"I have tried to show you the criminal insanity of dueling, and now I will ask you to consider its consequences--as a case in point, the consequences to you two young men, had you succeeded in your unlawful design to fight this duel with Anglesea. You, Le, might have been killed. You would probably have fallen dead at the first fire, for Anglesea is a sure shot, and as vindictive as Satan, and he would have aimed at your heart. You would have dropped dead on the field. Anglesea would have promptly made his escape. But your friend here would have been arrested and held as an accessory to your murder. He would have languished many months in jail, then been brought to trial--the long and tedious trial of the present age--perhaps through many trials, appealed from court to court; perhaps, after months or years of imprisonment and suspense, he might be finally acquitted, or--sent to the State prison. "Then, on the other hand, by the chances of war, you might, instead of being killed yourself, have killed your adversary, in which contingency, Leonidas, your fate would have been far worse. You, Le, would have been arrested for murder, and would have been thrown into prison without bail. The same tedious imprisonment and repeated trials would have been your fate; you might have escaped the worst verdict, but you would certainly have been convicted of manslaughter and sent to the State prison, for you were the challenger, which was an aggravation of the offense. "But I will dwell no longer on the probable consequences of your meditated deed. You were, no doubt, prepared to meet all the contingencies, to bear all the penalties. I will drop that part of the subject, and only revert to the first great argument against dueling--its flagrant disregard and defiance of the laws of God and man. "And now, Leonidas Force, I shall require you to give bonds to the amount of ten thousand dollars to keep the peace." "Will you receive my own for that sum, sir?" inquired the young man. "Certainly," said the squire. And then, turning to the second offender, he said: "Mr. Roland Bayard, I shall require you to give bonds for one thousand dollars to keep the peace." "The Lord only knows where I am to pick up that sum. I reckon you'll have to send me to prison in default of bail, squire." "No, you needn't, squire. I'm assessed for fourteen thousand dollars, and so I reckon you may take me as his bail for one thousand, mayn't you?" inquired Miss Sibby, rising from her chair and leaning over the table. "Certainly," replied Mr. Force. The good magistrate had so little call to exercise his office in his peaceful neighborhood that he never required the services of a clerk, and did not possess one. He quickly drew up the necessary papers, had them signed and sealed, locked them in his desk, and discharged the prisoners in a very unmagisterial manner. "And now, my young friends, let us forget this unpleasant scene, while you both stay and dine with us."