enemy he had in the world. Indeed he was his only enemy, and he could
not tell the reason that had made him so. He had employed every effort
to overcome his animosity, but in vain. The deceased had upon all
occasions sought to mortify him, and do him an ill turn; but he had
resolved never to be engaged in a broil with him, and till this day he
had succeeded. If he had met with a misfortune with any other man,
people at least might have thought it accident; but now it would always
be believed that he had acted from secret malice and a bad heart.

The fact was, that he and his sweetheart had gone to a neighbouring
fair, where this man had met them. The man had often tried to affront
him; and his passiveness, interpreted into cowardice, had perhaps
encouraged the other to additional rudeness. Finding that he had endured
trivial insults to himself with an even temper, the deceased now thought
proper to turn his brutality upon the young woman that accompanied him.
He pursued them; he endeavoured in various manners to harass and vex
them; they had sought in vain to shake him off. The young woman was
considerably terrified. The accused expostulated with their persecutor,
and asked him how he could be so barbarous as to persist in frightening
a woman? He replied with an insulting tone, "Then the woman should find
some one able to protect her; people that encouraged and trusted to such
a thief as that, deserved no better!" The accused tried every expedient
he could invent; at length he could endure it no longer; he became
exasperated, and challenged the assailant. The challenge was accepted; a
ring was formed; he confided the care of his sweetheart to a bystander;
and unfortunately the first blow he struck proved fatal.

The accused added, that he did not care what became of him. He had been
anxious to go through the world in an inoffensive manner, and now he had
the guilt of blood upon him. He did not know but it would be kindness in