We are Americans because we were born in America. We speak English because our great-grandfathers, two hundred years ago, were English people. They came across the sea to this country, when it was covered with woods, and built houses, and made it their home. They taught their children and their children's children to speak English as well as they, and it is for this reason that we speak the English language, although we live in America.

But there were other Americans, a long time before our forefathers came here, who lived in the woods, and got their living by hunting and fishing. These Americans we call Indians. There are but few of them now left among us, but in some parts of America, they are the only inhabitants.

Edward. Did the Indians ever live in the towns where we live?

Father. Before the English people came here to live, there were no towns, but the whole country was covered with woods, and the only people were Indians.

Charles. Have all the houses been built, and the fields cleared, and the roads made, since that time?

Father. Certainly; the Indians were too indolent to build any houses, except miserable huts, and to plant fields and gardens.-They only planted a little corn in the meadows, and in the midst of the trees that had been killed by fire.

Charles. But that was a great while ago, was it not, father?

Father. Yes, it would seem a great while to such a boy as you. But when you learn a great deal more than you know at present, and read the history of other parts of the world, and become acquainted with what was done two thousand years ago, it will

seem to you but a short time since the white people first came to America. It was twice as long ago as the oldest people can remember, but not so long ago as a great many things which you can learn from books.

Edward. How long ago was it that the Indians first came to America?

Father. That is what nobody knows, because they were too ignorant to write any books, and there is nobody old enough to remember when it was.

Charles. I should not think they could find ships enough to bring so many white people to America.

Father. You are right. When they first came, they were but a few thousand people, and they came at different times. They have been industrious and frugal, and this has made them generally healthy and longlived, and many more have been born every year than died in the same time, so that they have increased in number very fast. You are too young to know much about these things at present, but, as you grow older, if you are good boys, and read and study a great deal, you will know all about them when you grow up. You will soon be old enough to study geography, and when you have learned that thoroughly, you will be able to read and understand history.

PREJUDICE.

"WITH England no land can compare,
For every thing, fine, sweet and rare,
So grand, and so rich, and so fair,
Old England, O nothing like thee!

The Frenchmen, they say, feed on frogs,
The Germans are stupid as dogs,
The Dutchmen are clumsy as hogs;
Hail England! Old England for me!
We'll beat them-the cowardly slaves!
For nobly a Briton behaves,

He rules both the land and the waves,
O, none but bold Britons are free!"
Thus Edward sang, as round the spacious hall,
He whipped his top-A map adorned the wall,
On which his father looked, yet list'ning stood,
Then called the boy, but in no angry mood.
He lifts him to the
"Look here;
map, and says,
Tell me those countries on each hemisphere :"
"Here's Europe, father, 'twixt this sea and this;
How wonderfully large all Europe is!
Yet Asia's larger, to the right it stands;
I scarce can cover it with both my hands.
Then there's America, take South and North,
What sums of money all this land is worth?
Those heaps of islands in the sea beside,
And Africa! how vast! how long! how wide!"

"But Edward," cries the father, with a smile, "You have not shown me England, all the while; Edward, my boy, look sharp, use well your eyes; Under your little finger England lies."

Says Ned," Ay, this is it; but, dear, how very small; I was afraid it was not here at all."

Ned listens, and his father thus replies;

[wise,

"God formed all things, you know-he's good and
And can you think so large a world he'd make,
Sun, moon, and stars, for little England's sake?
Think of the people by the map or chart,
We do not make their hundred thousandth part.
If we're the only grain, they chaff and bran,

God's work was ill bestowed in making man;
Do for your own, what in your power lies,
But other countries hate not, nor despise."
Cries Ned, "I'll love all good men that I see,
And where they're born is all alike to me."

THE OLD CLOAK.

"Your cloak an old one seems to be"
"Why, sir, 'tis good enough for me."

My cloak is old and quite thread-bare
Yet, on my shoulders, thus it goes;
"Twill shield me from the frosty air
And also from the driving snows.
And thread-bare though, and old it be,
I think 'tis good enough for me.

?

The boys at school will laugh, you say
Well, they may laugh then, and who cares?

I learn as fast though, any day,

In my clothes, as they do in theirs,
And so, for aught that I can see,
This cloak is good enough for me.

But many a boy, sir, I have known,
And heard beside of many more,
Who good kind friends and home had none;
And ragged were the clothes they wore ;

And when I think of them, I see

This cloak is good enough for me.

My Father labours, every day,

To get us food and things to wear,
And shall I ask for clothing gay
And so redouble all his care?

Of little use, sir, I can be,

This cloak is good enough for me.

Mother for us, at evening, sews
Until the lamp is quite burnt out,
And, please you, sir, she keeps our clothes,
As whole as any boys about.
Sure, when so kind my Parents be,
This cloak is good enough for me.

Besides, they say they do not seek
For us this world's gay gear,
But" ornament of spirit meek,"
They pray that we may wear.
Oh, sir, when such their lessons be,
This cloak seems good enough for me.

THE PRAISES OF A LONG AND HEAVY PURSE.

I HOPE to meet with the countenance and encouragement of this assembly, while I attempt a theme of which, I trust, all will confess the utility. I would speak the praises of a long and heavy purse-well stuffed with substantial coin. While orations are made on all other subjects of all kinds, it seems quite improper that this should be neglected. The present scarcity of cash, must give peculiar force to the arguments with which this theme abounds; it is generally the scarcity of any thing valuable, which effectually teaches us to esteem it. Who then can be more sensible than we are of the value of that ready assistant in all manner of business? Some have lasserted that it is in the power of money to do any thing; that it can change vice into imaginary virtue,