But on the sacred, solemn day,

And, dearest, on thy bended knee,

When thou for those thou lov'st dost pray,
Sweet spirit, then remember me.

On thee forever, ever dwell,
With anxious heart and drooping eye,

And doubts 'twould grieve thee should I tell! But in thy calm, unclouded heart,

Which dark and gloomy visions flee,

O, there, my sister, be my part,

And kindly there remember me.

A TOKEN.

So take my gift! 'Tis a simple flower;
But perhaps 'twill wile a weary hour;
And the spirit that its light magic weaves
May touch your heart from its simple leaves;
And if these should fail, it at least will be
A token of love from me to thee.

ECONOMY AND HER DAUGHTER.

In a pleasant but plainly furnished apartment sat Economy and her daughter. The daughter had just handed her mother a bundle of cloth, when they were interrupted by the ringing of the door bell. Economy laid by the package, and hastened to open the door.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thrifty," said she; "walk in. My daughter Benevolence, Mrs. Thrifty," added she, introducing them.

"What, Benevolence the daughter of Economy!" thought Mrs. Thrifty; but she concealed her surprise at the information, and remarked, "You have been making quite a recluse of your daughter since you came to Boston, have you not? I was not aware of her being with you."

"True," replied Economy, "she has not, as yet, visited much in this place; she is rather diffident, and prefers that I should become acquainted with the people before she is introduced to them. often remarks that she is most cordially received by those who are the friends of her mother."

She

"If that is the case, she may rest assured of receiving a cordial welcome, if she will honor me

with a call," said Mrs. Thrifty; "but," she added, "I fear you will find me rather a troublesome friend, for I have called again to consult you on some domestic affairs."

"I shall be most happy to assist you," replied Economy; "you know counselling is a part of my occupation."

Mrs. Thrifty then proceeded to inform her that she was about furnishing another parlor, and that Lady Extravagance had told her that Brussels carpets were the only ones fit for use, and that a centre table, and an astral lamp, and a piano were absolutely indispensable. "When I told her," added Mrs. Thrifty, "that I had no daughters to use the piano, she remarked that she did not suppose I furnished the parlor for myself, and that my visitors would think me destitute of musical taste if I did not keep at least one musical instrument. All this would do very well," continued Mrs. Thrifty, "if my means would warrant the expense. To be sure I have laid by a large sum, which Lady Extravagance said I might devote to that purpose; but THAT I was intending to give an orphan niece of mine, who is very destitute."

"O, clothe the orphan !" said Benevolence, "and let the parlor wear a less splendid dress. Her gratitude will be sweeter to you than the sweetest music ever drawn from the keys of a piano."

"An approving conscience," said Economy, "is preferable to all the eulogies of Fashion; besides, I

maintain that a company of guests can be very agreeably entertained without the aid of instrumental music."

Mrs. Thrifty concluded that the needless furniture should be dispensed with, and the orphan provided for. After Mrs. Thrifty's departure, Benevolence again brought forward the bundle which her mother had laid down, and placed it upon the table, saying, "Soon after you went out, this morning, a poor woman came in, who appeared to be very feeble and much emaciated with suffering. She informed me that you had often assisted her; but that, notwithstanding all your kindness, she and her children were still suffering from want of clothing suitable for the season. I thought this was a favorable time for me to act; so I told her, as she arose to depart, that we should plan some means to alleviate her wants. I then went out and purchased this flannel, which I well knew you would assist me to make into garments for them.”

"You did perfectly right," answered her mother. "I presume the woman was Mrs. Needy, who lives in Theatre Alley. She has a number of children to support, and they have been much afflicted with sickness, so that with all her industry and prudence, they are still very poor. She is worthy of our pity, and we are well able to help her."

The flannel was placed upon the table, and while Economy judiciously arranged the patterns upon it, so that nothing might be lost, she recounted to her

daughter the results of the morning's walk. "I first," said she, "called upon Mrs. Housewife, who lives at the head of the street. She takes a great deal of pains to consult me; but I fear it is more for the NAME than any thing else, for I have frequently seen her tables loaded with rich puddings and cake, though she well knows Dr. Combe has pronounced them deleterious to health; and I have often assured her that the plainer kinds of food are equally agreeable when one becomes accustomed to them. And then she still persists in using tea and coffee, though she allows that they are very expensive, and not really necessary. In counting the cost, however, she does not begin to estimate the expense that they really occasion her. Yet she says, as cold water is getting to be fashionable, she supposes she shall be obliged to drink it, to keep up with the times. I next called upon Miss Dressy. Though it was nearly ten o'clock, she had but just arisen, and she was endeavoring to arouse her still sleepy ideas, in order to plan amusements for the day, when I entered. She tried to apologize for her negligent appearance, upon the plea that the ball of the preceding night had very much fatigued her. "And yet," added she, "I do not think balls VERY injurious, for I do not know but my health is as good as that of those who do not attend them."

Poor thing! She never once thought of the loss of time occasioned by keeping late hours, or the SIN of indulging in such frivolous pleasures. I gave