The next year, 1678, when reports of Popish plots kept the nation in a constant alarm, he was twice heard before a committee of the House of Commons, in support of a petition which he presented on behalf of the Society of Friends. Their inability to take an oath, led to their being caught in the meshes of an Act intended for Catholics. William Penn explained their position with dignity and great candour. With characteristic boldness, though asking for a favour, he did not flinch from pleading for full liberty of conscience even for the hated Papists. The committee listened respectfully, and adopted his suggestions for the relief of Friends; but the sudden prorogation of Parliament prevented the bill from being carried.
It shows the perfect independence of Penn's mind that though he was on good terms with the King, he risked giving offence by his open and hearty sympathy with Algernon Sidney. That patriot, after long years of banishment was allowed to return home in 1677. Soon after, he yielded to the representations of his republican friends, and sought a seat in Parliament. First he tried Guildford, and then Bramber; but was not only hotly opposed by the court, but dishonourably and illegally tricked out of the seat. All through the struggle he had the enthusiastic and vigorous support of Penn, although at the time the affairs of Pennsylvania were far from settled, and he had so much reason to wish to keep the royal favour. Usually Penn kept clear of party politics, but on this occasion he canvassed and spoke for his friend with great zeal; so that the French Ambassador speaks of him and Sidney as the two trusted leaders of the republican party. But though Penn's action proves that he did not share the scruples of most of his brethren against participating in political affairs, yet it was probably the man and his principles that won his confidence, rather than the party with which he acted. Probably, Penn would have endorsed the early opinion of his father-in-law, Isaac Pennington, who wrote, (1651) "Whoever they are, whom I saw fitted for it (Government) and called to it, they should have my vote on their behalf." In the midst of politics and schemes of emigration, the stream of his polemical works still continued to flow, and every year saw one or more pamphlets from his pen.
Turning to his private life, in 1680, he lost his beloved father-in-law, Isaac Pennington. Though gifted with a refined mind and a loving heart, he had a nature far less robust and vigorous than his son-in-law, who shortly after his death edited his collected works. But a heavier blow followed. In 1682, Lady Penn died, and her death seems to have made him seriously ill for some time. She had clung to him when his adoption of Quakerism turned his father against him, and she took care of him when he was turned out of doors. She never accepted Quakerism, yet probably her gentle and loving nature had an influence with her son that the stern father never had.
Now begins the story of Pennsylvania. As boy and youth it had been his favourite dream that in America might be planted a new England, without the faults of the old—a home of civil and religious freedom. Events now ripened the scheme. On the one hand, fierce persecution urged him on; England and Germany seemed to be bent on driving out their most energetic and high-souled children. On the other, the way opened gradually and safely. In 1675, he was induced to become a manager of West New Jersey. After five years experience he bought East New Jersey in 1681, and in the same year the King granted him, by charter, the fine tract adjoining, now called Pennsylvania. This was in lieu of £16,000 due to his father for pay, and for money advanced in desperate times to strengthen the navy. We are told that the Admiral obtained the promise of this tract, having heard from a relative glowing accounts of its richness. From the first, the "holy experiment," as Penn called it, was popular. Algernon Sidney, with whom he kept up constant correspondence, and whom he loved as a brother, helped him to sketch a constitution for it. The Quakers, who had long been discussing (especially since George Fox's visit to America in 1672) some scheme of colonisation, were ready to supply emigrants of the right class in large numbers. He had but to publish a sketch of the intended constitution, and a statement of the resources and attractions of the colony, and the response was immediate.
The constitution which he gave to Pennsylvania, and which he spent many of the best years of his life in reducing to practice, has been universally admired. Hepworth Dixon has sought for the genius of it in the experiences of ancient Greece, and in the dreams of More and Sir Philip Sidney. Penn was, indeed, acquainted with these, but his inspiration was found in the instincts and aims of Quakerism. Plato and Sir Thomas More, and even Algernon Sidney, had less to do with his constitution than had George Fox. He found in the Society to which he belonged a body combining a rare amount of freedom with admirable organisation—a Society with abundant elasticity yet with excellent discipline and cohesion. Quakerism not only acknowledges that methods and governments exist for the sake of men, it believes that manhood, especially sanctified manhood, is the great security of liberty and justice. Its aim is to give scope to the individual to live out the dictates of his own conscience, and to contribute his utmost share to the general well-being. We are greatly mistaken if this was not also the aim of Penn in the constitution which he gave Pennsylvania.[10]
[10] "In the constitution of the colony he was assisted by Algernon Sidney, and at Worminghurst and Penshurst the two friends drew up its several articles. That it established perfect freedom of conscience, it is needless to remark. It established also a no less absolute freedom of trade; Penn sacrificing to this desire the sums which he might have received from the sale of monopolies. The constitution was democratic; a council of seventy-two, elected for three years, formed the Senate, which Penn intended to be the deliberative body; an assembly, elected by ballot and universal suffrage, and paid [they received threepence per mile for travelling expenses, six shillings a day while in the assembly, and the Speaker ten shillings a day] confirmed or rejected the Acts of the Council. Trial by jury gave scope to public opinion, but the provision that the judges were chosen only for two years, and could then be removed by the Assembly, impaired the administration of justice. Religion was left to voluntary efforts. [State] education was carefully provided for. The Indians were treated on principles of such manifest justice, that they became the friends of the new Colony, and no Quaker blood was shed by them." Short Sketches, pp. 151-2.
Unfortunately for the perfect realisation of his hopes, such a scheme, like Quakerism, needs grand men to work it. The maxims of Heaven cannot be worked out by the instincts of earth. Had the other Friends in Pennsylvania shared his spirit of lofty self-sacrifice, the story of this State might have been more noble and stimulating even than it is. But from the first, Quakers shrank from the turmoil and cares of official life. But this shrinking only makes more striking the unconquerable spirit that animated Penn. He could suffer and be strong. He could "scorn delights and live laborious days." To the end, he retained the reins of Pennsylvania affairs in his own hands as proprietor, though he might have got rid at once of his burden of growing debt and of the corroding care, by selling out. But one thing restrained him; says his noble wife, "My husband might have finished it [the deed of surrender] long since had he not insisted so much on gaining privileges for the people." (Logan's Life, p. 56). And so even when the load was crushing him he continued to bear it rather than mar the "holy experiment," the great ambition of his life. This power of resolute and skilful persistence until his ends were gained, had won for his father wealth and honours. He, recognising it as his noblest gift, chose it as the fittest offering which he could place on God's altar. His life thus stands as a rare instance of thankless toil for the honour of God and the welfare of man, persisted in through weariness, suffering, and loss, and resulting in unsurpassed usefulness.
The first band of emigrants left England in 1682, under the charge of Penn's cousin, Colonel Markham, who was appointed Deputy-Governor. Penn himself followed on the 1st of September, landing at Newcastle, on the 27th of October. He left behind him a farewell letter to his wife, full of tender assurances of love, and of wise and highly characteristic advice as to the training of their children. He at once summoned the General Assembly to adopt the constitution he had prepared. "There was little talk and much work in the first Pennsylvanian Parliament. On the third day their session was completed, and Penn prorogued them in person. They had left their ploughs for half-a-week, and had met together and founded a State."
Penn soon won the hearts of the Red Indians. "A lady who lived to be a hundred, used to speak of the Governor as being rather of a short stature, but the handsomest, best looking, lively gentleman she had ever seen." "He endeared himself to the Indian by his marked condescension and acquiescence in their wishes. He walked with them, sat with them on the ground, and ate with them of their roasted acorns and hominy. At this they expressed their great delight, and soon began to show how they could hop and jump; at which exhibition, William Penn, to cap the climax, sprang up and beat them all." No wonder that some of the very staid Quakers thought him "too prone to cheerfulness for a grave 'public Friend,'" that is, a minister of the Gospel. But without that elasticity that led to the ready jest and the hearty enjoyment of simple pleasures, the burdened brain must have collapsed before it did. His was an intense nature, keen both in suffering and in enjoyment, doing with its might whatsoever it found to do.
Shortly after this he concluded his memorable treaty with the Indians—"the only treaty," says Voltaire, "between those people and the Christians that was not ratified by an oath, and that was never broken." "The treaty," says Dr. Stoughton, "was probably made with the Delaware tribes as 'a treaty of amity and friendship,' and not for the purchase of territory." But the details of the story seem wrapped in impenetrable mystery. "The speeches made, the dresses worn, and the surrounding scene, appear now to be altogether fictitious."