A Chocta chief, named Red-shoes, came the following year, and proposed to trade. “We come from a great distance,” said he, “and we are a great nation. The French built forts amongst us. We have long traded with them, but they are poor in goods; we desire that a trade may be opened between ourselves and you.”

The good faith which Oglethorpe kept in his transactions with the Indians, his noble demeanour and bearing, and the sweetness of his temper, won for him the confidence of the red men. He was pleased with their simple manners and customs, and endeavoured to enlighten their minds and to instruct them in the knowledge of that God whom they ignorantly worshipped.

The laws which Oglethorpe framed for Georgia, forbade the introduction both of intoxicating liquor and of slavery. “Slavery,” said he, “is contrary to the Gospel, as well as to the fundamental law of England. We will not permit a law which allows such horrid crimes.” And when later, various of “the better class of people” endeavoured to introduce negro slaves, Oglethorpe resolutely opposed it, and declared, that if slaves were introduced into Georgia, he would no longer concern himself with the colony. He continued steadfast, enforcing his determination by his almost arbitrary power, although many of the planters, in the belief that they could not successfully cultivate the land with white labourers, threatened to leave the colony.

Oglethorpe continued to labour with unabated activity for the well-being and prosperity of the province, extending and securing its boundaries, establishing towns, and regulating the commonwealth. He visited the evangelical brethren at Ebenezer, laid out the streets of their new town, and praised their good management. Within a few years the product of raw silk within this little settlement had increased to ten thousand pounds annually; besides which, indigo had become a staple article of traffic. They also opposed the introduction of negro slaves in the most earnest manner, maintaining that the whites could labour equally well under the sun of Georgia. Their religion united them with each other. They settled their own disputes. Labour was with them worship, and worship the business of their lives. They had peace and were happy.

From the Moravian towns Oglethorpe journeyed southward, passing through narrow inland channels, the shores of which were covered with woods of pine, evergreen oaks, and cedars, which grew down to the water’s edge, and which resounded with the melody of birds. On St. Simon’s Island, fire having cleared the grass from an old Indian field, the streets of Frederica were laid out, and, amid the carolling of hundreds of birds, a fort was constructed on a bluff commanding the river.

The Highlands of Scotland had already sent a company of bold mountaineers, who sought for a home under Oglethorpe’s banner; and Oglethorpe, attired in the highland costume, now sailed up the Altamaha, to visit them at Darien, near the mouth of that river, where they had located themselves.

In 1734, Oglethorpe, after about fifteen months’ residence in his colony, made a voyage to England, taking with him Tomo-chichi and others of the Creeks, to do homage at the English court, and to confirm his report of the friendly relationship with the Indians. In 1736 he returned, bringing with him 300 emigrants, whom he cared for like a father. Reaching the shore, he ascended with his companions a rising ground, not far from Tybee Island, where they all fell on their knees, and returned thanks to God for having safely conducted them to Georgia. Among these was a second company of Moravians, men who had “a faith above fear,” and who in the simplicity of their lives seemed to revive the primitive Christian communities where rank and state were unknown. With this company came also John and Charles Wesley, Charles the secretary to Oglethorpe, and both burning with a desire to become apostles of Christ among the Indians, and to live in the New World a life wholly and entirely consecrated to God. They desired to make Georgia a religious colony. The Wesleys, however, found the sting as well as the trail of the serpent in this religious garden of Eden, and that through the guile of two young and fair women, one of whom early compelled Charles to retire to England, whither he was sent ostensibly as the bearer of despatches. The preaching of John excited the utmost religious fervour, and balls were deserted to listen to his ministry; but “a snare,” as he relates, “was laid to entrap him,” and he became the lover of a young lady, the wooing of whom brought him only embarrassment and vexation. He gave her up, but that did not end his trouble; she married another, and the husband, on the plea of her religious character being attacked, claimed damages at law to the amount of £1,000. The jury returned a verdict in favour of the husband, and Wesley, assisted by the good Moravians, prepared to flee to England. Measures were taken to detain him; but as he himself records, he “saw clearly that the hour was come, and as soon as evening prayer was over, the tide serving, he shook the dust off his feet,” and left Georgia and America for ever.

As Wesley landed in England, he encountered Whitfield just about to embark for Georgia. The main purport of his visit was to establish there an orphan-house, similar to that at Halle. The design was carried out, the institution was founded in the neighbourhood of Savannah; but though it continued to exist during his lifetime it languished and finally was given up after his death. The permanent work which he carried out was somewhat different. In order to collect funds for this orphan-house, he commenced a tour through the colonies, producing wherever he went the most extraordinary effects. At this time a religious reaction was taking place in the New England states. The public mind, having rushed as it were into latitudinarianism from the asceticism and sternness of the rigid Puritan creed and life, now with that natural and necessary reaction which follows every extreme, was going back to the religious enthusiasm, of a former period. The preaching of Whitfield was a spark which fell upon this inflammable material. Crowds followed him everywhere; he preached, and the people, with cries and tears and violent bodily contortions, believed that the Divine grace was born in their souls. A “great revival” took place throughout New England; and controversy, which in Connecticut lasted for nine years, raged between the Old and New Lights.

“During these religious excitements,” says Hildreth, “the Baptists of New England received a new impulse; the sect began largely to increase, and ere long many of the New Light congregations joined the Baptist church. In the middle and southern colonies, the Scotch and Irish Presbyterians, who were being continually increased by additional numbers from the mother-country, kindled into zeal by the preaching of this modern apostle, became formidable rivals to the Episcopal church.” “From this first visit of Whitfield,” continues the same author, “may be dated that organised system of revivals and religious excitements which to this day are in progress of development, and which are not without results upon the moral and intellectual character of America.” Many distinguished schools and colleges owe their establishment to the religious fervor of that period.