Travels Through France And Italy by Tobias Smollett (fastest ebook reader .txt) 📕

Without All Doubt, By That Time, The Fire Of His Vivacity, Which

Makes Him So Troublesome In His Youth, Will Be Considerably

Abated, And In Other Respects, He Must Be Improved By His

Experience. But There Is A Fundamental Error In The First

Principles Of His Education, Which Time Rather Confirms Than

Removes. Early Prejudices Are For The Most Part Converted Into

Habits Of Thinking; And Accordingly You Will Find The Old

Officers In The French Service More Bigotted Than Their Juniors,

To The Punctilios Of False Honour.

A Lad Of A Good Family No Sooner Enters Into The Service, Than He

Thinks It Incumbent Upon Him To Shew His Courage In A Rencontre.

His Natural Vivacity Prompts Him To Hazard In Company Every Thing

That Comes Uppermost, Without Any Respect To His Seniors Or

Betters; And Ten To One But He Says Something, Which He Finds It

Necessary To Maintain With His Sword. The Old Officer, Instead Of

Checking His Petulance, Either By Rebuke Or Silent

Disapprobation, Seems To Be Pleased With His Impertinence, And

Encourages Every Sally Of His Presumption. Should A Quarrel

Ensue, And The Parties Go Out, He Makes No Efforts To Compromise

The Dispute; But Sits With A Pleasing Expectation To Learn The

Issue Of The Rencontre. If The Young Man Is Wounded, He Kisses 

Him With Transport, Extols His Bravery, Puts Him Into The Hands

Of The Surgeon, And Visits Him With Great Tenderness Every Day,

Until He Is Cured. If He Is Killed On The Spot, He Shrugs Up His

Shoulders--Says, Quelle Dommage! C'etoit Un Amiable Enfant! Ah,

Patience! What Pity! He Was A Fine Boy! It Can't Be Helpt! And In

Three Hours The Defunct Is Forgotten. You Know, In France, Duels

Are Forbid, On Pain Of Death: But This Law Is Easily Evaded. The

Person Insulted Walks Out; The Antagonist Understands The Hint,

And Follows Him Into The Street, Where They Justle As If By

Accident, Draw Their Swords, And One Of Them Is Either Killed Or

Disabled, Before Any Effectual Means Can Be Used To Part Them.

Whatever May Be The Issue Of The Combat, The Magistrate Takes No

Cognizance Of It; At Least, It Is Interpreted Into An Accidental

Rencounter, And No Penalty Is Incurred On Either Side. Thus The

Purpose Of The Law Is Entirely Defeated, By A Most Ridiculous And

Cruel Connivance. The Meerest Trifles In Conversation, A Rash

Word, A Distant Hint, Even A Look Or Smile Of Contempt, Is

Sufficient To Produce One Of These Combats; But Injuries Of A

Deeper Dye, Such As Terms Of Reproach, The Lie Direct, A Blow, Or

Even The Menace Of A Blow, Must Be Discussed With More Formality.

In Any Of These Cases, The Parties Agree To Meet In The Dominions

Of Another Prince, Where They Can Murder Each Other, Without Fear

Of Punishment. An Officer Who Is Struck, Or Even Threatened With

A Blow Must Not Be Quiet, Until He Either Kills His Antagonist,

Or Loses His Own Life. A Friend Of Mine, (A Nissard) Who Was In

The Service Of France, Told Me, That Some Years Ago, One Of Their

Captains, In The Heat Of Passion, Struck His Lieutenant. They

Fought Immediately: The Lieutenant Was Wounded And Disarmed. As

It Was An Affront That Could Not Be Made Up, He No Sooner

Recovered Of His Wounds, Than He Called Out The Captain A Second

Time. In A Word, They Fought Five Times Before The Combat Proved

Decisive At Last, The Lieutenant Was Left Dead On The Spot. This

Was An Event Which Sufficiently Proved The Absurdity Of The

Punctilio That Gave Rise To It. The Poor Gentleman Who Was

Insulted, And Outraged By The Brutality Of The Aggressor, Found

Himself Under The Necessity Of Giving Him A Further Occasion To

Take Away His Life. Another Adventure Of The Same Kind Happened A

Few Years Ago In This Place. A French Officer Having Threatened

To Strike Another, A Formal Challenge Ensued; And It Being Agreed

That They Should Fight Until One Of Them Dropped, Each Provided

Himself With A Couple Of Pioneers To Dig His Grave On The Spot.

They Engaged Just Without One Of The Gates Of Nice, In Presence

Of A Great Number Of Spectators, And Fought With Surprising Fury,

Until The Ground Was Drenched With Their Blood. At Length One Of

Them Stumbled, And Fell; Upon Which The Other, Who Found Himself

Mortally Wounded, Advancing, And Dropping His Point, Said, "Je Te

Donne Ce Que Tu M'as Ote." "I'll Give Thee That Which Thou Hast

Taken From Me." So Saying, He Dropped Dead Upon The Field. The

Other, Who Had Been The Person Insulted, Was So Dangerously

Wounded That He Could Not Rise. Some Of The Spectators Carried

Him Forthwith To The Beach, And Putting Him Into A Boat, Conveyed

Him By Sea To Antibes. The Body Of His Antagonist Was Denied

Christian Burial, As He Died Without Absolution, And Every Body

Allowed That His Soul Went To Hell: But The Gentlemen Of The Army 

Declared, That He Died Like A Man Of Honour. Should A Man Be

Never So Well Inclined To Make Atonement In A Peaceable Manner,

For An Insult Given In The Heat Of Passion, Or In The Fury Of

Intoxication, It Cannot Be Received. Even An Involuntary Trespass

From Ignorance, Or Absence Of Mind, Must Be Cleansed With Blood.

A Certain Noble Lord, Of Our Country, When He Was Yet A Commoner,

On His Travels, Involved Himself In A Dilemma Of This Sort, At

The Court Of Lorrain. He Had Been Riding Out, And Strolling Along

A Public Walk, In A Brown Study, With His Horse-Whip In His Hand,

Perceived A Caterpillar Crawling On The Back Of A Marquis, Who

Chanced To Be Before Him. He Never Thought Of The Petit Maitre;

But Lifting Up His Whip, In Order To Kill The Insect, Laid It

Across His Shoulders With A Crack, That Alarmed All The Company

In The Walk. The Marquis's Sword Was Produced In A Moment, And

The Aggressor In Great Hazard Of His Life, As He Had No Weapon Of

Defence. He Was No Sooner Waked From His Reverie, Than He Begged

Pardon, And Offered To Make All Proper Concessions For What He

Had Done Through Mere Inadvertency. The Marquis Would Have

Admitted His Excuses, Had There Been Any Precedent Of Such An

Affront Being Washed Away Without Blood. A Conclave Of Honour Was

Immediately Assembled; And After Long Disputes, They Agreed, That

An Involuntary Offence, Especially From Such A Kind Of Man, D'un

Tel Homme, Might Be Attoned By Concessions. That You May Have

Some Idea Of The Small Beginning, From Which Many Gigantic

Quarrels Arise, I Shall Recount One That Lately Happened At

Lyons, As I Had It From The Mouth Of A Person Who Was An Ear And

Eye Witness Of The Transaction. Two Frenchmen, At A Public

Ordinary, Stunned The Rest Of The Company With Their Loquacity.

At Length, One Of Them, With A Supercilious Air, Asked The

Other's Name. "I Never Tell My Name, (Said He) But

In A Whisper." "You May Have Very Good Reasons For Keeping It

Secret," Replied The First. "I Will Tell You," (Resumed The

Other): With These Words He Rose; And Going Round To Him,

Pronounced, Loud Enough To Be Heard By The Whole Company, "Je

M'appelle Pierre Paysan; Et Vous Etes Un Impertinent." "My Name

Is Peter Peasant, And You Are An Impertinent Fellow." So Saying,

He Walked Out: The Interrogator Followed Him Into The Street,

Where They Justled, Drew Their Swords, And Engaged. He Who Asked

The Question Was Run Through The Body; But His Relations Were So

Powerful, That The Victor Was Obliged To Fly His Country, Was

Tried And Condemned In His Absence; His Goods Were Confiscated;

His Wife Broke Her Heart; His Children Were Reduced To Beggary;

And He Himself Is Now Starving In Exile. In England We Have Not

Yet Adopted All The Implacability Of The Punctilio. A Gentleman

May Be Insulted Even With A Blow, And Survive, After Having Once

Hazarded His Life Against The Aggressor. The Laws Of Honour In

Our Country Do Not Oblige Him Either To Slay The Person From Whom

He Received The Injury, Or Even To Fight To The Last Drop Of His

Own Blood. One Finds No Examples Of Duels Among The Romans, Who

Were Certainly As Brave And As Delicate In Their Notions Of

Honour As The French. Cornelius Nepos Tells Us, That A Famous

Athenian General, Having A Dispute With His Colleague, Who Was Of

Sparta, A Man Of A Fiery Disposition, This Last Lifted Up His

Cane To Strike Him. Had This Happened To A French Petit Maitre, 

Death Must Have Ensued: But Mark What Followed--The Athenian, Far

From Resenting The Outrage, In What Is Now Called A Gentlemanlike

Manner, Said, "Do, Strike If You Please; But Hear Me." He Never

Dreamed Of Cutting The Lacedemonian's Throat; But Bore With His

Passionate Temper, As The Infirmity Of A Friend Who Had A

Thousand Good Qualities To Overbalance That Defect.

I Need Not Expatiate Upon The Folly And The Mischief Which Are

Countenanced And Promoted By The Modern Practice Of Duelling. I

Need Not Give Examples Of Friends Who Have Murdered Each Other,

In Obedience To This Savage Custom, Even While Their Hearts Were

Melting With Mutual Tenderness; Nor Will I Particularize The

Instances Which I Myself Know, Of Whole Families Ruined, Of Women

And Children Made Widows And Orphans, Of Parents Deprived Of Only

Sons, And Of Valuable Lives Lost To The Community, By Duels,

Which Had Been Produced By One Unguarded Expression, Uttered

Without Intention Of Offence, In The Heat Of Dispute And

Altercation. I Shall Not Insist Upon The Hardship Of A Worthy

Man's Being Obliged To Devote Himself To Death, Because It Is His

Misfortune To Be Insulted By A Brute, A Bully, A Drunkard, Or A

Madman: Neither Will I Enlarge Upon This Side Of The Absurdity,

Which Indeed Amounts To A Contradiction In Terms; I Mean The

Dilemma To Which A Gentleman In The Army Is Reduced, When He

Receives An Affront: If He Does Not Challenge And Fight His

Antagonist, He Is Broke With Infamy By A Court-Martial; If He

Fights And Kills Him, He Is Tried By The Civil Power, Convicted

Of Murder, And, If The Royal Mercy Does Not Interpose, He Is

Infallibly Hanged: