duel, upon occasion, to prove
himself a man of brute courage, and kill or be killed for so low a cause.
A coward will fight a duel, because he is afraid to refuse, on account of
what bullies might say of him, and kill, or be killed, from so mean a
motive. A man maddened by wrongs, and raging with wrath, will fight a duel
to be revenged upon his adversary, to slay or to be slain, and is eager to
risk his own life, in the hope of taking his enemy's. But no man ever
fought a duel from any motive of pure honor. There is no honor in breaking
the laws of the Lord, or the laws of the land, but rather dishonor.

"You, Leonidas Force," said the squire, coming down from generalities to
point his moral in a personality, and very gravely addressing his young
relative, "you, in sending your challenge to Col. Anglesea to meet you in
the duel, were inspired by the spirit of wrath and revenge. In your fierce
anger you were not alone. Many shared that madness with you. Neither you
nor they could help feeling a frenzy of indignation against the
perpetrator of outrageous wrongs. But, though you could not help feeling
this frenzy of anger, you could help sinning. You should have remembered
the Word of God, 'Be ye angry, but sin not.' 'Vengeance is mine, saith the
Lord,' and, above all, the awful command, 'Thou shalt do no murder.' What!
shall a man break these laws, and call it honor? An infidel may, perhaps;
but even an infidel, who denies the Word of God, is amenable to the laws
of the land, which equally forbid the illegal taking of human life; and
even an infidel cannot fight a duel and truthfully call his crime 'an
affair of honor.'

"I have tried to show you the criminal insanity of dueling, and now I will
ask you to consider its consequences--as a case in point, the consequences
to you two young men, had you succeeded in your unlawful design to fight
this duel with Anglesea. You, Le, might have been killed. You would
probably have fallen dead at the first fire, for Anglesea is a sure shot,
and as vindictive as Satan, and he would have aimed at your heart. You
would have dropped dead on the field. Anglesea would have promptly made
his escape. But your friend here would have been arrested and held as an
accessory to your murder. He would have languished many months in jail,
then been brought to trial--the long and tedious trial of the present
age--perhaps through many trials, appealed from court to court; perhaps,
after months or yea