The "we" included young Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. Christie, Mr. Choppin, probably Mr. Shapworth, an American, and M. Laborde, a scientific friend of Paine. These appear to have entered with Paine into co-operative housekeeping, though taking their chief meals at the restaurants. In the evenings they were joined by others,--the Brissots (before the arrest), Nicholas Bonneville, Joel Barlow, Captain Imlay, Mary Wollstonecraft, the Rolands. Mystical Madame Roland dreaded Paine's power, which she considered more adapted to pull down than to build, but has left a vivid impression of "the boldness of his conceptions, the originality of his style, the striking truths he throws out bravely among those whom they offend." The Mr. Shapworth alluded to is mentioned in a manuscript journal of Daniel Constable, sent me by his nephew, Clair J. Grèce, LL.D. This English gentleman visited Baton Rouge and Shapworth's plantation in 1822. "Mr. S.," he says, "has a daughter married to the Governor [Robinson], has travelled in Europe, married a French lady. He is a warm friend of Thomas Paine, as is his son-in-law. He lived with Paine many months at Paris. He [Paine] was then a sober, correct gentleman in appearance and manner." The English refugees, persecuted for selling the "Rights of Man," were, of course, always welcomed by Paine, and poor Rickman was his guest during this summer of 1793.* The following reminiscence of Paine, at a time when Gouverneur Morris was (for reasons that presently appear) reporting him to his American friends as generally drunk, was written by Rickman: * Rickman appears to have escaped from England in 1792, according to the following sonnet sent me by Dr. Grèce. It is headed: "Sonnet to my Little Girl, 1793. Written at Calais, on being pursued by cruel prosecution and persecution." "Farewell, sweet babe! and mayst thou never know, Like me, the pressure of exceeding woe. Some griefs (for they are human nature's right) On life's eventful stage will be thy lot; Some generous cares to clear thy mental sight, Some pains, in happiest hours, perhaps, begot; But mayst thou ne'er be, like thy father, driven From a loved partner, family, and home, Snatched from each heart-felt bliss, domestic heaven! From native shores, and all that's valued, roam. Oh, may bad governments, the source of human woe, Ere thou becom'st mature, receive their deadly blow; Then mankind's greatest curse thou ne'et wilt know."