The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware register., 1824-10-28
CONFESSIONS OF A DUELLIST.

think Johnson is of opinion, that man
ought not to be stigmatized as liar whose
offence does not extend beyond single
faIschood. Perhaps, therefore, am bear
ing 10 hard Oh myself in taking the name OF
d duellist, for never fought but once, and
am now (was going to say thank God,) too
Old to be called again into the field.
do not intend to write a sermon against
the practice Of fighting duels, nor fiippant
essay in its praise. am going to tell my
own story, which may, for aught know,
furnish grounds by which the advocates on
ether side will Justify their own opinions.
This ut least, is the usual consequence OF
offering facts to the attention Of theorists.
| believe myself, as who does not, a man
of peaceablc demeanor. l set out IN lite
with the determination neverto give an IN
suit however provoked-never to resent the
conduct of others, unless offence was undeni-
ably intended-and never to submit to an n-
suit when the fact was clearly asccrtained.
BY the aid of my two first rules, | passed
over the period of youth without once find
ing it necessary to resort to my third. My
tastes and pursuits, it is true, did not lead
me much into society where | was in any
great danger OF quarrellng, and to this cir
cumstance owe perhaps as much as to my
good rules. Be this as it may, never re-
ceived challenge in my life, and | was
married and IA father before | had found it
necessary to send one. At length however,
my hour came. A man of higher rank than
myself thought proper to use language to-
wards me which had not provoked, and to
which could not submit without irretrieva-
bic degradation. | waited until the next
day TO give my opponent time tor his passion
to cool, and then sent a friend to him to re-
quirc an explanation. He refused to make
the slightest atonement, but instantly rcfur-
red my second to his own, and meeting
was appointed for the following morning.
was walking when my friend returned.
III the Temple gardens. 1t was beautiful
day in June the spring, recollect had been
late and cold, and we had but just begun to
taste the enjoyments of summer--they were
heightened by all the zest OF novelty. Eve"
ry OBJECT around me, animate and lnanimate,
spoke of peace and happiness. The YER
tlurc, even in the heart OF London, had lost
nothing of its freshness. The river was
bright and sparkling, and the wherries shot
down the tide, bearing their joyous cargoes
gaily along
The garden was crowded with groups Of
the young and happy-the butterflies OF the
earth rejoicing in their summer garments
and looking AS though winter was banished
forever from the outer and the inner world.
had appointed this place as rendezvous
for my friend and could not leave 1t ; but
cursed my folly iii exposing myself to such
needless lin, for nothing could be less y.
unison than my thoughts with the genus OF
the place. was in the prime OF iite-l had
ncaith and competence--l was not tortured
with ambition. but neither was subject to
enaui. MY avocations were agreeaoie %
my taste. and not laborious; and my home
wis blest with an Affectionate wife and two
de,r little ones These are not the things
which make it pleasant to be shot at.
NV friend was the best creature IN the
world, and knew by his gait, long before
could read his face, that he was the bearer
of i'll news. He put his arm within mine,
and we walked together in silence for some
time, and our communication, when it took
place, was one of Spartan brevity. Where
and when 10 we meet? asked. To which
he replied, in Greenwich Park, at SIX to-
morrow morning. Very well! Have post
chaise at your chamber by tive, and VIII
join YOU. We then shook hands and parted
II went to the Grecian, ordered private
room. and set down to write. Never VIII
the bitterness OF that evening pass away
from my mind. ] could not bear the
thoughts of dying without leaving some me-
mortal, which might justify myself IN the
ewes of my wife and of my dear children;
when they became cid enough to judge ef
! .-,x, rerIrrN