'_This is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith._' It
was by his faith that he obtained his _second_ great triumph--his
conquest of the world _without_. He disarmed nations by confiding in
them. He bound men to himself by trusting them. He vanquished men by
believing in them. It was always by his faith that he overcame.
When the admiral died, the nation was in his debt to the extent of
sixteen thousand pounds. This amount--on its recovery--Sir William
bequeathed to his son. In due time the matter was compounded, William
Penn agreeing to accept an immense belt of virgin forest in North
America in full settlement of his claim. He resolved to establish a new
colony across the seas under happier conditions than any State had ever
known. It should be called Pennsylvania; it should be the land of
freedom; its capital should be named Philadelphia--the City of Brotherly
Love. He was reminded that his first task would be to subdue the
Indians. The savages, everybody said, must be conquered; and William
Penn made up his mind to conquer them; but he determined to conquer them
in his own way. '_This is the victory that overcometh the world, even
our faith._' The Indians were accustomed to slaughter. They understood
no language but the language of the tomahawk and the scalping-knife.
Ever since the white man had landed on American shores, the forests had
resounded with the war-whoops of the tribesmen. One night a colonial
settlement had been raided by the red men: the next an Indian village
had been burned, and its inhabitants massacred by the outraged whites.
The Indians looked with hatred upon the smoke of the English
settlements; the settlers dreaded the forests which protected the
ambush, and secured the retreat of their murderous foes. William Penn
conquered the Indians, and conquered them--according to his text--_by
his faith_. 'He will always be mentioned with honor,' Macaulay says, 'as
a founder of a colony who did not, in his dealings with a savage people,
abuse the strength derived from civilization, and as a lawgiver who, in
an age of persecution, made religious liberty the cornerstone of his
policy.'
Immediately upon his arrival he called the Indians to meet him. They
gathered under the great elm at Shakamaxon--a spot that is now marked by
a monument. He approached the chiefs unarmed; and they, in return, threw
away their bows and arrows. Presents were exchanged and speeches made.
Penn told the natives that he desired nothing but their friendship. He
undertook that neither he nor any of his friends should ever do the
slightest injury to the person or the property of an Indian; and they,
in reply, bound themselves 'to live in love with Onas'--as they called
him--'and with the children of Onas, as long as the sun and the moon
shall endure.' 'This treaty of peace and friendship was made,' as
Bancroft says, 'under the open sky, by the side of the Delaware, with
the sun and the river and the forest for witnesses. It was not confirmed
by an oath; it was not ratified by signatures and seals; no written
record of the conference can be found; and its terms and conditions had
no abiding monument, but on the heart. _There_ they were written like
the law of God and were never forgotten. The simple sons of the
wilderness, returning to their wigwams, kept the history of the covenant
by strings of wampum, and, long afterwards, in their cabins, they would
count over the shells on a clean piece of bark and recall to their own
memory, and repeat to their children or to the stranger, the words of
William Penn.' The world laughed at the fantastic agreement; but the
world noticed, at the same time, that, whilst the neighboring colonies
were being drenched in blood and decimated by the barbarity of the
Mohicans and the Delawares, the hearths of Pennsylvania enjoyed an
undisturbed repose. No drop of Quaker blood was ever shed by an Indian.
So complete was the victory of the faith of William Penn!
Nor was the conquest merely negative. When, after a few years, the
Quakers began to swarm across the Atlantic to people the new settlement,
they were confronted by experiences such as await all pioneers, in young
colonies. There were times of stress and privation and hardship. The
stern voice of necessity commanded even delicate women to undertake
tasks for which their frames were far too frail. In that emergency the
Indians came to the rescue. The red men worked for them, trapped for
them, hunted for them, and served them in a thousand ways. 'You are all
the children of Onas!' they said. Nothing delighted the Indians more
than to receive the great Onas as their guest. A feast was arranged in
the depths of the forest, bucks were killed, cakes were cooked, and the
whole tribe abandoned itself to festivity and rejoicing. And when, years
afterwards, they heard that Onas was dead, they sent his widow a
characteristic message of sympathy, accompanied by a present of
beautiful furs. 'These skins,' they said, 'are to protect you whilst
passing through the thorny wilderness without your guide.' The story of
the founding of Pennsylvania is, as a classical writer finely says, 'one
of the most beautiful incidents in the history of the age.' It was the
victory of faith--_the faith that overcometh the world_!
V
'_This is the Victory!_'
'_The Victory that overcometh the World!_'
_The World Within! The World Without!_
'His character always triumphed,' says Bancroft. 'His name was fondly
cherished as a household word in the cottages of the old world; and not
a tenant of a wigwam from the Susquehannah to the sea doubted his
integrity. His fame is as wide as the world: he is one of the few who
have gained abiding glory.'
_The Conquest of the world!_
'_Nobody doubted his integrity!_'
'_He gained abiding glory!_'
'_This is the Victory that overcometh the World, even our Faith!_'