giving them very great facilities, returned to London. Here he made
preparation for his own departure. It was grievous to him to leave his
children and his beloved wife. He hoped, however, in a short time to
come back and return with them to the land of his adoption. There was a
great stir in the Quaker world, for not only farmers and artisans, but
many persons of wealth and education were preparing to take part in the
enterprise.

Among the first ships which sailed after the departure of the _Amity_,
and those which have before been spoken of, was one, the _Concord_, on
board which William Mead and his family, with several friends, set sail
for the New World. William Penn saw his old friend off, his prayers
going with him, and hoping himself to follow in a short time.

In the autumn of the year 1683, a large vessel might have been seen
floating on the waters of the Thames. She was the _Welcome_.
Surrounding her were a number of boats which had brought off passengers,
while her decks were loaded with bales and packages of every possible
description, which the crew were engaged in stowing below. On the deck,
also, had been built up sheds for horses and pens for sheep, as also for
goats to afford milk, and pigs and poultry in large quantities for
provision. Already nearly a hundred persons were collected on board,
besides the crew. The signal was given, and the _Welcome_ got under
weigh to proceed down the Thames. Once more she brought up in the
Downs, off Deal. The 1st of September broke bright and clear. Her
flags were flying out gaily to the breeze, her white canvas hung to the
yards, when a large boat, followed by several smaller ones, came off
from the shore, and the young and energetic preacher of the gospel, the
governor of a vast province, the originator of the grandest scheme of
colonisation ever yet formed, ascended the side of the _Welcome_ which
was to bear him to the shores of the New World. Prayers ascended from
the deck of the proud ship as her anchor was once more lifted, and she
proceeded on her voyage to the west. All seemed fair and smiling, and
all that forethought and care could arrange had been provided for the
passengers. Few who saw William Penn at that moment would have
supposed, however, that he was a man of indomitable energy and courage.
Downcast and sad, he gazed on the shores of the land he was leaving,
which, notwithstanding his general philanthropy, contained those he
loved