THE DUEL.

"Blood-guiltiness!"—Psalmist.

ABOUT four miles from N

is an extensive

grove, well known as the scene of several fatal duels. As I passed it one morning on my way to my appointment in that town, I perceived a horse and vehicle among the trees, guarded by a solitary man, who appeared to be the driver. My suspicions were immediately aroused, but I rode on.

About a mile beyond I met another carriage, containing four persons, besides the driver, and hastening with all speed. My fears were confirmed, and I could scarcely doubt that another scene of blood was about to be enacted in those quiet solitudes. What was my duty in the case? I knew too well the tenacity of those fictitious and absurd sentiments of honour which prevailed in that section of the country, and which gave to the duel a character of exalted chivalry, to hope that my interference could be successful; yet, thought I, it is my duty to rebuke the sin, if I cannot prevent it, and in the name of my Lord I will do it. As quick as the thought, I wheeled about, and returned with the utmos speed to the grove.

The second carriage had arrived, and was fastened to a tree. I rode up to it, fastened my horse near it, and throwing the driver a piece of silver, requested him to guard him. While threading my way into the forest, my thoughts were intensely agitated to know how to present myself most successfully. The occasion admitted of no delay. I hastened on, and soon emerged into an oval space surrounded on all sides by the dense woods. At the opposite extremities stood the principals, their boots drawn over their pantaloons, their coats, vests, and hats off, and with handkerchiefs tied over their heads, and tightly belting their waists. A friend and a surgeon were conversing with each, while the seconds were about midway between them, arranging the dreadful conflict. One of the principals, the challenged, appeared but about twenty years old; his countenance was singularly expressive of sensibility, but also of cool determination. The other had a stout, ruffian-like bearing, a countenance easy, but sinister and heartless, and seemed impatient to wreak his vengeance on his antagonist.

I advanced immediately to the seconds, and declared at once my character and my object. 'Gentlemen," said I, excuse my intrusion; I

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am a minister of the gospel;. I know not the

heart and my

merits of this quarrel, but both my office require me to mediate a peace between the parties, if possible. Is it not possible?"

"Sir," replied one of them, "the utmost has been done to effect it, without success, and this is no place for further attempts."

"Under any circumstances, in any place, gentlemen," I replied, "it is appropriate to prevent murder, and such, in the sight of God, is the deed you are aiding. It must not be, gentlemen in the name of the law, which prohibits it-in the name of your friends, the principalsin the name of God, who looks upon you in this solitary place, I beseech you, stop it at once; at least, wash your own hands from the blood of these men; retire from the field, and refuse to assist in their mutual murder."

My emphatic remonstrance had a momentary effect; they seemed not indisposed to come to terms, if I could get the concurrence of the principals.

I passed immediately to the oldest of them. His countenance became more repulsive as I approached him; it was deeply pitted with the small-pox, and there was upon it the most Satanic, cold-blooded leer I ever witnessed on a human face. He had given the challenge. I besought him, by every consideration of hu

manity and morality, to recall it. I referred to the youth and inexperience of his antagonist, the conciliatory disposition of the seconds, the fearful consequences to his soul if he should fall, the withering remorse which must ever follow him if he should succeed.

He evidently thirsted for the blood of his opponent; but observing that his friend and the surgeon seconded my reasoning, he replied, with undissembled reluctance, that he gave the challenge for sufficient reasons; if they were removed, he might recall it, but never otherwise.

I passed to the other. I admonished him of the sin he was about to perpetrate, and referred to his probable domestic relations. The allusion touched his heart; he suddenly wiped a tear from his eye. "Yes, sir," said he, "there are hearts which would break if they knew I were here." I referred to my conversation with the seconds and the other principal, and remarked that nothing was now necessary to effect a reconciliation but his retraction of the language which had offended his adversary. "Sir," he replied, planting his foot firmly on the earth, and assuming a look which would have been sublime in a better cause"Sir, I have but declared the truth respecting that man,

and though I sink into the grave, I will not sanction his villainous character by a retraction." I reasoned with increased vehemence, but no appeal to his judgment or his heart could shake his desperate firmness. My heart bled over this young man, and I left him with tears, which I have no doubt he would have shared under other circumstances. What could I do further? I appealed again to the first principal, but he spurned me with a cool smile; I flew to the seconds, and requested them on any terms to adjust the matter and save the shedding of blood. But they had already measured the ground, and were ready to arrange the principals. "Gentlemen," said I," the blood of this dreadful deed be upon your souls; I have acquitted myself of it;" and I proceeded from the arena toward my horse.

What were my emotions as I turned away in despair! What! thought I; must it proceed? Is there no expedient to prevent it? In a few minutes one or both of these men may be in eternity, accursed for ever with “blood-guiltiness!" Can I not pluck them as brands from the burning? My spirit was in a tumult of anxiety. In a moment, as the principals were taking their places, I was again on the ground, standing on the line between them. "Sirs!"