As regards the tree which was in its prime when this group, beautiful in the sight of heaven, stood under its branches, our readers may have an interest in knowing that it was situate on the northern side of Philadelphia, and was standing until March 3rd, 1810, when it was blown down. A marble monument now marks the place where it stood. “It was a remarkably wide-spreading rather than lofty tree, its main branch measuring 150 feet; its age, as computed by its circles of annual growth, was 283 years. While it stood, the Methodists and Baptists held their summer meetings under its shade.” It was truly a “gospel tree.” The treaty of peace made on this occasion was never broken on either side for seventy years—as long as the Quakers retained the government of the province. The terrible and bloody Indian war of New England was but a few years passed; Maryland and Virginia were in a state of continual hostility with these very Algonquin or Delaware Indians, who were naturally inclined for peace; so also the Dutch. It remained alone for William Penn and his friends, who believing God’s word implicitly—that Christ’s law was one of love, not of violence—came in the guise of peace; and through all the numerous records of quaker life in America, even in the midst of Indian warfare and outrage, not one drop of quaker blood was shed. To be a Quaker, to possess no “weapon of war,” was to be safe from Indian danger. Many a beautiful and touching narrative is related, in the early Friends’ books, of solitary dwellers in the great woods of Virginia and Maryland, when, on the approach of the Indians, who had left fire and desolation behind them, “the fierce dogs that usually kept the place” were cowed into silence, and the pious people, to use their own phraseology, “not having been free in their minds” to take in the string which lifted the latch—their only means of security—lay wakeful, listening to the coming footsteps of the foe, who, on finding the latch-string trustfully outside the door, “spake a few Indian words, and went on.” Once only was the calm of peace disturbed. A rumour passed through the province, in the year 1688, that 500 Indians were assembled on the Brandywine to massacre the settlers. On this, Caleb Pusey and five other Friends presented themselves unarmed before them, to inquire the cause of this report. “The great God,” said the Quaker, addressing the sachem, “who made all mankind, extends his love to Indians and English. The rains and the dews fall alike on the ground of both; the sun shines on us equally, and we ought to love one another.” “What you say is true,” returned the red chieftain; “go home, and harvest the corn which God has given you: we mean you no harm.”