I am particularly gratified to get a letter from one in your country. I have read a great deal about Greece, and every body here feels the deepest interest in it. It is a land famous from the earliest ages; it has been the scene of many celebrated events, and some of the greatest men that have ever lived, were natives of your country. Although I am very old, my heart still beats at the very name of Greece. I should love to see your beautiful mountains, your celebrated rivers and your charming valleys. I should like to go to Athens and see the splendid ruins of buildings that were erected three thousand years ago. I should delight to sail along your fine coast, and visit the pleasant islands that lie scattered around it. I should love to roam over the whole country and visit the places that are alike interesting for their present beauty, and their former fame. I should like to see you, my little sailor friend, and with you go over the hills and the valleys. I should like to hear from you the story of your glorious country, and then I should like to have you come to America and I would tell you the story of mine. But these are idle wishes. I cannot leave Boston; but you are young and I hope soon to see you here. Be assured you will be. most welcome, and I shall esteem it a happy day when I see you. God bless you. PETER PARLEY. MONEY. What a useful thing is money! If there were no such thing as money, we should be much at a loss to get any thing we might want. The shoemaker, for instance, who might want bread, and meat, and beer, for his family, would have nothing to give in exchange but shoes. He must go to the baker, and offer him a pair of shoes for as much bread as they were worth: and he must do the same thing if he went to the butcher for meat, or to the brewer for beer. But the baker might happen not to want shoes just then, though he might want a hat. Then the shoemaker must find out some hatter who wanted shoes, and get a hat from him, and then exchange the hat with the baker for bread. All this would be very troublesome. But by the use of money this trouble is saved. Any one who has money may get for it just what he may chance to want. The baker is always willing to part with his bread for money; because he knows that he may exchange that for shoes, or for a hat, or for fireing, or any thing he is in want of. What time and trouble it must have cost men to exchange one thing for another before money was in use! We are cautioned in Scripture against the too great love of money. It is a foolish and wicked thing to set your heart on money, or on any thing in this present world. Some set their hearts on eating and drinking, and some on fine clothes. All these things are apt to draw off our thoughts from God. Therefore we are told to "lay up for ourselves treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt," and forbidden to be too careful and anxious "what we shall eat and what we shall drink, or how we shall be clothed," but to "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness." But we ought to be thankful for all the good things which Providence gives us, and to be careful to make a right use of them. The best use of wealth, and what gives most delight to a true Christian, is to relieve good people when they are in want. It is for this purpose that money is of the greatest use. For a poor man may chance to be in want of something which I may not have to spare. But if I give him money, he can get just what he wants for that: whether bread, or clothes, or coals, or books. When there was a great famine in Judæa, in the time of the Apostle Paul, the Greek Christians thought fit to relieve the poor saints (that is, Christians) that were in Judæa. But it would have been a great trouble to send them corn to such a distance; and besides, they themselves might not have had corn to spare. But they made a collection of money, which takes little room; and Paul carried it to Judæa; and with this money the poor people could buy corn wherever it was to be had. himself. And so it is with the tailor, the hatter, and all other trades. It is best for all, that each should work in his own way, and supply his neighbors, while they supply him. THE CASHEW-NUT. The cashew-nut bears a considerable resemblance to the walnut, and the leaves have nearly the same scent. The fleshy receptacle, vulgarly called apple, which the tree produces, is of an agreeable flavor, and may be fermented into a kind of wine, cr distilled into arrack. EXCHANGES. But why should not each man make what he wants for himself, without going to his neighbor's to buy it? Go into the shoemaker's shop, and ask him why he does not make tables and chairs for himself, and hats, and coats, and every thing he wants. He will tell you, that he must have a complete set of joiner's tools to make one chair properly; the same tools as would serve to make hundreds of chairs. And if he were also to make the tools himself, and the nails, he would want a smith's forge, and anvil, and hammer. And after The nut, of a kidney shape, is attached all, it would cost him great labor to make to the end of the apple; it is enclosed in very clumsy tools and chairs, because he two shells, between which there is a native has not been used to that kind of work. inflammable oil, which is so caustic that it It would be less trouble to him to make will blister the skin. The kernel is someshoes that would sell for as much as would times used to improve the flavor of chocobuy a dozen chairs, than to make one chair late. The milky juice of this nut will stain himself. To the joiner, again, it would be linen of a good black, which cannot be as great a loss to attempt making shoes for washed out. The cocoa-palm is supposed to be a native of the southeast of Asia, and is found wild in some of the small islands off the shores; but it has been introduced into almost every part of the tropical regions. There are five species, but the most valuable one is that, which bears the fruit represented in the picture. This tree is very tall, and the trunk is composed of hard and strong fibres, which cross each other like net-work. In a moist and fertile soil, the cocoa-palm bears in four years; in a dry region fruit is not produced till it has been planted ten years. The fruit consists externally of a thin but tough rind, of a brownish-red color; beneath which there is a quantity of very tough fibrous matter, of which cordage and coarse cloth are sometimes made. Inclosed within this fibrous mass is the shell, of great firmness, and used for many domestic purposes. While the nut is green, the whole hollow of the shell is filled with an agreeable, sweetish, refreshing liquor. When the nut is gathered, a formation takes place upon the inside of the shell, producing that white, firm, pleasant tasted, but rather indigestible, sub stance, which is called the kernel of the nut. Like the kernels of most nuts, that of the cocoa is very nutritious, from the great quantity of fixed oil that it contains; but that is also the ingredient to which its indigestible quality is owing. A tree generally furnishes about a hundred cocoas. A species of drink called arrack is made from the juice of the cocoanut tree. The juice before it is distilled is called toddy; and those trees from which it is to be obtained are not suffered to bear fruit. any sustenance. It is remarkable that she was not discovered and taken care of by the watch men. A LITTLE WANDERER. The New York Evening Post contains the following account of the loss of a child. A parent may guess the sensations of the father when he discovered his little daughter in Courtlandt Street. On Friday morning about 10 o'clock, a little girl about two years and a half old, wandered from the house of her father in the upper part of Mott street. The child's name was Catharine Kean; she had began to talk, and was able to tell her christian name and the name of the street in which she lived, but not her surname nor the number of her residence. The parents were almost distracted with the loss, and searched every part of the neighborhood without success. The search, in which they were humanely assisted by the neighbors, was continued all day; and during the night the father continued to walk the streets looking for his child, and several times applied to the watch-house in hopes of obtaining some information respecting her. The next morning he brought an advertisement of the loss to the office of the Evening Post. On going out he continued the search, and about eleven o'clock in the morning, as he was walking down Courtlandt street, near its intersection with Washington street, about a mile and a half by the shortest direction from his house, he discovered the child, to his extreme joy, walking on the pavement before him. She had probably wandered about the city the whole day and night after leaving her home, nor is it supposed that during that time she had taken SWALLOWS. We were going to say, that every body is acquainted with the swallow, but in fact, there are few who know, that there are four kinds of swallow, perfectly distinct in plumage and habits. There is the sand-martin, who excavates his nests in a sand-bank; the twittering blue-bodied swallow, who builds in our chimneys, the house martin, who nestles in the upper angle of a window, or under the jutting roof; and the long-winged, active swifts, known by their dark plumage, and their circling, in calm evenings, at a great height. They all live upon insects. The chimney swallow is a perfect pattern of maternal affection from morning to night, during the whole summer, she is continually skimming close to the ground, hunting for flies for her young brood. Bewich gives an amusing account of a swallow that had become quite attached to the children by whom he was reared. They used to go out to the fields together, the bird being permitted to fly wherever he wished; but he kept always circling above them wherever they went. When one of the children caught a fly, he called the swallow, with a whistle, when it immediately descended, and perched on the hand of the child, who had the fly prepared for him. Part 2, No. 2. THE BANIAN TREE. The banian-tree is a species of fig-tree, and deserves notice not only from its being a sacred tree with the Hindoos in the East Indies, but from the vast size, that it attains, and from the singularity of its growth. Each tree is in itself a grove; and some of them are of an amazing size, as they are continually increasing, and seem to be free from decay. Every branch from the main body of the tree throws out its own roots, at first in small tender fibres, several yards from the ground, which continually grow thicker, until, by a gradual descent, they reach the surface of the earth: here, striking in, they increase to a large trunk, and become a parent tree, throwing out new branches from the top. These, in time, suspend their roots, and receiving nourishment from the earth, swell into trunks, and shoot forth other branches. A banian-tree, with many trunks, forms the most beautiful walks, vistas, and cool |