JUST ISSUED.

ENDLESS AMUSEMENT,
A COLLECTION OF
NEARLY FOUR HUNDRED ENTERTAINING EXPERIMENTS
IN VARIOUS BRANCHES OF SCIENCE,
INCLUDING
ACOUSTICS, ARITHMETIC, CHEMISTRY, ELECTRICITY, HYDRAULICS, HYDROSTATICS,
MAGNETISM, MECHANICS, OPTICS, WONDERS OF THE AIR PUMP, ALL THE
POPULAR TRICKS AND CHANGES OF THE CARDS, &c, iic.
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF PYROTECHNV,
OR THE ART OF MAKING FIRE-WORKS :
THE WHOLE SO CLEAKLY EXrLAINED AS TO BE WITHIN KEACH
OF THE MOST LIMITED CAPACITY.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.
FROM THE SEVENTH LONDON EDITION.
In one neat royal 18mo. volume, fine extra crimson cloth.
This work has Ion? supplied instructive amusement to the rising generations in England, and
will doubtless be hailed with pleasure by those of this country who like (and what boy does not)
the marvellous tricks and changes, experiments and wonders afforded by the magic of science and
jugglery.  ™^„
CHEMISTRY OF THE FOUR SEASONS,
SPRING, SUMMER, AUTUMN, AND WINTER.
AN ESSAY PRINCIPALLY CONCERNING NATURAL PHENOMENA, ADMITTING OP
INTERPRETATION BY CHEMICAL SCIENCE, AND ILLUSTRATING
PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE.
BY THOMAS GRIFFITHS,
rnoFESSon of chemistry in the medical college or st. Bartholomews hospital, eto.
In one large royal 12mo. volume, with many Wood-Cuts, extra cloth.
« rh.mirtrv U assuredly one of the most useful aud interesting of the natural sciences. Chemical
,k.S,mrt iVat every step, and during every season, the wolds and the ram the heat and the
enjoy the highest intellectual fe"'^;.,,0^ of cultivated minds; and
tl^^^^lkL e,?cEefuff,into naure's beaut es. will find themsel.es led on step by
those who have looked less careiu ny in " "^ '% h works ,ve |,elieve, exert a happy influence
fjincet.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

POPULAR SCIENCE.
KIRBY AND SPENCErS ENTOMOLOGY, FOR POPULAR USE.
AN INTRODUCTION TO BNTOMOIOGY;
OR, ELEMENTS OF THE NATURAL HISTORY OF INSECTS: COMPRISING i AN ACCOUNT
OF NOXIOUS AND USEFUL INSECTS, OF THEIR METAMORPHOSES, FOOD,
STRATAGEMS, HABITATIONS, SOCIETIES, MOTIONS, NOISES,
HYBERNATION, INSTINCT, Aie, &c.
Witll Plates, Plain or Colored.
BT WILLIAM KIBBT,M.A.,F.H.S., AND WILLIAM SPENCE, ESQ., F.E.S.
FROM THE SIXTH LONDON EDITION, WHICH WAS CORRECTED AND CONSIDERABLY ENLARGED.
In ono large octavo volume, extra cloth.
" We have been greatly interested in running over the pages of this treatise. There is scarcely, in
the wide range of natural science, a more interesting or instructive study than that of insects, or
one than is calculated to excite more curiosity or wonder.
" The popular form of letters is adopted by the authors in imparting a knowledge of the subject,
which rentiers the work peculiarly fitted for our district school libraries, which are open to all ages
and classes." — Hunt's Merchants' Magazine. just ISSUED.

FHE ANCIENT WORLD, OR, PICTURESQUE SKETCHES OF CREATION.
BY D. T. ANSTED, M.A., F.R.S., F.G.S., &c.
PROFESSOR OF GEOLOGY IN KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON.
In one very neat volume, fine extra cloth, with about One Hundred and Fifty Illustrations.
The object of this work is to present to the general reader the chief results of Geological investi-
Stion in a simple and comprehensive manner. The author has avoided all minute details of geo-
jical formations and particular observations, and has endeavoured as far as possible to present
striking views of the wonderful results of the science, divested of its mere technicalities. The
work is got up in a handsome manner, with numerous illustrations, and forms a neat volume for the
centre table. GEOLOGY AND MINERALOGY,
WITH INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE QUALITATIVE ANALYSIS OF MINERALS.
BY JOSHUA TRIMMER, F. G. S.
With two Hundred and Twelve Wood-Cuts, a handsome octavo volume, bound in embossed cloth.
This is a systematic introduction to Mineralogy, and Geology, admirably calculated to instruct
the student in those sciences. The organic remains of the various formations are well illustrated
by numerous figures, which are drawn with great accuracy.
NEW AND COMPLETE MEDICAL BOTANY.
NOW READY.

MSBICAL BOTAN7.
OR, A DESCRIPTION OF ALL THE MORE IMPORTANT PLANTS USED IN MEDICINE,
AND OF THEIR PROPERTIES, USES AND MODES OF ADMINISTRATION.
BY R. B6LESFELD GRIFFITH, M. D., &,€., &c.
In one large octavo volume. With about three hundred and fifty Illustrations on Woor".
a populaTtrIaItse^^
PUBLISHED UNDER THE AUSPICES OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE PROMOTION OF
POPULAR INSTRUCTION; WITH NUMEROUS WOOD-CUTS.
BY W. B. CARPENTER.
In one volume, 12mo., extra cloth.
A TREATISE ON COMPARATIVE ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY,
BY W. B. CARPENTER.
REVISED AND MUCH IMPROVED BY THE AUTHOR. WITH BEAUTIFUL STEEL PLATES.
(Now preparing.)
CARPENTER'S A ET I M A I, EHYSIOLOGTT,
WITH ABOUT THRKE HUNDRED WOOD-CUTS.
(Prop-arm" )

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

DON QUIXOTE-ILLUSTRATED EDITION.

NEARLY READY.

DON QUIXOTE DE LA MANCHA,
TRANSLATED FROM THE SPANISH OF
MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA
BY CHARLES JARVIS, ESQ.
CAREFULLY REVISED AN"D CORRECTED, WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR AND
NOTICE OF HJS WORKS.
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS,
BY TONY JOHANNOT.
In two beautifully printed volumes, crown octavo, rich extra crimson cloth

The publishers are happy in presenting to the admirers of Don Qnisote an edition of that work
in some degree worthy of its reputation and popularity. The want of such a one has long been felt
in this country, and in presenting this, they have only to express their hope that it may meet the
numerous demands and inquiries. The translation is that by Jarvis, which is acknowledged supe
rior in both force and fidelity to all others. It has in some few instances been slightly altered to adapt
it better to modern readers, or occasionally to suit it to the inimitable designs of Tony Johannot.
These latter are admitted to be the oidy successful pictorial exponents of the wit and humor oi
Cervantes, and a choice selection of them have been engraved in the best manner. A copious
memoir of the author and his works has been added by the editor. The volumes are printed in
arge clear type, on fine paper, and handsomely bound, and the whole is confidently offered as
¦vorrflf rne approbation of alt readers of this imperishable romance.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

POPULAR SCIENCE.
KIRBY AND SPENCE'S ENTOMOLOGY, FOR POPULAR USE.
AET INTKODUCTIOH TO ENTOMOLOGY;
OR, ELEMENTS OF THE NATURAL HISTORY OP INSECTS : COMPRISING AN ACCOUNT
OP NOXIOUS AND USEFUL INSECTS, OF THEIR METAMORPHOSES FOOD,
STRATAGEMS, HABITATIONS, SOCIETIES, MOTIONS, NOISES,
HYBERNATION, INSTINCT, &c, &c.
Witli Plates, Plain or Colored.
BY WILLIAM KIEBY,M.A.,F.R.S., AND WILLIAM SPENCE, ESQ., F.R.S.
FROM THE SIXTH LONDON EDITION, WHICH WAS CORRECTED AHD CONSIDERABLY ENLARGED.
In one large octavo volume, extra cloth.
" We have been greatly interested in running over the pages of this treatise. There is scarcely, in
the wide range of natural science, a more interesting or instructive study than that of insects, or
one than is calculated to excite more curiosity or wonder.
" The popular form of letters is adopted by the authors m imparting a knowledge of the subject,
wh ich renders the work peculiarly fitted for our district school libraries, which are open to all ages
and classes." — Hunt's Merchants' Magazine. just ISSUED.

FHE ANCIENT WORLD, OR, PICTURESQUE SKETCHES OF CREATION.
BY D. T. ANSTED, M.A., F.R.S., F.G.S., &c.
PROFESSOR OP GEOLOGY IN KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON.
In one very neat volume, fine extra cloth, with about One Hundred and Fifty Illustrations.
The object of this work is to present to the general reader the chief results of Geological investi
gation in a simple and comprehensive manner. The author has avoided all minute details of geo
logical formations and particular observations, and has endeavoured as far as possible to present
striking views of the wonderful results of the science, divested of its mere technicalities. The
work is got up in a handsome manner, with numerous illustrations, and forms a neat volume for the
centre table. GEOLOGY AND MINERALOGY,
WITH INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE QUALITATIVE ANALYSIS OF MINERALS.
BY JOSHUA TRIMMER, F. G-. S.
With two Hundred and Twelve Wood-Cuts, a handsome octavo volume, bound in embossed cloth.
This is a systematic introduction to Mineralogy, and Geology, admirably calculated to instruct
the student in those sciences. The organic remains of the various formations are well illustrated
by numerous figures, which are drawn with great accuracy.
NEW AifiTcbTwp^^ NOW READY.

MEDICAL BOTAN7,
OR, A DESCRIPTION OF ALL THE MORE IMPORTANT PLANTS USED IN MEDICINE,
AND OF THEIR PROPERTIES, USES AND MODES OF ADMINISTRATION.
BY R. BCLESFELD GRIFFITH, M.D., &c, &c.
In one large octavo volume. With about three hundred and fifty Illustrations on Woo*.
a populaTtrIaIiseI^^
PUBLISHED UNDER THE AUSPICES OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE PROMOTION OP
POPULAR INSTRUCTION; WITH NUMEROUS WOOD-CUTS.
BY W. B. CARPENTER.
In one volume, 12mo., extra cloth.
A TREATISE ON COMPARATIVE ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY,
BY W. B. CARPENTER.
REVISED AND MUCH IMPROVED BY THE AUTHOR. WITH BEAUTIFUL STEEL PLATES
(Now preparing.)
CARPEEJTER'S ANIMAL PEVSIOLOGV,
WITH ABOUT THREE HUNDRED WOOD-CUTS.
(Plepariir )

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

DON QUIXOTE-ILLUSTRATED EDITION.

NEARLY READY.

DON QUIXOTE DE LA MANCHA,
TRANSLATED FHOM THE SPANISH OF
MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA
BY CHARLES JARVIS, ESQ.
CAREFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR AND
NOTICE OF HIS WORKS.
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS,
BY TONY JOHANNOT.
In two beautifully printed volumes, crown octavo, rich extra crimson cloth-

The publishers are happy in presenting to the admirers of Don Quixote an edition of that work
in some degree worthy of its reputation and popularity. The want of such a one has long been felt
in this country, and in presenting this, they have only to express their hopB that it may meet the
numerous demands and inquiries. The translation is that by Jarvis, which is acknowledged supe
rior in both force and fidelity to all others. It has in some few instances been slightly altered to adapt
it better to modern readers, or occasionally to suit it to the inimitable designs of Tony Johannot.
These latter are admitted to be the only successful pictorial exponents of the wit and humor oi
Cervantes, and a choice selection of them have been engraved in the best manner. A copious
memoir of the author and his works has been added by the editor. The volumes are printed in
aree clear type, on fine paper, and handsomely bound, and the whole is confidently offered as
•vort-ar tne approbation of all readers of this imperishable romance.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.
DICKENS'S WORKS. -
VARIOIS EDITIONS AND PRICES.

CHEAPEST EDITION IN NINE PARTS PAPER,
AS FOLLOWS:
THE PICKWICK PAPERS, 1 large vol. 8vo., paper, price 50 cents.
OLIVER TWIST, 1 vol. 8vo., paper, price 25 cents.
SKETCHES OF EVERY-DAY-LIFE, 1 vol. 8vo., paper, price 37 j cents.
NICHOLAS NICKLEBY, 1 larf;e vol. 8vo., paper, price 50 cents.
THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP, 1 vol. 8vo., paper, with many Cuts,
price 50 cents.
BARNABY RUDGE, 1 vol. 8vo., with many Cuts, price 50 cents.
MARTIN CHUZZLEW1T, 1 vol. 8vo., with plates, price 50 cents.
CHRISTMAS STORIES.— The Carol, The Chimes, The Cricket on
the Hearth, and The Battle of Life — together with Pictures from
Italy, 1 vol. 8vo., price 37£ cents.
DOMBEY AND SON, Part I., to be completed in Two Parts, price 25
cents each.
Forming a neat and uniform Edition of these popular works. Any work sold separately.
ALSO,
A UNIFORM AND CHEAP EDITION OF
DICKENS'S NOVELS AND TALES,
IN THREE LARGE VOLUMES.

THE NOVELS AJSSJt TALES OF CHARLES DICKENS,
(BOZ,)
In Three large and beautiful Octavo Volumes, done up in Extra Cloth,
CONTAINING ABOUT TWENTY-TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY LARGE DOUBLE
COLUMNED PAGES.
PRICE FOR THE WHOLE, ONLY THREE DOLLARS AND SEVENTY-FIVE CENTS.
The frequent inquiries for a uniform, compact and good edition of Boz's works, have induced the
publishers to prepare one, which they now offer at a price so low that it should command a very
extended sale. It is printed on fine white paper, with good type, and forms three large volumes,
averaging about seven hundred and fifty pages each, done up in various styles of extra cloth, making
a beautiful and portable edition. — Some of the works are illustrated with Wood Engravings.
This Edition comprehends the first seven parts, and will be completed with the issue of the
Fourth Volume, on the completion of " Dombey and Son,*' now in progress of publication, con
taining that work, the " Christmas Stories," and " Pictures from Italy." Purchasers may thus rely
on being able to perfect their sets.
ALSO, AN EDITION PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED WITH
ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FOUR PLATES, AND ONE
HUNDRED AND FORTY WOOD-CUTS.
In Imperial octavo, extra cloth, on fine white paper.
SCfThe above are tlie only Complete s nd Uniform Editions of Dickens's Works now
before the public. NOW PUBLISHING,
DOMBEY AND SON.
FINE EDITION.
In twenty numbers, price 8 cents each, with two- illustrations by Hablot
i, K. Browne in each number.
This is the only edition which presents the plates accompanying the text to which they refer.

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UNITED STATES EXPLORING EXPEDITION.
THE NARRATIVE OP THE
UNITED STATES EXPLORING EXPEDITION,
DURING THE YEARS 1838, '39, '40, 41, AND '42.
BY CHARLES WILKES, E S Q,., TJ.S.N.
COMMANDER OF TIIE EXPEDITION, ETC.
PRICE TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS.
A New Edition, in Five Medium Octavo Volumes, neat Extra Cloth, particularly done
up with reference to strength and continued use: containing Twenty-Six Hun
dred Pages of Letter-press. Illustrated with Maps, and about Three
Hundred Splendid Engravings on Wood.
PRICE ONLY TWO DOLLARS A VOLUME.
Though offered at a price so low, this is the complete work, containing all the letter-press ofthe
edition printed for Congress, with some improvements suggested in the course of passing the work
again through the press. All of the wood-cut illustrations are retained, and nearly all the maps ;
the large steel plates of the quarto edition being omitted, and neat wood-cuts substituted for forty-
seven steel vignettes. It is printed on ine paper, with large type, bound in very neat extra cloth,
and forms a beautiful work, with its very numerous and appropriate embellishments.
The attention of persons forming libraries is especially directed to this work, as presenting the
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SCHOOL and other PUBLIC LIBRARIES should not be without it, as embodying the results of
the First Scientific Expedition commissioned by our government to explore foreign regions.
" We have no hesitation in saying that it is destined to stand among the most enduring monu
ments of our national literature. Its contributions not only to every department of science, but
every department of history, are immense ¦ and there is not an intelligent man in the community-
no matter what may be his taste, or his occupation, but will fmd something here to enlighten, to
gratify, and to profit him." — Albany Religious Spectator.

ANOTHER EDITION.
PRICE TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS.
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and beauty, containing Sixty-four large and finished Line Engravings, embracing
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cut Illustrations, Fourteen large and small Maps and Charts, and nearly Twenty-six
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THE EDITION PRINTED EOR CONGRESS,
IN TIVE VOLUMES, AND AN ATLAS.
LARGE IMPERIAL QUARTO, STRONG EXTRA CLOTH.
PRICE SIXTY DOLLARS.

JUST ISSUED,
THE ETHNOGRAPHY AND PHILOLOGY OF THE UNITED
STATES EXPLORING EXPEDITION,
UNDER THE COMMAND OF CHARLES WILKES, ESQ., U. S. NAVY.
BY HORATIO HALE,
PHILOLOGIST TO TIIE EXPEDITION.
In on. large imperial octavo volume of nearly seven ^ft^l?:^ tw0 MapS' prtated ,0
b j- match the Congress copies of tho Narrative.
Price ten dollars, in beautiful extra cloth, done up with great strength..
• ,? This is the only edition printed, and bat few are offered for sale.
™. • a „f tho «r,«ntific works of the Expedition are in a state of rapid progress. The
rJ^rr^lV^^t^ZT^^^ of Plates, will be shortly reajy, to be fol-
lowed by the others.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.
SMALL BOOKS ON GREAT SUBJECTS.
A SERIES OF WORKS
WHICH DESERVE THE ATTENTION OF THE PUBLIC, FROM THE VARIETY AND
IMPORTANCE OF THEIR SUBJECTS, AND THE CONCISENESS AND
STRENGTH WITH WHICH THEY ARE WRITTEN.
They form a neat 18mo. series, in paper, or strongly done up in three neat volumes, extra cloth.
THERE ARE ALREADY PUBLISHED,
No. 1.— PHILOSOPHICAL THEORIES AND PHILOSOPHICAL EXPERIENCE.
2.— ON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN PHYSIOLOGY AND INTELLECTUAL SCIENCE.
3.— ON MAN'S POWER OVER HIMSELF. TO PREVENT OR CONTROL INSANITY.
4.— AN INTRODUCTION TO PRACTICAL' ORGANIC CHEMISTRY, WITH REFER
ENCES TO THE WORKS OF DAVY, BRANDE, L1EBIG, 4c.
5.— A BRIEF VIEW OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY UP TO THE AGE OF PERICLES.
6— GREEK PHILOSOPHY FROM THE AGE OF SOCRATES TO THE COMING OF
CHRIST.
7.— CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE AND PRACTICE IN THE SECOND CENTURY.
8.— AN EXPOSITION OF VULGAR AND COMMON ERRORS, ADAPTED TO THE YEAR
OF GRACE MDCCCXLV.
9— AN INTRODUCTION TO VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY, WITH REFERENCES TO
THE WORKS OF DE CANDOLLE, L1NDLEY, ic.
10.— ON THE PRINCIPLES OF CRIMINAL LAW.
1].— CHRISTIAN SECTS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
12.— THE GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF GRAMMAR.
" We are glad to find that Messrs. Lea &. Blanchard are reprinting, for a quarter of their original
price, this admirable series of little books, which have justly attracted so much attention in Great
Britain."— Graham's Magazine.
"The writers of these thoughtful treatises are not labourers for hire ; they are men who have
stood apart from the throng, and marked the movements of the crowd, the tendencies of society,
its evils and its errors, and, meditating upon them, have given their thoughts to the thoughtful." —
London Critic.
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are written in England by scholars of eminent ability, whose design -is to call the attention of the
public to various important topics, in a novel and accessible mode of publication." — N. Y. Morning
News.
MACKINTOSH'S DISSERTATION ON THE PROGRESS
OF ETHICAL PHILOSOPHY,
WITH A PREFACE BY
THE. REV. WILLIAM WHEWELL, M. A.
In one neat 8vo. vol., extra cloth.

OVERLAND JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD,
DURING THE YEARS 1841 AND 1842,
BY SIR GEORGE" SIMPSON,
GOVERNOR-IN-CHIEF OF THE HUDSON'S BAY COMPANY'S TERRITORIES.
In one very neat crown octavo volume, rich extra crimson cloth, or in two
parts, paper, price 75 cents each."
"A more valuahle or instmcLive work, or one more full of perilous adventure and heroic entei
prise, we have never met with." — Johsi Bidl.
"It abounds with details of the deepest interest, possesses all the charms of an excitmg romance
and punishes an immense mass of valuable information." — biqwrer.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.
YOUATT ON THE PIG.
THE PIG;
A TREATISE ON THE BREEDS, MANAGEMENT, FEEDING
AND MEDICAL TREATMENT OF SWINE,
WITH DIRECTIONS FOR SALTING PORK, AND CURING BACON AND HAMS.
BY WILLIAM YOUATT, T.S.
Author of "The Horse," "The Dog," "Cattle," " Sheep," &.c, &c.
ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVIHGS DRAWN FROM UFE DY WILLIAM HARVEY.
In one handsome duodecimo volume, extra cloth, or in neat paper cover, price 50 cents.
This work, on a subject comparatively neglected, must prove of much use to farmers, especially
in this country, where the Pig is an animal of more importance than elsewhere. No work has
hitherto appeared treating fully of the various breeds of swine, tlieir diseases and cure, breeding,
fattening, &c., and the preparation of bacon, salt pork, hams, -fee, while the name of the author of
"The Horse," A The Cattle Doctor," <kc., is sufficient authority for all he may state. To render it
more accessible to those whom it particularly interests, the publishers have prepared copies in
neat illustrated paper covers, suitable for transmission by mail ; and which will be sent through
the post-office on the receipt of fifty cents, free of postage.
CLATER AND YOUATT'S CATTLE DOCTOR.

EVERY MAN HIS- OWN .CATTLE DOCTOR:
CONTAINING THE CAUSES, SYMPTOMS AND TREATMENT OF ALL
DISEASES INCIDENT TO OXEN, SHEEP AND SWINE;
AND A SKETCH OF THE
ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY OF NEAT CATTLE.
BY FRANCIS CLATER.
EDITED, REVI9ED AND ALMOST RE-WRITTEN, BT
WILLIAM YOUATT, AUTHOR OF " THE HORSE."
WITH NUMEROUS ADDITIONS,
EMBRACING AN ESSAY ON THE USE OF OXEN AND THE IMPROVEMENT IN THE
BREED OF SHEEP,
BY J. S. SKINNER.
WITH NUMEROUS CUTS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.
In one 12mo. volume, cloth.
M As its title would import, it is a most valuable work, and should be in the hands of every Ame
rican farmer; and we feel proud in saying, that the value of the work has been greatly enhanced
oy the contributions of Mr. Skinner. Clater and Youatt are names treasured by the farming com
munities of Europe as household-gods ; nor does that of Skinner deserve to be less esteemed in
America." — American Farmer.

CLATER'S FARRIER.

EVERY MAN HIS OWN FARRIER:
CONTAINING THE CAUSES, SYMPTOMS, AND MOST APPROVED METHODS OF CURE
OF THE DISEASES OF HORSES.
BIT FRANCIS CLATER,
Author of " Every Man his own Cattle Doctor,"
AND H.IS SON, JOHN CLATER.
FIRST AMERICAN FROM THE TWENTY-EIGHTH LONDON EDITION.
WITH NOTES AND ADDITIONS,
BV J' S. SSINNEB.
In one 12mo. volume, cloth.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.
YOUATT AND SKINNER'S
STANDARD WORK ON THE HORSE.

THE HORSE.
BY WILLIAM YOUATT.
A NEW EDITION, WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.
TOGETHER WITH A
GENERAL HISTORY OF THE HORSE;
A DISSERTATION ON
THE AMERICAN TROTTING HORSE;
HOW TRAINED AND JOCKEYED,
AN ACCOUNT OF HIS REMARKABLE PERFORMANCES;
AND
AN ESSATT ON" THE ASS AS-TO THE HEULE,
BY J. S. SKINNER,
Assistant Post-Master-General, and Editor of the Turf Register.
This edition of Youatt's well-known and standard work on the Manage
ment, Diseases, and Treatment of the Horse, has already obtained such a
wide circulation throughout the country, that the Publishers need say no
thing to attract to it the attention and confidence of all who keep Horses or
are interested in their improvement.
"In introducing this very neat edition of Youatt's well-known book, on 'The Horse,' to our
readers, it is not necessary, even if we had time, to say anything to convince them of its worth ; it
has been highly spoken of, by those most capable of appreciating its merits, and its appearance
under the patronage of the ' Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge,' with Lord Brougham
at its head, affords a full guaranty for its high character. The book is a very valuable one, and we
endorse the recommendation of the editor, that every man who owns the ' hair of a horse,' should
have it at his elbow, to be consulted like a family physician, ' for mitigating the disorders, and pro
longing the hfe of the most interesting and useful of all domestic animals.' " — Farmer's Cabinet.
"This celebrated work has been completely revised, and much of it almost entirely re-written
by its able author, who, from being a practical veterinary surgeon, and withal a great lover and
excellent judge of the animal, is particularly well qualified to write the history of the noblest of
quadrupeds. -Messrs. Lea and Blanchard of Philadelphia have republished the above work, omitting
a few of the first pages, and have supplied their place with matter quite as valuable, and perhaps
more interesting to the reader in this country ; it being nparly 100 pages of a general history of the
horse, a dissertation on the American trotting horse, how trained and jockeyed, an account of his
remarkable performances, and an essay on the Ass and Mule, by J. S. Skinner, Esq., Assistant Post-
oiaster-Geneial, and late editor of tlie Turf Register and American Farmer. Mr. Skinner is one
of our most pleasing writers, and lias been familiar with the subject of the horse from childhood,
and we need not add that he has acquitted himself well of the task. H«i also takes up the import
ant subject, tu the American breedei, of the Ass, and the Mule. This he treats at length and con
amore. The Philadelphia edition uf the Horse is a handsome octavo, with numerous wood-cuts."—
American Agriadturist.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

HAWKER AND PORTER ON SHOOTING,
INSTRUCTIONS TO YOUNG SPORTSMEN
IN ALL THAT RELATES TO GUNS AND SHOOTING
BY LIEUT. COL. P. HAWKER.
FROM THB ENLARGED AND IMPROVED NINTH LONDON EDITION
TO WHICH IS ADDED THE HUNTING AND SHOOTING OF NORTH AMERICA WITH
DESCRIPTIONS OP ANIMALS AND BIRDS, CAREFULLY COLLATED
FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES.
BY W. T. PORTER, ESQ,.
EDITOR OF THE N. Y. SPIRIT OF THE TIMES.
In one large octavo volume, rich extra cloth, with numerous Illustrations.
" Here is a book, a hand-book, or rather a text-book — one that contains the whole routine of the
science. It is the Primer, the Lexicon, and the Homer. Everything is here, from the minutest
portion of a gun-lock, to a dead Buffalo. The sportsman who reads tin's book understand] ngly, may
pass an examination. He will know the science, aud may give advice to others. Every sportsman,
and sportsmen are plentiful, should own this work. It should be a " vmle mecum." He should
be examined on its contents, and estimated by his abilities to answer. We have not been without
treatises on the art, but hitherto they have not descended into all the minutias of equipments and
qualifications to proceed to the completion. This work supplies deficiencies, and completes the
sportsman's library." — U. S. Gazette..
"No man in the country, that we wot of is so well calculated as our friend ofthe * Spirit' for the
task he has undertaken, and the result of his labours has been that he has turned out a work which
should be m the hands of every man in the land who owns a double-barrelled gun." — N. O. Picayune.
"A volume splendidly printed and bound, and embellished with numerous beautiful engravings,
which will doubtless be in great demand. No sportsman, indeed, ought to be without it, while the
general reader will find in its pages a fund of curious and useful information." — Richmond Whig.

THE BOG-,
BY WILLIAM YOUATT,
Author of " The Horse," <Scc.
WITH NUMEROUS AND BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS.
EDITED BY E. J. LEWIS, M. D. &c. &c.
In one beautifully printed volume, crown octavo.
LIST OF PLATES.
Head of Bloodhound— Ancient Greyhounds— The Thibet Dog— The Dingo, or New Holland Dog—
The Danish or Dalmatian Dog— The Hare Indian Dog— The Greyhound— The Grecian Greyhound
—Blenheims and Cockers— The Water Spaniel — The Poodle — The Alpine Spaniel or Bernardine
Dog— The Newfoundland Dog— The Esquimaux Dog— The English Sheep Dog— The Scotch Sheep
Dog — The Beagle — The Harrier — The Foxhound — Flan of Goodwood Kennel — The Southern
Hound— The Setter— The Pointer— The Bull Dog— The Mastiff— The Terrier— Skeleton of the
Dog — Teeth of the Dog at seven different ages.
" Mr. Youatt's work is invaluable to the student of canine history; it is full of entertaining an J
instructive matter for the general reader. To the sportsman it commends itself by the large amount
of useful information in reference to his pecuhar pursuits which it embodies — information which
he cannot find elsewhere in so convenient and accessible a form, and with so reliable an authority
to entitle it to his consideration. The modest preface which Df. Lewis has made to the Americao
edition of this work scarcely does justice to the additional value he has imparted to it; and the
pubhshers are entitled to great credit for the handsome manner m which they have got it up."—
North American.
THE SPORTSMAN'S
OR HINTS ON HUNTERS, HUNTING, HOUNDS, SHOOTIN G, GAME, DOGS, GUNS,
FISHING, COURSING, &c, &o.
BY JOHN MILLS, ESQ.,
Author of " The Old Enghsh Gentleman," &c.
In one well printed royal duodecimo volume, extra cloth.
STABLE TALE AND TABLE TALK,
OR SPECTACLES FOR TOUNG SPORTSMEN.
BY HARRY HIEOVER.
In one very neat duodecimo volume, extra cloth.
"These lively sketches answer to their title very well. Wherever Nimrod is welcome, there
should be coi'dial greeting for Harry Hieover. His hook is a verv clever one, and contains many
instructive hints, as well as much hght-hearted reading." — Examin&r.
THE DOG ANB THE SPOBTSMAH,
EMBRACING THE USES, BREEDING, TRAINING, DISEASES ETC OF DOGS, AND AN
ACCOUNT OF THE DIFFERENT KINDS OF GAME, WITH THEIR HABITS.
Also, Hints to Shooters, witll various useful Recipes, &c, &c»
BY J. S. SKINNER.
With Plates. In une very neat 12mo. volume. •xtra eluth.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.
FRANCATELLI'S MODERN FRENCH COOKERY.
THE MODERN COOK,
A PRACTICAL GUIDE TO THE CULINARY ART, IN ALL ITS BRANCHES, ADAPTED AS
WELL FOR THE LARGEST ESTABLISHMENTS AS FOR THE USE
OF PRIVATE FAMILIES.
BY CHARLES ELME FKANCATELLI,
Pupil ofthe celebrated Careme, and late Maitre D'Hotel and Chief Cook to her Majesty the Queen.
In one large octavo volume, extra cloth, with numerous illustrations.
"Tt appears to be the book of books on cookery, being a most comprehensive treatise on that art
preservative and conservative. The work comprises, in one large and elegant octavo volume, 1447
recipes for cooking dishes and desserts, with numerous illustrations; also bills of fare and direc
tions for dinners for every month ni the year, for companies of six persons to twenty-eight. ~Nat.
Intelligencer. "The ladies who read our Magazine, will thank us for calling attention to this great work on the
noble science of cooking, in winch everybody, who has any taste, feels a deep and abiding interest.
Francatelli is the Plato, the Shakspeare, or the Napoleon of his" department; or perhaps the La
Place, for his performance bears tne same relation to ordinary cook books that the Mecanique
Celeste does to Daboll's Arithmetic. It is a large octavo, profusely illustrated, and contains every
thing on the philosophy of making dinners, suppers, etc., that is worth knowing.— GraJiam's Magazine.
' nZOSEXtE-f COOKER'S- I2T ALL ITS BRANCHES,
REDUCED TO A SYSTEM OF EASY PRACTICE. FOR THE USE OF PRIVATE FA5ULIES.
IN A SERIES OF PRACTICAL RECEIPTS, ALL OF WHICH ARE GIVEN
WITH THE MOST MINUTE EXACTNESS.
BY ELIZA ACTON.
WITH NUMEROUS WOOD-CUT ILLUSTRATIONS.
TO WHICH IS ADDED, A TABLE OF WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.
THE WHOLE REVISED AND PHEPAllED FOB AMERICAN HOUSEKEEPERS.
BY MES. SARAH J. HALE.
From the Second London Edition. In one large 12mo. volume.
" Miss Eliza Acton may congratulate herself on having composed a work of great utility, and one
that is speedily finding its way to every ' dressei* in the kingdom. Her Cookery-book is unques
tionably the most valuable compendium of the art that has yet been published. It strongly incul
cates economical principles, and points out how good things may be concocted without that reck
less extravagance which good cooks have been wont to imagine the best evidence they can give of
skill in their profession." — London Morning Post.
PLAIN AND PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS POR COOKING AND HOUSEKEEPING,
WITH UPWARDS OP SEVEN HUNDRED RECEIPTS,
Consisting of Directions for the Choice of Meat and Poultry, Preparations for Cooking; Making of
Broths and Soups ; Boiling, Roasting, Baking and Frying of Meats, Fish, &c. ¦ Seasonings,
Colorings, Cooking Vegetables; Preparing- Salads ; Clarifying; Making of Pastry,
Puddings, Gruels, Gravies, Garnishes, -fee, &.c, and with general
Directions for making Wines.
WITH ADDITIONS AND ALTERATIONS.
BY J. M. SANDERSON,
OF THE FRANKLIN HOUSE.
In one small volume, paper. Price only Twenty-five Cents.
THE COIMETEAiuNi™ BAKER.
PLAIN AND PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS
FOR MAKING CONFECTIONARY AND TASTRY, AND FOR BAKING.
¦WITH UPWARDS OF FIVE HUNDRED RECEIPTS,
Consisting of Directions for making all sorts of Preserves, Sugar Boiling, Comfits Lozenges.
Ornamental Cakes, Ices, Liqueurs, Waters, Gum Paste Ornaments, Syrups, Jellies
Marmalades, Compotes, Bread Baking, Artificial Yeasts, Fancy
Biscuits, Cakes, Rolls, Muffins, Tarts, Pies, &c, &c.
WITH ADDITIONS AND ALTERATIONS.
BT PARKINSON,
PRACTICAL CONFECTIONER, CHESTNUT STREET.
In one small volume, paper. Price only Twenty-five Cents

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

JOHNSON AND LANDRETH ON FRUIT, KITCHEN
AND FLOWER GARDENING.
A DICTIONARY OF MODERN GARDENING,
BY GEORGE WILLIAM JOHNSON, ESQ.
Author of the " Principles of Practical Gardening," " The Gardener's Almanac," &c.
WITH ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY WOOD-CUTS.
EDITED, WITH NUMEROUS ADDITIONS, BY DAVID LANDRETH, OF PHILADELPHIA.
In one large royal duodecimo volume, extra cloth, of nearly Six Hundred and Fifty
double columned Pages.
This edition has been greatly altered from the original. Many articles of little interest to Ameri
cans have been curtailed or wholly omitted, and much new matter, with numerous illustrations,
added, especially with respect to the varieties of fruit which experience has shown to be pecuharly
adapted to our climate. Still, the editor admits that he has only followed in the path so admirably
marked out by Mr. Johnson, to whom the chief merit of the work belongs, it has been an object
with the editor and publishers to increase its popular character, thereby adapting it to the larger
class of horticultural readers in this country, and they trust it will prove what they have desired it
to be; an Encyclopaedia of Gardening, if not of Rural Affairs, so condensed and at such a price as to
be within reach of nearly all whom those subjects interest.
" This is a useful compendium of all that description of information which is valuable to the
modern gardener. It quotes largely from the best standard authors, journals, and transactions of
societies ; and the labours of the American editor have fitted it for the United States, by judicious
additions and omissions. The volume is abundantly illustrated with figures in the text, embracing
a judicious selection of those varieties of fruits which experience has shown to be well suited to the
United States. — Siltiman's Journal.
" This is the most valuable work we have ever seen on the subject of gardening ; and no man of
taste who can devote even a quarter of an acre to horticulture ought to be without it. Indeed la
dies who merely cultivate flowers toithin-doors, will find this book an excellent and convenient
counsellor. It contains one hundred and eighty wood-cut illustrations, which give a distinct idea
of the fruits and garden-arrangements they are intended to represent.
" Johnson's Dictionary of Gardening, edited by Landreth, is handsomely printed, well-bound, and
¦old at a price which puts it within the reach of all who would be likely to buy it."— Evergreen.
THE COMPLETE FLORIST.
A MANUAL OF GARDENING,
CONTAINING PRACTICAL INSTRUCTION FOR THE MANAGEMENT OF GREENHOUSE
PLANTS. AND FOR THE CULTIVATION OF THE SHRUBBERY— THE FLOWER
GARDEN, AND THE LAWN— WITH DESCRIPTIONS OF THOSE PLANTS
AND TREES MOST WORTHY OF CULTURE IN EACH
DEPARTMENT.
WITH ADDITIONS AND AMEHDMEHTS,
ADAPTED TO THE CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES.
In one small volume. Price only Twenty-five Cents.
THE COMPLETE KITCHEN AND FRUIT GARDENER.
A SELECT MANUAL OF KITCHEN GARDENING,
AND THE CULTURE OP FRUITS,
CONTAINING FAMILIAR DIRECTIONS FOR THE MOST APPROVED PRACTICE IN EACH
^DEPARTMENT, DESCRIPTIONS OF MANY VALUABLE FRUITS, AND A
" CALENDAR OF WORK TO BE PERFORMED EACH
MONTH IN THE YEAR.
THE WHOLE ADAPTED TO THE CLIMATE OF THE UNITED STATES.
In one small volume, paper. Price only Twenty-five Cents.
LANDRETTrTS RURAL REGISTER AND ALMANAC, FOR 1848,
¦WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.
STILL ON HAND,
A FEW COPIES OF THE REGISTER FOR 1847,
WITH OVER ONE HUNDRED WOOD-CUTS.
,_ „„,,, t„ ,«, i,™ i2mo pages, double columns. Though published annually and contain-
mJSn ZariacTth^pSfcipTpaS of Ine matter is of permanent utility to the horticulturist and

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

HUMAN HEALTH:
OR, THE INFLUENCE OF ATMOSPHERE AND LOCALITY, CHANGE OF AIR AND
CLLUATE, SEASONS, FOOD, CLOTHING, BATHING MINERAL SPRINGS,
ElERClSE, SLEEP, CORPOREAL AND MENTAL PUR
SUITS, ic, &C, ON HEALTHY MAN,
CONSTITUTING ELEMENTS OF HYGIENE.
BY. KOBLEY DTJNGLISON, M.D., &c.,&c.
In one octavo volume.
*»* Persons in the pursuit of health, as well as those who desire to retain
it, would do well to examine this work. The author states the work has
been prepared " to enable the general reader to understand the nature of
the actions of various influences on human health, and assist him in adopt
ing such means as may tend to its preservation : hence the author has
avoided introducing technicalities, except where they appeared to him indis
pensable." REMARKS ON THE INFLUENCE OF MENTAL EXCITEMENT,
AND MENTAL CULTIVATION UPON HEALTH.
BY A. BRIGHAM, M.D.
Third edition j one volume, 18mo.
A TREATISE ON
CORN'S, BUNIONS, THE DISEASES OF THE NAILS,
AND THE GENERAL MANAGEMENT OF THE FEET.
BY LEWIS DURLACHER,
BURGEON CHIROPODIST TO THE QUEEN.
In one duodecimo volume, cloth.
BRIDGE WAT EH TREATISES.
The whole complete in 7 vols. 8vo., various bindings,
COHTAIKINQ :
ROGET'S ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE PHYSIOLOGY, in 2 vols., with many cuts.
KIRBY ON THE HISTORY, HABITS AND INSTINCT OF ANIMALS, 1 vol., with plates.
PROUT ON CHEMISTRY— CHALMERS ON THE MORAL CONDITION OF MAN-WHEWELL
ON ASTRONOMY— BELL ON THE HAND— K1DD ON THE PHYSICAL CONDITION OF
MAN, 2 volumes.
BUCKLAND'S GEOLOGY, 2 vols., with numerous plates and maps.
Roget, Buckland, and Kirby are sold separate.
THE DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT OF THE SICK ROOM,
NECESSARY, IN AID OF MEDICAL TREATMENT, FOR THE CURE OF DISEASES.
BY A. T. THOMSON, M. D., &c. &c.
First American, from the Second London Edition. Edited by R. E.Griffith, M. D.
In one royal 12mo. volume, extra cloth, with cuts.
"There is no interference with the duties of the medical attendant, but sound, sensible, and
clear advice what to do, and how to act, so as to meet unforeseen emergencies, and co-operate
with professional skill."— Literary Gazette.
THE MILLWRIGHT AND MILLER'S GUIDE.
BY OLIVER EVANS.
THE ELEVENTH EDITION,
WITH ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS, BY THE PROFESSOR OP MECHA
NICS IN THE FRANKLIN INSTITUTE OP PENNSYLVANIA,
AND A DESCRIPTION OP AN IMPROVED MERCHANT FLOUR MILL.
WITH ENOBAVINGS.
BY 0. & O. EVANS, ENGINEERS.
This is a practical work, and has had a very extended sale

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

SCHOOL BOOKS.
BIRD'S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.
NEARLY READY.
ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY,
BEING AN EXPERIMENTAL INTRODUCTION TO THE PHYSICAL SCIENCES.
ILLUSTRATED WITH OVER THREE HUNDRED WOOD-CUT3.
BY GOLDING BIRD, M.D.,
Assistant Physician to Guy's Hospital.
FROM THE THIRD LONDON EDITION.
In one neat volume.
¦v^L'™^6?!^"06 ,of.Dr-,Bircl's ™>rk.,the student has now all that he can desire in one neat,
pT^e^^^^^^^ -plained in very sun-'
ARNOTT'S PHYSICS.
ELEMENTS OF PHYSICS; OR, NATURAL PHILOSOPHY,
GENERAL AND MEDICAL.
WRITTEN FOR UNIVERSAL USE, IN PLAIN, OR NON-TECHNICAL LANGUAGE.
BY NIELL ARNOTT, JVI.D.
A NEW EDITION, BY ISAAC HAYS, M.D.
Complete in one octavo volume, with nearly two hundred wood-cuts.
This standard work has been long and favourably known as one of the best popular expositions
ot the interesting science it treats of. lt is extensively used in many of the first seminaries'
ELEMENTARY CHEMISTRY, THEORETICAL AND PRACTICAL
BY GEORGE POWNES, Ph. D„
Chemical Lecturer in the Middlesex Hospital Medical School, &c, &c.
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS.
EDITED, WITH ADDITIONS,
BY ROBERT BRIDGES, M.D.,
Professor of General and Pharmaceutical Chemistry in the Philadelphia College of Pharmacy, &c, tfec.
SECOND AMERICAN EDITION.
In one large duodecimo volume, sheep or extra cloth, with nearly two
hundred wood-cuts.
The character of this work is such as to recommend it to all colleges and academies in want of a
text-book. It is fully brought up to the day, containing all the late views and discoveries that have
so entirely changed the face or the science, and it is completely illustrated with very numerous
wood engravings, explanatory of all the different processes and forms of apparatus. Though, strictly
Bcientific, it is written with great clearness and simplicity of style, rendering it easy to be compre
hended by those who are commencing the study.
It may be had well bound in leather, or neatly done up in strong cloth. Its low price places it
within the reach of all.
^Tre¥ste?s1)ptics.
ELEMBWTS OPOPTICS,
BY SIR DAVID BREWSTER.
WITH NOTES AND ADDITIONS, BY A. D. BACHE, LL.u.
Superintendent of the Coast Survey, &c
In one volume, 12mo., with numerous woodcut*

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

SCHOOL BOOKS.

BOLMAR'S FRENCH SERIES.
New editions of the following works, by A. Bolmar, forming, in con
nection with " Bolmar's Levizac," a complete series for the acquisition of
the French language.
A SELECTION OF ONE HUNDRED PERKIN'S FABLES,
ACCOMPANIED BY A KEY,
Containing the text, a literal and free translation, arranged in such a manner as to
point out the difference between the French and English idiom, &c, in 1 vol., 12mo.
A COLLECTION OF COLLOQUIAL PHRASES,
ON EVERY TOPIC NECESSARY TO MAINTAIN CONVERSATION,
Arranged under different heads, with numerous remarks on the peculiar pronunciation
and uses of various words; the whole so disposed aa considerably to facilitate the
acquisition of a correct pronunciation of the French, in 1 vol., 18uio.
LES AVENTURES DE TELEMAQUE PAR FENELON,
In 1 vol., 12mo., accompanied by a Key to the first eight books, in 1 vol., I2mo., con
taining, like the Fables, the text, a literal and free translation, intended as a sequel
to the Fables. Either volume sold separately.
ALL THE FRENCH VERBS,
Both regular and irregular, in a small volume.
NEARLY READY.

PRINCIPLES OF PHYSICS AND METEOROLOGY,
BY J. MULLER,
Professor of Physics at the University of Frieburg.
ILLUSTRATED WITH NEARLY FrVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY ENGRA VINOS ON WOOD, AND TWC
COLORED PLATES.
In one octavo volume.
This Edition is improved by the addition of various articles, and will be found in
every respect brought up to the time of publication.
"The Physics of Muller is a work, superb, complete, unique : the greatest want known to Eng
lish Science could not have been better supplied. The work is of surpassing interest. The value
of this contribution to tlie scientific records of this country may be duly estimated by the fact, that
the cost of the original drawings and engravings alone has exceeded the sum of 2000V— Lancet
March, 1817.
AN ATLAS OF ANCIENT GEOGHAPHY,
BY SAMUEL BUTLER, D.D.,
Late Lord Bishop of Litchfield,
CONTAINING TWENTY-ONE COLOURED MAPS, AND A COMPLETE ACCENTOATED INDEX,
In one octavo volume, half-bound.
BUTLER'S ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY.
GEOORAPHIA OLA3SICA,
®R, T*'E APPLICATION OP ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY TO TBE CLASSICS
BY SAMUEL BUTLER, D.D., F.R.S.
REVISED BY HIS SON.
FIFTH AMERICAN, FROM THB LAST LONDON EDITION,
WITH QUESTIONS ON THE MAPS, 3Y JOHN FROST.
In one duodecimo volume, half-bound, to match the. Atlas.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

MEDICAL BOOKS.

TO THE MEDICAL PROFESSION.
The following list embraces works on Medical ind other Sciences issued
by the subscribers. They are to be met with at all the principal bookstores
throughout the Union, and will be found as low in price as is consistent
with the correctness of their printing, beauty of execution, illustration, and
durability of binding. No prices are here mentioned, there being no fixed
standard, as it is evident that books cannot be retailet. a' the same rate in
New Orleans or Chicago as in Philadelphia. Any information, however,
relative to size, cost, &c, can be had on application, free of postage, to the
subscribers, or to any of the medical booksellers throughout the country.
LEA & BLANCHARD, Philadelphia.

DICTIONARIES, JOURNALS, &c.
AMERICAN JOURNAL OF THE ME
DICAL SCIENCES, quarterly, at $5 a
year.
AN ANALYTICAL COMPEND of the
various branches of Practical Medicine,
Surgery, Anatomy, Midwifery, Diseases
of Women and Children, Materia Medica
and Therapeutics, Physiology, Chemis
try and Pharmacy, by John Neill, M. D.,
and P. Gurney Smith, M. D., with nu
merous illustrations (nearly ready).
CYCLOPAEDIA OP PRACTICAL MEDI-
CINE, by Forbes, Tweedie, &c., edited .
by Dunglison, in 4 super royal volumes, I
3154 double columned pages, strongly
bound.
DITNGLISON'S MEDICAL DICTION
ARY, 6th ed., 1 vol. imp. 8vo., 804 large
pages, double columns.
HOBLYN'S DICTIONARY OP MEDI
CAL TERMS, by Hays, 1 vol. large
12mo., 402 pages, double columns.
MEDICAL NEWS AND LIBRARY,
monthly, at $1 a year.

i HORNER'S SPECIAL ANATOMY AND
HISTOLOGY, 7th edition, 2 vols. 8vo.,
many cuts, 1130 pages.
HORNER'S UNITED STATES' DIS
SECTOR, 1 vol. large royal 12mo., many
cuts, 444 pages.
QUAIN'S ELEMENTS OF ANATOMY,
by Sharpey, many cuts (preparing).
WILSON'S HUMAN ANATOMY, by
Goddard, 3d edition, 1 vol. 8vo., 235 wood
cuts, 620 pages.
WILSON'S DISSECTOR, or Practical and
Surgical Anatomy, with cuts, 1 vol.
12mo., 444 pages.

ANATOMY,
NATOMICAL ATLAS, by Smith and
Horner, large imp. 8vo„ G50 figures.

PHYSIOLOGY,
CARPENTER'S PRINCIPLES OF HU
MAN PHYSIOLOGY, edited byClymer,
1 vol. 8vo., over 300 illustrations, 3d
edition, with many additions.
CARPENTER'S ELEMENTS, OR MAN
UAL OF PHYSIOLOGY, 1 vol. 8vo.,
566 pages, many cuts.
CARPENTER'S COMPARATIVE ANA
TOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY, revised
by the author, with beautiful engravings
(preparing).
CONNECTION BETWEF.N PHYSI
OI.OGY AND INTELLECTUAL
SCIENCE, 1 vol. 18mo., paper, 25 cts.

LEA AND BLANCHARD'S PUBLICATIONS.

MEDICAL BOOKS.
CYCLOPEDIA OF ANATOMY AND ; WILSON ON THE SKIN, 1 vol. 8vo.,
PHYSIOLOGY, based on the large work \ 370 pages ; a new edition.

of Todd, in two vols, large 8vo„ numer
ous cuts (preparing).
DUNGLISON'S HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY,
6th edition, 2 vols. 8vo., 1350 pages, and
370 wood-cuts.
HARRISON ON THE NERVES, 1 vol.
8vo., 292 pages.
MULLER'S PHYSIOLOGY, by Bell, 1 vol.
8vo., 886 pages.
ROGET'S OUTLINES OF PHYSI
OLOGY, 8vo., 516 pages.
SOLLY ON THE HUMAN BRAIN, ITS \ ASHWELL ON THE DISEASES OF

Same Work, with coloured plates.
WILLIAMS' PATHOLOGY, OR PRIN
CIPLES OP MEDICINE, 1 vol. 8vo.,
384 pages.
WILLIAMS ON THE RESPIRATORY
ORGANS, by Clymer, 1 vol. 8vo„ 500
pages.

PRACTICE OF MEDICINE.

STRUCTURE, PHYSIOLOGY, AND
DISEASES (preparing).
TODD AND BOWMAN'S PHYSIOLO
GICAL ANATOMY AND PHYSI-i
OLOGY OF MAN, with numerous wood
cuts (publishing in the Medical News),
to be complete in one volume.

FEMALES, by Goddard, 1 vol. 8vo., 520

PATHOLOGY.
ABERCROMBIE ON TIIE STOMACH,
new edition, 1 vol. 8vo., 320 pages.
ABERCROMBIE ON THE BRAIN, new
edition, 1 vol. 8vo., 324 pages.
ALISON'S OUTLINES OF PATHO
LOGY, &c, 1 vol. 8vo., 420 pages.
ANDRAL ON THE BLOOD, translated
by Meigs and Stille, 1vol. small 8vo., 120

BERZELIUS ON THE KIDNEYS AND
URINE, 8vo., 180 pages.
BENNET ON THE UTERUS, 1 vol.
12mo., 146 pages.
BUDD ON THE LIVER, 1 vol. 8vo., 392
pages, plates and wood-cuts.
BILLING'S PRINCIPLES, 1 vol. 8vo., 304
pages.
BIRD ON URINARY DEPOSITS, 8vo.,
228 pages, cuts,
HASSE'S PATHOLOGICAL ANATO
MY., 8vo., 379 pages.
HOPE ON THE HEART, by Pennock, a
new edition, with plates, 1 vol. 8vo., 572
pages.
HUGHES ON THE LUNGS AND
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IN TWO OOTAVO VOLUMES.
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THE ASSERXOAif LAW OP REAL PROPERTY.
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Bar." Professor Greenleaf says :— " I had already found the firet edition a very convenient book of refe
rence, and do not doubt, from the appearance of the second, that it is greatly improved."
Professor J H Townsend, of Yale College, says :—
" I have be.-n acquainted for several years with the first edition of Mr. Hilliard's Treatise, and
have formed a very favourable opinion of it. 1 have no doubt the second edition will be found even
more vaTuable than the first, and I shaU he happy to recommend it as I may b,ve opportunity I
more vaiu,i ,„bj6ct of Real Estate, so comprehensive and so wed adapted to the
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ADDISON ON CONTRACTS.

A TREATISE ON THE LAW OP CONTRACTS AKD
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WHEATON'S INTERNATIONAL LAW.

ELEMENTS OP INTERNATIONAL LAW.
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A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON THE LAW RELATING TO TRUSTEES,
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BY JAMBS HILL, ESQ.,
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EDITED BY FRANCIS J. TKOUBAT,
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