"I cannot reconcile it with propriety to make the acknowledgment or denial you desire. I will add that I deem it inadmissable on principle to consent to be interrogated as to the justness of the inferences which may be drawn from others, from whatever I may have said of a political opponent in the course of fifteen years' competition. I stand ready to avow, or disavow promptly and explicitly, any precise or definite opinion which I may be charged with having declared of any gentleman. More than this cannot be fitly expected from me; and especially it cannot be reasonably expected that I shall enter into an explanation upon a basis so vague as that which you have adopted. I trust on more reflection, you will see the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only regret the circumstance, and must abide the consequences." The immediate response of Burr to the above, after repeating his former demand, contained the following: "Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from the necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws of honor and the rules of decorum. I neither claim such privilege, nor indulge it in others." Hamilton's reply being unsatisfactory, the formal challenge of Burr was soon thereafter handed to him by W. P. Van Ness. The last named was the second of Burr, and Nathaniel Pendleton was the friend of Hamilton. Some days elapsed after the formal acceptance of the challenge before the fatal meeting. That Hamilton was anxious to avoid the conflict, clearly appears from a perusal of the many publications that immediately followed. A paper he prepared explanatory in character, the second of Burr declined to receive, on the ground that he considered the correspondence closed by the acceptance of the challenge. It touches our sympathies deeply even after the lapse of a century to read the letter written by Hamilton to his wife to be delivered in the event of his death, in which he states that he has endeavored by all honorable means to avoid the duel which probably he would not survive. He begs her forgiveness for the pain his death would cause her, and entreats her to bear her sorrows as one who has placed a firm reliance on a kind Providence. A few days before his death, he and Burr were guests at a dimmer given by the Cincinnati Society, of which both were members. Few persons were aware of what was pending, but it was observed that Hamilton "entered with glee into all the gayety of a convivial party, and even sang an old military song." Burr, upon the contrary, was "silent, gloomy, and remained apart."