prosperity, the lay abbots of Marney were not content. Not
that it was satiety that induced dissatisfaction. The
Egremonts could feed on. They wanted something more. Not to
be prime ministers or secretaries of state, for they were a
shrewd race who knew the length of their tether, and
notwithstanding the encouraging example of his grace of
Newcastle, they could not resist the persuasion that some
knowledge of the interests and resources of nations, some
power of expressing opinions with propriety, some degree of
respect for the public and for himself, were not altogether
indispensable qualifications, even under a Venetian
constitution, in an individual who aspired to a post so
eminent and responsible. Satisfied with the stars and mitres
and official seals, which were periodically apportioned to
them, the Marney family did not aspire to the somewhat
graceless office of being their distributor. What they aimed
at was promotion in their order; and promotion to the highest
class. They observed that more than one of the other great
"civil and religious liberty" families,--the families who in
one century plundered the church to gain the property of the
people, and in another century changed the dynasty to gain the
power of the crown,--had their brows circled with the
strawberry leaf. And why should not this distinction be the
high lot also of the descendants of the old gentleman usher of
one of King Henry's plundering vicar-generals? Why not? True
it is, that a grateful sovereign in our days has deemed such
distinction the only reward for half a hundred victories.
True it is, that Nelson, after conquering the Mediterranean,
died only a Viscount! But the house of Marney had risen to
high rank; counted themselves ancient nobility; and turned up