ver made such an
appeal; it is a malignant untruth, and sure I am, had the person who
coined it but known what had previously occurred, he never would have
uttered from his libel mint so very clumsy and self-proclaiming a
counterfeit. So far for the verisimilitude of this-charge. But I will
not rest either on improbability, or argument, or even denial. I have a
better and a conclusive answer. The trial terminated on Saturday
evening. On Sunday I was shown in a newspaper the passage imputed to me.
I took the paper to court on Monday, and, in the aldermen's room, before
all assembled, after reading the paragraph aloud, I thus addressed the
judges:--"I take the very first opportunity which offers, my lords, of
most respectfully inquiring of you whether I ever used any such
expression?"--"You certainly did not, Phillips," was the reply of the
late lamented Lord Chief Justice, "and I will be your vouchee whenever
you choose to call me,"--"And I," said Mr. Baron Parke, happily still
spared to us, "had a reason, which the Lord Chief Justice did not know,
for watching you narrowly, and he will remember my saying to him, when
you sat down, 'Brother Tindal, did you observe how carefully Phillips
abstained from giving any personal opinion in the case?' To this the
learned Chief Justice instantly assented." This is my answer to the
second charge.

Thirdly, and lastly, I am accused of having endeavored to cast upon the
female servants the guilt, which I knew was attributable to Courvoisier.
You will observe, of course, that the gravamen of this consists in my
having done so after the confession. The answer to this is obvious.
Courvoisier did not confess till Friday: the cross-examination took
place the day before, and so far, therefore, the accusation is disposed
of. But it may be said I did so in my address to the jury. Before
refuting this let me observe upon the disheartening circumstances under
which that address was delivered. At the close of the, to me, most
wretched day on which the confession was made, the prisoner sent me this
astounding message by his solicitor: "Tell Mr. Phillips, my counsel,
that I consider he has my life in his hands." My answer was, that as he
must be present himself, he would have an opportunity of seeing whether
I deserted him or not. I was to speak on the next morning. But what a
night preceded it! Fevered and horror-stricken, I could find no repose.
If I slumbered for a moment, the murderer's form