] He was a man
of profound knowledge of the laws of his country, and as just an
observer of them in his own person. He considered justice as a cardinal
virtue, not as a trade for maintenance. Wherever he was judge, he never
forgot that he was also counsel. The criminal before him was always sure
he stood before his country, and, in a sort, a parent of it. The
prisoner knew, that though his spirit was broken with guilt, and
incapable of language to defend itself, all would be gathered from him
which could conduce to his safety; and that his judge would wrest no law
to destroy him, nor conceal any that could save him. In his time, there
were 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 Tearshift;[197]
one was a learned judge of sharpers, the other the quickest of all men
at finding out a wench. Trick-Track never spared a pickpocket, but was a
companion to cheats: Tearshift 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, Tearshift 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,"[198] in which there is not one good line, and yet a play which
was never seen without 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 impos