refore, the rulers had determined that those persons who had run into
the excess of immoderate veils and sleeves, embroidered caps, and gold
and silver lace, should be permitted to wear them out, but new ones
should be forfeited."

This sumptuary regulation announced, the meeting was dismissed.

Madame Winthrop whispered to Everell that she was going, with his
father, to look in upon a sick neighbor, and would thank him to see her
niece home. Everell stole a glance at Hope, and dutifully offered his
arm to Miss Downing.

Hope, intent only on one object, was hurrying out of the pew, intending,
in the jostling of the crowd, to escape alone; but she was arrested by
Madame Winthrop's saying, "Miss Leslie, Sir Philip offers you his arm;"
and at the same moment, her aunt stooped forward to beg her to wait a
moment, till she could send a message to Deacon Knowles' wife, that she
might wear her new gown with the Turkish sleeves, the next day.... "It
is but doing as a body would be done by, to let Mistress Knowles know
she may come out in her new gown to-morrow."

* * * * *

From "The Linwoods."

=_288._= KOSCIUSKO'S GARDEN AT WEST POINT.

The harmonies of Nature's orchestra were the only and the fitting sounds
in this seclusion; the early wooing of the birds; the water from the
fountains of the heights, that, filtering through the rocks, dropped
from ledge to ledge with the regularity of a water-clock; the ripple of
the waves, as they broke upon the rocky points of the shore, or softly
kissed its pebbly margin; and the voice of the tiny stream, that,
gliding down a dark, deep, and almost hidden channel in the rocks,
disappeared and welled up again in the center of the turfy slope, stole
over it, and trickled down the lower ledge of granite to the river.
Tradition has named this little, green shelf on the rocks, "Kosciusko's
Garden;" but, as no traces have been discovered of any other than
Nature's plantings, it was probably merely his favorite retreat, and, as
such, is a monument of his taste and love of nature.

* * * * *

=_John Neal, 1793-._= (Manual, p. 510.)

From "Randolph."

=_289._= THE NATURE OF TRUE POETRY.

Poetry is the naked expression of power and eloquence; but, for many
hundred years, poetry has been confounded with false music, measure,
and cadence, the soul with the body, the thought with the language, the
manner of speaking with th