gent ease which he led. He received the Indian Chiefs sometimes in the open air, at other times in his house, and conferred with them, arranging various treaties, and providing for their security against imposition by the settlers, and against the introduction of ardent spirits. Here, after entertaining them in his great hall, he suffered them to dance their wild dance on his lawn, and the benevolent governor looked with interest on the rude gestures of the children of the forest. He visited them in their woods, and by the running streams under their shade; he witnessed and joined in their feasts. And so thoroughly did he win their hearts, that, when the rumour of his departure reached them, the Indians crowded from all quarters to the capital, to gaze on the familiar face and pour forth, for his safety and return, their wishes and prayers. He visited the local courts of the magistrates, and watched their administration of justice; and, not content with the duties of governor, he made circuits as a preacher; and the won dering inhabitants saw the man, whom they had witnessed, as governor, addressing his message to the assembly or negotiating with other governors of the States, enter the Quaker meeting, to exhort and preach, and kneel a suppliant in the attitude and with the accents of prayer. His humility and piety struck them more than his powers, and to these he joined a princely charity,* for to the sufferer and the poor,

*See Anecdotes, Clarkson ii. pp. 213, 230.

his heart and hand were always open. In this life of active usefulness and affluent comfort, he desired to spend the remainder of his days; and it might have been hoped that the evening of life might have so passed. But from this he was roused by a new effort, made in England, to dispossess him of his government, which, as he thought, could be thwarted only by his presence; and to England, reluctantly and sadly, he returned. He had now to learn how different from the feelings of the Indians, were those of his own colonists. In vain he applied to them, for aid to maintain the government, and supplies to defray his charges to England. Both requests were refused. The time of the assembly was spent in framing demands for concessions, and proposing alterations in the Charter; and he had to purchase harmony by enlarging their powers, and by consenting to forego his claim.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CLOSING SCENE.

THE last scene of Penn's chequered life closed in clouds. return to England in 1702, at the He had still a vigorous frame and a

He was, on his age of fifty-six. mind unbroken.

But both were to be tried. He was indeed, soon relieved from the fears he had felt on the side of the Government. William was too just to tolerate the proposal to dispossess Penn of his Colony. On the death of William, the accession of Anne gave Penn a royal friend. He renewed his access to the Court, living first at Holland House and then in Knightsbridge. Godolphin was on friendly terms with him; so was the great Marlborough. One blow came from his own circle, from the surviving son of his first and cherished wife. While Penn was settled on the Delaware, his son, now his heir, had run into excesses for which, even under the restraints of his father's eye, he had shewn a taste: and when, after Penn's return, he was sent to Pennsylvania, to try the effect of an

active life, he scandalized the province by his depravity, abjured the Quaker communion, and defied provincial authority. Forced at last, amidst mutual dislike and disgust, to return home, he brought complaints, regrets, and sorrow to his father's heart.

But a trial as keen was found by Penn, where his trusting nature had least looked for it-in the colonists, over whom he had so generously watched. So long as he had expended his own resources, with a lavish hand, in their government, they were content; but we have seen that when, with fortunes broken, and estates embarrassed, he had asked of them a temporary loan, not one farthing would the thriving settlers of Pennsylvania contribute; not one penny out of those ample means, which, through his forethought and care, they had gathered. They left him to provide, as he could, for his comfort, and even for the government. Nay, when the charter of the colony was assailed, at the close of William's reign, and when the settlers agreed that Penn's presence and personal influence in England were necessary, in vain did he represent to them, that he was without funds for his passage; they steadily refused to supply them, and left him to raise money, by the sale of a part of his Pennsylvanian domains: worse still, they took advantage of his need to propose, that he should lower the price of the unsold land, from which he drew his revenue, and

N

that he should hand over to them, without charge, the bay-marshes, which were of great value.

Later, when the fraud of his steward led to an attack on Penn's interest in the colony, though a few sympathized, many rejoiced, as they thought these difficulties might turn to their profit; and the mass were indifferent. With unparalleled baseness, the colonists seized Penn's land, assailed his rights, and withheld his rents. And when Penn, saddened, but not soured, by their ingratitude, sought, with weakened strength, to transfer to the colony the last days of his failing powers— when, broken in health and fortune, he asked that the colonists would settle upon him only £600 a-year, his appeal to the Friends (such friends!) was met by indifference; and, though they professed to love his person and value his presence, they would not purchase it by the sacrifice of one penny of their means. Mournful and shameful page in the history of mankind! Nor was this all; the turbulence of the Assembly, and their quarrels with Penn's deputy, suspended legislation and paralyzed government; and while the old boundary question was revived, and, an unrighteous attempt was made, in England, to assail Penn's title to the colony, he was harassed by the uncomplying and indefatigable hostility of his own Colonial Assembly. After endeavouring, through very weariness, to rid himself of the burden of his favourite colony by a cession to the Crown, and failing in this, because, with