ained for Mr. Murray by his
legal adviser Mr. Sharon Turner.

The case came on, and on the Bench were seated the Duke of Wellington,
Lord Liverpool, and other leading statesmen, who had been subpoenaed as
witnesses for the defence. One of the Ridgways, publishers, had also
been subpoenaed with an accredited copy of Macirone's book; but it was
not necessary to produce him as a witness, as Mr. Ball, the counsel for
Macirone, _quoted_ passages from it, and thus made the entire book
available as evidence for the defendant, a proceeding of which Serjeant
Copley availed himself with telling effect. He substantiated the facts
stated in the _Quarterly_ article by passages quoted from Colonel
Macirone's own "Memoirs." Before he had concluded his speech, it became
obvious that the Jury had arrived at the conclusion to which he wished
to lead them; but he went on to drive the conclusion home by a splendid
peroration. [Footnote: Given in Sir Theodore Martin's "Life of Lord
Lyudhurst," p. 170.] The Jury intimated that they were all agreed; but
the Judge, as a matter of precaution, proceeded to charge them on the
evidence placed before them; and as soon as he had concluded, the Jury,
without retiring from the box, at once returned their verdict for the
defendant.

Although Mr. Murray had now a house in the country, he was almost
invariably to be found at Albemarle Street. We find, in one of his
letters to Blackwood, dated Wimbledon, May 22, 1819, the following: "I
have been unwell with bile and rheumatism, and have come to a little
place here, which I have bought lately, for a few days to recruit."

The following description of a reception at Mr. Murray's is taken from
the "Autobiography" of Mrs. Bray, the novelist. She relates that in the
autumn of 1819 she made a visit to Mr. Murray, with her first husband,
Charles Stothard, son of the well-known artist, for the purpose of
showing him the illustrations of his "Letters from Normandy and
Brittany."

"We did not know," she says, "that Mr. Murray held daily from about
three to five o'clock a literary levee at his house. In this way he
gathered round him many of the most eminent men of the time. On calling,
we sent up our cards, and finding he was engaged, proposed to retreat,
when Mr. Murray himself appeared and insisted on our coming up. I was
introduced to him by my husband, and welcomed by him with all the
cordiality of an old acquaintance. He said Sir Walter Scott was there,