I Was born within sound of Bow-bells, and certain old lady relatives of mine used to consider I enjoyed an exceptional honour in having been christened by a clergyman who subsequently rose to be a distinguished bishop. This was Dr. Blomfield, rector of the rich living of St. Botolph's, Bishopsgate, the registers of which record the baptism of Edward Alleyn, the actor-manager and founder of Dulwich College, and the marriage of the great Marquis of Argyle of the Scottish Covenant.

The rector of St. Botolph's was noted for his scholarship; and as in those days (private patronage being lacking) the classics were a surer passport than theology to advancement in the Church, Dr. Blomfield, whilst still holding on to his wealthy city benefice, secured first of all promotion to the see of Chester, and eventually to that of London, when he lost no time in well-feathering his comfortable episcopal nest. It was of this aggrandising prelate that Hartley Coleridge once remarked, “There are only two individuals who know what his income is—himself and the devil.” Bishop Blomfield used to be twitted with having requited the Duke of Wellington, to whom he owed his appointment to the metropolitan see, and who counted upon the customary suit and service being rendered in return, by voting against Catholic Emancipation, when, regardless of the fierce agitation which this measure provoked, and “No Popery!” inscribed on every blank wall, his patron was convinced of the danger of its being any longer withheld, and in favour of Reform when the duke and the rest of the tory peers still offered this their strenuous opposition.