e time, Mr Easy could not decide upon
what description his nonsense should consist of; at last he fixed upon
the rights of man, equality, and all that; how every person was born to
inherit his share of the earth, a right at present only admitted to a
certain length that is, about six feet, for we all inherit our graves,
and are allowed to take possession without dispute. But no one would
listen to Mr Easy's philosophy. The women would not acknowledge the
rights of men, whom they declared always to be in the wrong; and, as the
gentlemen who visited Mr Easy were all men of property, they could not
perceive the advantages of sharing with those who had none. However,
they allowed him to discuss the question, while they discussed his port
wine. The wine was good, if the arguments were not, and we must take
things as we find them in this world.

While Mr Easy talked philosophy, Mrs Easy played patience, and they
were a happy couple, riding side by side on their hobbies, and never
interfering with each other. Mr Easy knew his wife could not
understand him, and therefore did not expect her to listen very
attentively; and Mrs Easy did not care how much her husband talked,
provided she was not put out in her game. Mutual forbearance will
always ensure domestic felicity.

There was another cause for their agreeing so well. Upon any disputed
question Mr Easy invariably gave it up to Mrs Easy, telling her that
she should have her own way--and this pleased his wife; but, as Mr Easy
always took care, when it came to the point, to have his way, he was
pleased as well. It is true that Mrs Easy had long found out that she
did not have her own way long; but she was of an easy disposition, and
as, in nine cases out of ten, it was of very little consequence how
things were done, she was quite satisfied with his submission during the
heat of the argument. Mr Easy had admitted that she was right, and if
like all men he would do wrong, why what could a poor woman do? With a
lady of such a quiet disposition, it is easy to imagine that the
domestic felicity of Mr Easy was not easily disturbed. But, as people
have observed before, there is a mutability in human affairs. It was at
the finale of the eleventh year of their marriage that Mrs Easy at
first complained that she could not enjoy her breakfast. Mrs Easy had
her own suspicions, everybody else considered it past doubt, all except
Mr Easy; he little "thought, good easy man, that