Most people lament, many abuse, the custom as barbarous; but barbarous it is not, or it would not be necessary in a state of high civilisation.  It is true, that by the practice we offend laws human and divine; but, at the same time, it must be acknowledged, that neither law nor religion can keep society in such good order, or so restrain crime.  The man who would defy the penalty of the law, and the commandments of his God against seduction will, however, pause in his career, when he finds that there are brothers to avenge an injured sister.  And why so?—­because in this world we live as if we were in a tavern, careless of what the bill is which we run up, but dreading the day of reckoning, which the pistol of our adversary may bring at once.  Thus duelling may be considered as a necessary evil, arising out of our wickedness; a crime in itself rare in occurrence, but which prevents others of equal magnitude from occurring every day; and, until the world is reformed, nothing can prevent it.  Men will ever be governed by the estimation of the world:  and until the whole world decide against duelling—­until it has become the usage to offer the other cheek upon the first having been smitten—­then, and not till then, will the practice be discontinued.  When a man refuses to fight a duel, he is stigmatised as a coward, his company is shunned, and unless he is a wretch without feeling, his life becomes a burden.  Men have refused from purely conscientious motives, and have subsequently found themselves so miserable, from the neglect and contumely of the world, that they have backslided, and have fought to recover their place in society.  There have been some few—­very few—­who, having refused from conscientious motives, have adhered to these resolutions, because they feared God and not man.  There was more courage in their refusal than if they had run the gauntlet of a hundred duels; a moral courage which is most rare,—­preferring the contempt of man to the wrath of God.  It is, however, the most trying situation on this side of the grave.  To refuse to fight a duel, is in fact to obey the stern injunction, “Leave all, and follow me.”

For my part, I never have and never will fight a duel, if I can help it.  I have a double motive for my refusal; in the first place, I am afraid to offend the Deity; and in the next, I am afraid of being shot.  I have, therefore, made up my mind never to meet a man except upon what I consider fair terms; for when a man stakes his life, the gambling becomes rather serious, and an equal value should be laid down by each party.  If, then, a man is not so big—­not of equal consequence in the consideration of his fellow-mites—­not married, with five small children, as I am—­not having so much to lose,—­why, it is clear that I risk more than he does; the stake is not equal, and I therefore shall not meet him.  If, on the contrary, he presents a broader target—­if he is my superior in rank, more patriarchal at home, or has so many hundreds per annum more—­why, then the disadvantages will be on his side; and I trust I am too much of a gentleman, even if he offers to waive all these considerations, to permit him to fight.  It would be swindling the man out of his life.