We are no apologist for the duelist; we regard the practice of duelling with the deepest detestation and abhorrence, and believe it unjustified, under any circumstances; still, we unhesitatingly say, that those which surrounded Mr. Clay, were approximated as nearly to a justification, as any possibly could. He had resorted to all honorable means to avoid a duel with Mr. Randolph; calling upon and desiring him to explain or retract his insulting language, but he flatly refused. It may not be amiss to state, in this connection, that Mr. Clay reprobated the practice of duelling, himself. This appears from his avowed sentiment relative thereto. ‘I owe it,’ said he, ‘to the community, to say, that whatever, heretofore, I may have done, or by inevitable circumstances may be forced to do, no man in it holds in deeper abhorrence than I do, the pernicious practice of duelling. Condemned as it must be, by the judgment and philosophy, to say nothing of the religion, of every thinking man, it is an affair of feeling, about which we cannot, although we should, reason. The true corrective will be found, when all shall unite, as all ought to unite, in its unqualified proscription.’ The hostile meeting between Mr. Randolph and Mr. Clay, occurred April eighth, 1826. Their last interview took place in March, 1833, a short time previous to the decease of the former. He was on his way to Philadelphia, where he died. Being unable to walk or stand without assistance, he was borne into the senate chamber, to which he was about to pay his last visit. The senate was in session by candlelight. Mr. Clay had risen to make some remarks on the compromise act. ‘Help me up,’ said Mr. Randolph, sitting in a chair, and speaking to his half-brother, Mr. Tucker, ‘help me up; _I have come to hear that voice once more_.’ When Mr. Clay concluded, he approached, and shook Mr. Randolph cordially by the hand, and thus terminated their intercourse forever.