al Oglethorpe's, where we
found Dr. Goldsmith.

I started the question whether duelling was consistent with moral
duty. The brave old General fired at this, and said, with a lofty
air, 'Undoubtedly a man has a right to defend his honour.' GOLDSMITH.
(turning to me,) 'I ask you first, Sir, what would you do if you were
affronted?' I answered I should think it necessary to fight. 'Why then,
(replied Goldsmith,) that solves the question.' JOHNSON. 'No, Sir, it
does not solve the question. It does not follow that what a man would
do is therefore right.' I said, I wished to have it settled, whether
duelling was contrary to the laws of Christianity. Johnson immediately
entered on the subject, and treated it in a masterly manner; and so far
as I have been able to recollect, his thoughts were these: 'Sir, as men
become in a high degree refined, various causes of offence arise; which
are considered to be of such importance, that life must be staked to
atone for them, though in reality they are not so. A body that has
received a very fine polish may be easily hurt. Before men arrive at
this artificial refinement, if one tells his neighbour he lies, his
neighbour tells him he lies; if one gives his neighbour a blow, his
neighbour gives him a blow: but in a state of highly polished society,
an affront is held to be a serious injury. It must therefore be
resented, or rather a duel must be fought upon it; as men have agreed
to banish from their society one who puts up with an affront
without fighting a duel. Now, Sir, it is never unlawful to fight in
self-defence. He, then, who fights a duel, does not fight from passion
against his antagonist, but out of self-defence; to avert the stigma of
the world, and to prevent himself from being driven out of society. I
could wish there was not that superfluity of refinement; but while such
notions prevail, no doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel.'

The General told us, that when he was a very young man, I think only
fifteen, serving under Prince Eugene of Savoy, he was sitting in a
company at table with a Prince of Wirtemberg. The Prince took up a glass
of wine, and, by a fillip, made some of it fly in Oglethorpe's face.
Here was a nice dilemma. To have challenged him instantly, might have
fixed a quarrelsome character upon the young soldier: to have taken
no notice of it might have been considered as cowardice. Oglethorpe,
therefore, keeping his eye upon the Prince, and smiling all the time