at Loewenberg. All his literary
acquirements and artistic tastes (and he really has a great deal of
both) go for nothing. The little beaux can speak nearly as many
languages as he can, and dance and dress better. The only thing they can
appreciate about him is his money, and the horses and dinners consequent
thereon. If little Robinson, there, with his _ne plus ultra_ tie and
varnished shoes, were to have the same fortune left him to-morrow, he
would be the better man of the two, because he can polk better, and
because, being neither a married man nor the agent of a respectable
house, he can gamble and do other things which Loewenberg's position does
not allow him to do."

This was a great confession for Benson to make against the country;
nevertheless, it was not perfectly satisfactory to Ashburner, who
thought that it did not explain all the phenomena of the case. It seemed
to him that there was at work a radical spirit of insubordination, and a
principle of overturning the formerly recognized order of domestic rule.
The little children ate and drank what they liked, went to bed when they
liked, and altogether were very independent of their natural rulers.
Benson's boy rode rough-shod over his nurse, bullied his mother, and
only deigned to mind his father occasionally. The wives ruled their
husbands despotically, and acted as if they had taken out a patent for
avenging the inferiority of their sex in other parts of the world.
Benson did not like dancing: he only danced at all because he thought it
his business to know a little of every thing, and because society
thought it the duty of every young man who was not lame to understand
the polka. But his wife kept him going at every ball for six hours,
during five of which he was bored to death. Ludlow, whose luxurious
living made violent exercise necessary for his health, and who,
therefore, delighted in fencing, boxing, and "constitutionals" that
would have tired a Cantab, was made to drive about Mrs. Ludlow all day
till he hated the sight of his own horses. As to Mrs. Harrison, she
treated her husband, when he made his appearance at Oldport (which was
not very often) as unceremoniously as one would an old trunk, or any
other piece of baggage which is never alluded to or taken notice of
except when wanted for immediate use.

Ashburner first met this lady a very few days after his arrival at
Oldport; indeed, she was so conspicuous a figure in the place that one
could no