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 was 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 everything which happened among
the great, by means of his friend Cadwallader, with whom he still
maintained his former intimacy, though it was now chequered with
many occasional tiffs, 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 everything through a perspective of spleen, that always
reflected the worst side of human nature.
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