as little affinity with the leading requirements of christian charity. Is the duellist "long suffering?" No; but ever most prompt to revenge an injury. Is he "kind?" No; but cruel and blood-thirsty in the extreme; for he would punish with death even an offensive gesture! Does he "vaunt himself—is he puffed up?" Yes, verily ; for it is the fear of having his pride, vanity, and self-conceit wounded, by being thought less of than his fellows, that makes him what he is. Does he "bear all things, and endure all things?" No; his law compels him not to bear or endure any injury or insult whatsoever.

No candid duellist can deny the truth of this statement; and how clearly does it show the wide difference between the precepts of Christ, and the conduct required by the law of honour!

How strange, that in this enlightened period, with all the benefit of the commands of our Saviour, and the inspired instructions of his holy apostles handed down to us unimpaired by time, men should form an idea of injuries, so vastly inferior to the almost sublime conceptions of the ancient heathens, who had no such revelation to guide them!

Bishop Davenant, in his "Exposition of St. Paul's Epistle to the Colossians," whilst writing on this subject, says: "It is a diabolical opinion that has

possessed the minds of almost all those who lay claim to gentility, that they cannot bear even a reproachful word without the loss of their honour and their reputation, but that they are under the necessity of seeking revenge in a duel, at the manifest peril of their own lives, and a plain attack upon the life of another." * * * *

"It is not a sign of a cowardly or ignoble mind, nor disgraceful or mean, in a Christian to receive injuries, but to inflict them **** this was even approved by the very heathens, especially the wiser amongst them. Socrates, as we find in Plato (in his Gorgias) draws the conclusion, that every injury is dishonourable to the inflicter of it."

"Aristotle was of the same opinion, and says, 'To inflict an injury is the effect of dishonesty, and on that account dishonourable and infamous; but to suffer one with equanimity is the effect of virtue.' Seneca, in that book where he professedly considers whether an injury can affect a wise man, writes:-'We ought to despise injuries; and what I may call the shadow of injuries, contumely, whether they fall deservedly or undeservedly upon us. If deservedly, it is not contumely, but judgment given; if undeservedly, it is for him who did the injury, and not for me, to be ashamed of it.""

Such were the opinions of heathen philosophers, who had nothing but the light of reason and experience to guide them.

Men of honour, however, of the present day think differently, and act upon the impression, that an insult or injury is so foul a stain to their reputation that they must risk their lives to efface it. Rather than bear the mere suspicion of error, they rush headlong into the actual commission of the most deadly crime; regardless alike of the suggestions of philosophy, the dictates of reason, and the commands of God!

H

98

CHAPTER VI.

By the fall of Adam the curse of sin was entailed upon all mankind.

God ordained a means to redeem them from this curse; and Christ became the willing sacrifice to accomplish it.

The scheme of man's salvation is revealed in God's holy word-the Bible; and repentance of sins past, with a desire to forsake them for the future, is there declared an essential preliminary towards receiving this blessed remission.

The law of honour is expressly calculated to defeat the gracious purposes of God, by cutting off the sinner in the commission of crime, and thus for ever debarring him from repentance.

This vital point, in which the law of honour is so decidedly opposed to the law of God, I have selected for examination, because it affords me an opportunity of showing the duellist still further the extent of his guilt, whether he lives or dies in the encounter; of cautioning him against deluding himself with the belief that he may sin wilfully,

and repent at leisure; of warning him of his imminent danger, even if he is not suddenly cut off by the pistol of his antagonist; and hence exciting him to use at least the same discretion in this that he would in less important matters, namely, to inquire beforehand what may be the consequences of his conduct, what the results he may reasonably expect, and what he may have to fear.

The everlasting condition of him who is killed upon the spot in a duel, and the dangerous state of the survivor in one of these guilty encounters, have often occurred to my mind with such overwhelming force, that I have scarcely dared to indulge the train of thought which they suggest.

Anxious as I am to place the matter strongly before those for whom I write, I approach the subject with awe and reverence; fearful, on the one hand, that I may not treat it with the clearness and force it requires; but, on the other hand, too seriously impressed with a sense of the important feature it presents in the crime of duelling, to leave it altogether unnoticed.

Addressing those who profess to be Christians, and consequently believe in the immortality of the soul, the resurrection of the body, and a future state of rewards and punishments, it is not necessary for my present object to do more than briefly