and groans of women and children expiring among the ruins, and all for the pretended interest of a man who is a stranger to us!" [That "all the Romans should fight with all the Carthaginians" is not perhaps to be wondered at: their religion (if it deserved that name) taught them no better. But that the professors of a faith, the very essence of which is "love," should act so inconsistently with its plain and positive dictates, might well excite the surprise, and provoke the taunts. of the deistical remedy the evil, as it bade defiance to the laws, Olier undertook to form an Association of gentlemen of acknowledged prowess, and to bind them by an oath, neither to give nor acin the duels of others. The Marquis cept a challenge, nor to act as seconds of Fenelon, who had been a noted lead of this really noble fraternity, all duellist, was fixed upon to take the of whom it was required should have served as officers in the army. With a view to give all possible importance philosopher! When will Christendom wipe to the institution, they went in a body at Whitsuntide 1651, and in the presence of many distinguished persons delivered a document to M. Òlier in the chapel of St. Sulpice, containing an avowal of their abhorrence of duelling, as mad and vicious, and a ciples they had espoused. solemn promise to adhere to the prinAnn, sanction to these principles in her queen of Austria, gave her immediate off this reproach?] Some account of a Society formed for putting an end to the fashion of fighting Duels. ANTHONY, Marquis of Fenelon, uncle to the Archbishop of Cambray, was a famous man in his time. It was of him that the great Condé declared, he was equally admirable in conversation, war, and the cabinet. Some opinion may be formed of his characters and principles from the remark he made to Harlay, on the appointment of that prelate to the archbishopric of Paris:-"Great is the difference between the day of a preferment like this, which draws the compliments of a whole nation upon you, and the day of death, when you shall give an account to God of your administration." After signalizing himself in the military profession by the greatest bravery, and such talents as won the esteem of the first soldiers of the age, the Marquis of Fenelon thought fit to devote the last years of his life to the duties of religion. For this purpose he put himself under the care of M. Olier, the founder and superior of S. Sulpice, who was at that time occupied with a very laudable project. Cardinal Richelieu had long before attempted to repress the rage for fighting duels, so common in France, and punished offenders with the utmost rigour; but after the death of that minister, the practice was revived with shameful eagerness. To dominions; and Louis XIV. became so fully convinced of their excellence, that no height of rank, nor sentiments of favour, could palliate with him the crime of duelling. The example of these royal worthies, for such on this occasion they certainly were, must have had a great effect in lessening the number of duels wherever their influence went; and well would it have been had their conduct in this case been followed by the other sovereigns in Christendom. DURHAM. first is due to magistrates, and communicable to friends; the other to such as maliciously slander and impudently defend their assertion. Your love, not my merit, assure me you hold me your friend, which esteem I am much desirous to retain. Do me therefore the right to understand the truth of that; and in my behalf inform others, who either are, or may be infected with sinister rumours, much prejudicial to that fair opinion I desire to hold amongst all worthy persons. And on the faith of a gentleman, the relation I shall give is neither more nor less than the bare truth. The inclosed contains the first citation, sent me from Paris by a Scotch gentleman, who delivered it to me in Derbyshire at my father-inlaw's house. After it follows my then answer, returned him by the same bearer. The next is my accomplishment of my first promise, being a particular assignation of place and weapons, which I sent by a servant of mine, by post from Rotterdam, as soon as I landed there. The receipt of which, joined with an acknowledgment of my too fair carriage to the deceased Lord, is testified by the last, which periods the business until we met at Tergosa in Zealand, it being the place allotted for rendezvous; where he, accompanied with one Mr. Crawford, an English gentleman, for his second, a surgeon, and a man, arrived with all the speed he could. And there having rendered himself, I addressed my second, Sir John Heidon, to let him understand, that now all following should be done by consent, as concerning the terms whereon we should fight, as also the place. To our Seconds we gave power for their appointments, who agreed we should go to Antwerp, from thence to Bergen-op-Zoom, where in the mid-way but a village divides the States territories from the Archduke's. And there was the destined stage, to the end that having ended, he that could, might presently exempt himself from the justice of VOL. III. the country, by retiring into the dominion not offended. It was farther concluded, that in case any should fall or slip, that then the combat should cease, and he whose ill fortune had so subjected him, was to acknowledge his life to have been in the other's hands. But in case one party's sword should break, because that could only chance by hazard, it was agreed that the other should take no advantage, but either then be made friends, or else upon even terms go to it again. Thus these conclusions being each of them related to his party, was by us both approved, and assented to. Accordingly we embarked for Antwerp. And by reason my lord (as I conceive, because he could not handsomely without danger of discovery) had not paired the sword I sent him to Paris, bringing one of the same length, but twice as broad, my Second excepted against it, and advised me to match my own, and send him the choice, which I obeyed; it being, you know, the challenger's privilege to elect his weapon. At the delivery of the sword, which was performed by Sir John Heidon, it pleased the Lord Bruce to choose my own, and then, past expectation, he told him that he found himself so far behind-hand, as a little of my blood would not serve his turn; and therefore he was now resolved to have me alone, because he knew (for I will use his own words) that so worthy a gentleman, and my friend, could not endure to stand by and see him do that which he must, to satisfy himself and his honour.' Hereupon Sir John Heidon replied, that such intentions were bloody and butcherly, far unfitting so noble a personage, who should desire to bleed for reputation, not for life; withal adding, he thought himself injured, being come thus far, now to be prohibited from executing those honorable offices he came for. The Lord for answer, only reiterated his former resolutions; whereupon, Sir John leaving him the sword he had elected, delivered me 21 the other, with his determinations. The which, not for matter, but manner, so moved me, as though to my remembrance I had not of a long while eaten more liberally than at dinner, and therefore unfit for such an action (seeing the surgeons hold a wound upon a full stomach much more dangerous than otherwise) I requested my Second to certify him, I would presently decide the difference, and therefore he should presently meet me on horseback, only waited on by our surgeons, they being unarmed. Together we rode, but one before the other some twelve score, about some two English miles; and then, passion having so weak an enemy to assail as my direction,* easily became victor, and using his power, made me obedient to his commands. I being verily mad with anger the lord Bruce should thirst after my life with a kind of assuredness, seeing I had come so far and needlessly, to give him leave to regain his lost reputation. I bade him alight, which with all willingness he quickly granted, and there, in a meadow ancle deep in water at the least, bidding farewell to our doublets, in our shirts began to charge each other, having afore commanded our surgeons to withdraw themselves a pretty distance from us, conjuring them besides, as they respected our favours or their own safeties, not to stir, but suffer us to execute our pleasure, we being fully resolved (God forgive us!) to dispatch each other by what means we could. I made a thrust at my enemy, but was short; and in drawing back my arm I received a great wound thereon, which I interpreted as a reward for my short shooting; but in revenge I pressed in to him, though I then missed him also, and then received a wound in my right pap, which passed level through my body, and almost to my back. And there we wrestled for the two greatest and dearest prizes we could ever expect trial for, honour and life. * Discretion, In which struggling my hand, having but an ordinary glove on, lost one of her servants though the meanest, which hung by a skin, and to sight yet remaineth as before, and I am put in hope one day to recover the use of it again: but at last, breathless, yet keeping our holds, there passed on both sides propositions of quitting each other's sword. But when amity was dead, confidence could not live; and who should quit first was the question, which on neither part either would perform, and restriving again afresh, with a kick and a wrench together, I freed my long captivated weapon, which incontinently levying+ at his throat, being master still of his, I demanded if he would ask his life, or yield his sword, both which, though in that imminent danger, he bravely denied to do. Myself being wounded, and feeling loss of blood, having three conduits running on me, which began to make me faint, and he courageously persisting not to accord to either of my propositions, through remembrance of his former bloody desire, and feeling of my present estate, ! struck at his heart, but with his avoiding missed my aim, yet passed through the body, and drawing out my sword re-passed it again through another place, when he cried "Oh, I am slain!" seconding his speech with all the force he had to cast me; but being too weak, after I had defended his assault, I easily became master of him, laying him on his back; when being upon him I re-demanded if he would request his life, but it seemed he prized it not at so dear a rate to be beholden for it, bravely replying "he scorned it;" which answer of his was so noble and worthy, protest I could not find in my heart to offer him any more violence, only keeping him down, until at length bis surgeon afar off cried out "he would immediately die if his wounds were not stopped." Whereupon I asked if he desired his surgeon should come, + Levelling. as I which he accepted of; and so being drawn away I never offered to take his sword, accounting it inhuman to rob a dead man, for so I held him to be. This thus ended, I retired to my surgeon, in whose arms after I had remained a while for want of blood I lost my sight, and withal as I then thought my life also: but strong water and his diligence quickly recovered me, when I escaped a great danger; for my Lord's surgeon, when nobody dreamt of it, came full at me with his lord's sword, and had not mine with my sword interposed himself, I had been slain by those base hands, although my Lord Bruce, weltering in his blood, and past all expectation of life, conformable to all his former carriage, which was undoubtedly noble, cried out, "Rascal! hold thy hand." So may I prosper as I have dealt sincerely with you in this relation, which I pray you, with the inclosed letter, deliver to my lord chamberlain. And so, &c. Yours, Louvain the 8th of Sept. 1633. EDWARD SACKVILLE. To the Editor of the Herald of Peace. SIR,-Deeming the enclosed paper from the Adventurer suited to the objects of the Herald of Peace, I have copied it out; and should you deem it worthy a place in that valuable publication, it will much gratify, Sir, Your obedient Servant, London, June 22d, 1821. THE ADVENTURER, NO. XLVII. MAN, though as a rational being, he has thought fit to style himself the lord of the creation, is yet frequently the voluntary slave of prejudice and custom; the most general opinions are often absurd, and the prevailing principles of action ridiculous. It may however be allowed, that if in these instances reason always appeared to be overborne by the im portunity of appetite; if the future was sacrificed to the present, and hope renounced only for possession, there would not be much cause for wonder: but that man should draw absurd conclusions, contrary to his immediate interest; that he should, even at the risk of life, gratify those vices in some, which in others he punishes with a gibbet or a wheel, is in the highest degree astonishing, and is such an instance of the weakness of our reason, and the fallibility of our judgment, as should incline us to accept with gratitude of that guidance which is from above. But if it is strange that one man has been immortalized as a god, and another put to death as a felon, for actions which have the same motive and the same tendency, merely because they were circumstantially different, it is yet more strange that this difference has always been such as increases the absurdity; and that the action which exposes a man to infamy and death, wants only greater aggravation of guilt, and more extensive and pernicious effects, to render him the object of veneration and applause. Bagshot, the robber, having lost the booty of a week among his associates at hazard, loaded his pistols, mounted his horse, and took the Kentish road, with a resolution not to return till he had recruited his purse. Within a few miles of London, just as he heard a village clock strike nine, he met two gentlemen in a post-chaise, which he stopped. One of the gentlemen immediately presented a pistol, and at the same time a servant rode up armed with a blunderbuss. The robber, perceiving that he should be vigorously opposed, turned off from the chaise, and discharged a pistol at the servant, who instantly fell dead from his horse. The gentlemen had now leaped from the chaise, but the foremost receiving a blow on his head with the stock of the pistol that had been just fired, reeled back a few paces. The other, having fired at the murderer without success, attempted to dismount him, and succeeded; but while they were grappling with each other, the villain drew a knife and stabbed his antagonist to the heart. He then, with the calm intrepidity of a hero who is familiar with danger, proceeded to rifle the pockets of the dead; and the survivor, having recovered from the blow, and being imperiously commanded to deliver, was now obliged to comply. When the victor had thus obtained the pecuniary reward of his prowess, he determined to lose no part of the glory, which, as conqueror, was now in his power: turning therefore to the unhappy gentleman whom he had plundered, he condescended to insult him with the applause of conscious superiority: he told him he had never robbed any persons who behaved better; and as a tribute due to the merits of the dead, and as a token of his esteem for the living, he generously threw him back a shilling, to prevent his being stopped at the turnpike. He now remounted his horse, and set off towards London; but at the turnpike, a coach that was paying the toll obstructed his way, and by the light of the flambeau that was behind it, he discovered that his coat was much stained with blood. This discovery threw him into such confusion, that he attempted to rush by: he was however prevented; and his appearance giving great reason to suspect his motive, he was seized and detained. In the coach were two ladies, and a little boy about five years old. The ladies were greatly alarmed when they heard that a person was taken who was supposed to have just committed a robbery and a murder. They asked many questions with great eagerness; but their enquiries were little regarded till a gentleman rode up, who seeing their distress offered his assistance. The elder of the two ladies acquainted him that her husband, Sir Harry Freeman, was upon the road in his return from Gravesend, where he had been to receive an only son upon his arrival from India, after an absence of near six that years; herself and her daughter-in-law were come out to meet them, but were terrified with the apprehension that they might have been stopped by the man who had just been taken into custody. Their attention was now suddenly called to the other side of the coach by the child, who cried out in a transport of joy, "There is my grand-papa!" This was indeed the survivor of the three who had been attacked by Bagshot. He was mounted on his servant's horse, and rode slowly by the side of the chaise in which he had just placed the body of his son, whose countenance was disfigured with blood, and whose features were still impressed with the agonies of death. Who can express the grief, horror, and despair, with which a father exhibited this spectacle to a mother and a wife, who expected a son and a husband, with all the tenderness and ardour of conjugal and parental affection! who had long regretted his absence, who had anticipated the joy of his return, and were impatient to put into his arms a pledge of his love which he had never seen! I will not attempt to describe that distress, which tears would not have suffered me to behold: let it suffice, that such was its effect upon those who were present, that the murderer was not without difficulty conducted alive to the prison; and I am confident, that few who read this story, would have heard with regret that he was torn to pieces by the way. But before they congratulate themselves upon a sense which always distinguishes right and wrong by spontaneous approbation and censures, let them tell me, with what sentiments they read of a youthful monarch, who, at the head of an army in which every man became an hero by his example, passed over mountains and deserts, in search of new territories to invade, |