Precedents exist for the abolition of this duel, so completely in point, that, according to the lawyer’s phrase, they “go on all fours” with the new case. Two of these have been already mentioned: first, when, at the Diet of Worms, in 1495, the Emperor Maximilian proclaimed a permanent peace throughout Germany, and abolished the “liberty” of Private War; and, secondly, when, in 1815, the German Principalities stipulated “under no pretext to make war upon one another, or to pursue their differences by force of arms.”[242] But first in time, and perhaps in importance, was the great Ordinance of St. Louis, King of France, promulgated at a Parliament in 1260, where he says: “_We forbid battles_ [_i. e._ TRIALS BY BATTLE] _to all persons throughout our dominions, … and in place of battles we put proofs by witnesses.…_ AND THESE BATTLES WE ABOLISH IN OUR DOMINIONS FOREVER.”[243] These at the time were great words, and they continue great as an example. Their acceptance by any two nations would begin the work of abolition, which would be completed on their adoption by a Congress of Nations, taking from war its existing sanction. THE WORLD A GLADIATORIAL AMPHITHEATRE. The growing tendencies of mankind have been quickened by the character of the present war, and the unexampled publicity with which it has been waged. Never before were all nations, even those separated by great spaces, whether of land or ocean, the daily and excited spectators of the combat. The vast amphitheatre within which the battle is fought, with the whole heavens for its roof, is coextensive with civilization itself. The scene in that great Flavian Amphitheatre, the famous Colosseum, is a faint type of what we are witnessing; but that is not without its lesson. Bloody games, where human beings contended with lions and tigers, imported for the purpose, or with each other, constituted an institution of ancient Rome, only mildly rebuked by Cicero,[244] and adopted even by Titus, in that short reign so much praised as unspotted by the blood of the citizen.[245] One hundred thousand spectators looked on, while gladiators from Germany and Gaul joined in ferocious combat; and then, as blood began to flow, and victim after victim sank upon the sand, the people caught the fierce contagion. A common ferocity ruled the scene. As Christianity prevailed, the incongruity of such an institution was widely felt; but still it continued. At last an Eastern monk, moved only by report, journeyed a long way to protest against the impiety. With noble enthusiasm he leaped into the arena, where the battle raged, in order to separate the combatants. He was unsuccessful, and paid with life the penalty of his humanity.[246] But the martyr triumphed where the monk had failed. Shortly afterwards, the Emperor Honorius, by solemn decree, put an end to this horrid custom. “The first Christian Emperor,” says Gibbon, “may claim the honor of the first edict which condemned the