could save him. In his time there was a nest of pretenders to justice, who happened to be employed to put things in a method for being examined before him at his usual sessions: these animals were to Verus, as monkeys are to men, so like, that you can hardly disown them; but so base, that you are ashamed of their fraternity. It grew a phrase, Who would do justice on the justices? That certainly would Verus. I have seen an old trial where he sat judge on two of them; one was called Trick-track, the other Tear-shift: one was a learned judge of sharpers; the other the quickest of all men at finding out a wench. Trick-track never spared a pick-pocket, but was a companion to cheats: Tear-shift would make compliments to wenches of quality, but certainly commit poor ones. If a poor rogue wanted a lodging, Trick-track sent him to gaol for a thief: if a poor whore went only with one thin petticoat, Tear-shift would imprison her for being loose in her dress. These patriots infested the days of Verus, while they alternately committed and released each other's prisoners. But Verus regarded them as criminals, and always looked upon men as they stood in the eye of justice, without respecting whether they sat on the bench, or stood at the bar.

Will's Coffee-house, May 11.

YESTERDAY we were entertained with the Tragedy of The Earl of Essex; in which there is not one good line, and yet a play which was never seen with

4 "The Unhappy Favourite; or, The Earl of Essex," by John Banks, 4to. 1685; the prologue and epilogue by Dryden.

out drawing tears from some part of the audience: a remarkable instance that the soul is not to be moved by words, but things; for the incidents in this drama are laid together so happily, that the spectator makes the play for himself, by the force which the circumstance has upon his imagination. Thus, in spite of the most dry discourses, and expressions almost ridiculous with respect to propriety, it is impossible for one unprejudiced to see it, untouched with pity. I must confess, this effect is not wrought on such as examine why they are pleased; but it never fails to appear on those who are not too learned in nature, to be moved by her first suggestions. It is certain, the person and behaviour of Mr. Wilks has no small share in conducing to the popularity of the play; and when a handsome fellow is going to a more coarse exit than beheading, his shape and countenance make every tender one reprieve him with all her heart, without waiting until she hears his dying words.

This evening, The Alchymist' was played. This comedy is an example of Ben Jonson's extensive genius, and penetration into the passions and follies of mankind. The scene in the fourth act, where all the cheated people oppose the man that would open their eyes, has something in it so inimitably excellent, that it is certainly as great a mesterpiece as has ever appeared by any hand. The author's great address in shewing covetousness, the motive of the actions of the puritan, the epicure, the gamester, and the trader; and that all their endeavours, how differently soever they seem to tend, centre only in that one

5 First acted in 1610, and published in 4to. the same year. A statute for restraining the folly.of Alchymists (5 Hen. IV.) had been repealed a few years before.

point of gain, shews he had, to a great perfection, that discernment of spirit which constitutes a genius for comedy.

White's Chocolate-house, May 11.

It is not to be imagined, how far the violence of our desires will carry us towards our own deceit in the pursuit of what we wish for. A gentleman here this evening was giving me an account of a dumb fortuneteller, who outdoes Mr. Partridge, myself, or the 'unborn doctor", for predictions; all his visitants come to him full of expectations, and pay his own rate for the interpretations they put upon his shrugs and nods. There is a fine rich city-widow stole thither the other day (though it is not six weeks since her husband's departure from her company to rest), and with her trusty maid demanded of him, whether she should marry again, by holding up two fingers, like horns on her forehead. The wizard held up both his hands forked. The relic desired to know, whether he meant, by his holding up both hands, to represent that she had one husband before, and that she should have another? or that he intimated, she should have two more? The cunning man looked a little sour, upon which Betty jogged her mistress, who gave the other guinea; and he made her understand, she should positively have two more; but

6 Duncan Campbell, said to be deaf and dumb. See Spect. N° 474, and 560.

? This was Thomas Kirleus, who called himself sworn physician in ordinary to Charles II. and pretended to extraordinary endowments from the circumstance of his having been (as he pretended) introduced into the world by the Cesarean operation. See No 41, and 226.

shaked his head, and hinted that they should not live long with her. The widow sighed, and gave him the other half-guinea. After this prepossession, all that she had next to do was to make sallies to our end of the town, and find out who it is her fate to have. There are two who frequent this place, whom she takes to be men of vogue, and of whom her imagination has given her the choice. They have both the appearances of fine gentlemen, to such as do not know when they see persons of that turn; and, indeed, they are industrious enough to come at that character, to deserve the reputation of being such. But this town will not allow us to be the things we seem to aim at, and is too discerning to be fobbed off with pretences. One of these pretty fellows fails by his laborious exactness; the other, by his as much studied negligence. Frank Careless, as soon as his valet has helped on and adjusted his clothes, goes to his glass, sets his wig awry, tumbles his cravat; and, in short, undresses himself to go into company. Will Nice is so little satisfied with his dress, that all the time he is at a visit, he is still mending it, and is for that reason the more insufferable; for he who studies carelessness has, at least, his work the sooner done of the two. The widow is distracted whom to take for her first man; for Nice is every way so careful, that she fears his length of days; and Frank is so loose, that she has apprehensions for her own health with him. I am puzzled how to give a just idea of them; but, in a word, Careless is a coxcomb, and Nice a fop: both, you will say, very hopeful candidates for a gay young woman just set at liberty. But there is a whisper, her maid will give her to Tom Terror the gamester. This fellow has undone so many women, that he will certainly succeed if he is