all the money which has ever been expended for a navy. Since that day, the navy has had no stain upon its national escutcheon, but has been cherished as your pride and glory; and the American sailor has established a reputation throughout the world, in peace and in war, in storm and in battle, for a heroism and prowess unsurpassed.

The great climax of Cicero in his speech against Verres is, that, though a Roman citizen, his client had been scourged. Will this more than Roman Senate long debate whether an American citizen, sailor though he be, shall be robbed of his rights? whether, freeman as he is, he shall be scourged like a slave?

Shall an American citizen be scourged? Forbid it, Heaven! Humanity forbid it! For myself, I would rather see the navy abolished, and the stars and the stripes buried, with their glory, in the depths of the ocean, than that those who won for it all its renown should be subjected to a punishment so brutal, to an ignominy so undeservd.

COMMODORE STOCKTON.

A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT, AN' A' THAT.

Is there, for honest poverty,

That hangs his head, an' a' that?
The coward slave we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,

Our toil's obscure, an' a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin gray, an' a' that;

Gi'e fools their silks, an' knaves their wine,
A man's a man for a' that;

For a' that, an' a' that, Their tinsel show, an' a' that;

The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,

Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that; Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that:

For a' that, an' a' that; His riband, star, an' a' that; The man of independent mind, He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak' a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an' a' that;
But an honest man 's aboon his might,
Gude faith he mauna fa' that.

For a' that, an' a' that,

Their dignities, an' a' that;

The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth,
Are higher ranks than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a' that,

That sense an' worth, o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree, an' a' that.

For a' that, an' a' that,

It's coming yet, for a' that,

That man to man, the warld o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that.

BURNS.

THE TRUE USE OF WEALTH.

THERE is a saying, which is in all good men's mouths, namely, that they are stewards or ministers of whatever talents are entrusted to them. Only, is it not a strange thing that while we more or less accept the meaning of that saying, so long as it is considered metaphorical, we never accept its meaning in its own terms? You know the lesson is given us under the form of a story about money. Money was given to the servants to make use of: the unprofitable servant dug in the earth, and hid his Lord's money. Well, we in our poetical and spiritual application of this, say that of course money doesn't mean money it means wit, it means intellect, it means influence in high quarters, it means everything in the world except itself.

And do you not see what a pretty and pleasant comeoff there is for most of us in this spiritual application? Of course, if we had wit, we would use it for the good of our fellow-creatures; but we haven't wit. Of course, if we had influence with the bishops, we would use it for the good of the church; but we haven't any influence with the bishops. Of course, if we had political power, we would use it for the good of the nation; but we have no political power; we have no talents entrusted to us of any sort or kind. It is true we have a little money, but the parable can't possibly mean anything so vulgar as money; our money's our own.

I believe, if you think seriously of this matter, you will feel that the first and most literal application is just as necessary a one as any other that the story does very specially mean what it says plain money; and that the reason we don't at once believe it does so, is a sort of tacit idea that while thought, wit, and intellect, and all power of birth and position, are indeed given to us, and, therefore, to be laid out for the Giver, our wealth has not been given to us; but we have worked for it, and have a right to spend it as

we choose. I think you will find that is the real substance of our understanding in this matter. Beauty, we say, is given by God — it is a talent; strength is given by God - it is a talent; but money is proper wages for our day's work is not a talent, it is a due. We may justly spend it on ourselves, if we have worked for it.

it

And there would be some shadow of excuse for this, were it not that the very power of making the money is itself only one of the applications of that intellect or strength which we confess to be talents. Why is one man richer than another? Because he is more industrious, more persevering, and more sagacious. Well, who made him more persevering and more sagacious than others? That power of endurance, that quickness of apprehension, that calmness of judgment, which enable him to seize opportunities that others lose, and persist in the lines of conduct in which others fail — are these not talents?—are they not, in the present state of the world, among the most distinguished and influential of mental gifts?

And is it not wonderful, that while we should be utterly ashamed to use a superiority of body in order to thrust our weaker companions aside from some place of advantage, we unhesitatingly use our superiorities of mind to thrust them back from whatever good that strength of mind can attain? You would be indignant if you saw a strong man walk into a theatre or a lecture-room, and, calmly choosing the best place, take his feeble neighbor by the shoulder, and turn him out of it into the back seats or the street. You would be equally indignant if you saw a stout fellow thrust himself up to a table where some hungry children are being fed, and reach his arm over their heads and take their bread from them.

But you are not the least indignant if when a man has stoutness of thought and swiftness of capacity, and, instead of being long-armed only, has the much greater gift of being long-headed — you think it perfectly just that he should use his intellect to take the bread out of the mouths

of all the other men in the town who are in the same trade with him; or use his breadth and sweep of sight to gather some branch of the commerce of the country into one great cobweb, of which he is himself the central spider, making every thread vibrate with the points of his claws, and commanding every avenue with the facets of his eyes. You see no injustice in this.

But there is injustice; and, let us trust, one of which honorable men will, at no very distant period, disdain to be guilty. In some degree, however, it is indeed not unjust; in some degree it is necessary and intended. It is assuredly just that idleness should be surpassed by energy; that the widest influence should be possessed by those who are best able to wield it; and that a wise man, at the end of his career, should be better off than a fool. But for that reason, is the fool to be wretched, utterly crushed down, and left in all the suffering which his conduct and capacity naturally inflict? Not so:

They were

That is the

What do you suppose fools were made for? That you might tread upon them, and starve them, and get the better of them in every possible way? By no means. made that wise people might take care of them. true and plain fact concerning the relations of every strong and wise man to the world about him. He has his strength given him, not that he may crush the weak, but that he may support and guide them. In his own household he is to be the guide and support of his children; out of his household he is still to be the father, that is, the guide and support, of the weak and the poor; not merely of the meritoriously weak and the innocently poor, but of the guiltily and punishably poor; of the men who ought to have known betterof the poor who ought to be ashamed of themselves.

It is nothing to give pension and cottage to the widow who has lost her son; it is nothing to give food and medicine to the workman who has broken his arm, or the decrepit woman wasting in sickness. But it is something to use your time and strength in war with the waywardness