and he came immediately, and was as readily waited upon by the Doctor, who inquired if he would receive a communication from his friend, Gen. Mason.  M’Carter replied, that he “would receive no communication from Gen. Mason, except a challenge to fight.”  The challenge was therefore sent, and accepted, and the Doctor appointed to make the necessary arrangements for the duel.  He proposed the weapons to be pistols, and the distance, ten paces; to which M’Carter objected, because he said, “the General was a dead shot with the pistol, while he hardly knew how to use one.”  Then it was left to M’Carter to choose the mode of warfare.  He proposed muskets and ten paces distance.  This was agreed upon, and finally the morning arrived for the conflict, and people began to assemble in great numbers to witness this murderous scene.

The belligerent parties unflinchingly took their place, each with his loaded musket at his shoulder, and gazing in each other’s face, with feelings of the most bitter hatred, while their eyes flashed vengeance.

Oh! what a state of mind was this in which to meet inevitable death?  How could intelligent men, or gentlemen, if you please so to term them, look placidly on such a horrid scene?  Was there no heart of humanity to interfere and arrest the murderous designs of these madmen?  Alas, no!  The slaveholder’s “code of honor” must be acknowledged, though it outrage the laws of God and his country.

Dr. Bruno asks, “Gentlemen, are you ready?” and the duelists take their deadly aim at each other.  The signal to fire is given, and both weapons are discharged, and when the smoke had cleared away, what a spectacle was there presented to the duelist and spectator?  Gen. Mason, a husband, a father, a statesman, and a kind friend, lies bleeding, and gasping for breath.  He is no more!  Who will bear to his loving and unsuspecting wife, the sad intelligence of her sudden bereavement?  Who will convey his lifeless body to his late residence, and throw grief and consternation into the bosom of his family, and drape in sadness his whole household?  And yet this painful task must be performed.  The family of General Mason remained entirely ignorant of what was transpiring regarding the duel, until his mangled corpse was brought into his dwelling, from which he had so recently gone forth in all the vigor of life and manhood.  And here let us drop the curtain, nor intrude on that scene of domestic affliction around the deserted hearth-stone of the bereaved family of General Mason.

But where is Mr. M’Carter, the more fortunate party in the duel?  Hurrying away from the frightful scene, his hands dripping with the blood of his fellow-man, he skulks about, until an opportunity is given him to step on board a vessel bound to a foreign port; he leaves home, friends and country, in the vain hope of finding peace of mind, and ridding himself of that guilt and censure which must attach itself to a crime so heinous as that of taking the life of another.  I can but regard the inhuman practice of dueling as the legitimate fruit of Slavery.