Collins saw that he could not deceive Benjamin; so he made a clean breast of the matter, and confessed to have formed intemperate habits soon after Benjamin first left Boston. He said that his appetite for brandy was strong, and that he had been intoxicated every day since his arrival in New York.
"I have lost all my money," he said, "and have nothing to pay my bills."
"Lost your money!" exclaimed Benjamin. "How did you lose that?"
"I lost it by gaming," he replied.
"What! a gambler, too?"
"Yes, if you will have it so," answered Collins, somewhat coolly; "and you must lend me money to pay my bills."
"If I had known this," continued Benjamin, "I would not have persuaded you to leave Boston. And here let me tell you, that it is impossible for you to find a situation unless you reform."
"Perhaps so," answered Collins; "but that is not the question now that interests me. I want to know whether you will lend me money to pay my bills here and go on my journey?"
"I must, for aught I see," replied Benjamin. "I should not leave you here without money and friends, of course, for that would be cruel. But you must try to reform."
Collins was a very clever young man, as we have seen, possessing marked mathematical talents, and he might have become one of the first scholars of his day, had he enjoyed the advantages of a course of study. Some of the clergymen of Boston showed him much attention on account of his abilities and love of books. But strong drink blasted his hopes.