“The proof of love is happiness.  These Christian Indians are happy.  They are at peace with the redman and the paleface.  They till the fields and work in the shops.  In days to come cabins and farms and fields of corn will be theirs.  They will bring up their children, not to hide in the forest to slay, but to walk hand in hand with the palefaces as equals.

“Oh, open your ears!  God speaks to you; peace awaits you!  Cast the bitterness from your hearts; it is the serpent-poison.  While you hate, God shuts His eyes.  You are great on the trail, in the council, in war; now be great in forgiveness.  Forgive the palefaces who have robbed you of your lands.  Then will come peace.  If you do not forgive, the war will go on; you will lose lands and homes, to find unmarked graves under the forest leaves.  Revenge is sweet; but it is not wise.  The price of revenge is blood and life.  Root it out of your hearts.  Love these Christian Indians; love the missionaries as they love you; love all living creatures.  Your days are but few; therefore, cease the the strife.  Let us say, ’Brothers, that is God’s word, His law; that is love; that is Christianity!’ If you will say from your heart, brother, you are a Christian.

“Brothers, the paleface teacher beseeches you.  Think not of this long, bloody war, of your dishonored dead, of your silenced wigwams, of your nameless graves, of your homeless children.  Think of the future.  One word from you will make peace over all this broad land.  The paleface must honor a Christian.  He can steal no Christian’s land.  All the palefaces, as many as the stars of the great white path, dare not invade the Village of Peace.  For God smiles here.  Listen to His words:  ’Come unto me all that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’”

Over the multitude brooded an impressive, solemn silence.  Then an aged Delaware chief rose, with a mien of profound thought, and slowly paced before the circle of chiefs.  Presently he stopped, turned to the awaiting Indians, and spoke: 

“Netawatwees is almost persuaded to be a Christian.”  He resumed his seat.

Another interval of penetrating quiet ensued.  At length a venerable-looking chieftain got up: 

“White Eyes hears the rumbling thunder in his ears.  The smoke blows from his eyes.  White Eyes is the oldest chief of the Lenni-Lenape.  His days are many; they are full; they draw near the evening of his life; he rejoices that wisdom is come before his sun is set.

“White Eyes believes the young White Father.  The ways of the Great Spirit are many as the fluttering leaves; they are strange and secret as the flight of a loon; White Eyes believes the redman’s happy hunting grounds need not be forgotten to love the palefaces’ God.  As a young brave pants and puzzles over his first trail, so the grown warrior feels in his understanding of his God.  He gropes blindly through dark ravines.

“White Eyes speaks few words to-day, for he is learning wisdom; he bids his people hearken to the voice of the White Father.  War is wrong; peace is best.  Love is the way to peace.  The paleface advances one step nearer his God.  He labors for his home; he keeps the peace; he asks but little; he frees his women.  That is well.  White Eyes has spoken.”