, in which
the only son of a well-known and distinguished family had lost his
life for some silly dispute about a trifle.

"I hold the duel to be not merely a mistake, but a crime," said Ivan.
"It is flying in the face of God to take the law into our own hands.
The _Te Deum_ which the conqueror sings over his murderous act is a
disgrace; it cries to Heaven for vengeance. The appeal to weapons as
satisfaction is likewise an offence against society, for it hinders
the possibility of telling the truth. The man who tells us our faults
openly to our face is a benefactor, but by the present laws of society
we are bound to challenge him, and to kill him if we can; we have no
other course, so it must be false compliments or the duello."

Edmund continued the discussion. "I take a different view of the
matter," he said. "If duelling were not a law of society it would be
in a sense a denial of God's mercy, for if you look at it in this way
it cannot be denied that one man is weak, another man strong, and
that this is a decree of Providence. The result of this difference in
many instances would be that the weaker would be the slave of the
stronger, who could box his ears, insult him, and all the law would
give him would be, perhaps, a couple of pounds. This chasm between the
law of God and the law of man is filled by the pistol-ball, which puts
the strong and the weak on the same level. The pistol is not a judge,
for it often decides the cause unjustly. Nevertheless, this unwritten
law, and the respect, not to say fear, it infuses, has a salutary
effect, and makes it impossible for the bully to tyrannize over a man
of more education but less physical strength."

"But that it should be so is a crime of society," answered Ivan. "A
false sentiment of honor has dictated this law. The world has no right
to make such a rule; it should honor those equally, be they poor or
rich, well-born or humble, who keep the law of the land as it is
constituted. But what does society do? If a gentleman gets a box on
the ear from another, and does not immediately demand satisfaction for
the insult, and, _nolens volens_, make himself a target to be shot at
by perhaps a better marksman than himself, what happens? He is at once
dishonored; society ostracizes him. The world, if it pretend to any
justice in the matter, should reform this absurd principle, and punish
the man who has given the first offence. Then society, and not a
leaden ball, would be ju