* * * * * Pen and ink was then of no use to me. No good could be done by writing what no printer dared to print; and whatever I might have written for my private amusement as anecdotes of the times would have been continually exposed to be examined and tortured into any meaning the rage of party might fix upon it. And my heart was in distress at the fate of my friends, and my harp strung upon the weeping willows. [Sidenote: PAINE’S FORGETFULNESS] It was summer; we therefore spent most of our time in the garden, and passed it away in childish amusements, such as marbles, scotch hop, battledore, &c., so as to try and keep reflection from our minds. * * * * * In this retired manner we remained about six or seven weeks. Our landlord went every evening into the city to bring us the news of the day and the _Evening journal_. * * * * * He recovered, and being anxious to get out of France, a passport was obtained for him and his friend, chiefly, I believe, by the means of the huissier Rose, and secretly by the influence of some of the members of the Committee.[12] They received their passport late in the evening, but set off that same night in a post-chaise to Basle, which place they reached in safety. The very morning after their departure I heard a rapping at the gate, and looking out of the window I beheld entering the courtyard a guard with muskets and fixed bayonets. It was a guard to take up the fugitives, but they were already, happily, out of their reach.[13] The same guard returned a month later and took the Landlord Geit and myself to prison! I have often been in company with Mr. Paine since my arrival in Paris. I was surprised to find him quite indifferent about the public spirit in England or the influence of his doctrines upon his fellow countrymen. Indeed he disliked the mention of the subject, and when one day I casually remarked that I had altered my opinions upon my principles, he said: “You certainly have the right to do so, but you cannot alter the nature of things; the French have alarmed all honest men, but still truth is truth. My principles are possibly almost impracticable and might cause in their carrying out much misery and confusion, but they are _just_.” Here he spoke with the greatest severity of Mr. ----, who had obtained a seat in Parliament, and said: “parsons were always mischievous fellows.” I then hinted to him that his publication of the “Age of Reason” had lost him the good opinion of many Englishmen. He became uncommonly warm at this remark, and said he only published it “to inspire mankind with a higher idea of the Supreme Architect of the Universe, and to put an end to villainous imposture.”