From her earliest acquaintance with society, she had seen with sorrow the levity of manners, the indifference to religion, and the total disregard of the Sabbath, which prevailed in its higher circles. Not content with holding herself uncontaminated, she felt it to be her duty to make an effort for a reformation, and with this end she published "Thoughts on the Importance of the Manners of the Great to General Society." To appreciate the value of the effort, we must remember that these "Thoughts" were not the animadversions of a recluse, but of one who was flattered, admired, and courted, by the very people whom she was about to reprove; that the step might probably exclude her from those circles in which she had hitherto been so caressed. But the happiness of her friends was dearer to her than their favor. That the probable consequences did not ensue, does not diminish her merit. This work and the one which speedily followed it, "An Essay on the Religion of the Fashionable World," were popular beyond hope, and the wish of Bishop Porteus, "that it might be placed in the hands of every person of condition," was almost realized. It is unnecessary to dwell on these works; they are too well known; they established her reputation as a great moral writer, possessing a masterly command of language, and devoting a keen wit and a lively fancy to the best and noblest of purposes.--After giving one extract from the most vigorous of her poems, "Slavery," written to aid the efforts which Clarkson and Wilberforce were making in behalf of the African slave, and in which she heartily sympathized, we will pass on to new scenes, in which Miss More's benevolent spirit exhibits itself in a yet more active manner. "O thou sad spirit, whose preposterous yoke The great deliverer, death, at length has broke! Released from misery, and escaped from care, Go, meet that mercy man denies thee here. And if some notions, vague and undefined, Of future terrors, have assailed thy mind; If such thy masters have presumed to teach-- As terrors only they are prone to preach; For, should they paint eternal mercy's reign, Where were the oppressor's rod, the captive's chain?-- If, then, thy troubled soul has learned to dread The dark unknown thy trembling footsteps tread, On Him who made thee what thou art depend; He who withholds the means accepts the end. Thy mental night thy Savior will not blame; He died for those who never heard his name. Nor thine the reckoning dire of light abused, Knowledge disgraced, and liberty misused: On thee no awful judge incensed shall sit, For parts perverted or dishonored wit. When ignorance will be found the safest plea, How many learned and wise shall envy thee!"