rge the whole of them, and sell
her beautiful place; and when she finally left her home, these servants
openly insulted her. She removed to a house in Clifton, where she had
equal comfort and fewer cares. In this house she spent the remaining
four years of her useful life, dispensing charities, and entertaining
the numerous friends who visited her, and the crowd who came to do her
honor. She died in September, 1833, at the age of eighty-eight,
retaining her intellectual faculties, like Madame de Maintenon, nearly
to the last. She was buried with great honors. A beautiful monument was
erected to her memory in the parish church where her mortal remains were
laid,--the subscription to this monument being five times greater than
the sum needed.

Hannah More was strongly attached to the Church of England, and upheld
the authority of the established religious institutions of the country.
She excited some hostility from the liberality of her views, for she
would occasionally frequent the chapels of the Dissenters and partake of
their communion. She was supposed by many to lean towards Methodism,--as
everybody was accused of doing in the last century, in England, who led
a strictly religious life. She was evangelical in her views, but was not
Calvinistic; nor was she a believer in instantaneous conversions, any
more than she was in baptismal regeneration. She contributed liberally
to religious and philanthropic societies. The best book, she thought,
that was ever published was Jeremy Taylor's "Holy Living and Dying;" but
her opinion was that John Howe was a greater man. She was a great
admirer of Shakspeare, whom she placed on the highest pedestal of human
genius. She also admired Sir Walter Scott's poetry, especially
"Marmion." She admitted the genius of Byron, but had such detestation of
his character that she would not read his poetry.

The best and greatest part of the life of Hannah More was devoted to the
education and elevation of her sex. Her most valuable writings were
educational and moral. Her popularity did not wane with advancing years.
No literary woman ever had warmer friends; and these she retained. She
never lost a friend except by death. She had to lament over no broken
friendships, since her friendships were based on respect and affection.
Her nature must have been very genial. For so strict a woman in her
religious duties, she was very tolerant of human infirmities. She was
faithful in reproof, but having o