Dueling, Past And Present

Harper's Magazine. Twenty-five years ago, at the table of a gentleman whose father had fallen in a dnel, the conversatiou feil upon duelling, and after it had proceeded for sonio time the host remarked, emphatieally, that there were occasions when it was aman'ssolemn duty to fight. The personal refereñee was too significant to permit fnrther insistcnce at that table that duelling was criminal folly. and tho subject of eonversation was changed. The host, however, had only reitcrated the familiar view of (eneral Htunilton. His plea was, that in the state of public opinión at tho time when iiurr challeuged him, to refuse to fight nndcr circumstances which by tho "code of honor"' authorized a challenge, was to booept a brand of cowardicó'and of a want of gentleman]}' feeling, which would banish him to a moral and social Coventry, and throw v cloud of diseredit upon his family. So Hamilton, ono of the bravest mciv and ono of the acutest intellects of his time, permitted a worthless fellow to murdcr him. Yet there is no doubt that he stated accurately the general feoling of the social oirole in which he lived. Thero was probably nol a conspicuous momber of that sociotj' who was of military antecodents who 'would Bat have challcngnd anv man who had said of him what Hainillon had said of Burf. Hamilton disdained expl.ination or recantation, and tlie result was accepted as tragical, but in a cortain sense inevitable. Yet that result aroused public sentiment to the atrocity of this barbarous survival of the ordeai of private battle. That ono of the most justly renowned of public men, of unsurpassed ability, nhould be shot to death liko a mad dog, becausse he had expressed the general feehng about an nnprinoipled schemer, was an exasporating public misfortune. Uut that hc shouldliavo been murdered in defereace to a practice which was approved in the best society, yet whieb placed overy other valuable life at the mercy of any wily vagabond, was a public peril. Froni that day to this there has been no duel whicn could be said to have conimanded public sympathy or approval. From the bright Junemorning, eighty years ago, when Haniilton feil at Weelawken, to the June of this year, when tvvofoolishmen shot at each other in Virginia, there has been a steady and complete change of public opinión, and the performance of this year wasreceived with almost universal contempt, and with indignan t censure of a dilitory pólice. The most celebrated duel In this country since that of Hamilton and Burr was theencounterbetween Commodores Decatur and Barron, in 1820, near Washington, in which Decatur, like Hamilton, was mortally wounded, and likewise lived but a few hours. The quarrel was one of professional, as Kurr's of political, jealously. But as the only conceivablo advantage of the Hamilt'in duel lay in its arousing the public miad to the barbarity of queïling, the only gain from the Decatur duel was that it conörmed this conviclion. In both instances there was an unspeakable shock to the country and infinite domestic anguish. Nothing else was achieved. Neither general manners nor moráis were improred, nor was the fame of either combatant heightened, nor public conftdence in the men or admiration of their public services increased. In both cases it was a calamity alleviated solely by the resolutdon which it awaki'iiedtha.tsuch calamities should not occur again. Such a resolution, indeed, could not at once prevai, and eighteen years ifter Decanter waa killed, Jonathan Ciiley,of Maine, was killed in a duel ai Washington by Williani J Graves, of Kentuckv. Thisevent occurred forty-fi ve years auö, but the outcry with which it was received even at that timo - one of the newspaper moralists lasjiing into rhyme as he deplored the cruel custom whicfe led excellent men lo the fatal iield- "Where Cilleys meet thelr Graves" - and the practical disappearance of Mr. Graves from public life, showed how deep and strong was the public condemnaiion, and liow radieally the general view of the duel w:is changed. Even in the burning height of tho political and sectional animosity of 185C, when Brooks liad assaultcd Charles Sumner, the cliallenge of Brooks by somo of ¦ umner's friends met witli little public sympathy. During the excitement the Easy Chair inel the late Count Gurowski, who was a constant and devotcd friend of Mr. Sumner, but an okl-world man, with all thehereditary social prejudices of tho old world. The Count was furious that such a uastardly blow had not been avenged. 'Ha he no friends?'' heexclaimed. "Is there no honor left in your country?" And, as if ho would burst with indignant impatience, he shook both his üsts in the air, and thundered out, ''Good God! will not somebodv cliallenge anybody?" No, that time is passed. The eklerly club dude may lament the decay of the good old code of honor - a word of which ho has a very ludierous concep?.ion- as Major Pendeunis, when he pulled off his wig, and took out his false teeth, and ïemoved tho padded calves of his legs, used to hopo the world was not sinking into shame in its old age. Quarrelling editors may win a niorning's notonety by stealing to tho field, furnishing a paragraph to the reporters and running away from the pólice. But they gain only the unsavory notoriety of the man in'a curled wig and flowered waistcoat and huge ftapped coat of the last century who used to parade Broadway. The costume was inerely an advertisement, and of very contemptible wares. The man who tights a duel today excites but ono comment. Should he escape, ho is ridiculous. Should ho f all, the common opinión ot enlightened mankind writes upon his head stone, "He died as tho fooi dieth."