The rash duellist disected: with the inconveniencies that attend him. By way of essay

An Essay of Duelling.

WHile we conceive Duelling as an Action: under that Conception, we must have recourse to Circumstances for its Discreminating Epethets of good or bad: But these are so various both in Number and Kind, that it will be very difficult to reduce the Thesis to any certainty, without mustering up a Volume of Instances out of God's Revenge against Murder, or some Book like it; and so by the several descants upon every Individual Duel, to deduce Arguments to prove one general Assertion: (Viz.) That all Duels are unlawful.

But since I intend a Discourse more Concise, and (I hope) more to the Purpose, than that comes to, I designedly omit the Enumeration of that long train of Circumstances which wait on our Actions: instancing only in the most general motive that enduceth men to Duelling; which I look upon as the proper Basis on which the stress of my present Discourse ought to rely. This Motive I have generally observed to be the preservation of Honour, and look upon it as the end (or more properly the beginning) of all Duels; and is indeed a very fair mark to aim at: so that nothing can redound to the disparagement of the Archer, but his proving so Purblind, as not rightly to distinguish between the reality and the resemblance; or so Ʋnskilful, as never to come neer the White.

And I am fearful that I shall too easily make it apper that many Gentlemen are very short-sighted in this Particular, and that either through the false Vizards they have put upon Honour, or the unjust estimates they make of it, they oftentimes Fight for the shadow instead of the substance, and (through that mistake) destroy what they so Zealously endeavour to maintain. A true Diamond is indeed a Jewel of Price, but it is Rivalled by Glass and Pebbles; Iron may wear a superficies as curiously Engraved as the purest Steel, but it is not so familiar and kind to the Loadstone: Brass may bear the same impress with Gold, but it cannot put a cheat upon the Touchstone: and as for Honour, I Fancy it is as distinguishable by its proper and genuine marks, as any of these.

The Touchstone of Honour I take to be Morality; nothing certainly can be so true a Gage, or so just a Standard of it, as the Ethicks: So that I shall adventure to make this general assertion: (in spight of Hectors) Viz. That it is impossible for a Man to be truly Honourable, who is not truly Vertuous: And though Men have either carelesly, or industriously suffered that one great embelishment, Magnanimity; as it were to Monopolize all Vertue, making a convertible Proposition of it. That no man can be Honourable, but he that is Stout: and again, That no Man can be Stout, but he must be Honourable: Yet I believe the rest of the Moral Vertues would take it very unkindly, so to be shouldred out of doors, but that they see Magnanimity so grosely abused, as it is even by those who pretend to be the greatest admirers of it. How this Errour came to escape Conviction, I know not, but certainly 'tis the greatest imaginable; and carries Pawn (I am confident) with none but such as really are, or however would be thought Ranck Hectors: And even such quickly find themselves hugely disappointed in their ill-grounded hopes: For whatever they purpose to themselves in the midst of their huffing, yet while they are endevouring to impose the name of Bubble upon others, they become the greatest ones themselves, owing their Greatness to a vapour, till they break into Nothing. And after they have convinced the whole World by their Duels and Murders, what undaunted Spirits they have, for which they expect Adoration from all that pass by them, they are forced to content themselves with the applauses of two or three of their Brethren, and the submissive respect of some few of their Creatures: And I make my appeal to any sober and rational Man, whether a person notorious for Lying, a Prodigious Sot, an abominable Lecher, or the like, gain the least Honour or Esteem with any, but such as are like himself, though he be the stoutest man living. For my part, I would no more espouse such an acquaintance, because of his Courage, than I would chuse to Marry a beastly common Strumpet, because she had a sprightly eye, or some other commendable feature: and do not find any Catachresis in the Analogy, more, than that the latter is a companion the least mischevious and dangerous of the two.

Thus it is my opinion, that a man who is every way morally vicious, excepting in his Courage, ought to live with less Honour, than he that is in all other respects morrally good, and well accomplished, though a Coward, for Courage is the gift of Nature, and if a man wants it, 'tis not his fault but his misfortune: Nature is unkind, and he is unhappy; he is good to the uttermost of his Power, by suppressing Nature when 'tis rebellious, but he cannot encourage it when 'tis faint-hearted: he finds it deficient in his heart, and therefore supplies that chasm by a more than common liberality of his hands, affability of his Tougue, &c. And since he wants one branch in the Tree of Honour, he so orders and disposes of the rest, that they flourish to the making up of that Breach.

Thus while the Gentleman I mentioned even now, makes necessity of a Vertue, by pressing his courage to vindicate the Quarrels of his many other vices, this makes a vertue of necessity, by marshalling all his other excellencies to the concealinent of this deformity. While he has a mind so beclouded, as to abate much of the lusture of his Fortitude; This has a Soul so serene, as even to lend Rays to his Pusillanimity. While he Arrests his Magnanimity to pay the debts of his drunkenness, this by his temperance, plays the good Husband, and contracts none.

Not that I intend this for a Panegyrique of Cowardice, but only by this Antithesis to evince how grosely they mistake, who think all Honour placed in a readiness to go into the Field upon every the least occasion; and him to be the only Gentleman, that will do this, though in all other matters he be vitiated, even to a Debauch. But taking what I have said for granted, the consequence will be this: That Courage alone cannot maintain, much less purchase Honour, unless there be a consent, and a combination of the other vertues to assist it. Arms look very naked without Suporters: And let the Soloecism appear how great soever, 'tis a Truth that Affability and Meekness is the best varnish to Courage, which (like vineger) will fret and feed upon it self, unless it be allayed with Water, or some more innocent Liquor. But the mischief of it is, that Men are now generally become their own Heralds, they will not remember that Honor est in honorante; nor be beholding to the World for that Worship, which they conceive to be a just Debt to their Merit. They grow furious, and are like Nebuchadnezer: for putting all men (like Neba) to Death that will not Idolize these Images of their own setting up. But if these would consider that their Reputation lyes in other Mens hands, they would certainly remember that it is rather to be won with gentleness, and civility, than by rigor and force. The suddain snatching of so brittle a Mettle may crack it, when Care and soft usage may preserve it entire. And the best advice that can be given in this case, is certainly this: (viz.) That Men would be so Ingenious as to get a Reputation before they grow so very Zealous to keep it.

But there is a Second sort of Gentlemen, who would take this advice as an Affront, because they come not under the scandal of Debauchery: And yet many of these are Peccant in a more than commendable forwardness to receive affronts, though not so ready to give them. These (in their own conceits) have Honours of a most Prodigious Magnitude, and indeed swel'd to that Disproportion, that it is rather to be feared they are puft up with a Tympany of Pride, than consolidated with firm Nobility. If a Man that has not the Breeding of the Town come into their Company, 'tis impossible he should live: Alas! this dull Animal cannot breath in their Aura. There is Civility in its Purity, when a Man that does not understand himself can neither look, speak, nor do any thing but what is taken for an abuse: If there arise any Dispute, he must • ffer nothing in opposition, but what must be Usher'd in with a by your pardon Sir, I think 'tis so—And indeed the ill-bred Gentleman may gain a Fortune in the Country with half the ceremony that he must here make use of to Arm himself against a Challenge. I confess these clowns are unhappy in their want of Education, and either by their ill Managery of their actions, or their foolish retorts in a dispute, they oftentimes become rediculous in themselves, and abusive to others. But yet methinks an ingenious Soul should make these Occurrences the object of his Laughter, rather than of his Anger. I would have Honour like the Palm-Tree, to rise and appear vigorous under any weight, and not like the Plant we call Sensitive, to shrink in at every little Touch.

But the two instances already mentioned come not fully to my Purpose: the disparity is such that it seldom proceeds to a Duel: For the Hector or Ruffin, is one with whom scarce any man will Fight, and the Pedant or Buffoon, is one who will scarce Fight with any Man. The former is usually Compounded with, and the latter commonly lets fall the Suit before it comes to a Tryal: Therefore before you bring the Man of Honour upon the Stage, you must bring him a Competitour, one that is a Gentleman, and in all respects lays as great a claim to Gallantry as himself; when such meet upon the least shadow of an affront arises a Quarrel, which is presently seconded with a Challenge, and ends in a Duel, as if it were impossible for these Cocks of the Game to see one another without Animosity. If they cannot be happy in a better occasion, the taking of the Wall shall serve the turn, and if either attempts to go next it, his Adversary shall do his best to verifie the Proverb, by endeavouring him to prove him the weakest.

But almost daily experience informs us of worse effects of the Sword, than those we hear of in rencounters, of which, if we inquire into the causes and originals, we shall find them comprized chiefly in three Heads: namely, PLAY, WINE and WOMEN. And whosoever will be at the trouble of keeping a Diurnal of the Transactions of this City, I dare say, shall scarce need any other Common-place, to refer all the Duels that have been fought for some years past, and will be Fought for some years to come, than These. How frequent (I may say constant) effects of this Nature do we daily find to be the Natural consequences of Play? Passion is its unseparable Companion, and if Fortune prove ever so little adverse, the Loser takes occasion to Quarrel, not only at Her, but the very person she assists, though (perhaps) a Bosom Friend, or a neer Relation. As if he resolved to humour his Fortune with his Carriage, and scorned to behave himself well, when the Dice run ill: Every unlucky throw puts him into an Outrage, and being grown desperate upon the loss of his money, he Pawns his Reason: Then follow the God-dam-you's, and Plague-confound-you's: Nay, and 'tis much if he give not the Lye, or the Son of a Whore, nor is it at all to be admired, if having broken out into Prophaness, he keeps not within the Rules of Civility. These (I confess) are indignities not to be endured, and let a Man he never so well Armed with Moderation or Friendship, yet such assaults as these, presently make a breach, and force him to Proclaim open War. So that in effect Speering's Ordinary proves the ready way to Lambs-Conduit; and a smooth Table becomes as fatal to throw Dice upon, as a Drum-head.

Nor is Wine a less incendiary to these kind of Heats and Quarrels, than Play: Nay, most commonly it is the first mover, not only of the remoter Effects, but also of the more immediate causes; for Gameing and Whoring would be meagre and disregarded vices, were they not pampered up with Drinking. This takes away those Rubs and Obstacles which Sobrie • Dictates to our Reason; and removes those Boomes, which a temperate resolution had set up as Guides, and non ultra's, and while we miss these, no wonder if we run our selves a ground: Every Man when he is Sober, knows that to play with Rooks and Confederates, is to make Ducks and Drakes of his Money; and yet one drunken sit removes all his Jealousies, and then he will venture himself with any Fellows, and his money at any rate.

But supposing him so prudently drunk, as not to be drawn into Play, 'tis odds; but you find him so foolishly Quarrelsom, as that way to run himself into equal inconveniencies. Not one in twenty but is so grosely abusive, that it is beyond the patience of a stranger to endure it: Nay, even his most intimate acquaintance know not where to have him; their good advice is misconstrued, and their actions of friendship mislikt; and unless they have less wine, or more • it in their Heads than he, you may rationally expect one or more of the Company in the literal fence Bloody-drunk. But it may so happen that they are intercepted, and these Intestine (I cannot call them civil) Broyls reconcil'd: Yet the mischief does not commonly • nd there, they do but like neighbouring Princes, who in the heat of War make a League, and both joyn against a common Enemy. They cannot walk (or rather reel) the Street without offering an affront to every one they meet. The best qualified Gentleman, or the modestest Lady cannot pass them without a Rudeness offered: So that tracing them from the Tavern to Whetstones-Park, you will assuredly find some drops of Blood, or hear of some work cut out for the next Morning.

And then indeed begins a Tragi-comoedy, enough to make Democritus look serious, or Heraclitus laugh: Were there a thousand Craessus's, 'tis impossible they should contain themselves, seeing these Asses mumbling Thistles: One of these awakes in discontent, just remembring that he did challenge a Gentleman, and appointed him a place of meeting, but has forgotten where: A Second remembers the place, but knows nothing else of the Quarrel. A third remembers the Gentleman to have been most grosely abused, without any cause at all. Well, after this coucil of war has debated the thing, and consulted their Honours, the result of all is a necessity of Fighting. Thus as the Pope proves himself infallible by maintaining the Errours he runs into: so these Gentlemen justifie all their actions to be Honourable by vindicating those that are otherwise.

And now I am to beg pardon of the Ladys for shouldring them into any concern in this Tragedy: How they came to be engaged, I know not, but according to my observation, they are rather the occasions of it, than actors in it. We have a saying, that there is seldom any mischief done, but a woman is at one end of it. But in this case, the mischief proceeds most commanly from our foolish zeal, not from their instigations. I conceive the Precedence due to those that are honourable, and therefore I shall first instance in them; such (I mean) as have preserved their reputations, and are esteemed Vertuous: and certainly no such person can be thought accessary to our follies, or a fomentour of our vices, but it (as the Sophister calls it) causa per accidens, as in this case.

Supposing a Lady Young, Rich, and Handsom, having done that, you suppose her surrounded with Servants, of whom possibly she Affects one more Peculiarly, and he that is thus happy or unfortunate, (call it which you please) must either Relinquish his hopes, or Maintain them with his Sword. If he be Victorious in the first Encounter, he shall meet with a Second, and if there be Twenty of these Rivals, they shall have the Fate of Red breasts, shut up in an Aviary: all must dye save one, and none must enjoy this Venus, but the God of War: While each has set up a resolution not to desire her Affection, but win it; which to effect, they propose no other way, than by destroying the object of it: and yet this goes for a piece of Gallantry, not only Justifiable, but Meritorious: such an example of Knight-Errantry, as that a Man cannot prove himself a Gentleman without it. I confess I admire Actions of this Nature, as much as any Man, but it is for the rashness and folly of them: for I cannot fancy they have any rational aim or design. Do men hereby propose to themselves enjoyment of the Lady? To me it seems very improbable that such a wontan as we have already supposed, should love a Man for no other reason but that he has Murthered him she formerly inclined to: or to reward the improvident Husband with the Grapes, because she chatcht him cutting down the supporters of the Vine.

But allowing this to be well received on the Ladies part, there remains yet another difficulty to be removed before it can proceed to a Sack-posset: there is a place hight Newgate, and a Creature ycleped, a Judge, that will have something to say to Mr. Bridegroom, in Potentia, who perhaps forbids the Banns, and so deprives him of the opportunity of being called handsom Man, as he is going to Church, but gives him as fair a one as he is going to the Gallows. Thus falls this Champion of Honour a Martyr to Love, and he that fancied himself to live with all Imaginable esteem, and repute, now dyes with unconceiveable reproach and disgrace, confessing that Honour in Youth is but an itch o'th' blood, Of doing things extravagantly good.

Yet, I confess, of all instances this last, as 'tis the most excusable in it self, so 'tis the least deplorable in the consequences of it: because he that suffers is a single person, and pays no debts but those of his own contracting: whereas in some cases, though the Halter puts an end to a Mans Life and Honour together, yet the Shame and Misery survives to his Posterity (if he has any.) 'Tis possible the Pendant Gentleman may leave a Widow and Orphans bewailing his Dishonour, and their own Misfortune: for while he makes a forfiture of his estate to the King, and his good Name to the VVorld, he Entails upon them nothing but Seandal and Beggery.

As these Disasters therefore are not always occasioned by Civil WOMEN, so neither are they always the effects of Love: For if a Gentleman be handing a Lady along the Street (whatever she be) how unmercifully stout does he grow upon a suddain, a Man cannot pass by this shrine, but he must do it reverence, at least by keeping a fit distance, if casually he gives her the least justle, 'tis ten to one but this zealous Gallant, out of an ambition to ingratiate himself, and appear a Man of mettle, comes out with his Damme! what d'ee mean. or how now Logger-head, what's that for? and either he draws himself, or gives the other provocation enough to do it. Is not this the Mode of the Town: and do not several occurrences like these happen in a Year? Insomuch that many times men lose their lives in vindicating the reputation of a common Whore; as if Honour (by a kind of Antiperistasis) were to be maintained by things dishonourable, or (like the Fig-tree) did flourish best, when planted near to Rue.

And now having traced these disturbed and unpleasant streams through all their by-paths, and Moeanders, from their several spring-heads, down to the Red-Sea, whether they all tend. I think it time to cast an eye toward the Mountain tops: Those (I mean) of the Nobility & Gentry, who either by their Valour or Wisdom, are grown to a greatness and height above the level of other men. To whom I intend not to be so unjust, as to endeavour to raze or undermine those Pyramids, which either their Ancestours or themselves have erected as perpetual Memorials of their Honour. And indeed, could I be so malicious, or daring, to attempt this, how strangely would my endeavours be intercepted, when our English Noble-men, like those of Troy, put forth their assisting hand, to their own destruction, and themselves become instrumental to the Demollishing of their own Babel? If two of these Structures stand neer together, lifting up their heads of equal height, what aemulation and envy does it beget, one must be pulled down, e're the other can be thought throughly established? as if the Temple of Honour could be well built upon nothing but its own ruines: or like the Capitol, it could not be firmly founded, but where the builders find a dead Mans skul. So that if you take a strickt Survey of any of these, you will find the Walls graced (as they call it) with several Hic jacet's; of which kind of Monuments, the more there are, the more beautiful and gorgeous is the Fabrick esteemed. Thus do they make Honour a Canibal, or Horsleach, hungry for want of Mans flesh, and thirsting after blood; and intimate to the World that there is a God of Honour, so incensed, that nothing will apease him but Human Sacrifice, and that his Votaries must offer nothing at his Altar, but like the Priests of Baal, with the dreadful Cerimony of Cutting and Wounding. This kind of Religion I dare not contradict or reprove, it being the constant resolve of the Maturest deliberations, to attempt Achievements of this Nature, and the Pride and Glory of the stoutest Champions, to be blest in these their undertakings, with a Prosperous success, of whom he is the most Honourable that has the most Gules in his Escutcheon, and the most happy that has enroll'd the greatest number of Martyrs in the Kalender of Honour.

This, for ought I know, may not be an errour in Planets of the Superiour Orbs: but sure I am, it begets one in the inferiour and sublunary bodies, who while they look upon these as true lights, and safe guides, find themselves (as by an Ignis fatuus) benighted, and seduced. Noblemen cannot but discern how Gentlemen of less quality throng and croud to come as neer them as is possible, imitating them according to (nay beyond) their Abilities, in their Habit, Carriage, and all pieces of Gallantry: Nay, even in their Vices; esteeming all things Lawful, or at least Creditable which are worthy of their pursuit. And were it not an easie matter for them to bring this foolish and rash way of Duelling into contempt, by being neither examples nor countenancers of it?

It would be Arogance in me, to propose any way for the effecting of this, but my confidence of the Facility of it is (I believe) well grounded, for all Men know, that whosoever kills a Man in a Duel, is Ipso Facto, to be put to death by the Law, and yet the Fountain of Honour, and the Lawgiver, are one and the same Person: (Viz.) The King: whom we must Accriminate with absurd and incongruous contradictions in his actions, if we suppose him to confer Honour upon a Person, and then immediately make such Laws, which if he obeys 'tis possible for him to preserve. Were there no other means to be used for the preservation of a Man's Honour, but to Duel the person that assaulted it, is it to be imagined that there would ever have been so severe a Law against Duelling? so then, the necessity of Fighting must be removed, or the incongruity allowed, which would be flat Treason.

A Man is dub'd Knight Banneret in the Field, for some signal piece of Service; is this person therefore obliged to challenge every Hot-headed Boy, that shall call him Coward at home? or may he not by a Sober and Prudent carriage maintain his Honour without it: and order it so, that the Pert Youth appear a Ridiculous Child, while he proves himself as Prudent as Stout. And have we not many gallant examples of this temper in the Kingdom? Are there not Men of unquestioned Valour, who have made the Enemy confess them to be Lyons, and yet will suffer these wanton Kids to leap into their very mouths without harm? By which means (I think) they rather confirm themselves to be true bred, than give any man occasion to suppose them degenerate.

And now (I fancy) I have but one sort of Men left to deal with: (viz.) Those that allow Duels to he unlawful, and consequently dishonourable; and yet out of a vain glorious humour will venture at all, resolving to purchase the Name of Man, though with the Epethets of foolish or miserable. Yet I am of an opinion, that if the good Laws provided in this case were duly executed, much of this fool-hardiness would be abated. But I can never hope to convince one by Reason, whom the remissness of Justice, or abundance of Mercy has thus emboldned: and therefore I will try (if he be not above Fear) to deter him, by setting before him the unequal terms upon which he must sometimes fight. This Catholique Dueller must be supposed to maintain his Honour in all places, and with all persons: If so, than fancying him to be small in stature, or to have any natural defect, or impediment whereby he is rendred uncapable of bearing up against one every way compleat, is it probable that such a one should be Victorious? So that this poor Lamb goes into the field but as a victim to Honour, and dies with double disadvantage to be first abused, and afterwards killed for it: and all the benefit that he reaps by it, is the Encomium of pretty mettl'd fellow, and the Elegy, of a thou sand pitties. Thus does he gain compassion instead of Honour, and Fools Paradice instead of Heaven.

But though Probability gives this Gyant the Victory, yet 'tis possible that Fortune may so guide the Pigmy's sword, that it may reach the heart of this Man of Gath, who upon such an accident, falls with all imaginable disgrace; so that in an unequal Duel 'tis almost impossible for either of the Sword-men to obtain even that which the vauntingest huff miscalls Honour; for in the first instance the infirmities of the Enemy are traduced as blots in the Escucheon of the Victor, and in the last, the Conquest is wholly ascribed to Chance: and therefore I approve of the answer given by a Gentleman, who having a great Impediment in his Eyes, desired his Antagonist (who Challenged him at Rapier) to meet him in a dark Cellar with a Hatchet: But fancying all desired Parity, persons equal in Strength, Skill, and Courage, how Casual then is the Event! Certainly in such a case the Victor must allow himself indebted to Fortune for his Success, because (as I said) there is an equallity. Might not such Desperadoes as these, be perswaded upon a mutual affront, to draw cuts for their lives, agreeing that he who drew the shortest should hang himself to give the other satisfaction? Why not? For the prudence of this way 'tis certainly the best, because the equallest, having its whole dependance upon a casualty; whereas in a Duel one of the Combatants may have the advantage of skill. For the mettle of it, 'tis the stoutest, because one of them must assuredly dye; whereas in a Duel a Coward may encourage himself with the hopes of being disarmed, or lightly wounded: For the mercy of it, 'tis the most commendable; for here only one perisheth, whereas in a Duel both may be slain, or desperately hurt: For the satisfaction of it, 'tis the compleatest; for here a Man has Plenary Restitution, made by the Offenders own hands, while he lives at peace and liberty, to enjoy the happiness: whereas in a Duel, though he does kill his Adversary, yet the Laws call a Man into question, and perhaps take away his Life: For the pleasure of it, 'tis (without doubt) the most ticking; for here you may please your self with seeing your Enemy do Execution artificially upon himself, whilst you stand by as a safe Spectator: whereas in a Duel the danger much abates of the Lechery: And lastly, for the Honour of it, 'tis far the greatest: for here the vanquisht is but hang'd: and that only in sight of two or three Friends (perhaps:) whereas in a Duel, the conquerour many times suffers a more ignominious death, even among Malefactors, and before thousands of beholders. What a Ridiculous Soloecism in Morrals is Duelling! when even so Bruitish a proposition as this, should appear far more Rational and Eligible.

But there is one thing yet behind, which hugely agravates the indiscretion of it, that indeed whereby the name of Folly is swallowed up in madness: That is the use of Seconds. How this custome crept into the World, I cannot tell, but to me it seems the most absurd that can be thought of: I am not so well versed in Martial History, as to give you an account of the Original of these. But sure I am, if they were intended for good, their Design is strangely perverted: Were they Spectatours only to see that no Foul play (as they call it) be offered: or such as might be assistant, as Chirurgeons, it were tollerable: But as they are now used, 'tis a Frenzy not to be Parallel'd. I need not inform the compleat Dueller that the Mode now adays, is for all the Seconds to draw at once with the Principal; and among them the Engagement is as vigorous as if each were the very person that first gave the affront. This indeed is Honour in it's purity! wherein the most curious eye cannot discern the least dregs: this is that excellently refined Mettal, which will endure the nicest touch of the choicest Loadstone! The Principal may be encouraged by Passion, or animated by Revenge, but here's he that will fight with any man in the quarrel of a Friend; nay, of a Stranger, quickned by no other Spur than that of Honour: In Heavens Name! what irreconcileable absurdities? what unavoidable dangers do men voluntarily run into? was ever, (no 'tis impossible) any thing in the world so heteradox to reason, nay, to common-sence, as this? for a man to go into the Field, to meet he knows not whom, perhaps a bosom Friend: to fight in justification of he knows not what, it may be giving the Lye: to lose his life in Complezance, he knows not how: possibly by being over-power'd by two or three This is an Intreague, that for my Som I cannot comprehend: A Gordian knot so interwoven, and complicated, that were Alexander himself alive, it would nonplus both him and his Sword. What can be • th Riddle of this! Do men propose safety to themselves, by electing Seconds? If they do, I deny their Major. For if either of the Seconds fall, I suppose (pardon me if I err) he that flew him, may if he please, return to the assistance of his own principal; and then there are two against one. So that one chosen for a safe guard, may become either through his want of skill, or good luck, destructive to the Person for whom he Engages. But there is yet a a greater inconvenience that attends this Folly: For when only two fight, 'tis very possible that satisfaction may be had without the Death of either. But in this case where four or six engage, 'tis not to be imagined they shall all escape, and all Men know that the Death of either, renders all parties concerned as obnoxious to the Law, as if each were the man that had given him his mortal wound. In my apprehension, such undertakers seem to have no other Plot, than by setting themselves beyond the bounds of safety, to let the World know how little they fear Death: And does not every fellow that is possest with Despair, a Frenzy, the Devil, or what you will call it, while he Stabs, Hangs, or Drowns himself, deserve to be enrolled among these Martyrs of Honour, upon the same account? I think he does.

But to what purpose do I argue, when even mens own inclinations supersede my reasonings. In this case men by a Diabolical kind of infatuation, do that which they would not, and confute the succession of Action and Election. 'Tis in vain to diswade a man from an enterprize, when he says himself, —Video meliora probo{que} Deteriora sequor.— Nor can I rationally expect such mens compliance with my arguments, who cannot be obedient to their own wills. I dare appeal to any Man, whether he ever went into the Field (to fight a Duel I mean) unconcernedly: or having slain his adversary, returned joyfully. And can this be true Honour that has Regret for its Companion, and Sorrow for its Lackey?

And now having gone so far, as to decry Duelling, and to declare it as my opinion, that a wounded reputation is not to be cured by weapon-salve: It may be expected that I should propose some more justifiable way for the satisfaction of a Person injured in his good Name, by the reproaches of another.

But I conceive it improper to prepare Restoratives, before a Patient is satisfied that he is distempered: and Rude, thus to endeavour to drench him into Health against his Will; and take away the edge of that, which he calls a good stomach, when, indeed, it is appetitus caninus.

But if the attempt I have made, chance to work any way upon the Spirits of the Duellist, so as to bring him to himself, out of those raving fits, in which there is no coming neer him, without danger; I have those Lenitives in store, that will not (I hope) prove so Ganenically nauseating, but that he may down with them: nor so Spirituous, and Chimical, but that he may take them safely: such as I dare say, will be conducing to long Life, and effect the Cure (as the Quack's Bill runs) without hindrance of business, or loss of reputation.

And if this first Essay find the least of a favourable reception among Men, I shall adventure upon a second endeavour, to shew how in most cases a Man's Honour may be preserv'd without Duels: and remove the Tyranical imposition of sitting at a Feast with a Sword hanging over our heads, fastned only by a hair. Yet least I should never meet with this encouragement; I only say in general, he that will preserve his Honour entire, and his Reputation sound; let him be morally good; let him behave himself submissively towards his Superiours, Valliantly towards his Enemies, Civilly towards his Equals, and Courteously towards his Inferiours; such a Deportment as this will prove a gag to Malice, and a scourge to Slander: and whosoever is of this temper, will soon find that the satisfaction a man gives to the World, by his own life, is better than that which he reaps to himself by another Man's Death.

FINIS.