not to waver one inch in attachment thereto. It may be
doubted whether since its foundation any family--we except, of course,
those to whom grants were made from abbey-lands--during the whole
history of the Church has drawn such vast sums from it. His father, a
singularly fortunate man, set the ball rolling. Having gone up to
Christ Church, Oxford, as a sizar, or poor scholar, he happened about
the time of taking his degree to cross the quadrangle at the moment
when a nobleman of great position was asking the dean to recommend a
tutor for his son. Young Moore at that moment caught the very reverend
functionary's eye. There is the very man, thought he. He called him
up, presented him to the peer, and an engagement was made. In those
days the patronage of a powerful peer was a ready road to preferment.
Young Moore gave satisfaction to his noble patron, and was pushed up
the ecclesiastical tree until he reached its topmost branch, being
created in 1783 archbishop of Canterbury. In 1770 he formed a very
judicious marriage with Miss Eden. This lady was sister of Sir Robert
Eden, governor of Maryland in 1776 (who married the sister and co-heir
of the last Lord Baltimore), and of the first Lord Auckland, whom
George III. very justly stigmatized as "that eternal intriguer." To
the "eternal intriguer" the elevation of Moore to the archbishopric
was probably mainly due. Lord Auckland was for many years as intimate
a friend as Pitt ever had, and his daughter (afterward countess of
Buckinghamshire) is the great minister's only recorded love. For
twenty-three years Dr. Moore filled the archbishopric, and in those
days it was a far better thing pecuniarily than it is now. He made hay
whilst the sun shone, and then and for long after did his relatives
bask in the sun. Registrarships, canonries and livings fell upon them
in rich profusion, and the great prize of all, the registrarship of
the Prerogative Court of the archbishop of Canterbury, fell to the
luckiest of the lot.

Of course the registrar never came near his registry: his duties were
discharged by three deputies. Not one penny, moreover, beyond what was
absolutely necessary did he expend on the registry itself. Such a hole
as it was! Cribbed, cabined and confined were the clerks who ran the
reverend sinecurist's business in one of the most extraordinary
rabbit-warrens, to use the epithet Bethell, Lord (Chancellor)
Westbury, applied to it in the writer's hearing. In Great Kni