given as all her portion, and she found it a sure anchor. Herself
securely anchored, her relations with others were established with
equal security. She was fortunate in a total absence of those charms
which might have drawn to her bewildering flatteries, and in a strong
electric nature, which repelled those who did not belong to her, and
attracted those who did. With men and women her relations were
noble,--affectionate without passion, intellectual without coldness.
The world was free to her, and she lived freely in it. Outward
adversity came, and inward conflict; but that faith and self-respect
had early been awakened which must always lead, at last, to an outward
serenity and an inward peace.

Of Miranda I had always thought as an example, that the restraints
upon the sex were insuperable only to those who think them so, or who
noisily strive to break them. She had taken a course of her own, and
no man stood in her way. Many of her acts had been unusual, but
excited no uproar. Few helped, but none checked her; and the many men
who knew her mind and her life, showed to her confidence as to a
brother, gentleness as to a sister. And not only refined, but very
coarse men approved and aided one in whom they saw resolution and
clearness of design. Her mind was often the leading one, always
effective.

When I talked with her upon these matters, and had said very much what
I have written, she smilingly replied; "And yet we must admit that I
have been fortunate, and this should not be. My good father's early
trust gave the first bias, and the rest followed, of course. It is
true that I have had less outward aid, in after years, than most
women; but that is of little consequence. Religion was early awakened
in my soul,--a sense that what the soul is capable to ask it must