and form your opinion from them, and not from his conversation. Paine knew less of the common concerns of life than I do, who know little; for when he has had occasion to remove from lodgings, he hardly knew how to procure or make an agreement for others, and our friend Johnson[64] latterly managed these concerns for him. When the popular cry was much against Paine, it was thought prudent by his friends, that he should remove from his apartments; and others were taken for him by Johnson, about four miles distant from those which he inhabited. They went there in a hackney-coach, for such a vehicle could contain them, with all the moveables which Paine possessed. On their arrival at the new abode, Paine discovered that half a bottle of brandy was left behind; now brandy being an important thing to Paine, he urged Johnson to drive back to fetch it. 'No, Mr. Paine,' said he, 'it would not be right to spend eight shillings in coach-hire, to regain one shilling's-worth of brandy.' Paine was an excellent mechanic; when Sharpe was about to engrave my picture of 'The Contest of Satan, Sin, and Death,' he employed a carpenter to construct a roller to raise or fall it at pleasure; in this, after several ineffectual attempts, he did not succeed to the expectations of Sharpe, who mentioned the circumstance in the hearing of Paine; he instantly offered his services, and set to work upon it, and soon accomplished all, and indeed more than the engraver had anticipated." In his notions and habits, Fuseli was completely an Englishman; and although, when he spoke, no one could take him for such, yet he disliked to be thought a foreigner; and he has sometimes said to me, "When I speak in any of the established languages of Europe, I am every where considered a foreigner, even when I discourse in German, our language at Zurich being a _Patois_; but I can assure you that this is nervous, and not without its beauties." No man was a greater stickler for civil and religious liberty than Fuseli, and no man had a deeper horror of the slave trade, or a greater dislike to impressing seamen. Paying a visit to his friend Roscoe, at Liverpool, in the year 1804, this gentleman pointed out to him all the improvements which had been made in the town since he was there last, which was within a few years. He observed, "I do not wonder that you look upon these with some degree of self-complacency; for they may be considered as the work of your hands, and as such I view them with interest; but methinks I every where smell the blood of slaves."[65]