“My Lord Cumber a word with you.”

“It is too late, Mr. Hartley,” replied that nobleman; “I am on my ground.”

“It is not an apology, my Lord,” replied the other smiling; “but really, as a man of honor, I cannot fight you as we stand at present:  we are not upon equal terms.”

“Speak to your second, sir,” said his opponent.

“You perceive he happens to be engaged just now,” rejoined Hartley; “but, in fact, the communication can as well be made to your lordship; I have just observed, my Lord, that the bullet of your pistol has dropped out, and I believe, if you will take the trouble to look upon the ground, you will see it at your feet; your second, I presume, has forgot to put in wadding.”

“Mr. Hartley,” replied Lord Cumber, “I always believed you to be a gentleman, and a man of bravery; I feel it now, and whatever the event of this meeting may be, I shall render you ample justice.  I thank you, sir, for that act of true courage and honor.”  At length the bullet was restored to its place, and the seconds drew aside to give the signal, which was letting fall a white handkerchief, when each was immediately to fire.

How short a span there is between life and eternity!  There they stood, both in high health and strength, full of the world, and the world’s spirit, and yet in how brief a space was one of them to appear before the judgment-seat of God!

At length the signal was given, the handkerchief fell, two shots were heard, one instantly following the other.  Hartley having fired, dropped his pistol hand by his side, whilst Lord Cumber raised his left hand to his breast, or rather was in the act of raising it, when he fell, gathered up his knees to his chin, and immediately stretching out his limbs at full length, was a corpse:  thus dying as he did, in the maintenance of an unjust and tyrannical principle.  And so passed away, by an untimely death, a man who was not destined to be a bad character.  His errors as a man—­a private nobleman—­we do not canvass any farther than as they affected his duties as a landlord.  His errors as a landlord were the errors of his time, and represented the principles of his class.  These were contempt for, and neglect of, the condition and comforts of his tenantry, of the very individuals from whose exertions and straggles he derived his support.  Strange, indeed, it is that men placed as his lordship was, should forget a principle, which a neglect of their duties may one day teach them to their cost—­that principle is the equal right of every man to the soil which God has created for all.  The laws of agrarian property are the laws of a class, and it is not too much to say, that if the rights of this class to legislate for their own interests were severely investigated, it might appear upon just and rational principles that the landlord is nothing more nor less than a pensioner upon popular credulity, and lives upon a fundamental error in society created by the class to which he belongs.  Think of this, gentlemen, and pay attention to your duties.