 opinions of the players themselves. The variety of characters he had seen
and observed, and the high spheres of life in which he had so lately moved,
furnished him with a thousand entertaining anecdotes; and when he became a
little familiarized to his disappointments, so that his natural vivacity began
to revive, he flashed among them in such a number of bright sallies, as struck
them with admiration, and constituted himself a classic in wit: insomuch that
they began to retail his remnants, and even invited some particular friends to
come and hear him hold forth. One of the players, who had for many years
strutted about the taverns in the neighbourhood of Covent-garden, as the Grand
Turk of wit and humour, began to find his admirers melt away; and a certain
petulant physician, who had shone at almost all the Port-clubs in that end of
the town, was actually obliged to import his talents into the city, where he has
now happily taken root.
    Nor was this success to be wondered at, if we consider that, over and above
his natural genius and education, our adventurer still had the opportunity of
knowing every thing which happened among the great, by means of his friend
Cadwallader, with whom he still maintained his former intimacy, though it was
now checquered with many occasional tifts, owing to the sarcastic remonstrances
of the Misanthrope, who disapproved of those schemes which miscarried with
Peregrine, and now took unseasonable methods of valuing himself upon his own
foresight: nay, he was between whiles like a raven croaking presages of more ill
luck from the deceit of the minister, the dissimulation of his patron, the folly
of the projector for whom he was bound, the uncertainty of the seas, and the
villainy of those with whom he had entrusted his cash: for Crabtree saw and
considered every thing through a perspective of spleen, that always reflected
the worst side of human nature.
    For these reasons, our young gentleman began to be disgusted, at certain
intervals, with the character of this old man, whom he now thought a morose
cynic, not so much incensed against the follies and vices of mankind, as
delighted with the distress of his fellow-creatures. Thus he put the most
unfavourable construction on the principles of his friend, because he found
himself justly fallen under the lash of his animadversion. This self-accusation
very often dissolves the closest friendship: a man, conscious of his own
indiscretion, is implacably offended at the rectitude of his companion's
conduct, which he considers as an insult upon his failings, never to be
forgiven, even though he has
