which hinges the fate of Protestant Europe. On all occasions, and even in important engagements, he persists in riding horses easily distinguishable from all others. A few days before the battle of Leipzic, a horse-dealer brought into the camp a noble charger, very peculiarly marked and colored. This fellow was a spy employed by the base and cowardly Austrians, who calculated that Gustavus would ride this fine animal in the approaching engagement, and become an easy mark for their bullets."

"And who," I inquired, "is that broad-shouldered hero, with a clear, dark complexion, accompanied by a fine youth in the garb of a student?" "That man of bone and muscle," he replied, "is the brave and chivalrous Banner, a name admirably characteristic of the man. He is truly a living standard, and, in the wildest tumult of the battle, stands firm as a castle-tower, rallies around him the bewildered soldiers, and leads them on again to combat and to victory. His noble daring cannot, however, be unknown to you. How much I regret that I cannot also show you those valiant soldiers, Collenburg and Teufel. Alas! They fell on the field of Leipzic."

During these details, the king had entered the hall, and taken a chair upon a raised platform at the upper end; his chancellor and staff-officers standing on each side of him.

Sud

denly the lively and beautiful march, which had greeted the entrance of Gustavus, ceased; the king nodded to the band, and the wind instruments began to play the solemn dead-march, usually performed when a condemned officer is going to execution. The large folding-doors again opened, and two black coffins were brought in by soldiers, moving in slow time to the saddening music, and followed by a tall and harsh-looking man, with uncovered head and vulgar features. He wore a red cloak, which but partially concealed a glittering blade of unusual breadth, and resembling ra

The

pon. "What does all this portend?" I eagerly inquired from my old companion, who had hitherto answered all my queries with singular intelligence, and in language far above his apparent condition. Without, however, removing his eager gaze from this singular spectacle below, he briefly answered; "those are two coffins, and that man with the red cloak and sword is the provost-marshal." coffins were placed in two corners of the hall, the headsman retreated behind the body-guards, the music ceased, and Gustavus spoke to the following effect, with an impressive dignity of look, voice, and language, which no time will erase from my recollection. My beloved soldiers and friends! It is well known to you, that after mature deliberation with my faithful counsellors and field-officers, I have forbidden duels in my army, under pain of death to the offending parties. My brave generals expressed their entire approval of this regulation, and recorded their unanimous opinion, that there is no essential connexion between duelling and the true honor of a soldier, and that a conscientious avoidance of single combat is perfectly consistent with heroic courage and an elevated sense of honor.

"The soldier must be animated by a just cause, or his courage is worthless as the embroidery of his uniform; an ornament, but not a virtue. During the middle ages, the practice of duelling was perhaps expedient, to counterbalance the enormous evils which grew out of a lawless state of society; and it must be allowed, that the rude and chivalrous habits of that savage period, were redeemed by no small portion of honorable and devotional feeling. Let us then prefer the substance to the shadow, and model our conduct by the better qualities of our ancestors, instead of copying their romantic exaggerations and absurdities. The lawless days of chivalry are gone by. They have been succeeded throughout Christian Europe by settled governments and institutions, which,

however imperfect, afford comparative security to person and property. Why then will civilized men cling to the savage customs of a savage period? And why are we Protestants? Why are we in arms against Catholics? Is

it not solely because they forbid us to keep pace with an improved state of knowledge, civil and religious? Some of you will perhaps contend, that an occasional duel is favorable to discipline and good manners; but, are you prepared to prove that the Catholic officers, who fight duels with impunity, bear any comparison with mine in urbanity and discipline? And do you attach any value to that base and cowardly complaisance, which springs from the fear of death? Believe me, gentlemen, in a well disciplined army, there will always be an immense majority of brave men, whose courtesy is prompted by good feeling and common sense; and, where the great majority is civilized, rudeness becomes the exception to the rule, and meets with merited contempt and avoidance. Why then will even men of tried courage apply a remedy so strong as mortal combat to an evil so trivial?"

Here Gustavus paused, and fixed his eagle-eyes upon the duellists, who stood with folded arms and sullen mien, in the centre of the hall. Their very souls seemed to quail under his searching glance; their eyes fell, and the dark red hue of conscious guilt suffused their cheeks and foreheads. The royal orator resumed.

"And yet we this day behold two officers of acknowledged bravery, who have yielded to this insane impulse, and who perhaps flatter themselves, that their readiness to stake life will excite admiration and astonishment. I had given them credit for better heads and better hearts, and I lament exceedingly their infatuation. There are some individuals, whose gloomy and ferocious temperament betrays their natural affinity to the tiger and the hyena; whose pride is not ennobled by a spark of honorable feeling; whose courage is devoid of generosity; who have no sympathies in common 42 ATHENEUM, VOL. 1, 3d series.

with their fellow-men; and who find a horrible gratification in hazarding their lives, to accomplish the destruction of any one whose enjoyment of life, health, and reason, is greater than their own. I thank the Almighty that this demoniacal spirit prevails not in my army; and should it unfortunately animate any of my soldiers, they have my free permission to join the gipsy-camps of Tilly and Wallenstein."

The Swedish generals here exchanged looks and nods of proud gratification, and Prince Bernard of Weimar, whose fine eyes flashed with ungovernable delight, advanced a step towards the royal orator, as if he would have expressed his approbation by a cordial embrace. Controlling, however, with visible effort, this sudden impulse, he resumed his place. Meanwhile, the king exchanged a glance of friendly intelligence with his chancellor, and continued in a tone of diminished severity.

"You will probably, gentlemen, charge me with inconsistency in thus sanctioning a public duel, after my promulgation of a general order against the practice of duelling. There are, however, peculiar circumstances connected with this duel, to explain which, and to vindicate myself, I have requested your presence on this occasion. The gentlemen before you, Captains Barstrom and Seifert, are well known as officers of high and deserved reputation. Barstrom has evinced heroic courage on many occasions, and he saved my life in the Polish war, when I was bareheaded and surrounded, Sirot having struck off my iron cap, which heretic head-gear the Austrians sent as a trophy to Loretto. I knighted Barstrom on the field of battle; and, relying upon his good sense and moderation, I promised to grant him a free boon. He never availed himself of this pledge until yesterday, when he soli cited my permission to meet Captain Seifert in single combat.

"Seifert has studied chivalry at German universities, and to good pur

pose, if we may judge from the brilliant valor which made him a captain on the field of Leipzic. He has endeavored to prove to me, by numerous Greek and Latin scraps, that I ought to sanction this duel; but it would not be difficult to bring forward old Homer himself in evidence, that the Greeks were not very fastidious in points of etiquette. For instance, Achilles called Agamemnon "a drunkard, with the look of a dog, and the valor of a deer." Seifert, however, is not a man to be influenced by either classical or Christian authorities; his reason lies in prostrate adoration before the shrine of false honor, that Moloch of the dark ages, around which the chivalry of that period danced, until their giddy brains lost the faculty of distinguishing right from wrong.

Thus solemnly pledged to two irreconcilable obligations, how can I extricate myself from a predicament so embarrassing? I have exhausted my powers of reasoning and persuasion in vain endeavors to accomplish a reconciliation. My promise of a free boon to Barstrom I cannot honorably retract; nor can I, for his sake, infringe upon the salutary law so long established. Happily one alternative remains. These misguided men are determined to fight, and, if possible, to destroy each other. Be it so! Their savage propensities shall be gratified, and I will witness their chivalrous courage and heroic contempt of life. Now, gentlemen! draw, and do your worst! Fight until the death of one shall prove the other the better swordsman; but, mark well the consequence! Soon as one of you is slain, my executioner shall strike off the head of the other. Thus my pledge to Barstrom will be redeemed, and the law against duelling will remain inviolate."

Here Gustavus ceased to speak ;— the solemn dead-march was repeated by the band, the coffins were brought nearer to the duellists, and the grimvisaged executioner again came into view, with his horrible weapon. At this awful moment I beheld Seifert

and Barstrom suddenly rush forward, throw themselves at the feet of Gustavus, and supplicate for mercy.

"Mercy depends not upon me, ut upon yourselves," mildly replied the king, as soon as the band had ceased. "If you do not fight, the executioner will find no occupation here." These words were accompanied by a glance at the headsman, who immediately quitted the hall by a side door. "But if you are sincerely desirous," continued Gustavus, "to regain the good opinion of the brave men and good Christians here assembled, you will at once relinquish every hostile feeling, and embrace each other as friends.”

The duellists instantly flew into each other's arms. Gustavus raised his folded hands and kingly features in devotional feeling towards heaven, and the chancellor gave a signal to the band, which played a fine hymn on reconciliation and brotherly love. I now heard, with inexpressible delight, the King, Oxenstiern, Horn, Banner, Stahlhantsch, and Prince Bernard, with the assembled officers and guards, singing the impressive verses of Luther, with beautiful accuracy of time and tone. The magnificent bass of Gustavus Adolphus was easily distinguishable by its organ-like fulness and grandeur; it resembled the deep low breathing of a silver trumpet, and although forty years have rolled over my head since I heard it, the rich and solemn tones of the royal singer still vibrate upon my memory.

The hallowed feeling spread through hall and gallery, and every one who could sing joined with fervor in the sacred song. Even my old subaltern, whose voice was painfully harsh and unmusical, drew from his pocket a hymn book and a pair of copper spectacles; his tones were tremulous and discordant, but, in my estimation, his musical deficiencies were amply redeemed by the tears which rolled abundantly down his hollow and time-worn cheeks.

Thus was this terrible camp-scene converted, as if by miracle or magic, into a solemn, and, surely, an acceptable service of the Almighty.