P. No, friend Charles, no right; no right at all: what right hast thou to
their lands?

K.C. Why, the right of discovery, to be sure; the right which the Pope and
all Christian kings have agreed to give one another.

P. The right of discovery? A strange kind of right, indeed. Now suppose,
friend Charles, that some canoe load of these Indians, crossing the sea,
and discovering this island of Great Britain, were to claim it as their
own, and set it up for sale over thy head, what wouldst thou think of it?

K.C. Why--why--why--I must confess, I should think it a piece of great
impudence in them.

P. Well, then, how canst thou, a Christian, and a Christian prince, too,
do that which thou so utterly condemnest in these people whom thou callest
savages? And suppose, again, that these Indians, on thy refusal to give up
thy island of Great Britain, were to make war on thee, and, having weapons
more destructive than thine, were to destroy many of thy subjects, and
drive the rest away--wouldst thou not think it horribly cruel?

K. C. I must say, friend William, that I should; how can I say otherwise?

P. Well, then, how can I, who call myself a Christian, do what I should
abhor even in the heathen? No. I will not do it. But I will buy the right
of the proper owners, even of the Indians themselves. By doing this, I
shall imitate God himself in his justice and mercy, and thereby insure his
blessing on my colony, if I should ever live to plant one in North
America.
--Mason L. Weems.