What a noble testimony is this to the divine nature and perfect adaptation of Christianity to all human purposes; and yet when has it been imitated? and how little is heard of it! From that day to the present both Americans and English have gone on outraging and expelling the natives from their lands; and it was but the other day that the English officers at the Cape were astonished that a similar conduct towards the Caffres produced a similar result. How lost are the most splendid deeds of the Christian philosopher on the ordinary statesman! But the Friends are a peaceable people, and “doing good they blush to find it fame.” If they would make more noise in the world, and din their good deeds in its ears, they would be never the worse citizens. The landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in America is annually celebrated in New England with great ceremony and eclat. It has been everywhere extolled by those holding similar religious views, and has been eulogised in poetry and prose. The landing of the Friends in Pennsylvania was a landing of the Pilgrim Fathers not less important: they went there under similar circumstances: they fled from persecution at home—a bitterer and more savage persecution even than befel the Puritans—to seek a home in the wilderness. They equalled the good Roger Williams in their justice to the Indians—they bought their lands of them—and they far exceeded him and his followers in their conception of the power of Christianity, and their practical demonstration of it. They are the only people in the history of the world that have gone into the midst of a fierce and armed race, and a race irritated with rigour too, without arms;[41] established a state on the simple basis of justice, and to the last hour of their government maintained it triumphantly on the same. Their conduct to the Indians never altered for the worse; Pennsylvania, while under their administration, never became, as New England, a slaughter-house of the Indians. The world cannot charge them with the extinction of a single tribe—no, nor with that of a single man! It is delightful to close this chapter of American settlements with so glorious a spectacle of Christian virtue;—would to God that it were but more imitated![42] CHAPTER XXIII. THE ENGLISH IN AMERICA TILL THE REVOLT OF THE COLONIES. In Carolina’s palmy bowers, Amid Kentucky’s wastes of flowers, Where even the way-side hedge displays Its jasmines and magnolias; O’er the monarda’s vast expanse Of scarlet, where the bee-birds glance Their flickering wings, and breasts that gleam Like living fires;—that dart and scream— A million little knights that run Warring for wild-flowers in the sun;— His eye might rove through earth and sky, His soul was in the days gone by.