viour, and his apostles, were kind to beggars; that they spoke comfortably to them, healed their diseases, and restored eyes and limbs to the lame and blind. That Peter said to the beggar that wanted an alms for him, Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk. Miranda, therefore, never treats beggars with disregard and aversion, but she imitates the kindness of our Saviour and his apostles towards them; and though she cannot, like them, work miracles for their relief, yet she relieves them with that power that she hath; and may say with the apostle, Such as I have give I thee, in the name of Jesus Christ.

It may be, says Miranda, that I may often give to those who do not deserve it, or who will make an ill use of my alms. But what then? Is not this the very method of divine goodness? Does not God make his sun to rise on the evil, and on the good? Is not this the very goodness that is recommended to us in Scripture, that by imitating of it, we may be children of our Father who is in heaven, who sendeth rain on the just, and on the unjust? And shall I withhold a little money or food, from my fellow-creature, for fear he should not be good enough to receive it of me? Do I beg of God to deal with me, not according to my merit, but according to his own great goodness; and shall I be so absurd, as to withhold my charity from a poor brother, because he may perhaps not deserve it? Shall I use a measure towards him, which I pray God never to use towards me?

Besides, where has the Scriptures made merit the rule or measure of charity? On the contrary, the Scriptures say, If thy enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink.

Now this plainly teaches us, that the merits of persons is to be no rule of our charity, but that we are to do acts of kindness to those that least of all deserve it. For if I am to love and to do good to my worst enemies; if I am to be charitable to them, notwithstanding all their spite and malice, surely merit is no measure of charity. If I am not to withhold my charity from such bad people, and who are at the same time enemies, surely I am

not to deny alms to poor beggars, whom I neither know to be bad people, nor any way my enemies.

You will perhaps say, that by this means I encourage people to be beggars. But the same thoughtless objection may be made against all kinds of charities, for they may encourage people to depend upon them. The same may be said against forgiving our enemies, for it may encourage people to do us hurt. The same may be said even against the goodness of God, that by pouring his blessing on the evil and on the good, on the just, and on the unjust, evil and unjust men are encouraged in their wicked ways. The same may be said against clothing the naked, or giving medicines to the sick, for that may encourage people to neglect themselves, and be careless of their health. But when the love of God dwelleth in you; when it has enlarged your heart, and filled you with bowels of mercy and compassion, you will make no more such objections as these.

When you are at any time turning away the poor, the -old, the sick and helpless traveller, the lame or the blind, ask yourself this question; Do I sincerely wish these poor creatures may be as happy as Lazarus, who was carried by angels into Abraham's bosom? Do I sincerely desire that God would make them fellow-heirs with me in eternal glory? Now if you search into your soul, you will find that there is none of these motions there, that you are wishing nothing of this. For it is impossible for any one heartily to wish a poor creature so great a happiness, and yet not have a heart so give him a small alms. For this reason, says Miranda, as far as I can, I give to all, because I pray to God to forgive all; and I cannot refuse an alms to those, whom I pray God to bless, whom I wish to be partakers of eternal glory; but am glad to shew some degree of love to such, as I hope, will be the objects of the infinite love of God. And if, as our Saviour has assured us, it be more blessed to give than to receive, we ought to look upon those that ask our alms, as so many friends and benefactors, that come to do us a greater good than they can receive, that come to exalt our virtue, to be witnesses of our charity, to be monuments of our love, to be our advocates with God, to bę to us in Christ's stead, to appear for us at the day of

judgment, and to help us to a blessedness greater than our alms can bestow on them.

This is the spirit, and this is the life of the devout Miranda; and if she lives ten years longer, she will have spent sixty thousand pounds in charity, for that which she allows herself, may fairly be reckoned amongst her alms. When she dies, she must shine amongst apostles, and saints, and martyrs, she must stand amongst the first servants of God, and be glorious amongst those that have fought the good fight, and finished their course with joy.

CHAP. IX.

Containing some reflections on the life of Miranda, and shewing how it may and ought to be imitated by all her sex.

NOW this life of Miranda, which I heartily recommend to the imitation of her sex, however contrary it may seem to the way and fashion of the world, is yet suitable to the true spirit, and founded upon the plainest doctrines of Christianity.

To live as she does, is as truly suitable to the Gospel of Christ, as to be baptized or receive the sacrament.

Her spirit is that which animated the saints of former ages; and it is because they lived as she does, that we now celebrate their memories, and praise God for their examples.

There is nothing that is whimsical, trifling, or unreasonable in her character; but every thing there described, is a right and proper instance of a solid and real piety.

It is as easy to shew, that it is whimsical to go to church, or to say one's prayers, as that it is whimsical to observe any of these rules of life. For all Miranda's rules of living unto God, of spending her time and fortune, of eating, working, dressing and conversing, are as substantial parts of a reasonable and holy life, as de votion and prayer.

For there is nothing to be said for the wisdom of sobriety, the wisdom of devotion, the wisdom of charity, or the wisdom of humility, but what is as good an argument for the wise and reasonable use of apparel.

Neither can any thing be said against the folly of luxury, the folly of sensuality, the folly of extravagance, the folly of prodigality, the folly of ambition, of idleness, or indulgence, but what must be said against the folly of dress. For religion is as deeply concerned in the one as in the other.

If you may be vain in one thing, you may be vain in every thing; for one kind of vanity only differs from another, as one kind of intemperance differs from another.

If you spend your fortune in the needless, vain finery of dress, you cannot condemn prodigality, or extravagance, or luxury, without condemning yourself.

If you fancy that it is your only folly, and that therefore there can be no great matter in it; you are like those that think they are only guilty of the folly of covetousness, or the folly of ambition. Now though some people may live so plausible a life, as to appear chargeable with no other fault, than that of covetousness or ambition; yet the case is not as it appears, for covetousness or ambition cannot subsist in a heart that is in other respects rightly devoted to God.

In like manner, though some people may spend most that they have in needless expensive ornaments of dress, and yet seem to be in every other respect truly pious, yet it is certainly false; for it is as impossible for a mind that is in a true state of religion, to be vain in the use of clothes, as to be vain in the use of alms, or devotionsNow to convince you of this from your own reflections, let us suppose that some eminent saint, as for instance, that the holy Virgin Mary was sent into the world, to be again in a state of trial for a few years, and that you were going to her, to be edified by her great piety; would you expect to find her dressed out and adorned in fine and expensive clothes? No: you would know in your own mind, that it was as impossible, as to find her learning to dance. Do but add saint, or holy, to any person, either man or woman, and your own mind tells you im inediately, that such a character cannot admit of the van

ity of fine apparel. A saint genteelly dressed, is as great nonsense, as an apostle in an embroidered suit; every one's own natural sense convinces him of the inconsistency of these things.

Now what is the reason, that when you think of a saint or eminent servant of God, you cannot admit of the vanity of apparel? Is it not because it is inconsistent with such a right state of heart, such true and exalted piety? And is not this therefore a demonstration, that where such vanity is admitted, there a right state of heart, true and exalted piety must needs be wanted? For as certainly as the holy Virgin Mary could not indulge herself, or conform to the vanity of the world in dress and figure; so certain is it, that none can indulge themselves in this vanity, but those who want her piety of heart; and consequently it must be owned, that all needless and expensive finery of dress, is the effect of a disordered heart, that is not governed by the true spirit of religion.

Covetousness is not a crime, because there is any harm in gold or silver, but because it supposes a foolish and unreasonable state of mind, that is fallen from its true good and sunk into such a poor and wretched satisfaction.

In like manner, the expensive finery of dress, is not a crime, because there is any thing good or evil in clothes, but because the expensive ornaments of clothing shews a foolish and unreasonable state of heart, that is fallen from right notions of human nature, that abuses the end of clothing, and turns the necessities of life into so many instances of pride and folly.

All the world agree in condemning remarkable fops. Now what is the reason of it? Is it because there is any thing sinful in their particular dress, or affected manners? No: but it is because all people know, that it shews the state of a man's mind, and that it is impossible for so ridiculous an outside to have any thing wise or reasonable, or good within. And indeed to suppose a fop of great piety, is as much nonsense, as to suppose a coward of great courage. So that all the world agree in owning, that the use and manner of clotnes is a mark of the state of a man's mind, and consequently that it is a thing highly essential to religion. But then it should be