In 1784, Mr. Thomas Percival, an eminent physician, of Manchester, in England, published a work, against duelling, and sent a copy to Dr. Franklin. Dr. Franklin replied to Mr. Percival, from Passy, July 17, 1784, and his reply contains the following observations—“Formerly, when duels were used to determine lawsuits, from an opinion, that Providence would in every instance, favor truth and right, with victory, they were excusable. At present, they decide nothing. A man says something, which another tells him is a lie. They fight; but whichever is killed, the point in dispute remains unsettled. To this purpose, they have a pleasant little story here. A gentleman, in a coffee-house, desired another to sit further from him. ‘Why so?’—‘Because, sir, you stink.’—‘That is an affront, and you must fight me.’—‘I will fight you, if you insist upon it; but I do not see how that will mend the matter. For if you kill me, I shall stink too; and, if I kill you, you will stink, if possible, worse than you do at present.’”

This is certainly germain to the matter. So far from perceiving any moral courage, in those, who fight duels, nothing seems more apparent, than the triumph of one fear, over four other fears—the fear of shame, over the fear of bringing misery upon parents, wives and children—the fear of the law—the fear of God—and the fear of death. Many a man will brave death, who fears it.

Death is the king of terrors, and all men stand in awe of him, saving the Christian, with his armor of righteousness about him, cap-a-pie; and even he, perhaps, is slightly pricked, by that fear, now and then, in articulo, between the joints of the harness. I must honestly confess, that I once knew a man, who had a terrible vixen of a wife, and, when about to die, he replied to his clergyman’s inquiry, if he was not afraid to meet the king of terrors, that he was not, for he had lived with the queen, for thirty years.

I do not suppose there is a more hypocritical fellow, upon earth, than a duellist. Mandeville, in his Fable of the Bees, in the second dialogue, part ii., puts these words into the mouth of Cleomenes, when speaking to Horatio, on the subject of his duel: “I saw you, that very morning, and you seemed to be sedate and void of passion: you could have no concern.” Horatio replies—“It is silly to show any, at such times; but I know best what I felt; the struggle I had within was unspeakable: it is a terrible thing. I would then have given a considerable part of my estate, that the thing which forced me into it, had not happened; and yet, upon less provocation, I would act the same part again, tomorrow.” Such is human nature, and many, who sit down quietly, to write in opposition to this silly, senseless, selfish practice, would be quite apt enough, upon the emergency, to throw aside the pacific steel, wherewith they indite, and take up the cruel rapier. When I was a young man, a Mr. Ogilvie gave lectures, in Boston, on various subjects. He was the son of Mr. Ogilvie, to whose praises of the prospects in Scotland, Dr. Johnson replied, by telling him, that “the noblest prospect, which a Scotchman ever sees, is the high road, that leads him to England.”

The son of this gentleman gave his lectures, in the old Exchange Coffee House, where I heard him, several times. Under the influence of opium, which he used very freely, he was, occasionally, quite eloquent. He lectured, one evening, with considerable power, against duelling. On his way to his lodgings, some person repeated to him, several piquant and cutting things, which a gentleman had said of his lecture. Ogilvie was exceedingly incensed, and swore he would call him out, the very next day.

This law of honor is written nowhere, unless, in letters of blood, in the volume of pride, envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. “What,” says Cleomenes, in the work I have just now referred to—“What makes so just and prudent a man, that has the good of society so much at heart, act knowingly against the laws of his country?”—“The strict obedience,” says Horatio, “he pays to the laws of honor, which are superior to all others.”—“If men of honor,” says Cleomenes, “would act consistently, they ought all to be Roman Catholics.”—“Why so?”—“Because,” he rejoins, “they prefer oral tradition, to all written laws; for nobody can tell, when, in what king’s or emperor’s reign, in what country, or by what authority, these laws of honor were first enacted: it is very strange they should be of such force.”

It is certainly very strange, that their authority should have been acknowledged, in some cases, not only by professing Christians, but even by the ministers of religion. Four individuals, of this holy calling, stand enrolled, as duellists, on the blood-guilty register of England. In 1764, the Rev. Mr. Hill was killed in a duel, by Cornet Gardner. On the 18th of June, 1782, the Rev. Mr. Allen killed Mr. Lloyd Dulany, in a duel. In August, 1827, Mr. Grady was wounded in a duel, by the Rev. Mr. Hodson. The Rev. Mr. Bate fought two duels—was subsequently made Baronet—fought a third duel, and was made Dean. If such atrocities were not preËminently horrible, how ridiculous they would be!

It would not be agreeable to be placed in that category, in which a worthy bishop placed those, who, after Dr. Johnson’s death, began to assail his reputation. “The old lion is dead,” said the bishop, “and now every ass will be kicking at his hide.” Better and safer, however, to be there, than to bide with those, who receive all the coarse, crude, mental eructations of this truly good and great man, for dicta perennia. A volume of outrageously false teachings might readily be selected, from the recorded outpourings of this great literary whale, whenever Boswell, by a little tickling, caused his Leviathan to spout. Too much tea, or none at all, too much dinner, or too little certainly affected his qualifications, as a great moral instructor; and, under the teazle of contradiction, the nap of his great spirit fairly stood on end; and, at such times, he sought victory too often, rather than the truth. It has always seemed to me, that dinner-table philosophy, especially aprÉs, is often of very questionable value.

Dr. Johnson has frequently been quoted, on the subject of duelling. Some of his opinions were delivered, on this subject, suddenly, and seem entirely unworthy of his majestic powers. At a dinner party, at Gen. Oglethorpe’s—I refer to Boswell’s Johnson, in ten volumes, Lond. 1835, vol. iii. page 216—Boswell brought up the subject of duelling. Gen. Oglethorpe, the host, “fired at this, and said, with a lofty air, ‘undoubtedly a man has a right to defend his honor.’”

Dr. Johnson, the principal guest, did the civil thing, and took the same side, and is reported, by Boswell, to have said substantially—“Sir, as men become in a high degree refined, various causes of offence arise; which are considered to be of such importance, that life must be staked to atone for them; though, in reality, they are not so. A body, that has received a very fine polish, may be easily hurt. Before men arrive at this artificial refinement, if one tells his neighbor he lies—his neighbor tells him he lies—if one gives his neighbor a blow, his neighbor gives him a blow: but, in a state of highly polished society, an affront is held to be a serious injury. It must therefore be resented, or rather a duel must be fought upon it; as men have agreed to banish, from society, one, who puts up with an affront, without fighting a duel. Now, sir, it is never unlawful to fight, in self-defence. He, then, who fights a duel, does not fight from passion against his antagonist, but out of self-defence, to avert the stigma of the world, and to prevent himself from being driven out of society. I could wish there was not that superfluity of refinement; but, while such notions prevail, no doubt a man may lawfully fight a duel.” I must have another witness, besides Mr. Boswell, before I believe, that Dr. Johnson uttered these words. Dr. Johnson could never have maintained, that the lawfulness of an act depended upon the existence of certain popular notions. Nor is it true, nor was it then true, that men have agreed to banish, from society, one, who puts up with an affront, without fighting a duel.

Dr. Johnson seems to have made no distinction, between military men and the rest of the world. It is impossible to doubt, that the Doctor was graciously disposed to favor Gen. Oglethorpe’s notions, and that he would have taken the opposite side, had he been the guest of the Archbishop of Canterbury. “It is not unlawful to fight, in self-defence:” the law, by punishing all killing, in a duel, as murder, in the very first degree, shows clearly enough, that duelling is never looked upon, as fighting, in self-defence. It is remarkable, that Mr. Boswell, himself a lawyer, should have thought this paragraph worthy of preservation.

On page 268, of the same volume, Mr. Boswell has the following record—“April 19, 1773, he again defended duelling, and put his argument upon what I have ever thought the most solid basis; that, if public war be allowed to be consistent with morality, private war must be equally so.” And this, in Mr. Boswell’s opinion, was the most solid basis! It is difficult to perceive what is stubble, if this is not. Whither does this argument carry us all, but back to the state of nature—of uncovenanted man—of man, who has surrendered none of his natural rights, as a consideration for the blessings of government and law? A state of nature and a state of society are very different things. Who will doubt, that, if Dr. Johnson really uttered these things, he would have talked more warily, could he have imagined, that Bozzy would have transmitted them to distant ages?

It is, nevertheless, perfectly clear, that Dr. Johnson, upon both these occasions, had talked, only for the pride and pleasure of talking; for Mr. Boswell records a very different opinion, vol. iv. page 249. Sept. 19, 1773.—Dr. Johnson then had thoroughly digested General Oglethorpe’s dinner; and Mr. Boswell’s record runs thus—“He fairly owned he could not explain the rationality of duelling.”

Poor Mr. Boswell! It is not unreasonable, to suppose, that he had inculcated his notions, upon the subject of duelling, in his own family, and repeated, for the edification of his sons, the valuable sentiments of Dr. Johnson. Mr. Boswell died, May 19, 1795. Seven and twenty years after his death, his son, Sir Alexander Boswell, was killed, in a duel, at Auchterpool, by Mr. James Stuart, March 26, 1822. Upon the trial of Stuart, for murder, Mr. Jeffrey, who defended him, quoted the very passage, in which Dr. Johnson had justified, to the father, that fatal sin and folly, which had brought the son to an untimely grave!