to whom
the prevalence of this false impression is mainly due, observes--"At
length the decision was left to Lord Chief Justice Jeffries, afterwards
King James the Second's pliant Chancellor, who was of that society (the
Inner Temple), and he terminated the controversy in favor of Father
Smith; so that Harris's organ was taken away without loss of reputation,
having so long pleased and puzzled better judges than Jefferies."

Careful inquirers have ascertained that Harris's organ did not go to
Wolverhampton, but to Dublin and St. Andrew's Holborn, part of it being
sent to the one, and part to the other place. It is certain that Jeffrys
was not chosen to act as umpire in 1681, for the benchers did not make
their original proposal to the rival builders until February, 1682; and
years passed between that date and the termination of the squabble. When
Burney wrote:--"At length the decision was left to Lord Chief Justice
Jefferies, _afterwards King James II.'s pliant Chancellor_," the
musician was unaware that the squabble was still at white heat whilst
Jeffreys occupied the woolsack. On his return from the Western Campaign,
Jeffreys received the seals in September, 1685, whereas the dispute
about the organs did not terminate till the opening of 1688, or at
earliest till the close of 1687. There is no authentic record in the
archives of the Temples which supports, or in any way countenances, the
story that Jeffreys made choice of Smith's instrument; but it is highly
probable that the Lord Chancellor exerted his influence with the Inner
Temple (of which society he was a member), and induced the benchers, for
the sake of peace, to yield to the wishes of the Middle Temple. It is no
less probable that his fine musical taste enabled him to see that the
Middle Temple benchers were in the right, and gave especial weight to
his words when he spoke against Harris's instrument.

Though Jeffreys delighted in music, he does not seem to have held its
professors in high esteem. In the time of Charles II. musical artists of
the humbler grades liked to be styled 'musitioners;' and on a certain
occasion, when he was sitting as Recorder for the City of London, George
Jeffreys was greatly incensed by a witness who, in a pompous voice,
called himself a musitioner. With a sneer the Recorder interposed--"A
musitioner! I thought you were a fiddler!" "I am a musitioner," the
violinist answered, stoutly. "Oh, indeed," croaked Jeffreys. "That is
ver