Mr. G----, a young English _militaire_ of fashion and spirit, not a great while since, had the fortune to fight a couple of duels in Paris, under circumstances rather curious. He was acquainted with a French gentleman, whom nature had endowed with more tongue than with discretion and good principles;--in fact, it came to the ears of Mr. G----, that the loquacious Gaul was a revolutionist in politics, a professed atheist in religion, and (how could it happen otherwise?) a man devoid of the most ordinary principles of honour, probity, and social decencies. He was in the habit of slandering and vituperating, in the most violent manner; and, in the well-thronged _cafes_ and _salons_ of the French capital, not only his _bon ami_ Mr. G----, but everything and everybody _English_, until our young officer, provoked by his insolence beyond all patience, taking the advice of a friend, challenged him. The Gaul, affecting to be highly irritated, at first protested that "he would never consent to _degrade_ himself by fighting any of the d--d English;" and, with horrid imprecations, parodied Caligula's memorable malice, by wishing that "all the cursed members of that infernal nation were but one body, which he might destroy at a shot!" However, that no imputation might rest on his courage, he consented to meet his adversary--for whom, by the way, he expressed the most thorough contempt--next morning, at the _Bois de Boulogne_. They met; and this miserable man received the reward of his perfidy and malice, by a ball through his heart!