Some of the friendships he made in America lasted till death. His landlord, Oldden (already mentioned), wanted him to take the house off his hands as a free gift. James Paul, another Quaker and a farmer, gave a name to Cobbett’s second son. Several men followed him to England, and had some share in his future fortunes. And, as time went on, the members of the British Embassy were not ashamed to honour him with their acquaintance. As early as 1798, Mr. Liston,[5] who was then envoy, informed Cobbett that the Government at home were fully sensible of the obligations which the country owed him--that they were prepared to advance his interests, or those of his relatives. To all such offers he persisted in a firm and honourable refusal--a conduct which naturally served to produce feelings of respect and admiration on their part. Lord Henry Stuart, another member of the Embassy, was likewise a great supporter of Cobbett, besides having certain sporting sympathies, which were revived in after-years. Business relations were also commencing with several London booksellers. Several good anecdotes might be reproduced here, to illustrate the manner of Cobbett’s life in Pennsylvania. He was always ready to recall, in his later years, the incidents of that period, when he would point a moral or adorn a tale. Here, for example, is a “shooting” story:-- “I was once acquainted with a _famous shooter_, whose name was William Ewing. He was a barrister of Philadelphia, but became far more renowned by his gun than by his law cases. We spent scores of days together a-shooting, and were extremely well matched--I having excellent dogs, and caring little about my reputation as a shot--his dogs being good for nothing, and he caring more about his reputation as a shot than as a lawyer. The fact which I am going to relate, respecting this gentleman, ought to be a warning to young men how they become enamoured of this species of vanity. We had gone about ten miles from our home to shoot where partridges were said to be very plentiful. We found them so. In the course of a November day, he had, just before dark, shot, and sent to the farm-house, or kept in his bag, _ninety-nine partridges_. He made some few double shots, and he might have a _miss_ or two, for he sometimes shot when out of my sight, on account of the woods. However, he said that he killed at every shot; and, as he had counted the birds, when we went to dinner at the farm-house and when he cleaned his gun, he, just before sunset, knew that he had killed ninety-nine partridges, every one upon the wing, and a great part of them in woods very thickly set with largish trees. It was a grand achievement; but, unfortunately, he wanted to make it _a hundred_. The sun was setting, and in that country darkness comes almost at once; it is more like the going out of a candle than that of a fire; and I wanted to be