reflect that they are always riding towards the gallows. You go out in a
coach to pay a visit to a friend three or four miles out of London. A
determined and agile-looking fellow springs upon you with his pistol in
his hand, and says, 'Your money or your life.' What would you do in such
a case?"

"If I had a pistol handy I would blow out his brains, and if not I would
give him my purse and call him a scoundrelly assassin."

"You would be wrong in both cases. If you killed him, you would be
hanged, for you have no right to take the law into your own hands; and if
you called him an assassin, he would tell you that he was no assassin as
he attacked you openly and gave you a free choice. Nay, he is generous,
for he might kill you and take your money as well. You might, indeed,
tell him he has an evil trade, and he would tell you that you were right,
and that he would try to avoid the gallows as long as possible. He would
then thank you and advise you never to drive out of London without being
accompanied by a mounted servant, as then no robber would dare to attack
you. We English always carry two purses on our journeys; a small one for
the robbers and a large one for ourselves."

What answer could I make to such arguments, based as they were on the
national manners? England is a rich sea, but strewn with reefs, and those
who voyage there would do well to take precautions. Sir Augustus Hervey's
discourse gave me great pleasure.

Going from one topic to another, as is always the way with a desultory
conversation, Sir Augustus deplored the fate of an unhappy Englishman who
had absconded to France with seventy thousand pounds, and had been
brought back to London, and was to be hanged.