pleases. The registrars must, by the terms of the act of
Parliament, be barristers, solicitors, or clerks who have served five
years in the Principal Registry.

Doctors' Commons twenty years ago was a unique corner of the world. It
lay so hid away that you might live for years in London, and be within
a stone's throw of it, and yet never have its existence brought to
your mind; and it had a life all its own. The ecclesiastical lawyers
were called doctors and proctors, instead of barristers and attorneys;
and although the former did not arrogate to themselves a higher rank
socially and professionally than that of barrister, a proctor
considered himself a great many cuts above an attorney, and indeed
was, for the most part, the equal of the best class of attorneys.
Proctors, it will be borne in mind, are sketched by Charles Dickens in
the opening pages of _David Copperfield_, for Dora's papa, Mr.
Spenlow, was in proctorial partnership with the reputably inexorable
Jawkins. When the Probate Act came into force it was a frightful blow
to the tribe of Spenlows. Not so much on account of the pecuniary
loss. In that respect the blow was considerably tempered to the shorn
lambs by a compensation all too liberal--for John Bull is unsurpassed
as a respecter of vested interests--and the proctors were compensated
on the basis of their incomes for the last five years, their returns
proving in some instances curiously at variance with the amounts on
which they had paid income-tax. But they regarded themselves as
terrible losers in prestige and position by this rude invasion of the
classic and aristocratic ground of the Doctores Commensales, and above
all by being leveled down to the rank of attorneys. The clerks in the
Prerogative Court--of which the registrars and head-clerks were all
proctors, who, taking the cue from Chief Registrar Moore, executed
their work by deputy, the deputies being clerks working long hours for
small salaries--had kotooed to them with the most servile
subserviency; but the Probate Office clerk was a government official,
who could not be removed, even by the judge of the court, without the
consent of the lord chancellor. What cared he, then, for Spenlow and
Jawkins? "I am astonished, Mr. Spenlow," said a young clerk of the new
_regime_, "that you should have made such a mistake!" Mr. Spenlow, in
turn, was too much astonished to utter a word. Speechless with
amazement and indignation, he left the "seat," as t