and brighter things which followed the gloomy Calvinistic period. Several years before I began to observe things Reverend Lyman Beecher had been preaching violently against Unitarianism, but about Boston that gentler faith had permitted the young people to dance and to enjoy life. Therefore I cannot say that I suffered from any Puritan narrowness, although I heard the echoes of it. The Puritan virtues of economy, plain living, and high thinking were everywhere; yet there were balls and dinners and drives and picnics, and robust pleasure at Thanksgiving and at Christmas. Tinctured by the memories of youth, it seems to me to have been a happy and healthful resting-place between the religious gloom which had preceded it and the dreadful sorrows of the war of secession which followed. In those early days the dress of New England girls was simple and inexpensive, often white in summer and dark merino in winter, and perhaps one silk dress for great occasions. But there was one dress which was always handsome, and that was the wedding-dress. Perhaps for that reason, or a better one, I wrote the following letter to a friend:
"Dear L., — I am to be married to-morrow, and have just been rehearsing the ceremony in the front parlor in my wedding-dress. It is a beauty, made with a low waist, pointed before and in the back, where it is laced; a deep Brussels lace berthe trims the neck. The sleeves are short and tight, the skirt very full and plaited into a belt. It is made of white moire antique, so stiff it would stand alone. I have a wreath of orange blossoms, with long, flowing garlands at the back, and a white tulle veil, cut like a cloak, with a point of lace à la Marie Stuart coming down to the forehead. This is very becoming. White satin slippers and white gloves. My two bridesmaids have deep-pink flounced grenadine dresses over pink silk, with garlands of pink acacias, which make Annie look like a dream. Mr. Sherwood has a deep-mulberry dress-coat with steel buttons, and a white silk vest; it
