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philanthropist as William Penn, who, assisted by Algernon Sydney, composed a wise code of laws for the government of the country.. The manner of Penn's coming into possession of so vast an inheritance was singular, and to posterity will appear providential. He inherited from his family a claim on the English government of sixteen thousand pounds; in those days not only a large sum, but one inconvenient to pay when royal treasuries were more often bare than filled with treasure. Penn had laboured hard over the apparently hopeless task of establishing freedom in England; and besides making only a faint impression for good, he thrice saw his friend Algernon Sydney cheated out of a seat in the House of Commons, after being properly elected. Discouraged and depressed by what he saw at home, he looked wistfully towards the New World, where opportunities existed for cultivating the freedom which seemed to be dying a natural death in Britain. The family debt was too large a consideration to entirely forego, and there being no likelihood of ever receiving cash, it was proposed that a tract of country, marked on the map with ill-defined boundaries, should be given as satisfaction for the money. A clamour of opposition was raised against Penn's proposal at the court of Charles; but the King was glad to make a concession which would so easily wipe off a disagreeable obligation. When the territory was granted, however, many difficulties to settle remained. Even in regard to the name of the new country divers opinions were expressed. "New Wales" was suggested, and objected to by a member of the council, who, as a native of the Principality, abhorred the very name of Quaker, and "New Wales" was to be a Quaker settlement ! Penn ventured on suggesting "Sylvania." The king liked "Sylvania:" it suited the nature of the wooded country; and if " Penn " were prefixed Charles thought the two words would make quite a rhythmical compound. The modest petitioner thought otherwise. Surely it would savour of vanity to name, what was destined to progress into a great state, after himself and his family. He actually sought, and tried strenuously to have "Penn" omitted. Charles would not yield to any entreaty. The two words thus ingeniously wedded, carried too musical a sound to warrant alteration. The king had joined them together and they should not be parted. The name was, therefore, entered in the charter where it still remains-PENNSYLVANIA.
Penn now commanded a vast property, and inherited corresponding responsibilities. Having set his heart on governing the new province in person, he sailed, in 1682, from Deal, with about a hundred emigrants. Just before embarking the Governor lost his mother by death, in addition to which trial he experienced great solicitude for Guli and her children; and to these latter he wrote a long letter of parting. Not knowing whether he should ever again see his family in the flesh, the kind-hearted husband and father wrote down his wishes in regard to their procedure; and this document yet testifies to the affectionate nature of its author, no less than to his business shrewdness. But if Penn supposed it possible that he might never see his dependants again after stepping on board the Welcome, how must his forebodings have darkened, when out in the open sea small-pox broke out in the little barque and commenced its plague-like ravages. It was a time of distress and terror, during which about a third part of the passengers died.
In such crises the true greatness of Penn appeared. No less generous than fearless, he cheerfully relinquished his own stores for the use of the sick, and constantly visited the infected cabins to impart to the patients the consolations of the gospel.
After having endured these horrors of the sea, Penn thankfully landed in his kingdom, and soon exemplified to the world what a potent influence could be exercised over the untutored redskins by Christian love and justice. Probably one of the most remarkable treaties ever agreed to in this world by people of opposite races was drawn up without being either sealed or sworn to, under an elm tree in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia. Neither violence nor injustice of any kind was to be done to the Indians. Whatever they supplied would be paid for, and their hunting grounds were not to be enclosed without treating for the right to do so, and obtaining full permission. The fabric of the entire state was to be founded in truth, on the basis of Christianity. The Indians who may have heard of other forerunners of civilisation from the distant nations of pale faces-fire and gunpowder-were no less delighted than surprised. The words spoken to them, in irresistible affectionate earnestness, went straight to their hearts, and completely conquered their rude but susceptible natures. It was seen, too, by others, that a man like Penn, in his open-handed unselfishness, in his rare devotion to God, and unceasing solicitude for man, could not make enemies either among whites or blacks. Even the Dutch settlers, who gathered about him on his first landing, begged to be allowed the privilege of annexing their territory to Pennsylvania. The outspokenness and unselfish honesty of the man captivated all in
In a little more than two years after Penn's landing in Pennsylvania about fifty vessels arrived with emigrants from the British Isles and the Continent of Europe. Numbers of these poor people, who landed during the cold weather were exposed to much privation; but the sufferings associated with having to build houses ere necessary shelter could be obtained, or being obliged to labour at timber-felling and land-tilling simultaneously, were preferred to the prisons and ceaseless persecutious of the Old World. Philadelphia, as a city, named and planned by the Governor before the first stone of her future greatness was laid, speedily rose into existence; Penn himself with superior knowledge and business tact directing the builders. Quaker meetings were set up, and a port established; while neither the art of the printer nor the services of the schoolmaster were overlooked. There were hardships to be borne, and difficulties to be conquered; the little band bore the hardships with patience, and overcame the difficulties with the determination of people who had God for their strength. The wilderness had its mercies. "The wild pigeons came in such numbers," we are told, "that the air was sometimes darkened with their flight; and flying low, those that had no other means to take them, sometimes supplied themselves by throwing at them as they flew, and salting up what they could not eat, they served them for bread and meat in one. They were thus supplied, at times, for the first two or three years, by which time they had raised sufficient out of the ground by their own labour; those settlers had at this time neither horses nor plough, but
tilled the ground with hoes. The natives were remarkably kind to them, in supplying them with such provisions as they could spare, and were otherwise serviceable in many respects."
Other glimpses into the every day life of the settlers are afforded by the letters sent home to England. "After some time," one wrote, "I set up a mill on Chester-creek, which I brought, ready framed, with me from London, which served for grinding of corn and sawing of boards, and was of great use to us. Besides, I, with Joshua Tittery made a net, and caught great quantities of fish, which supplied ourselves and many others; so that notwithstanding it was thought near three thousand persons came in the first year, we were so providentially provided for that we could buy a deer for about two shillings, and a large turkey for about one shilling, and Indian corn for about two shillings and sixpence a bushel. And, as our worthy proprietor treated the Indians with extraordinary humanity, they became very civil and loving to us, and brought in abundance of venison. As in other countries, the Indians were exasperated by hard treatment, which hath been the occasion of much bloodshed, the contrary treatment here hath produced their love and affection."
January, the Gate of the Year.
HE year was dying, and I stood
And motley groups of old and young,
And those who wept and those who sung,
The rich and poor were there.
"But what of the dawning year?" they cried:
To one a widow, to one a bride;
What hidden changes shall betide
The peasant and the king?"
Statesmen were there, whose eager gaze
Could tell no more than this:
The figure of these coming days
Is hidden by the shifting haze
Pastors were there, with gentle mien,
And brows that spoke of care;
To pray, as though their thoughts had been :
And, lightly, some did jesting wait
The coming year to greet;
To them it brought the welcome date
To suffer?-aye, perchance to die :
In this world's ceaseless moil.
And friends stood there alone that day :
The hands that in life's rugged way
'Mid eyes that watch, and hands that mark,
When, looking up, I saw the gate,
And, rushing forward to their fate,
And as I feared to cross the door
Methought the Lord whom I adore
But, clinging ever to thy side,
Haste on from year to year,
Until, at length, I stand before
A fairer gate than this;
When, all life's care and labour o'er
Thy hand shall lead me through the door
M. J. L.
LONDON rambler has done good service to the lowest ranks of the London poor, and to the City Mission which so ably befriends them, by putting his observations into a book and calling it, "The Romance of the Streets." From the fact that several of the chapters have appeared in The Sword and the Trowel, the reader will at once detect our good friend Mr. Pike, under the nom de plume of A London Rambler," and we trust they will like the work none the less for that. We were asked to give a review of our friend's volume, and we thought it better to serve up a brief article composed of scraps from the romance. An African woman complained bitterly that her husband did not love her, and cited as conclusive evidence the fact that he had never beaten her ; we hope Mr. Pike will not conclude that he has no share in our esteem, because we shall not lay our critical whip about his shoulders. If he does reason so perversely, we will let him wait till he produces something else, and then oblige him as far as we can. His interesting matter would atone for a good many faults of style, and his ardent desire to do good would disarm any censorious critic; but, apart from this, he has written well, and his book will command an audience.
If one wants romance, he will find it more readily in real life among the poor than in the pages of fiction, for after reading one or two novels with plots and denouements, one ceases to feel that such things are romantic; but it is not so in actual life, which remains ever vivid and exciting. What a situation for a novel would be the following! "A Southwark missionary, after groping up a dark staircase, entered a garret, the inmates of which, mistaking him for the doctor, at first received him respectfully. The room sheltered three women, two of whom were crouching over the fire; but on a bed lay another woman, one of those pitiable objects-a dying drunkard. She no sooner recognised the Christian visitor than she called out in piercing shrieks, bordering on an unearthly yell, 'Leave me! LEAVE ME! Reading the Bible, speaking of judgment and repentance, filled the poor creature with terror; and as it was impossible to calm her apprehensions, she was left in the hands of him who will judge faithfully."
The following incident has also a sufficiency of the sensational in it, only it is the sensationalism of truth. Would to God that such cases were few and far between. "In the vicinity of a brilliant concert-room was once encountered a showily-attired girl, about twenty years of age, whose experience and state of mind illustrate the truth of the words, The way of transgressors is hard.' 'My friend, will you take a tract?" said the missionary. Startled, and gazing as if bereft of speech, the girl needed to have the question repeated, before giving the curt rejoinder, Can't read.' 'I am sorry for that,' returned the other, little suspecting the hidden meaning of can't. Perhaps some one will read it to you.' But the woman trembled, and her eyes flashed wildly, as she added, 'CAN'T read; must not read. If I read I think; AND IF I WERE TO THINK I SHOULD GO MAD.' Having said this she hurried off, and was lost sight of in the darkness."
How deeply interesting is such a narrative as the following:-" One
"The Romance of the Streets." By a London Rambler. Hodder and Stoughton,