MRS. 1i0FLAND. * Assam:Ton the reputation of Mrs. Hofland is rather

traditional than pre-- Bent, and as new fashions succeed in juvenile literature it may drop still more out of the public mind, yet as the head of a class Barbara Hofland is better entitled to a niche in literary history than some writers of a more gully character and fame. With Maria Edgeworth and perhaps Mrs. Opie, ibe as much founded the didactic style of fiction as Mrs. Radcliffe did the mysterious school of romance, Scott the historical, or Miss Austen the purely natural novel. In point of variety-, breadth, and originality, the paint must be ceded to Miss Edgeworth, for her Irish characters and Irish life opened up a new field : but we question whether in the conduct of her story she was equal to Mrs. Hofland, or whether the moral was so truly deducible from the premises. Either from nature or the habitual training of the day, Miss Edgeworth was too rapid in her changes and denouements ; sacrificing the consistency of her story to her own notions, with the suddenness of an old comedy, where the flirts and rakes are all reformed in the fifth act. Both gave a true picture of life and character in its respectable and family phase, but we think there was more feeling and flexibility in Mrs. Hofland.

She is also remarkable for the freshness of mind which she maintained to old age. Born in 1770, Barbara Wreaks properly belonged to the eighteenth century; yet there was little of the last age in Mrs. Hofland's more elaborate novels, save a boarding-school sense of the proper ; in her personal manners and in her juvenile books she belonged to the present time, or was only distinguished from it by greater finish. When turned of seventy, she made an excursion to France, with eyes as observing and good-nature as tolerant as others exhibit in their youth : and its result, the trifle called Emily's Reward, though published in her seventy-third year, had all the vivacity of woman's prime. A fluent pen and the res angastee rendered her a voluminous writer. Her published works are sixty in number, and though many are brief, others extend to four volumes.

Her life was uneventful, but full of troubles and struggles. Her first husband, Mr. Hoole, was a wealthy merchant of her native town of Shef- field: he died two years after their marriage ; a little daughter followed him; and Mrs. Hoole was a widow at eight-and-twenty, with an infant son. The firm in which her husband was a partner soon after failed; a volume of poems, the amusement of her leisure hours, was the soe re- source of the widow. It was published by subscription ; and so suc- cessfully that she cleared several hundred pounds by it, with which she was enabled to open a school. To dismiss her first husband's family, it may be-mentioned here, that little Hoole's grandfather left him what would have amounted to a handsome fortune, but the trustee misappropriated the money and failed. Frederick Hoole grew up ; became a clergyman ; published Conversations on the Evidences of Christianity, and an- other book; struggled through his duty with bad health and a scanty in- come; and died in 1833, when curate of St. Andrew's Holborn. His mother bore the shock with Christian submission, though with maternal feeling.

When nearly forty, Barbara Hoole became Barbara Hofland; a match which turned out uncomfortable, not to say unfortunate. Mr. Hofland was a man of a bard and selfish character : by living continually in great houses on professional visits, he acquired those habits of indulgence which distinguish men of small means who fare sumptuously at other people's expense ; and he treated his wife with neglect, if not with harshness ; which she bore for five-and-thirty years uncomplainingly, somewhat after the fashion of patient Grizzle.

" She had a thorough appreciation of her husband's profession, and the highest estimate of his genius as a painter. Yet she did not at any time obtrude her opinion of his works. She has recorded it, however, in one instance, and it is worth repeating. • Of his pictures,' she observes in a communication to the Art Journal,' it does not become me to speak: they belong, perhaps, somewhat to a time that is past, but more, I trust, to a time that is to come; when the great, the gifted, and the good, may probably estimate the nature and truth of his colouring—the faithfulness of detail, that tone of simplicity devoid of pretension, yet not of poetry, which secures admirers among congenial minds, and enables them to gaze with cairn delight on the interesting pictures of Holland.' "The wife who could thus think and speak of her husband's works, deserved, assuredly, that husband's regard and affection, especially when with such an appreciation were combined the highest devotion and the rarest virtues. Yet, alas! all this was in a,great measure lost upon him to whom it was offered. ' Often' very often,' says one who know her well, in her sorrows as in her joys, 'have the wonder and pity of kind hearts been excited, when they beheld that amiable and admirable woman, endued with such great talents, with the most active and exemplary domestic habits, and the most pleasing and in- teresting powers of social conversation, disregarded, despised, and abused.' But this affected her not. She bore it all with the meekness and resignation of a Christian, not returning railing for railing, but contrariwise, blessing.' She was so proud of his talents,' Mrs. Hall has observed, so eager to praise his ex- cellence—so anxious, even while the flush of outraged feeling was burning on her cheek, to exhibit the bright side of his character to her must intimate friends— so prone to descant upon an artist's trials and an artist's vexations—so wishful to set herself aside, that his value only might appear in a strong light—so con- stantly bringing into active work the charity that beareth all things, endureth all things, hopcth all things'—that, to learn the most exalted duties of woman's life, is but to call to remembrance the practice of Barbara Hofland: The circumstances of her husband's life, his professional engagements, his tastes, his associations, one or other, and occasionally all of these, brought him much in contact with the great and the gay; and weeks, nay sometimes months together, has he spent amidst the blandishments of such society, without seeming to bestow a thought on his devoted wife at home. It was on his return from one of these long-indulged visits, that she addressed to him the following touching lines "'A HUSBAND'S WELCOME HOME.

" They tell me, love, that thou haat been

In lordly halls and festive bowers, Where pleasure danced in every mien, And time was crown'd with gayest flowers.

They tell me that the dance and song Employ'd thy hours' prolong'd thy stay;

That thou wen held by flattery's tongue, And bent to beauty's magic sway.

* The Llfb acrd Literary Remains of Barbara liodand, Author of "The Son of a Genius," "Decision," &c. &c. By Thomas Emmy, Author of " A Glance of Belgium oat the Rhine." Published by Cleaver.

Well! be it so—thon 'rt mine again ; And if thy heart did melt awhile 'Neath syran pleasure's dulcet strain, In witching beauty's sunny smile, More merit thine to burst these ties, To which the firmest mind may yield: He only wins fair virtue's prize Who conquers in a well-fought field. Now, dear, more welcome to these arms, The husband of my love, my pride— Thou bast but 'waked my fond alarms,

To make my heart more gratified. B. H."

"Love is blind "; but unless Holland had altered considerably from the days of his courtship, the youthful portraits his wife is said to have drawn of him in her fictions were rather the result of that peculiar blind- ness which sees double and colours everything with the hues of its own feelings. The best excuse for his conduct is to be found in his health. He died of cancer in the stomach ; and the latent and early stages of the disease no doubt induced an irritability of constitution which was attri- buted to temper.

Mrs. Holland's income through the greater part of her life was straitened, for Holland's pencil does not seem to have been very profit- able, and her pen was a means of living. They were also involved for many years through Ducal dishonesty. "It was about this time (1820) that, in conjunction with her husband, she en- gaged in an undertaking which entailed upon them, without any fault of their own, a burden of debt which oppressed them for very many after years. The obligation was at length fully and honourably discharged; but It was by the sacri- fice of the principal fruits of her literary labours. The late Duke of Marlborough had employed Mr. Holland to paint a series of pictures for a folio volume, which was to be entitled A Descriptive Account of White Knights, a favourite place of his in the neighbourhood of Blenheim. With these pictures the work was to be illustrated, and the literary descriptions were to be furnished by Mrs. Holland. Both the artist and his gifted partner fulfilled their engagements most faithfully; but in his, their noble patron utterly failed. The cost of their labours was never paid ; and this was but a trifling part of the injury inflicted upon them, for Mr. Hofland became responsible for the sums due fur the engraving and printing of the work, which amounted to many hundreds of pounds. This sum he was left to pay. A debt incurred for the mere gratification of individual pride, was thus dis- owned by one who, in succeeding to the possessions with which a grateful country had rewarded the bravery and magnanimity of his great ancestor, had certainly not inherited the noble qualities which made that princely domain the heritage of

his race. • • •

" Eventually, by the most strenuous and unceasing exertions, the whole sum was honourably paid: but if it had not been for the counsel, consolation, and assistance which Mrs. Holland was able to afford to her husband, it must have overwhelmed him."

Mr. Ramsay possessed the advantages of a personal acquaintance with Mrs. Holland, and a correspondence which extended over twenty years; he also appears to have had her papers placed at his disposal. The bio- graphy is hardly equal to what such opportunities might have led one to expect. There is nothing graphic or lifelike in the sketches, no trace of that individuality which personal observation generally imparts ; and though the book is by no means large, it is not quite free of stuffing. The correspondence and unpublished remains of Mrs. Hofland are pro- perly included, though some of the papers are slight ; but there was no occasion for printing matter that had appeared before. The volume will serve as a memorial of the authoress, but Barbara Hofland was worthy of a better biography. Although she began her career with poetry, and frequently attempted it, she did not excel as a poet. Her amiable disposition threw grace into her sentiments ; her taste and facility imparted propriety to her images and ease to her verse ; but she wanted the spirit and pinion of poesy. The following sonnet is a fair specimen of her muse, but we quote it as an example of elasticity of mind at seventy-four—she died in the follow- ing November. "A DAY OF WSAITOINTHENT. "Sullen and cold the lowering morn appears, Damping our promised bliss to meet today The gentle and the geed, the young and gay ; For all above, the clouds' dark livery wears, And Nature smiles as one that smiles through tears. Farewell, then, to our hopes ; but not farewell To the far better hopes, that days more bright Shall bid those young and generous bosoms swell Through many a coming year with pure delight. Oh! brilliant be their morn, and calm their night, And many a roseate hour their pleasures tell, Ere rolling Time presume such joy to blight; Yet Time shall only change the heart's employ, From gayety's bright smile, to heartfelt, sober joy. Richmond, April 12, 1844. B. H."