A SYNE QUA NON.—IF any of my readers were ever
fortunate enough to hear Mr. Clay tell the following story, they can never forget the inimitable grace and humour with which it was done. " While I was abroad, labour- ing to arrange the terms of the Treaty of Ghent, there appeared a report of the negotiations or letters relative thereto, and several quotations from my remarks or letters, touching certain stipulations in the Treaty, reached Ken- tucky, and were read by my constituents. Among them, was an old fellow who-went by the nickname of Old Sand.usky.' He was reading one of these letters one evening, at a near resort, to a small collection of the neigh- bours. As he read on, he came across the sentence, `This must be deemed a sine qui non.' What's a sine qua non ? ' said a half-dozen bystanders. Old Sandusky' was a little bothered at first, but his good sense and natural shrewdness was fully equal to a mastery of the Latin. Sine—qua—non ? ' ra aid Old Sandusky,' repeating the question very slowly ; why, sine qua non is three islands in Passamaquoddy Bay, and Harry Clay is the last man to give them up ! No eine qua non, no treaty, he says ; and he'll stick to it ! " You should have seen the laughing eye, the change in the speaker's voice and manner, to understand the electric effect the story had upon his hearers.—Tan Years of Preacher-Life.
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