but endeavor'd rather to discourage his proceeding. One of Young's
Satires was then just published. I copy'd and sent him a great
part of it, which set in a strong light the folly of pursuing
the Muses with any hope of advancement by them. All was in vain;
sheets of the poem continued to come by every post. In the mean time,
Mrs. T----, having on his account lost her friends and business,
was often in distresses, and us'd to send for me, and borrow
what I could spare to help her out of them. I grew fond of
her company, and, being at that time under no religious restraint,
and presuming upon my importance to her, I attempted familiarities
(another erratum) which she repuls'd with a proper resentment,
and acquainted him with my behaviour. This made a breach between us;
and, when he returned again to London, he let me know he thought
I had cancell'd all the obligations he had been under to me.
So I found I was never to expect his repaying me what I lent to him,
or advanc'd for him. This, however, was not then of much consequence,
as he was totally unable; and in the loss of his friendship I found
myself relieved from a burthen. I now began to think of getting
a little money beforehand, and, expecting better work, I left Palmer's
to work at Watts's, near Lincoln's Inn Fields, a still greater
printing-house. Here I continued all the rest of my stay in London.

At my first admission into this printing-house I took to working
at press, imagining I felt a want of the bodily exercise I had been
us'd to in America, where presswork is mix'd with composing.
I drank only water; the other workmen, near fifty in number,
were great guzzlers of beer. On occasion, I carried up and down
stairs a large form of types in each hand, when others carried
but one in both hands. They wondered to see, from this and
several instances, that the Water-American, as they called me,