able to assist him. He now let me know his intentions of remaining
in London, and that he never meant to return to Philadelphia. He had
brought no money with him, the whole he could muster having been
expended in paying his passage. I had fifteen pistoles; so he borrowed
occasionally of me to subsist, while he was looking out for business.
He first endeavored to get into the playhouse, believing himself
qualify'd for an actor; but Wilkes, to whom he apply'd, advis'd him
candidly not to think of that employment, as it was impossible he
should succeed in it. Then he propos'd to Roberts, a publisher in
Paternoster Row, to write for him a weekly paper like the Spectator, on
certain conditions, which Roberts did not approve. Then he endeavored
to get employment as a hackney writer, to copy for the stationers and
lawyers about the Temple, but could find no vacancy.

I immediately got into work at Palmer's, then a famous printing-house
in Bartholomew Close, and here I continu'd near a year. I was pretty
diligent, but spent with Ralph a good deal of my earnings in going to
plays and other places of amusement. We had together consumed all my
pistoles, and now just rubbed on from hand to mouth. He seem'd quite
to forget his wife and child, and I, by degrees, my engagements with
Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one letter, and that was to
let her know I was not likely soon to return. This was another of the
great errata of my life, which I should wish to correct if I were to
live it over again. In fact, by our expenses, I was constantly kept
unable to pay my passage.

At Palmer's I was employed in composing for the second edition of
Wollaston's "Religion of Nature." Some of his reasonings not appearing
to me well founded, I wrote a little metaphysical piece in which I made
remarks on them. It was entitled "A Dissertation on Liberty and
Necessity, Pleasure and Pain." I inscribed it to my friend Ralph; I
printed a small number. It occasion'd my being more consider'd by Mr.
Palmer as a young man of some ingenuity, tho' he seriously expostulated
with me upon the principles of my pamphlet, which to him appear'd
abominable. My printing this pamphlet was another erratum. While I
lodg'd in Little Britain, I made an acquaintance with one Wilcox, a
bookseller, whose shop was at the next door. He had an immense
collection of second-hand books. Circulating libraries were not then
in use; but we agreed that, on cert