All that Watt could do was to recommend that the evil day should be staved off as long as possible, or at all events until the large engines he was then erecting were at work, when he believed their performances would effect a complete change in the views of the adventurers. The only suggestion he could offer was to invite John Wilkinson, or some other moneyed man, to join them as partner and relieve them of their difficulties; for “rather than founder at sea,” said he, “we had better run ashore.”[165] Meanwhile, he urged Boulton to apply the pruning-knife and cut down expenses, assuring him that he himself was practising all the frugality in his power. But as Watt’s personal expenses at the time did not amount to 2_l._ a week, it is clear that any savings he could effect, however justifiable and laudable, were but a drop in the ocean compared with the liabilities to be met, and which must be provided without delay to avoid insolvency and ruin. [165] Watt to Boulton, 8th July, 1778. Boulton MSS. Fothergill, Boulton’s other partner, was even more desponding than Watt. When Boulton left Soho on his journeys to raise ways and means, Fothergill pursued him with dolorous letters, telling him of mails that had arrived without remittances, of bills that must be met, of wages that must be paid on Saturday night, and of the impending bankruptcy of the firm, which he again and again declared to be “inevitable.” “Better stop payment at once,” said he, “call our creditors together, and face the worst, than go on in this neck-and-neck race with ruin.” Boulton would hurry back to Soho, to quiet Fothergill, and keep the concern going; on which another series of letters would pour in upon him from Mr. Matthews, the London financial agent, pressing for remittances, and reporting the increasingly gloomy and desperate state of affairs. Boulton himself was, as usual, equal to the occasion. His courage and determination rose in proportion to the difficulties to be overcome. He was borne up by his invincible hope, by his unswerving purpose, and above all by his unshaken belief in the commercial value of the condensing engine. If they could only weather the storm until its working powers could be fully demonstrated, all would yet be well. In illustration of his hopefulness, we may mention that in the midst of his troubles a fire took place in the engine-room at Soho, which was happily extinguished, but not before it had destroyed the roof and done serious damage to the engine, which was brought to a standstill. Boulton had long been desirous of rebuilding the engine-house in a proper manner, but had been hindered by Watt, who was satisfied with alterations merely sufficient to accommodate the place to the changes made from time to time in the engine which he called “Beelzebub.”[166] On hearing of the damage done by the fire, Boulton, instead of lamenting over it, exclaimed, “_Now_ I shall be able at last to have the engine-house built as it should be.”