Glass, Book. LIFE AN© LITERARY REMAINS BARBARA HOFLAND ' t'l .'ED BY E.FINDEN. £ * sto-^.-j ^-i^-t_^ ^-ef-t^n LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS BARBARA HOFLAND, AUTHOR OF the son of a genius; tales of the manor; tales of the priory; patience; integrity; decision; ETC. ETC. BY THOMAS RAMSAY, AUTHOR OF "A GLANCE OF BELGIUM AND THE RHINE" " Deeds which should not p?ss away, And names that must not wither." — Byron. LONDON: W. J. CLEAVER, 46 PICCADILLY. M.DCCC.XLIX. Will LONDON : RICHARDS, 100, ST. MARTINS LANK. DEDICATION TO THE LADY MILDRED HOPE. Madam, I am kindly permitted to dedicate this volume to you ; and, believe me, I do so with the liveliest satisfaction, being well assured of your Ladyship's warm appreciation of the virtues and talents of her whose Memoirs it contains, and whose last work for the instruction and amusement of the young was feelingly inscribed to your youthful daughter. This assurance is strengthened, too, by the pleasing recol- lection, that Mr. Hope has testified his respect for the memory of our authoress, in having been the largest subscriber to her monument at Richmond. The friends of Mrs. Holland may indeed feel proud to think, that the same munificent hand which has so piously restored VI DEDICATION. S. Augustine's at Canterbury, was the readiest and the most liberal in rearing that memorial at her parish church. It has been truly observed, that we look with plea- sure on those things which are congenial and kindred with our own conceptions ; and I feel a confidence in dedicating this volume to your Ladyship, arising from the conviction, that the benevolent heart and gifted mind of Mrs. Hofland cannot fail to be highly esti- mated by one, in whose great amiableness and many accomplishments we see happily exemplified so much which that excellent lady herself inculcated and prac- tised throughout the long and honourable life which the volume records. I have the honour to remain, Madam, Your Ladyship's faithful and obliged servant, Thomas Ramsay. PREFACE. A correspondence with the estimable lady who is the subject of this Memoir, which extended over a period of about twenty years, the enjoyment of her cordial friend- ship, an intimate acquaintance with her writings, and a warm appreciation of her character, have qualified me, perhaps, in some measure, for the task I have under- taken. But although it has been in many respects a labour of love, I was reluctant to venture upon its performance, lest I should fail in doing justice to one whose memory has such high claims upon our regard, as well from the large contributions she made to the literature of our country, — humble it might be in its rank, but in its influence Vlll ' PREFACE. most important, — as from her social and domestic virtues, and her intellectual accom- plishments. Mrs. Hofland had, at her decease, com- pleted the fortieth year of her authorship. She produced during that period upwards of sixty different works; many of which have been translated into nearly all the lan- guages of Europe. Of the English editions alone, it is estimated that upwards of three hundred thousand copies have been disposed of by the London publishers ; while in the United States of America the sale of re- prints is understood to have been propor- tionably large. The "Life and Literary Remains" of so popular a writer ought to possess a deep interest for that generation from which she has so lately departed, and on which she has shed some halo, and conferred much benefit. My only regret is, that it has not fallen into abler hands to discharge this duty. I did, however, offer the materials in my pos- PREFACE. IX session to one who was by her literary at- tainments, if not by her personal acquaint- ance with Mrs. Holland, much more capable than I could pretend to be, of performing this duty creditably and efficiently; but it was urged upon me in preference ; and, not- withstanding a due sense of my deficiencies, I could not, under all the circumstances, shrink from the undertaking. In carrying it out, I have confined myself, as much as possible, within the strictest limits of legitimate biography, though the letters and papers at my disposal would have enabled me to extend it considerably, had I been disposed to travel much out of the boundaries of Mrs. Hofland's literary life. That the subject of this Memoir was an extraordinary person — -that her numerous works have gained extensive popularity, have exercised a potent moral influence, and will, many of them at least, go down to a distant posterity — cannot, I think, be questioned; and it is natural to conclude from these considerations, that those whom she has PREFACE. already so much interested by her works, would be glad to know something of her character and life, and might be enter- tained, if not instructed, by such of her literary remains as have never yet been made public. " It were chimerical," says Swift, " to write for posterity, of whose taste we can- not make any judgment, and whose applause we can never enjoy." But this chimera, if it really be one, never influenced the mind of our authoress. Her motive was too pure, her object too elevated, for such an appre- hension to be conceived. It was the prin- ciple of moral goodness, rather than the gratification of ambition, which constantly inspired and actuated her literary efforts; and it is this which constitutes their charm, and was the secret of their success. The volume is, moreover, an humble tri- bute to the memory of one who deserves to be ranked among the worthies of her country. My best acknowledgments are due to Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall, and also to Mr. Alfred PREFACE. XI J. Roberts, of Hammersmith, for having placed at my disposal several documents, which have contributed materially to the interest of the volume ; and I must beg those kind friends to accept this public ex- pression of my warmest thanks. T. R. London, S, Peter's Day, 1849. The following is a list of Mrs. Holland's publica- tions, many of which have become standard works in the walk of literature to which they belong : Little Dramas for Young People, from English His- tory ; La Fete de la Eose ; A Season at Harrogate ; Clergyman's Widow ; Officer's "Widow ; Says she to her Neighbour, What ? 4 vols. ; The Sisters ; Northern Travellers; Patience and Perseverance, 4 vols.; Pa- norama of Europe ; Merchant's Widow ; Visit to Lon- don, or Emily and her Friends, 4 vols.; Ellen, the Teacher, 2 vols. ; A Father as he should be ; Barba- does Girl ; Blind Farmer and his Children ; Son of a Genius ; Good Grandmother and her Offspring ; Ab- bess of Valtiera, 4 vols. ; Tales of the Manor, 4 vols. ; Xll Tales of the Priory, 4 vols. ; Captives in India, 3 vols. ; The Czarina, 3 vols. ; King's Son, 3 vols. ; Hildebrand, 3 vols.; Alfred Campbell; Alfred, the Young Pilgrim; Decision ; Energy ; Farewell Tales ; Fortitude ; Hu- mility ; Integrity ; Moderation ; Patience ; Reflection ; Self-Denial ; Young Cadet ; Adelaide ; Affectionate Brothers ; Alicia and her Aunt ; Daughter-in-Law ; Elizabeth, and her Three Beggar-Boys ; Godmother's Tales; Rich Boys and Poor Boys; Stolen Boy, an Indian Tale ; William and his Uncle Ben ; Young Northern Traveller; Young Crusoe; Beatrice; Daugh- ter of a Genius ; Theodore, or the Crusaders ; The Unloved One ; Africa Described ; Emily's Reward, or a Holiday Trip to Paris. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Pre-eminence of England in Female Writers — their value and importance — literature as a profession — Mrs. Hofland — her birth-place — "classic Sheffield" — her early character and person — marriage with Mr. Hoole — early widowhood — loss of property — publica- tion of poems— opens a boarding-school — commences writing tales — "The Clergyman's Widow" — meets with Mr. Hofland — her second mariage. - 1 CHAPTER II. Removal to London — necessity for the pursuit of liter- ature as a profession — "The Son of a Genius" — Hofland's progress as an artist — industry of Mrs. Hofland as a writer — anecdotes of her advancing career — the late Duke of Marlborough's patronage of the Hoflands, and the troubles it entailed on them —"The White Knights"— Mrs. Hofland's descrip- tion of, and Poems thereon— her opinion of poetry — specimens — " Albert and Bertha", a dramatic sketch — " Lines suggested by an Engraving" — " Sonnet on seeing a View of the Great Pyramid". - - 25 XIV CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. Acquaintance with the world of literature and art — sketches of society — literary coteries — annoyance produced by being discovered as their reporter — aversion to notoriety — her accomplishments as a talker — the Art of Conversation. - - - 50 CHAPTER IV. Henry Neele — her warm friendship for him — his dis- tressing death — shock to the Hoflands — biographical sketch of the deceased by Mrs. Honand — her episto- lary powers — the lakes of Cumberland — her admira- tion of their scenery — Lines to the Cumberland rocks — her account of the lakes — a poetical tribute. 74 CHAPTER V. The Rev. Frederick Hoole — the object of affectionate, yet painful, solicitude with his mother — his last illness and death — Mrs. Honand's affecting account of it — her consolations — her deep but unostentatious piety — illustrated in an essay on November, and the " Fall of the leaf " 100 CHAPTER VI. Mrs. Honand and the world of letters — her select circle — letters relative thereto — her generosity and charity towards sister poets — brother poets — " Shef- field and its poets" - - - - 118 CONTENTS. XV CHAPTER VII. Mrs. Holland's attachment to art — her high opinion of her husband's pictures — not appreciated by him — his visits tp the great — "A Husband's Welcome Home" — her^ qualifications for judging of art — her interest in artists — biographical sketch of one — a romance in real life. - - - - 137 CHAPTER VIII. Mrs. Hofland's partiality for a country life — Holland as an angler — Sonnet on Angling — retirement at Richmond — state of society in London and the country — her novel of "The Unloved One" — her own criticism — unpublished tale, " The Village Florist" — further specimens of her poetry — Lines on the Queen's Marriage, the Princess Royal, Prince Albert, and the Queen Dowager. - - - 156 CHAPTER IX. Fresh afflictions — Mr. Hofland's illness and death — his character as an artist — devotion to angling — love of the picturesque — the poet Wordsworth — sympathy with Mrs. Hofland — excursion to Paris — her last work — visit to her friends in Yorkshire—return to Richmond. - - - - - 190 XVI CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. Warnings of her latter end — attachment to her late husband's pictures — her last work — sonnets — resumes her habit of writing — sad accident — last illness — death — neglected by the clergy — opinions of her works — Mrs. Hall's estimate of her character — monu- ment in Richmond churchyard. - 203 THE LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS 1_^ 0F BARBAEA HOFLAND, CHAPTER I. pre-eminence of england in female writers their value and importance — literature as a profession — mrs. hofland — her birth-place "classic Sheffield" — her early character and person marriage with mr. hoole early widowhood loss of property publication of poems opens a boarding-school — commences writing tales " the clergyman's widow " meets with mr. hofland her second mar- RIAGE. The female writers of no other country have ever, perhaps, been so justly distinguished, or so warmly appreciated, as those of England. There may have been greater heroines in other lands : many such are named in classic records; as, for instance, the women whom Plutarch mentions as having made the warriors of their besieged city blush 1 2 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF because of its dishonourable surrender ; or those who, during the civil war in Gaul, threw them- selves between the contending armies, and having effected a reconciliation, were afterwards honoured by being called to the councils of the State, and made arbitrators to the neighbouring nations ; or, those Carthagenian women, more heroic still, who, during one of the Punic wars, cut off their hair to make bow-strings for the archers. In a still higher and holier sense, the eminence of women in deeds of heroism has often been most signal. A group of pious women surrounded the Saviour's cross, when every man, save the beloved disciple, had forsaken Him and fled. By women, the Christian religion was carried to the thrones of emperors and kings ; and the annals of martyrdom abound with the names of devoted women who sealed the truth with their blood. These are instances of female eminence, concerning which other countries may dispute with us for the palm. But in literature, — in authorship, — we look in vain elsewhere for anything which can surpass, or even equal, the efforts of Englishwomen. There may have been greater wits among the women of other lands, as those of France, perhaps ; but in the sterling merits of literature, and for the real honours of authorship, our countrywomen may BARBARA HOFLAND. o vie with the sisterhood of any nation, or of any age. Few of these have been more distinguished than Hannah More, who has declared, that among the talents, for the application of which her sex are peculiarly ^accountable, there is one, whose importance they cannot rate too highly, and that is influence ; the general state of civilized society depending very greatly upon the prevailing habits and opinions of women. And, doubtless, this is quite true. But how can their opinions be so effectually propagated as by books ? Hannah More has herself, by her own publications, given a practical answer to this question. She has, in one place, expressed an anxious hope, that in a country where her sex enjoy the advantages of a liberal education, of just legislation, pure religion, and all the endearing satisfaction of equal, vir- tuous, and social intercourse, women will not con- tent themselves with captivating man merely for a day, when they can be successfully labouring for all time, and even for eternity : and it is undeniable that there is no more forcible, no more certain means, of facilitating such an object, than by the powers of authorship. To no class of public writers will Dr. Johnson's remarks apply with greater truth, than to the 4 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF generality of our literary countrywomen, when he says, that " the task of our present writers requires, together with that learning which is to be gained from books, that experience which can never be attained by solitary diligence, but must arise from general converse and accurate observa- tion of the living world. Their performances have, as Horace expresses it, plus oneris quantum Venice minus, little indulgence, and therefore more difficulty. They are engaged on portraits, of which every one knows the original, and can detect any deviation from exactness of resemblance. "Other writings," he adds, "are safe, except from the malice of learning, but these are in danger from every common reader ; as the slipper, ill-executed, was censured by a shoemaker who happened to stop in his way at the Venus of Apelles." Such writings are so much devoted to the familiar objects of life, whether material or ideal, that while they address themselves to all, all who read are capable of criticizing, though perhaps not always of appreciating them. Nor does that " admirable partition of qualities between the sexes", which has lately been remarked upon, and illustrated in one of the ablest of the transatlantic reviews, substantially oppose itself to this estimate of female writers. " The Author BARBARA HOFLAND. 5 of our being," it is there observed, " has distri- buted to each, with a wisdom that challenges our unbounded admiration. Man is strong; woman is beautiful. Man is daring and confident ; woman is diffident and unassuming. Man is great in action ; womanrin suffering. Man shines abroad ; woman at home. Man talks to convince ; woman to persuade and please. Man has a rugged heart ; woman a soft and tender one. Man prevents misery ; woman relieves it. Man has science ; woman taste. Man has judgment; woman sen- sibility. Man is a being of justice ; woman an angel of mercy." Now, the power of woman to " persuade and please", her pre-eminence in suf- fering, her diffidence and modesty, her taste and sensibility, her mercy and pity, — these are qualities which peculiarly fit her as well to instruct as to delight the world, — a knowledge of which she is gradually acquiring, even while she " shines at home", in discharging the quiet duties of her own social circle. A celebrated Englishwoman of the last century — an elegant writer, as well as a distinguished wit — has, in her own case, afforded many proofs of these statements ; though, strange to say, she would have denied their practical application in others, whether of her own sex or not, if the occu- 6 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF pation of literature had to be adopted as a pro- fession. Yet, our literary history will show, that to very many of our most gifted female writers this has been absolutely unavoidable. Lady Mary Wortley Montague was, undoubtedly, a brilliant exception; she had the rare fortune to be born to riches and independence. Yet hear what that extraordinary woman says upon this subject: — " The greatest virtue, justice, and the most distinguishing prerogative of mankind, — writing, when duly executed, do honour to human nature; but when degenerated into trades, are the most contemptible ways of getting bread" Such was the monstrous affectation of literary independence and virtue, which one of the most distinguished of our countrywomen, as an epistolary writer and a poet, was so prejudiced as to express — in an age, however, when the claims of women to literary distinction w r ere less acknowledged than they have been since, and when the profession of letters was perhaps less understood ; or, at any rate, less appreciated than it is at present. The subject of our memoir was certainly one who pursued the path of letters as a profession. With her, writing had, in sad truth, " degenerated into a trade", and was made a " way of getting BARBARA HOFLAND. 7 bread"! Yet, so far from being "one of the most contemptible ways", she made it one of the most honourable to herself, as it was un- questionably most useful to others. Lady Mon- tague's notions, however, were not confined, a century ago, \o ithe rich and the great. Oliver Goldsmith (who, if not a contemporary of Lady Mary, followed closely in her track) acknowledges, that "a man who should write for bread, and honestly confess that he did it," — and we may reasonably conclude that the objection would apply with redoubled force to a woman, — "might as well send his manuscript to fire the baker's oven ; not one creature would read him ; all must be court-bred poets, or pretend, at least, to be court- bred, who can expect to please." We wonder how many — or, rather, how few — of the most splendid of those productions of genius and learn- ing, of which our country has so much reason to be proud, would ever have seen the light, had their authors been deterred by the idea of the exercise of their talents " degenerating into a trade", and of its being " the most contemptible way of getting bread"! She, whose life is now to engage our attention, had not perhaps the brilliancy, and certainly she 8 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF had not the ostentation, which such women as Lady Mary Wortley Montague have displayed : " Her's was an unobtrusive blaze, Content in lowly shades to shine." Yet she was ever found exerting her faculties in works of religion and virtue, and in a way to " do honour to", by ennobling, human nature. Mrs. Hofland was a native of Sheffield, — of " classic Sheffield", as Lord Byron sneeringly styled it, in connexion with another of its- wor- thies, James Montgomery the poet,* who on one occasion, publicly and eloquently repelled this ungenerous taunt upon the place of his adoption, where he had from his youth up found a home, and gained reputation, and competency, and " troops of friends". He said : — " The term classic operates like a spell upon our imagination. Without our affixing to it any definite meaning, we associ- ate with it all that is splendid, beautiful, and excellent, in the surviving pages of ancient authors, as well as all that is venerable, sublime, and almost superhuman, in the relics of Egyptian, * u O'er his lost works let classic /Sheffield weep : May no rude hand disturb their early sleep." — English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. BARBARA HOFLAND. 9 Greek, and Roman architecture and sculpture, the severest and most enduring of manual labours. In these, for the present at least, let the writers and builders stand alone and unrivalled. They were the few; but what is the condition of the many in the renowned regions whence we have derived those treasures of literature, and in which we inherit (as common property to all who have minds to admire them) the wreck of those stu- pendous structures of human art ? So far as the epithet ' classic' is an accommodated word, em- ployed by a kind of literary courtesy to designate superiority of intellect and knowledge, I am bold to affirm that Sheffield is as * classic' as Egypt was in the age of Sesostris ; as Greece was in the days of Homer; and as Rome was at any period between her foundation and the close of the third Punic war." Then, after exhibiting in detail the contrast between Sheffield and those famous places of anti- quity, whose names have become immortalized by means of their "classic'' associations, and stating, that this humble corner of the kingdom had within the present generation given birth to four men,* each of whom might in their * Salt, in botany ; Sylvester, in experimental philoso- phy ; Hunter, in antiquities ; and, last and greatest of all, Chantrey, in sculpture. 10 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF respective professions be placed in the first rank of Britons, — Mr. Montgomery thus concluded, — " I should not have done justice to my theme this day, after contending that the people of Sheffield might bear away the palm of general knowledge from the most enlightened nations of old, if I had not shown by these examples of our illustrious contemporaries, that Hallamshire* is as capable of giving birth to men of genius, as were Egypt, Greece, and Rome when literature and philosophy flourished among their privileged orders". He might have added, "of women of genius" too, of whom Mrs. Hofland was un- doubtedly one ; though at the time of those allusions (a quarter of a century ago), she had certainly not attained the full meridian of her fame. Barbara Hofland was born in the year 1770. Her maiden name was Wreaks. Her father was the principal partner in an extensive manufactory of the staple products of the place ; but he died when she was very young, and her mother marry- ing again soon afterwards, the little "Barbara" was consigned to the fostering care of a maiden * The name of the district of which Sheffield is the centre and capital. BARBARA HOFLAND. 11 aunt, who brought her up with parental attention, growing more attached to her interesting charge, as time developed the glowing feelings of her young heart, and the rich graces of her expanding mind ; in which she did not fail to discern the virtues and the talents-which distinguished their possessor in after life. Nor was she, when she grew up to womanhood, without many personal attractions. I have met with those who knew her well at that time, and who have described her to me as, though not what would be called decidedly handsome* yet extremely prepossessing; the intelligence of her countenance, the beauty of her complexion, and the symmetry of her figure, combining to form a most agreeable and attractive person. a The feeling heart, simplicity of life, And elegance and taste : the faultless form, Shap'd by the hand of harmony ; the cheek, Where the live crimson, through the native white, Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom." This description of the poet has been applied to the subject of my memoir, as she was remembered when Barbara Wreaks, even when at the not very youthful age of twenty-six she entered into the holy estate of matrimony. The gentleman upon whom she bestowed her hand, Mr. T. Bradshawe Hoole, was much es- 12 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF teemed in her native town for his high character and worthiness ; and their union gave promise of much happiness. He was the junior partner in an extensive firm of Sheffield merchants, whose transactions were chiefly with foreign countries, and to whom he was a great acquisition, as well from his steadiness and business habits, as from his acquaintance with several of the languages of continental Europe. But their happiness, which had been enhanced by the birth of a daughter, in the first year of their union, and of a son in the year following, was pot destined to con- tinue. Two short years of domestic bliss were all that she was now permitted to know. Her dear and devoted husband was suddenly seized with rapid consumption; her firstborn sickened and died; and in a little while she was un- happily left a widow, at the early age of twenty-eight, her infant son being then but four months old. Nor did the melancholy change thus overshadowing her career terminate with these bereavements. Her severe affliction was aggra- vated and extended by the failure of the house in which her departed husband was a partner. The political vicissitudes which at the close of the last century disturbed and depressed so many of the continental states had brought ruin on most of the BARBARA HOFLAND. 13 foreign customers of the firm, which thereby be- came bankrupt, and swept away by its fall the whole of the property upon which the unfortunate widow and her child had to depend for subsistence. Some time afterwards, property was bequeathed to the child, %j his grandfather, which would have amounted to a handsome fortune by the time he came of age ; but this also was lost by a similar calamity to that which had befallen his father's firm : the surviving trustee, into whose hands it passed, became insolvent shortly before the period when his trust would have expired, and all his ward's property was involved in his ruin. The circumstances of the young widow were now such as to demand her utmost efforts to provide for the maintenance of herself and child. Her first expedient was the publication of a volume of poems. Almost from early youth she had indulged her poetic fancy in the composition of various fugitive pieces ; and at the suggestion of her friends these were now collected, and the proposal announced to publish them by subscrip- tion. This was her first public essay as an au- thoress, and it was in all respects such as must have encouraged her to turn her thoughts to literature as a source of emolument. Much 14 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OP of its success, however, was doubtless owing to the high esteem in which she was held by an extensive circle of friends ; though among the subscribers to her little volume, — who numbered upwards of two thousand, — were many who from their rank in life must have been actuated by higher and more public motives; those, perhaps, of sympathy for the widow and the fatherless, combined with the feeling of regard for that literary accomplishment for which she had already, even beyond her own immediate circle, acquired in some degree a flattering reputation. Her volume was entitled, Poems by Barbara Hoole, and was dedicated to the Countess Fitzwilliam, by her ladyship's kind permission; the head, and several members, of the house of Wentworth being sub- scribers to the work. " I never list presume to Parnass' hill, But piping low in shade of lowly grove, I play to please myself, albeit ill." These lines of Spenser formed the appropriate motto she adopted for her title-page. They were most characteristic of her feelings, and well ex- pressed the modesty and diffidence of her disposi- tion. This was manifested also in the preface, or. advertisement, of her book. " The author of the BARBARA HOFLAND. 15 following poems/' she observes, " most gratefully acknowledges the kindness of her friends, and the liberality of the public. Her subscription list is nearly unexampled in numbers and respectabi- lity : it has Exceeded her hopes, and crow r ned her wishes.'" And then, after alluding to some errors and omissions in the list, she modestly adds : — " Concerning the poems themselves, it becomes her to be silent. It is well known in the circle of her acquaintance, that they have not been printed from motives of ambition or ostentation : she therefore, requests that they may be judged with an indulgence rather worthy of the generosity of her readers, than due to their merits." She had, indeed, formed a just estimate of their quality, which was not such, it must be confessed, as would have deserved of itself the large and liberal and distinguished patronage awarded to them. Some fair poetic imagery they undoubt- edly contain, with abundance of purest sentiment, and some fine thoughts; but, as a whole, they want the talent which has been displayed in her prose works ; and they could not be said to indi- cate the possession of those literary abilities which she in after years put forth. Some of the poems contain touching allusions to those things which could not fail to be deare 16 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF to her widowed heart ; as, for instance, the fol- lowing : — THE WIDOW TO HER INFANT IN THE CRADLE. Blossom of hope ! whose cherub-smile Can all thy mother's woes beguile ; Sweet bud of comfort ! in whose face Her sorrowing eye delights to trace Through every feature, opening fair, An image of thy father there. Ah ! gentle germ of joy unborn, Pale beam of an o'er-shadow'd morn, How shall thy mother's soul express Her hope, her fear, her soft distress, As, bending o'er thy cradled form, She deprecates life's future storm, And prays, with all a parent's fears, For blessings on thine early years : Ah ! babe beloved ! condemned to bloom A floweret on thy father's tomb ; Unmindful thou, that sorrow's power Hath mark'd thee from life's earliest hour ; Reckless of many a bitter tear That flow'd upon thy father's bier, And many a briny torrent shed Upon thine own unconscious head : Yet, while thy little cheek hath prest Thy hapless mother's throbbing breast, BARBARA HOFLAND. 17 No tongue could urge a plea like thine, To soothe a breaking heart like mine ; Pour thro' the breast so sweet a charm, And e'en despair's fell pang disarm. Lo ! on the hoary rock, whose rugged breast Hath braved the pelting storms of many a year, Eve's brilliant sunbeams sink in lovely rest, And tinge the purple clouds that linger near. Sweet scenes of wonder, scenes of beauty, cease ; Ye charm the eye, but can your powers impart The long-lost vision of returning peace, The long-lost raptures of a widow'd heart ] Ah ! no ; in vain your mighty rocks arise, Your soft streams murmur in the pensive ear ; Like them, my drooping heart more deeply sighs, Like them, dissolves in many an anxious tear. The feeling here evinced is most natural, most maternal, — it evidently comes from the heart ; nor is the language in which it is expressed devoid of force, though it may be deficient in poetry. Yet, of the poetic influence she was sensible in all its depth, and all its warmth ; as witness the following commencement of an Invocation to Poetry : — " When morbid melancholy oft oppress'd, Or keen-eyed sorrow pierc'd my bleeding breast, 2 18 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Thou, Poesy ! wert wont to soothe my hours, And strew the wayward path with smiling flowers. Oh ! haste thee now, dear maid ! with power endued, The weak to strengthen, and to quell the rude ; Breathe from thy balmy lip thy melting sound, That heals with holy art the bosom's wound, Wakes in the torpid soul her genial fire, And calls the passions round thy breathing lyre ; Bids each fine string the finer senses move, Lends hope to joy, and tenderness to love, — From soften'd grief extracts a gentle charm, To soothe the heart, the social feelings warm ; Strike tyrant rage, or black despondence mute, Awed by thy voice, or mellow'd by thy lute ! " This soothing power, it would seem, she had called into frequent requisition, since her troubles had come upon her. The following little piece affords an instance of this : — LINES, WRITTEN AT HUDDERSFIELD WHEN FREDERICK* WAS ILL. On my pale cheek, for ever fled, The rose of health no more shall bloom ; Nor hope her lovely lustres shed, To gild my bosom's midnight gloom. * The author's only child. BARBARA HOFLAND. 19 By every trembling nerve confest, O'er all my soul's declining powers, I feel the hand of sorrow prest, And deep despair malignly lowers. But one^famt star, for many a day, Cheer'd my fond heart with infant light ; Behold ! it sinks, — dear dawning ray, — It sinks — in shades of central night ; — Torn from the quivering heart that bleeds to save, Sinks in young beauty to the ruthless grave ! Her domestic sorrows and sympathies seem to have called forth many of the effusions found in the volume, though the greater part of them were the accumulation of by-gone years. The following was evidently an outpouring of the mournful though chastened feeling of the widowed heart : — TO MY COTTAGE. Adieu, dearest cottage, adieu ! For. ah ! 'tis with sorrow I ween, That I shall no longer review Thy woodbine, thy turf-seat so green. No more, save in memory's eye, See the sylphs that enliven'd thy grove, And give to past pleasures a sigh On the site of connubial love. 20 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Yet deep in my heart shall remain The feelings engraven by thee ; And fondly my soul shall retain Each image of seat, flower, and tree. And dearly remembrance shall dwell On the beauties from which I depart, And bear from the sweets of this cell Some treasure to solace my heart. These are simple yet sweet little poems ; and they may be taken as a fair sample of the whole. Severely criticized, they may be found to want the vigour, the power, as well as the grace and finish, which characterized the later productions of her pen ; but they are neither without force nor elegance, nor are they by any means devoid of feeling : but if it be true, as hath been said, that "the truest poetry is most feigning", then were she not a poet, though the sentiment is one which few poets, perhaps, would be willing to acknowledge. The publication of these poems took place in 1805. Mrs. Holland was, therefore, before the public, as an author, for the long period of forty years, — her powers gradually developing them- selves, and her popularity steadily increasing, as time rolled on. The success of her first literary venture was such as might well incite her to new BARBARA HOFLAND. 21 intellectual exertions, though in another and a soberer department of letters ; and the walk she henceforth chose, and with slight exceptions ad- hered to, shewed how correct a judgment she had formed of h£r own peculiar faculty, as well as of the public taste, and the public requirements. The list of subscribers to her little volume occu- pied upwards of forty of its pages ; and the pro- ceeds amounted to several hundred pounds, — a result almost unparalleled in the annals of liter- ature. With the sum thus honourably and flatteringly earned, Mrs. Hoole was enabled to open a board- ing-school at Harrogate. This, indeed, far more than mere literary reputation, had been the object she aimed at in the publication of her poems. For some time the undertaking promised well, but by and by its prosperity declined ; and again she had recourse to her pen to aid, first in securing the means of maintaining her position in society, and then in enabling her to make a livelihood at all. One of the best, most popular, and most profitable, of her productions at this time, was The Clergyman^ Widow, which has passed through edition after edition, until, altogether, as many as seventeen thousand copies have been sold by the London publishers. 22 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF After a widowhood of ten years, passed in anxious and almost unceasing exertions to secure a competency for herself and her child, she at- tracted the notice of Mr. Thomas Christopher Hofland, a young artist of very promising talent, belonging to a highly respectable family in a neighbouring county. He possessed that graceful, cultivated mind, and that dashing and gallant bear- ing, which could scarcely fail to make a favour- able impression upon a mind so congenial, and so enthusiastic as hers. She reciprocated with him those allurements of imagination and of taste which, unchecked and unchastened, are so apt to bewilder : " Smit with, the love of sister arts they came, And met congenial, mingling flame with flame." His pecuniary means, it is true, were only scanty, and his prospects more than doubtful. His family, like her own, had felt the shock of those convulsions which had, but a few years before, so fearfully shaken both the commercial and political institutions of the country ; and his lot, as well as her own, was to struggle with adversity ; but, like the gentle Desdemona : (C She loved him for the troubles he had passed, And he loved her that she did pity them." BARBARA HOFLAND. 23 This was, no doubt, an ingredient in that cup of affection, of which each now drank; and their determination was soon formed to unite their hands and fortunes in the bonds of wedlock. The character which she afterwards drew of a young artist, in her Son of a Genius, when she represents him as seeking the hand of a virtuous and sensitive woman, may be taken as a sketch of him who now engrossed her own affections. " I admired him the most," she makes her heroine timidly to say, "when at the very moment he was quoting that fine passage of poetry, at the name of mother, — -his own seemed to cross his mind, his eyes filled with tears, and he was unable to pro- ceed ; for then I knew that, surprising and clever as he is, his heart felt just as my own would have done at such a sad remembrance !" And the fol- lowing passages may be understood to apply to the same person: — "He had spent much time among the great, the gay, and the accomplished, where his varied talents, elegant manners, and fine person, had attracted their attention, and in- duced them to call forth all their powers of pleas- ing — since every person is anxious to be appreci- ated by those they consider proficients or judges : but he had never yet met with a young woman at once so simple and so wise as Agnes : and he 24 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF yielded with his accustomed submission to the prevailing impulse — the passion which she had inspired, and which it was not difficult to render reciprocal in one already prepossessed in his fa- vour." Again : — " At the time of his marriage he was in possession of a considerable degree of public favour; but, as he had embraced landscape painting (a branch of the art slow in the fame it bestows, and by no means lucrative until that fame is established), it was necessary to husband his little patrimony with prudence, unless he in- creased it by the ordinary method, that of teach- ing; but there was, according to his apprehen- sion, a degradation in this mode of employing his abilities — unworthy of him as a man of genius; he, therefore, applied himself exclusively to paint- ing ; and, professing himself devoted to his art, conceived, with all the ardour natural to his years and character, that success must ultimately crown his labours." All this, there is little doubt, was " drawn from the life' 1 ; and he who sat for the portrait was Mr. Hofland, whom in due course she had married; though in doing so, she acted in opposition to the wishes and opinions of her family and friends. BARBARA HOFLAND. 25 CHAPTEE II. removal to london necessity for the pursuit of literature as a profession " the son of a genius" hofland's progress as an artist in- dustry of mrs. hofland as a writer — anecdotes of her advancing career — the late duke of Marlborough's patronage of the hoflands, and the troubles it entailed on them "the white knights" mrs. hofland's description of, and poems thereon — her opinion of poetry speci- mens "albert and bertha", a dramatic sketch — "lines suggested by an engraving 5 '— " sonnet on seeing a view of the great pyramid". Mr. Hofland had settled at Knaresborough, where he first met the subject of this memoir; it is situate within two or three miles of Harrogate, where she had for some years resided. They re- mained there for several months after their marri- age; but at length the growing enthusiasm and ambition of the artist could endure no longer the obscurity of a provincial town, and he resolved to remove to the metropolis. One may imagine him saying to his anxious wife, in the language of im- 26 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF patience which she has put into the mouth of the character introduced towards the close of the last chapter : " London is the place, the only place for a painter : I have indeed been cooped up too long in the country ; but we will now set out immedi- ately." Nor had she, probably, any doubt herself that the talents of her husband would be best ap- preciated and encouraged in the metropolis; though she had her own misgivings as to his immediate success, and knew but too well the limited resources on which they must depend for subsistence. And soon were these apprehensions realized. Hofland was not quite unknown at this time in the world of art; he had had a picture exhi- bited in the Royal Academy ; but had yet estab- lished no reputation whereon to build his suc- cess in such a region as that in w T hich he had come to jostle his way; he had no wealthy patrons, and but few influential friends, at that time. But he had talents — and so had his wife ; and we shall see as we proceed how well these were ex- erted on both sides — more especially on her part with whom we have more directly to do. Her own description, which is taken from the work already referred to, will furnish, perhaps, the best notion of their present situation: — " His hopes revived with the appearance of his wonted BARBARA HOFLAND. 27 apparatus; and setting seriously to work, he shortly produced two beautiful views of the lakes, which were at that time, as now, in deserved re- putation. Desirous of obtaining the suffrage of artists for his' pictures, he took the opportunity of calling on several with whom he had either been acquainted formerly, or whose names stood so high on the list of professional celebrity, as to be considered general patrons of the arts. He was received by the former with coldness, either as a man forgotten, or as a man whose competition was not desirable: by the latter with more urbanity, but not sufficient freedom to encourage a warm and generous spirit like his to throw itself on their protection ; and he returned to his lodgings disgusted and dispirited, to consider the best way of disposing of his pictures, for the frames of which he had already paid two-thirds of all that he had in the world."" Thus unhappily circumstanced, necessity sharp- ened the invention, and stimulated the exertions of the devoted wife ; and Mrs. Hofland in a short time pursued the profession of authorship with such glowing zeal, and unremitting diligence, that in one year she produced five different works, which were all published in rapid succession, and became exceedingly popular. 28 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF The first work she wrote in London was The Daughter-in-law, which was so much admired by the good Queen Charlotte, that Her Majesty was induced to signify her royal permission that some future work of an authoress so talented, and who aimed so successfully both to " point the moral", and to " adorn the tale", with a view to the highest improvement of her readers, might be dedicated to herself. In the following year this great privi- lege was exercised by Mrs. Holland in behalf of a novel, in four volumes, entitled Emily; and though this has not maintained an equal popula- rity with many of her other and less pretending works, it was yet much admired at the time, even in those exalted circles to which its dedication, under such flattering circumstances, at once gained it access. This novel was followed by one of in- finitely smaller pretensions, but which became, in a short time, one of the most celebrated and popu- lar of all those which had preceded it — that of the Son of a Genius, already alluded to. It has now gone through somewhere about twenty editions, and is still an established favourite with young people, for whose improvement it was particularly designed. She dedicated it to her only son, Frederick Hoole; "prompted," as she observed, M by a mother's anxiety to secure him, and other BARBARA HOFLAND. 29 children of his description, from an inordinate and unchecked admiration of genius" In a dedi- cation to a later edition, when her son had grown to manhood, a,nd entered into Holy Orders, she reminds him^of this, and draws from it the fol- lowing reflection, so pleasing and consolatory to a mother's mind: "From infancy you had given indications of that disposition of mind, which, though it might justify my hopes, necessarily excited my fears also, and called upon me to use every means in my power for restraining its ardour, and regulating its sensibility. It is my happiness to recollect, that the impressions made upon your heart by the moral character of Ludovico were decidedly exemplified, and to believe that they prepared you to encounter, with the humility of a Christian, and the firmness of a man, severe and unexpected trials, and, in some measure, laid the foundation of virtues most becoming the sacred profession to which, from the purest motives, you have devoted your future life. It is under this idea," she continues, " that I offer you again, that which, although a suitable gift to a boy of thir- teen, would be no longer such to you, save as it is connected with the solicitude and affection of a mother, thankful that her little labour of love was kindly appreciated, and dutifully esteemed, by her 30 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF only son. Another reason/' she adds, " may be found in the success of the story, which is, per- haps, unprecedented, towards a book so humble in pretension, and hitherto insignificant in appear- ance. It has been translated into every European language ; and in France, Germany, and Holland, has gone through numerous editions. The wise have condescended to praise it — the good to circu- late it ; therefore, I have some right to claim for it that consideration you are always so willing to bestow on every effort of mine." Besides the favour shewn to this work through- out Europe, its success has been surprisingly great in the United States of America; and, indeed, it is popular wherever the English language is known. It has ever called forth the warmest eulogiums of those whose praise is the most valu- able ; and among other distinguished testimonies to its worth which might be quoted, I may par- ticularly mention those of Mr. and Miss Edge- worth, who have declared, that no literary work has effected so much moral and social good among the people of Ireland, the recklessness and impro- vidence of whose character it is so well calculated to correct. Some passages of this little narrative have already been given, to illustrate the dispositions BARBARA HOFLAND. 31 and circumstances of the Hoflands themselves; and I have had the less hesitation in doing this, from having been assured by some of their imme- diate connexion^ that many of the incidents of the tale are drawn from their own history during the first few years of their union. Not that Hof- land was in all respects, or even in any great degree, the original of Lewis, however truly his wife and her son might have been of Mrs. Lewis and Ludovico. Nor, even, that their circum- stances were at any time closely similar ; though in the reality, as in the fiction, there were adver- sities and troubles, indiscretions and impetuosities, and in both cases they were those of a man of genius, and a painter. The sequel of the following interesting incident was referred to a few pages back. The incident itself is equally forcible and truthful; and we need not doubt that Mrs. Hofland was following fact in the description of it. Lewis, during his residence in Yorkshire, had completed a large pic- ture, for which he purchased an expensive frame, and sent it to the Royal Academy. " Every woman of taste, sentiment, and ability,'' 1 says our authoress, "must feel pride and pleasure in the display of her husband's talents, however devel- oped ; and Agnes beheld with delight this proof 32 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF of poor Lewis's powers, and concurred with him in the necessity of setting it off to the best advan- tage; and when he proposed that they should both go to London for the purpose of seeing how the picture was hung in the Academy, she no further opposed the scheme than to decline her share of such an expensive jaunt. Feeling with him, how natural it was, for a man so situated, to wish, with all a parent's longings, to inquire after the fate of his child, she encouraged him most affectionately to set out, and lost no time in pro- viding every facility for his departure ; only urg- ing his speedy return on account of his pupils, who, being nearly all grown up, were anxious to improve their time, and not likely to accept ex- cuses or delays. Lewis went to London, and with a beating heart flew to the Academy, and there beheld his long-cherished work, — that work on which he had expended the treasured know- ledge of many a year,— -to gather materials for which, he had been many a time burnt by the sun, or drenched by the shower; for which he had passed many a long day in uneasiness and hunger ; many a sleepless night in combining, arranging, and concluding; to which he had bent all the enthusiasm of his imagination, and the knowledge of his art ; — that picture, so valued and BARBARA HOFLAND. S3 so dear, was hung in a corner, aloof from every eye, unnoticed by every tongue, and as little likely to attract attention as when the canvas lay rolled behind the mercer's counter. This misfortune, — for such it really was, — overwhelmed poor Lewis, and perhaps was felt the more severely, because it was the first he had ever really known ; for whatever else he had experienced of trouble, which he had dignified with that name, had arisen, evi- dently, naturally out of his own conduct, as effects follow causes ; and although this was a misfortune felt in common with many other equal sufferers, and was one of those disappointments he might have been prepared to expect, yet, for a time, he suffered it completely to overpower him, and without seeing any friend, making any inquiry into the state of the arts, or doing one of the things which he ought to have done, he precipi- tately returned to Leeds, to throw himself on the consolations of his wife, and to protest against a profession which, after all his labour, had deceived him." None but a painter's wife could have written this description ; and perhaps no painter's wife had ever better opportunities than Mrs. Hofland of drawing such scenes from the life. That her husband was a genius, his works yet live to tes- 3 34 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF tify ; and, to her sorrow, she knew and felt that he had much of the waywardness and the petu- lance which often accompany that perilous gift. Swift thus speaks of it : — " The way to have the absolute ascendant of your testy nag, and to keep your seat, is, at your first mounting, to afford him the whip and spurs plentifully ; after which, you may travel the rest of the day with great alacrity. Once kick the world, and the world and you live together at a reasonable understanding." This the Hofiands lived to experience at length, but the interval was one of much suffering and sorrow of heart. The signal success of the Son of a Genius, only served to stimulate its author to renewed literary efforts, which now became unceasing, and so con- tinued almost until the day of her death. Her powers of composition were very remarkable. Her fertility of thought, liveliness of imagination, rea- diness of invention, and facility of expression, formed a surprising combination of literary quali- ties. She threw off her works with astonishing rapidity ; and while busy with the writings which bore her name, and which were destined to have an enduring reputation, she found time to contri- bute largely, though generally anonymously, to the periodical literature of the day : — magazines, BARBARA HOFLAND. 35 annuals, and even reviews, were enriched by her contributions, for she was a fine critic, as well as a good writer. If she laboured under any diffi- culty at all iji producing the works which she set about with so much cheerfulness and diligence, it never arose from any deficiency, or exhaustion of the powers of the mind, but only from physical weakness of the hand, which made her write in a cramped style ; and when the operation of writing was long continued subjected her both to awk- wardness and pain. I have a letter from her, dated "Richmond", in which she says: — " I have come up here to be quiet, that I may copy over one of my works which is to be stereotyped ; and it is a painful and difficult task." And, in another letter, written soon afterwards, dated " Newman- street", she says : — " I have lately been just worried to death, hav- ing had Patience to write over again and shorten, which was a difficult and mortifying task, but necessary, as otherwise it could not have been sold for the money it was advertised for. I hope now to get a little breathing time." The stereotyping of her works caused her much labour; for it required her to write out her manu- scripts with much more care than she was in the habit of using, and more than would otherwise 36 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF have been necessary. In another note, she ob- serves : — u I am so hurried just now with Patience, writ- ing it a second time over, that I have no time for anything else. My Integrity and Patience are both going to be done in stereotype, and they require very careful copy for it." The works just named were two of a series of delightful fictions, designed to illustrate and en- force the moral virtues which are expressed in their titles, — Integrity, Patience, Self-denial, Hu- mility, Energy, Fortitude, Decision. Each of these formed a separate volume. There was no con- nexion between any one and another, nor were they published in any regular order. In addition to the works already named, Mrs. Holland, at various periods, produced the follow- ing : — Beatrice ; Captives in India ; Says she to her Neighbour, what? The Unloved One; Ellen, the Teacher ; The Merchants Widow ; Adelaide ; Tales of the Priory ; Tales of the Manor ; — most of which were highly successful. With reference to one of these, Beatrice, I find a note from my friend, in which she says : — " I am glad you like Beatrice. My husband thinks highly of some parts of it, and considers the second volume a great improvement upon the BARBARA HOFLAND. 37 first ; only that I rush too abruptly to the con- clusion.'" Yet, in a subsequent note, she remarks : — " Beatrice did not answer at all ; though it was highly spoken^of in many reviews." Such are the uncertainties of literary fame ; and, of course, of literary profit. A further insight into the incertitudes and the " hopes deferred " of a literary life, is given in the following extract of a letter, dated " Pembroke-square, Kensington, February 4th, 1824": — "B 's people are publishing (I mean, at present printing) a book of mine that has been laid by in their desk near two years, and will pro- bably be the last I shall offer the public. They have altered the title from Olivia, to Captives in India, thinking Indian things fashionable ; but I believe they are mistaken. My Frederick looked it through, as he always did, before they went to the printer's, and took out several passages on the subject of religion : he said, he did not like to see holy things in books which, though of good gene- ral tendency, were taken up as an amusement and a relaxation from more serious things. Seeing me look grave, he said, ' dear mother, be content to exercise the gifts you have, and don't try to do that you cannot do. Every religious person looks to proper books, more particularly to the Bible, for 38 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF the confirmation of faith, and for spiritual instruc- tion ; but it is lawful, certainly, for them to read such books as yours, occasionally, and many use- ful lessons may they find in each, besides reliev- ing many heavy hours in times of sickness and anxiety; but it is not good for such writers to meddle with holy things beyond an assurance of their own belief in them.' How far he might be right, it is not for me to say ; but I do know that he believed what he said, and that he is a truly pious man : therefore, I think it worth consider- ation." This was certainly discouraging ; and proceed- ing from one of whom she thought so highly, she doubtless felt it the more severely. And it may have been under the pressure of these feelings, that she said of the Captives in India — " It is pro- bably the last I shall offer the public." But if such was at that time her intention, she saw suf- ficient reason afterwards not to adhere to it. In the midst of works such as these — works of imagination, yet of deep moral interest and influ- ence — containing " Truth severe, in fairy fiction dress'd," Mrs. Hofland bestowed a passing, but still a serious thought, upon a subject of painful national anxiety BARBARA HOFLAND. 39 at the time — that of the unhappy difference be- tween George IV and Queen Caroline. She gave expression to her sentiments in a forcible and well-timed remonstrance, entitled, A Letter of an Englishwoman, which was understood to have sug- gested the celebrated Letter from a Sovereign to his People. This production, like her literary cri- ticism, displayed her keen penetration and fine discrimination, and was expressed in the nervous and appropriate language, which she could employ with so much effect. It was about this time that, in conjunction with her husband, she engaged in an undertaking which entailed upon them, without any fault of their own, a burthen of debt, which oppressed them for very many after years. The obligation was at length fully and honourably discharged, but it was by the sacrifice of the principal fruits of her lite- rary labours. The late Duke of Marlborough had employed Mr. Hofland to paint a series of pic- tures 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 w T ere to be furnished by Mrs. Hofland. Both the artist and his gifted partner fulfilled their engagements most faith- 40 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF fully ; 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 for 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 disowned by one who, in succeed- ing to the possessions with which a grateful coun- try 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. By this unworthy act, a poor artist, and a poor authoress, were saddled with a burden, which it would require the perse- vering labours of many years to remove ; while he, for whose pleasure, and by whose direction, the debt was incurred, " fared sumptuously every day," without even affording one smile of encour- agement, or one act of assistance, to those whom he had so deeply injured. 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. Hofland was able to aflbrd to her husband, it must have overwhelmed him. To her this proved BARBARA HOFLAND. 41 one of the severest troubles of her life, but the high principle which pointed out her course, sustained her under the trial, and crowned her efforts with the reward of a^ good conscience. And if there is something to admire in the example of the greatest modern writer of fiction — the author of Wacerley — heroically devoting his last years to extinguish a debt which made his very dwelling not his own, — which had hurried his wife to the grave, and threatened his children with compara- tive poverty, — and if it is a subject of pride to every honest man that he succeeded in that noble purpose, though it cut short the remainder of his days, — then must the kindred act of Mrs. Hofland be also regarded with admiration and pride, for it was an exhibition of the like persevering industry, strict integrity, and patient self-denial. The Descriptive Account of White Knights was not intended for public circulation; it was impos- sible, therefore, that there could have been any- thing of the nature of a speculation in the share which the Hoflands had in that disastrous under- taking. Only one hundred copies were printed, and they were for presentation by the Duke himself. Twenty-three engravings, from sketches made upon the spot by Hofland, adorned its pages, and these scenes were described and discoursed 42 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF upon by Mrs. Hofland in her happiest style ; the whole being concluded by a beautiful poem, in which the whole subject was reviewed, and its attractions extolled. The peculiar and striking imagery of the poem gained for it the warm ap- plause of the aristocratic circle to which its circu- lation was mainly, if not wholly, confined. To Mrs. Hofland this poem was probably the most formidable part of her task; for although she wrote verse readily enough when fairly in the vein, she always, and not unreasonably, com- plained, that it required more thought and more effort than any other kind of literary composition. It was not often that she would sit down to it. " I am so hurried, that I cannot write verses just now", was a common excuse with her for declin- ing the task. Besides, she had an impression that such a walk of literature was by no means a de- sirable one, in a professional point of view ; and it was in this that she was under the necessity of viewing it. In a note before me, dated so long ago as 1823, alluding to contributions to the peri- odicals of the day, she says : — " I am persuaded that nine readers out of ten skip the poetry. I know that both the editors of the Museum and the Literary Gazette consider one prose article worth two of poetry, for the general reader." And, BARBARA HOFLAND. 43 doubtless, as a general rule, it was so. But one cannot forget, that it was in the columns of the Literary Gazette that Miss Landon, as L. E. L., gained her first and freshest laurels, and that she, by her poems, did more, perhaps, than any other contributor to promote the early success of that publication ; while the Museum would have been unrelieved of much which ordinary readers of such a miscellany are apt to pronounce dry and unin- teresting, without the fugitive poetry it weekly set before them. Of Mrs. Hofland's powers in this department of literature, the following are pleas- ing, if not striking specimens, which may with propriety be classed among her " Remains" — only one of them having ever been seen before, beyond a very contracted circle. ALBERT AND BERTHA: A DRAMATIC SKETCH. Scene. — A rocky point, overhanging a deep, narrow, rapid stream ; on the other side of which rises an ancient tur- reted castle. Albert appears, leading Bertha carefully. AL Gently, my loye — now lean upon my arm And balance well that light and pliant form, For 'tis a dangerous point — but thou wouldst come, 44 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF And who shall venture to dispute thy will, All lovely and all powerful 1 Ber. {smiling.) Nay fie upon thee — wouldst thou chide me now, In our first bridal days % ere the young moon Hath shed her honey 1 doubt not I will keep My vows most humbly, but will also use My sex's privilege, and claim my dues — , Shall I not, Albert ? Al. Aye, now and ever, sweetest — but behold ! From the east tower thy father beckons us With eager hand, as if inspired by fear To see us standing in this awful spot. Ber. I never can know fear when thou art by ; Nor can I dread the place that bids me cling With fonder motion to thy faithful side. Without a blush — in truth I sought this spot, That thou mightst shew me, 'cross the deep ravine The very place (here only visible) Where first thy arm was tried in battle fray, When those mad foes poured round the castle walls, And shook them to the centre. Al. See where the light birch waves its pensile stem Close by the western gate — thence, as thou know'st Poured out our gallant vassals — to the right My father turned, and following him I met The first fierce arm that ever hurled a blow Against his pampered boy. Ber. But yet that boy received it like a man. — I see thee now ('tis scarce three years ago) Spring on thy gallant steed, and wave aloft BARBARA HOFLAND. 45 The sword thy mother gave — then cast a glance, 'Neath thy plumed bonnet, on the trembling girl, That mother's ward, who even in her fears Wished she had been thy brother, to have shared Thy danger an c^ thy glory. Ah Didst thou so wish even then ? — Ah ! cunning one ! Thou wert so young, so gay, the mountain roe Was not more shy nor mirthful — didst thou think Of warriors then 1 had thy girl's breast a throb Bespeaking passion's soft solicitude 1 Ber. But as a sister — pray thee to thy tale — I love to hear of that I ne'er would see. Al. Oh ! I fought on — my maiden sword was sheathed In one fierce captain's breast, and ere withdrawn Two of his band set on me with intents Most murderous, inspired by deep revenge ; But light of frame, well mounted too, I 'scaped Up to that elm, where my brave father stood Unhors'd, and fighting 'gainst a host of foes — Ah ! Bertha, never can my soul forget The more than mortal agony that rent My very bosom at that horrid sight, Yet seem'd t' endue me with a giant's strength. But vain were all my efforts — he was bound As by a chain of foes, and his strong arm (Though one more manly never grasped a sword) Grew faint with labour ; whilst a villain's spear Was even at his throat — when lo ! there fell From yon tall turret (or perhaps from heaven) A stone that snapped the pointed spear in twain, And tho' not ponderous, in its falling force, 46 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Spread a most blest confusion — then I sprang Close to my father's side — sustained his soul — Ah ! how we fought ! we slew ! — thou know'st the rest— Know'st too there was a gentle lady found Fainting ion fear when we returned, anon, As conquerors to the castle. Ber. Aye, false one, thou may st jeer — but I know more Than all that thou hast told — that stone was thrown Most luckily it seems, and well I wot 'Twas by a hand that thou hast thought most fair, One that thy lips hath press'd a thousand times. Al. Never ! by those bright eyes ! nor wouldst thou deem The deed a woman's, hadst thou seen how fell The life-preserving stone to us and ours. Ber. Yet be assured it was a female hand That hurl'd the bolt, then, scared with her own deed, Of more than woman's daring, sunk at once To temporary death — and thus was found. Al. Oh ! my prophetic soul — oft have I said It was an angeVs deed — my life, my love, And didst thou save us ? tell me where thou stood'st ? And how this tender hand of melting snow Could hurl the missile down — Oh ! beautiful, I'll have thee painted in the very act, Thy flush'd cheek glowing with the heightened red Of generous passion — thy blue, sparkling eye Darting unwonted fires, thy streaming locks (Of auburn touched with gold) floating abroad Upon the wanton breeze — where didst thou plant So firmly that small foot, to give thee power ? BARBARA HOFLAND. 47 How didst thou heave, how hurl, the loosened stone From its high resting place 1 Ber. Let go my hand, and I will shew thee how In that awaken'd moment, this slight form Performed, in eager-terror, its strong task. Thus did I stand — thus pushed — {shrieks) — Oh ! I am lost ! lost ! lost ! [/She falls from the rock, and sinks into the stream. Al. Oh ! horrible ! is there no hope 1 no help ? Bertha, my bride 1 my love ? my angel, stay ! Lost, lost, at such a moment — Forgive me, Heaven, I cannot — cannot bear it ! Thou, too, forgive me, father — I am mad, And death is my sole refuge — Bertha, stay ! I come to thee, my bride ! [He leaps from the precipice into the stream. B. H. LINES SUGGESTED BY SEEING A FINE ENGRAVING OF FLOWERS. Flowers ! beauteous flowers ! it well beseemeth you To plead Love's tender cause to Beauty's eye, Reveal its fears by many a changing hue, Or breathe its sorrows in your fragrant sigh — Your charms are exquisite — soft, pure, and true ; And their " mute eloquence" may well supply Sense of that joy which, like the gem-dropp'd dew, Lives in the fond heart's cell, unseen — or known to few. 48 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF The maiden reads — lo ! every blossom tells Some trait of passion — of devotion's power — Each bright corolla with its glowing bells Unfolds the feelings that now rnle the hour ; And whilst with sympathy her bosom swells. And blushes prove how well she reads the flower, With keen solicitude the lover's eye, Asks from that lovely cheek " must he outlive, or die ?" Flowers ! beauteous flowers ! how sweet is your behest, Carrying pure rapture to the anxious heart, And planting Hope (that halo of the breast, Which bids fear, care, and sorrow thence depart), Round the young bosom as a sacred guest, To aid its bliss, and cure its bitterest smart — Thrice sacred is the office to ye given : Children of earth — ye now have "airs from Heaven." B. H. SOXXET, ON SEEING A VIEW OF THE GREAT PYRAMID, DRAWN ON THE SPOT BY MR. EDWARD LANE.* This is indeed a Pyramid ! the first That art hath given to my untravell'd eye, Where Egypt in her mighty grandeur burst On the charm' d sense in fanes that scan the sky : * Author of a work on Modern Egypt, then in course of publication. BARBARA HOFLAND. 49 Yet have I seen these structures oft pourtray'd, And neither thought them vast — nor deem'd them high, Nor felt the " spirit of the past" pervade, The proudest marvels it can e'er supply — To thee, Lane^ alone, the praise belongs, Of painting ^his dread scene with deathless truth, And proving, spite of Time's unceasing wrongs, The powers of Egypt in her day of youth. What other land can boast like heritage To crown with glory slow-descending age ? B. H. 50 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF CHAPTER III. ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE WORLD OF LITERATURE AND ART SKETCHES OF SOCIETY — LITERARY COTERIES ANNOYANCE PRODUCED BY BEING DISCOVERED AS THEIR REPORTER AVERSION TO NOTORIETY —HER ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS A TALKER THE ART OF CON- VERSATION. The Hoflands, for several years during their residence in London, occupied a house in Newman Street, Oxford Street, which then, as now, was quite the region of artists ; and there they were in the habit of seeing a good deal of company, prin- cipally that of their own class — public writers, painters, sculptors, or persons connected with their respective professions. By this means, Mrs. Hof- land's acquaintance with the world of literature and art soon became intimate and extensive ; she gave striking proofs of this, in some sketches of society in London, w T hich were contributed to a provincial magazine many years ago, under the title of " Letters to Kinsfolk", She supposes herself a country visitor to the great metropolis, who had BARBARA HOFLAND. 51 been fortunate enough to secure the companion- ship of one who had access to the circles most eagerly sought after. " You know-1 was aware," the writer observes, " that my visit was in one sense badly timed. The two great theatres were closed; the opera, like a dying swan, was breathing out its last music ; the Royal Exhibition was shut, and the British Gallery on the point of shutting ; the Houses of Parliament were pro- rogued ; the gay world were all out of town ; the King was gone to Windsor; the royal brothers scattered abroad; and, in short, all the grand objects of attrac- tion rendered impervious or unattainable. But there was still much to see and enjoy ; and having set my heart more on men than places — the cabinet riches rather than the 'public treasures of this mighty mart — I seized the first opportunity of accompanying my friend B , and thereby procuring a cicerone of the utmost importance to me. Without such a friend, a man may indeed pay his money, and gaze at a spec- tacle ; but the numerous questions which rise to his lips, and involve not only his curiosity, but much of his satisfaction, must inevitably remain unanswered; for in London all men are strangers to each other who are not personally introduced. In our easier intercourse, the morning or evening salutation suffices in the walk or the tavern to open general conversation, and discuss topics of public interest; but this happy confidence 52 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF cannot exist in large cities, where neither suavity of manners, nor extent of information, insures us from meeting in their possessors principles of character the most dangerous and malignant. Of course it is very difficult to mix in good society. Even houses of public entertainment preserve their own coteries invi- olate; and those literary and professional parties it was my great object to visit— those clubs which Addison and Steele, and since them Smollett and Boswell, ren- dered so interesting, I found, on inquiring, as inac- cessible, save through the medium of one of their own body as an introducer. An intruder is everywhere a forbidden guest, before whose unhallowed presence wit is dumb, or else it descends in such vollies as to drive him away in no very enviable train of feelings, — a circumstance which, however mortifying to a wander- ing admirer of genius like myself, certainly cannot be deemed reprehensible; especially at a period when, despite all care, the public press abounds with private anecdote, and the natural modesty of the English cha- racter is wounded by the notoriety given to the most insignificant trifles respecting those who are in any way remarkable." The first visit was to the gallery of West's paintings in Newman Street ; and one comment confirms a remark of my own at the commence- ment of this chapter, — " ' This is the street for painters,' continued my BARBARA HOFLAND. 53 friendly guide, ' and I saw some moving about who are not its inhabitants. That smart, good-looking gentle- man who has just entered the house above (Mr. Thompson's, K.A.) is himself an R.A, — Mr. Shee,* whose Rhymes on Art will send him down to posterity as a poet also. Nature has been in every way liberal to him — for he not only writes well, but talks well, — a power often denied to the sons of the lyre.' I ob- served, ' that although poetry and painting were not only sister arts, but might even be termed twin* sisters, yet I believed they were seldom united in the same person. Mr. Shee was the only exception I knew of.' * Yes,' replied he, ' Mr. Westall has written some very pretty, classical poems, though he is seldom re- cognized as a poet. Northcote, too, if not a rhymer, is an elegant writer, and is considered the very cle- verest man in conversation now alive, whether for lively repartee, interesting anecdote, or general in- formation'." These little sketches will show that Mrs. Hof- land had an intimate acquaintance with the world of genius in which she lived, though it might be gained in some measure only through the " loop- holes of retreat"; but I shall now present another, * The present Sir Martin Archer Shee, President of the Royal Academy. 54 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF and a larger picture from her hand, which will show this still more forcibly: — " The very evening that I despatched my last, my kind friend took me to a private party at the house of a young painter and his sister, who are both profes- sional, and justly receive a large portion of public favour — Mr. and Miss H r. "We went early, and were ushered into a noble draw- ing-room, ornamented with numerous pictures, busts, and casts, which, together with numerous musical instru- ments and stands for flowers, gave to it a character indicative of intellectual elegance. We took a station, half concealed by a mighty Jupiter and a Grecian lamp, whence each person was pointed out to me ; — in large parties, particular introduction being no longer in- sisted on, a ceremony of course needless, and often annoying. " i That open, pleasant-looking youth, who has just entered, is no less a person than Edwin L — d — r, who burst on the world three or four years ago, as the first animal painter this country has produced — you rnust know him', said my friend. A few minutes made us quite familiar ; and I know not whether most to ad- mire the extent of that talent, which is not more won- derful in its precocity, than its continued improvement; or that simplicity and unaffected good-humour, so con- spicuous in his artless yet gentlemanly manners. You may judge of my feelings towards this young man, BARBARA HOFLAND. 55 when I say, I wished him the husband of my darling sister. Whilst engaged with him, the room filled, and L , jogging me, said, 'Look around you, here are three beauties, and three female authors, already, and you see nothing.' " He was wrong : I had already seen some pretty- looking young women, one of whom I admired ; but it is certain I had seen many equally handsome, and not less elegant, at home ; and I therefore eagerly inquired, ' Who were the other ladies ?' Not, I con- fess, without a little dread of blue-stockingism, which even curiosity could not dissipate. " 6 That tall, good-looking lady, who is pleading a bad cold as an excuse for a very neat becoming dress, is Miss A , whose work on Education has been so highly spoken of. She is a very superior woman ; but, I confess, a little awful to a young man. Miss K , who wrote the Favourite of Nature, and Osmund, is just sitting down; you may see in her manner, and even in the simplicity of her dress, how perfectly she is devoid of all affectation of superiority : — by and bye H — t — r shall introduce us ; in the meantime, as Mrs. Hofland is coming to our end of the room, I will name you to her. In reading her Tales, you are already in a great measure acquainted with her ; she is what in the North you call 6 a chattering, kind-hearted body.' " Mrs. Hofland was suffering from the tooth-ache, so that she was not able to fulfil the former part of her 56 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF character on my first accosting her ; but gave proof of the second, as the evening advanced, by speaking of our neighbourhood, not only with admiration, but affection. Indeed, she is an immediate descendant from ' Canny Cumberland', as the form of her face evinces, in those high cheek-bones, which distinguish us all. Learning, from our young hostess, that she was intimate with Miss Mitford, the author of the last new tragedy ('Julian), I did not fail to inquire after a lady who has essayed, and in a very great measure effected, that most difficult of all tasks, and proved, at least, a superiority of dramatic dialogue, of the most decisive character. Mrs. Holland was much pleased, I may venture to assert, by my remarks on her friend's talents ; and assured me, that a tragedy called The Foscari, although not esteemed so highly as Julian, was, in her opinion, much the better production ; and she appeared to have little doubt that its performance next season would crown Miss Mitford with still brighter laurels. " Through this lady's introduction, I have enjoyed the high pleasure of meeting a large party of literary men at a breakfast given by Mr. , the original projector and editor of The Retrospective Review, a quarterly work, which I perceive you are not ignorant of in the North. It is published for the express pur- pose of redeeming from oblivion works of merit ; which, being shut up in libraries, or become scarce BARBARA HOFLAND. 57 and dear, for want of reprinting, are likely to be lost to the next generation, being nearly so to the present. These are well described and most ably com- mented upon ; and such extensive extracts given, as greatly to increase the literary riches of our day ; in short, it is an admirably conducted work, and what is better (as the world goes), a cheap one. I had con- cluded that this gentleman, as a scholar of Trinity College, and, moreover, a barrister and black-letter reader, could not fail to carry some years on his back, and still more on his countenance, which I depicted in my own mind as thoughtful, even to repulsiveness. Judge then my surprise at seeing a slight, elegant, fashion able -looking man, about three or four and twenty! whose countenance, indeed, bespoke reflection, and whose complexion ' told of the midnight lamp', but were very distinct from any idea I had entertained. Barry Cornwall (Mr. P ), he who charmed us so much two years since, and whose last work will con- tinue the spell, was present: a gentle, modest man, evidently struggling with ill health, and all that train of nervous affections which tell the son of genius so often, ' to remember he is mortal.' Mr. T , author of Tales by a Country Curate, I found to be my right- hand neighbour : he is remarkably handsome, and has moved much in fashionable life ; but on the death of his father, and a great reverse of fortune, stepped into his present station (which is that his work assumes), 58 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF with a modest dignity and cheerfulness becoming his profession. His work has had amazing success. A Mr. B , of Cambridge, a writer of distinguished talents in the Retrospective and other periodical works, was on my left ; and I found every other person pre- sent was in the learned professions, save a young officer, Captain Si~ n, whose work on the gymnastic exer- cises of Germany I will forward to you. He has just returned from the continent, and furnished us with much information on subjects connected with his tour, in an- swer to many inquiries ; such matters being of peculiar interest, I apprehend, to studious men, who are doomed, in general, to travel in their libraries. The state of the public press, especially in its periodical literature, was fully and ably discussed. Different opinions had place amongst us ; but I observed that a reference to our entertainer decided points where knowledge was concerned ; yet in offering an opinion, or adducing a reason, '■ he spoke, though sure, with seeming diffi- dence', and gave information the most useful, and the fruits of research the most laborious, with the easy, unassuming, charity of him, ' whose left-hand knoweth not what his right-hand doeth'. " In short, our entertainment (which, by the way, was an excellent dejeune), afforded food for thought and agreeable reflection, on which a man's mind may live a long time. There was a mixture of the sportive- ness of youth, the sallies of genius, the peculiarities BARBARA HOFLAND. 59 which attach, I apprehend, to college life, and the fashions which can only be obtained in high and po- lished society ; together with that exercise of the re- flective faculties, attached to literary characters, which rendered it altogether a scene of the most extraordi- nary interest to a young man of my description, and can never fail to recall the donor of so much gratifica- tion most gratefully to my memory. " I left my first, kind entertainers — abruptly, you will say — true, but not unthankfully. The evening then being devoted to music, I had no opportunity for conversation farther ; but you will perceive this was the germ for which I am indebted for all that may follow. Mrs. Holland introduced me to her husband, in whose painting-room 1 have passed many delightful hours." It was not unnatural that our authoress should introduce herself in such a sketch, and the modest allusions to her own character and capacity, only serve to exalt her in one's estimation. In subsequent letters of the same series, she gave sketches of some of the literary clubs of the day which the stranger was described to have visited — places which were, twenty years ago, the haunts of those who have been distinguished as " gentlemen of the press" — a term, as she explains, applied to the numerous editors and reporters of the 60 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF daily papers, who were generally associated in their revels with magazine and dramatic writers, re- viewers, often also with young barristers, and with artists occasionally. " These parties," Mrs. Hofland observes, " have extraordinary attractions, from the new and extensive information to be obtained in them, and the ability displayed by a number of men whose powers, whatever they may be, are always ready for the occasion ; since it is evident that a constant use of our faculties, though it denies the study necessary for profound acquire- ments, gives facility in arrangement of idea, and bril- liance of expression. The jarring opinions, the pithy arguments, the sparkling replies, the good-fellowship of paper opponents, the quarrels of staunch allies on the same arena, — the truths elicited from such colli- sion, the test to which talent and pretence are sub- jected, in such a field of ordeal ; form altogether ' metal so attractive', that one would suppose all the world would be found crowding and jostling to get into such places, and that pleasure would be lost in the eagerness to secure it. " This is not the case ; these parties, though large enough for the play of intellect, amusement, and joviality, are sufficiently concentrated for comfort, and even snugness. Any extension of the circle is slowly admitted by men who meet there as at home, not only for recreation but for rest; and who have been too BARBARA HOFLAND. 61 much occupied with public business to care for public applause. They seek only to be appreciated by those whom they appreciate; and if any were inclined to seek the applause of ' stupid starers,' he would soon be brought back to^the ' regular course' by the keen whippers-in, by whom he is surrounded; and who always have the power to make the conceited and restive wince." She, then, after giving an account of two or three introductions at one of these clubs, proceeds to describe a scene there, which no doubt was one of actual occurrence. There were present Henry Neele, the poet, — of whose melancholy fate more will be said hereafter ; Linton, the painter ; Nu- gent, the political writer ; Hofland himself; and several other men of mark and likelihood : — " Scarcely had we sate down, when a serious charge, for some misdemeanour committed the evening before, was preferred against N le and L — - n, the land- scape painter ; N — g — t, the general president of the room, acting as j udge ; and after a long examination of witnesses, and hearing counsel on both sides, the delinquents were fully convicted and each sentenced to pay a bowl of punch, to be drank by the company. During this trial, great acumen, much wit, and consi- derable powers of oratory were displayed. My con- ductor was himself an advocate of no common powers; 62 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF but much as I was amused by them all, I must say that N 1 (who is the leading man of the leading journal) far surpassed them all, and was indeed well fitted for the high office he assumed. His general appearance is insignificant, although his person is neat and well formed ; but his countenance indicates talent and pe- netration, and his eloquence and wit really outstripped all I had previously conceived possible. The happy turn of his periods, the richness of his imagination, the fluency of his words, were not more striking than the evidence he gave of deep thought and observation; and the practice of " looking quite through the ways of men,' which attendance in the courts of law have given him. His experience added to his genius, gave a weight and importance to his words, and demanded that full accordance of the judgment, even in the deci- sion of a jest, which gives gratification to the mind. He is indeed a most extraordinary person, and by those who know him well, not less esteemed for his libe- rality and candour, than admired for his wonderful abilities. " As the punch circulated, the graver business of the night gave way to sportive sallies, brilliant repartee, short, smart argument, and lively anecdote, intermixed with many excellent songs, of which several were com- posed by different members of the party. Our con- victs were both great punsters, and took their revenge by the free use of their favourite weapon. It must be BARBARA HOFLAND. 63 confessed the poet handled his arms much better than the painter ; but the latter sung the best song in the company, and I was told had the credit of being its best scholar also. The evening was certainly one never to be forgotten ; and I can only regret that its very brilliancy prevents me from retailing oratory which charmed, and replies which electrified me." The publication of these letters, containing, as they did, revelations which, perhaps, ought not to have been made — certainly not so undisguisedly, and so immediately after the occurrences — became a source of great annoyance to Mrs. Hofland. The comparative obscurity, and contracted circu- lation of the magazine in which the articles ori- ginally appeared, might have prevented her from becoming known as the writer, but they were copied into publications of greater pretension, and wider range, and there meeting the eyes of the parties concerned, inquiry was instituted, and the author discovered. Her vexation was aggravated by her own name having been for some reason or other printed in full, instead of with only the initial and ending letters. Of this, she complained bitterly in her letters to me at the time. " I am very sorry, and indeed much vexed," she says, " that they have filled up my name, wherever it occurs, instead of putting it in the same way as the 64 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF rest. There is a publicity in this which is extremely- painful to me, because it looks like arrogance, and is particularly mortifying to me just now, as, contrary to my wishes, but, in compliance it seems with custom, I have been obliged to give my portrait to La Belle Assemblee. To single me out — the one woman who is the most retired, and retiring, person in the whole fraternity of public characters, was in itself very ill- judged, and a certain mortification ; to say nothing of its being a liberty with the text no printer ever took with mine before. Although I can have no objection to my name appearing professionally, the detail of private conduct is quite a different thing ; and what most troubles me is, making me different to other people, when it has been for years the great object of my life to pass as undistinguished as the nature of my avocations permitted, and to prove myself sensible that I had no pretensions save to utility." She afterwards spoke of it as a " source of great pain and blame to her," and as making her " re- gret exceedingly that she ever undertook"" these letters. And no doubt she had great cause. She raised a hornet's nest about her ears ; and one of the most stinging of her persecutors was not im- probably her husband himself. We have seen that Mrs. Hofland described her- self as a " chattering, kind-hearted body"; and certainly she was both, — " chattering", however, BARBARA HOFLAND. 65 not in the vulgar sense of the phrase, but as sig- nifying a great though a good talker. " The first ingredient in conversation," says Sir W. Temple, " is truth ; the next, good sense ; the third, good- humour ; and the fourth, wit." All these qualities she largely possessed. She was also a good lis- tener ; and hence, probably, she derived much of the store of information and anecdote which gave so much value and interest to her own con- versation. (< Would you both please and be instructed too, Watch well the rage of shining to subdue ; Hear every man upon his fay'rite theme, And ever be more knowing than you seem, The lowest genius will afford some light, Or give a hint that had escap'd your sight." Such was her habit ; — with her, indeed, it was a virtue, and one that not unfrequently required self-denial for its exercise. But she " both pleased, and w T as instructed too" ; and the consciousness of this made amends for all the inconveniences it might cost. With her " kind-heartedness" every one was impressed who came in contact with her, whether as a passing acquaintance, or an intimate friend. But of this, more hereafter. In the meantime it may not be out of place to shew her correct view 5 66 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF of the exercise of the conversational powers, under her own hand. The following original essay she entitled THE ART OF CONVERSATION. Madame de Stael, in her Germany, asserts that " conversation as a talent exists in France alone ; in all other countries it answers the purposes of polite- ness, of argument, or of friendly intercourse." I apprehend there is much truth in this assertion, made by one whose powers of judgment and observation are unquestionable ; but I am not the less persuaded that conversation in this country might with due pains be rendered equally charming, and more advantageous than it is in the best circles of Paris. There can be no doubt, I apprehend, that the possession of that in- formation and reflection, which furnish the staple commodity on which such powers should be exercised, lies as much in our hands as in those of our lively neighbours ; nor is there any deficiency of that wit to which they have laid an exclusive claim ; it is there- fore worth our while to look into our capabilities, and ascertain the value of our endowments. Taking it for granted that the pleasures of conver- sation are among the most pure and intellectual we can enjoy, and that they afford the means of contributing effectually to the welfare of all we hold most dear ; it is almost surprising that in a country so highly po- BARBARA HOFLAND. 67 lished, and where the inhabitants are alike intelligent by nature and cultivated by education, so little pro- gress should have been made. This is the more to be lamented, because it is certain that, as a people endued with great sensibility and much knowledge, lively ima- gination and copious language, we may be said to possess the means of eloquence ; and it is worthy of remark that in every respect wherein the French have a right to claim that superiority they generally affect, it is precisely in those points which are least connected with the qualities required for this companionable art. They excel us as natural philosophers and mathema- ticians, but as poets and painters are decidedly our inferiors ; and it is therefore natural to conclude that if we could conquer the mauvaise honte which restrains our faculties, and obtain the fluency of speech neces- sary for developing our ideas, the play of fancy, the collision of humour, and the intercourse of friend- ship and sentiment, would be found in higher perfec- tion round the fireside of an English gentleman, than in the most brilliant conversations ot a Parisian circle. I was once informed by a very sensible mother, who was of the Society of Friends, that in their com- munity " conversation was regularly studied amongst the young, as a succedaneum for those public amuse- ments denied by the religious tenets of their fathers" ; and I am inclined to think that their females, at least, possess it in a considerable degree. Forbidden 68 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF to study music (at least instrumental), they must have much time in which to improve their minds ; and pro- verbial for their love of visiting, they cannot fail to find a, necessity for mental exercise of a more profitable and interesting nature than that which occupies young women whose walk in life offers a greater variety of employment, and whose vanity is stimulated to seek distinction through many different channels. Yet surely, were the matter fairly investigated, we should all be inclined to think that there is not one accom- plishment that would prove so truly valuable to the possessor, as the art of revealing the knowledge she may happen to possess, or the feelings which may actuate her, in that modest, lively, or pathetic lan- guage, which circumstances may call for. If our women cultivated their powers of conversation, they would not only be rendered the companions of the men, but in a short time be imperceptibly their im- provers also,— so far as related to the graces, — as the daughters of a family would communicate elegance to the sons, whilst they obtained information. Nothing can in my opinion be more lamentable than to see half-a-dozen fine young women, on whose education there has been bestowed as much money as would have portioned a German princess, and who have probably devoted the spring-tide, the very blossom of existence, to unceasing study, either sit in company like so many statues, or engage in a giggling, whispering conversa- BARBARA HOFLAND. 69 tion, on some subject too frivolous to be owned. A foreigner concludes in such a case that these fair dam- sels are " of outward form elaborate, of inward less exact"; but this is not the case, for their attainments if examined would decidedly prove that they possessed the highest attributes of mind, investigation and per- severance ; but it is a fact that they have never prac- tised the interchange of thought — they are sensible of deficiency, and this sense renders them more fearful of entering into any subject of conversation than girls who are in many respects far inferior to them. A young woman of this description, when she has ceased to charm us at her harp, or amuse us by her portfolio, relapses into an automaton ; but this must be consi- dered as arising from circumstances, and by no means indicating either incapacity or an unsocial disposition; but is a want which ought to be supplied by the care and skill of friendship as speedily as possible. Gibbon mentions the existence at Lausanne of va- rious little clubs of young people, who met at each other's houses for the purpose of conversation, and who thus, without affecting learning, increased knowledge, and elicited that mental improvement which inevitably arises from the distribution of information, natural to the young and happy. If something of this description obtained amongst us, it could scarcely fail to be at- tended with the most beneficial consequences ; the na- tural good sense, and extensive acquirements, of our 70 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF young people, would be called into action ; the sound- ness of understanding, and tenderness of heart, which constitute the charm of wisdom, and the bond of social sympathy, would be duly exercised ; and advancing life could hardly fail to discover talents alike admirable and endearing. I have frequently observed that the inhabitants of the northern counties possess more vigour and ori- ginality of thinking, and generally express themselves more happily, than those of the south ; and, in any London circle, can point out pretty accurately the de- scendants of such families, in consequence of their superior intelligence and fluency. It is probable that this ability arises, in a great measure, from the ab- sence of public amusements, which, as in the case of the Quakers, compels them to the exercise of their faculties in the offices of good neighbourhood; but much of it may be imputed to the absence of those numerous objects of study, now pressed to an almost distressing extent on the minds of youth in the metropolis and other large cities. The spirit of emulation is strongly excited, but not always wisely directed, in large com- munities ; and hence those whom parental solicitude most anxiously seeks to push forward in life, by a superior display of elegant acquirements, are deprived of the very excellence which, of al] others, would ren- der them most attractive, and make them, in after life, the estimable and enlightened companions of their hus- BARBARA HOFLAND. 7 1 bands, and the effective as well as judicious instructors of their children. Nothing can be further from my wishes than to see formal, conceited, affected young ladies, uttering blue- stocking laws in measured language ; discussing lite- rary or political subjects by argumentative dogmas, or long-winded sophistical deductions ; and rendering our parlours and drawing-rooms colloquial arenas or lec- ture-rooms. These are the errors of clever, but sin- gular women, who are frequently led into them by the absence of that general talent we desire to see dif- fused. As no one can sit with greater impatience than myself under the dictatorial preachings of petticoat censors, or the wearisome nothings of a mere chatterer; to say nothing of the whole tribe of hateful scandal- mongers ; — so no one could listen with more delight to the artless observation of a young original thinker — the native eloquence of a warm-hearted philanthropist — the sensible investigator of any new work, whether in art or literature. There never was a period when letter-writing had obtained so generally as at present ; and it is certain, that many young people now write letters, of which old ones might be justly proud, who could not repeat one of their own sentences in company without em- barrassment. It is, however, certain, that as it is a greater effort of mind to compose the sentence than to utter it, whenever the former is accomplished the 72 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF latter may be ; and it is a duty which every person owes to himself to struggle against the timidity and confusion which prevents him from doing justice to his own conceptions, and adopt every means by which so desirable an end can be attained. The man of learning — the man of observation and experience — he who has seen man in many situations — who has tra- versed many countries ; or he who, in the regions of imagination, has attained poetic eminence of thought, and explored new worlds of mind ; whatever may be the attainments or faculties of individuals such as these, they are alike reduced to the common level, if we de- rive neither pleasure nor profit from their society. The heart, also, in all its rich variety of feelings, whether of generous friendship, resolute integrity, parental tenderness, genuine devotion, valiant ardour, honest indignation, or disinterested affection, is a sealed book which (generally speaking) the lips alone can open. Is it not, then, as much a duty as a privilege to culti- vate the power of simple, forcible, and even elegant expression, and to render our tongues the medium which God himself designed them ? In how many instances has domestic happiness been lost, because, when the charm of beauty and novelty was over, the husband found himself tied to a stupid or insipid companion ; or the wife found herself inca- pable of honouring him whom she had promised to obey ! How many have been beguiled by false tongues, BARBARA HOFLAND. 73 who would have preferred true ones, had they been exerted for their sakes ? Let us, then, no longer slight an accomplishment which yields so much innocent pleasure, and is united so closely to all the best and strongest ties of existence ; which gives virtue in- creased powers, and life new blessings ; and, which unquestionably, we have the power of attaining, as de- cidedly as any persons in civilized life. Our literature in general — the senate — the Church — the humour and sentiment to be found in provincial life ; and the lighter chit-chat, or political disquisitions of the metropolis, all bespeak our actual powers, and call upon us to im- prove them. We are the possessors of mines of intel- lectual wealth, which it should be our happiness to raise and to distribute, since it is certainly our error and misfortune to withhold it. B. H. 74 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF CHAPTEE IV. HENRY NEELE — HER WARM FRIENDSHIP FOR HIM HIS DISTRESSING DEATH — SHOCK TO THE HOFLANDS BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE DECEASED BY MRS. HOFLAND HER EPISTOLARY POWERS — THE LAKES OF CUMBERLAND — HER ADMIRATION OF THEIR SCENERY LINES TO THE CUMBERLAND ROCKS — HER ACCOUNT OF THE LAKES — A POETICAL TRIBUTE. The name of Henry Neele has already been men- tioned. He was a talented young author, whose works are still read with interest and profit. This is more particularly the case with his Romance of History, and his Lectures on English Poetry, — the first being dedicated, by permission, to his Majesty King George the Fourth, who was ever the friend and patron of literary merit. Mrs. Hofland had contracted a warm friendship for Henry Neele. He was one after her own heart, — highly gifted, yet humble, unaffected, re- tiring, — and, in the highest degree, kind, so- ciable, and affectionate. " His short life", says BARBARA HOFLAND. 75 his biographer, " passed, indeed, almost without events ; it was one of those obscure and humble streams which have scarcely a name in the map of existence, and which the traveller passes without inquiring either its source or its direction. His retiring manners kept him comparatively unno- ticed and unknown, excepting by those with whom he was most intimate ; and from their grateful re- collection his memory will never be effaced. He was an excellent son, a tender brother, and a sin- cere friend. He was beloved most by those who knew him best; and at his death, left not one enemy in the world." Such was Henry Neele. Strange, that one so intellectual and so amiable — especially since both the powers of his mind, and the qualities of his heart were brought under the sobering, chasten- ing influences of religion — should fall by his own hand ! Yet so it was. An over- wrought imagi- nation made him its victim. " And thus, in the very spring of life", to quote the same authority as before, " with Fame and Fortune opening their brightest views before him, he perished under the attacks of a disease, from which no genius is a defence, and no talent a protection ; which has numbered amongst its victims some of the loftiest spirits of humanity, and blighted the proudest 76 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF hopes that ever wakened the aspirings of ambi- tion — * Breasts, to whom all the strength of feeling given, Bear hearts electric, charg'd with fire from heaven, Black with the rude collision, inly torn, By clouds surrounded and on whirlwinds borne ; Driv'n o'er the lowering atmosphere, that nurs'd Thoughts which have turn'd to thunder, scorch and burst !" The shock of his death — and such a death ! — was keenly felt by the Hoflands, to whose quiet circle he was one of the most delighting; and en- dearing acquisitions. " The death of dear Neele", said Mrs. Hofland, in a letter to me immediately afterwards, " has been, to both Hofland and myself, a heart-break- ing shock. He was the last man of our acquaint- ance of whom we could have augured such a melancholy end; and knowing, as we did, the goodness of his principles, and the sweetness and equanimity of his temper, it gives me a humili- ating sense of the weakness of human nature, that comes home to one's own perceptions in a new and painful manner, in addition to the sense of his loss." She then favoured me with a short memoir of her departed friend, which I shall here present entire, as given in her letter. BARBARA HOFLAND. 77 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF MR. HENRY NEELE, BY AN INTIMATE FRIEND. Henry Neele was the son of an eminent letter-press engraver, many years settled in the Strand. He was brought up as a solicitor, and enjoyed a respectable share of business in that profession, up to the time of his death; being remarkable for his great regularity in the dispatch of all concerns committed to his care, and for the soundness and comprehensiveness of his views in cases committed to his examination. His poetical talents were developed very early, and first announced to the world by the celebrated Dr. Drake, who, in his Literary Hours, gave a very excellent critique on the small volume then collected, which was, I believe, written when he was about seventeen. He was wisely in no haste to follow up this volume, choosing rather to give his whole mind to the arduous profession he had chosen ; and some years, at least, had elapsed, when his Poems, Dramatic and Miscellaneous, ap- peared, and won for him so much applause, that he soon ventured a second volume. He engaged in period- ical works, and composed a course of Lectures on Poetry, which displayed extraordinary research, fine taste, sound judgment, and the most commanding elo- quence. They were delivered by him at the Russell 78 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Institution, and are now going to be published.* Soon after giving these lectures, he engaged to write the Romance of History, and being an excellent modern linguist, it was his intention to carry the work through all the countries of Europe. The high approbation this work obtained, proved his ruin. The publishers pressed him to engage immediately in a new series of the Romance of French History ; aud having made the agreement, with his usual zeal and punctuality he entered on the task at a time when his spirits were absolutely exhausted by past efforts. He had for many months risen at five in the morning, and written in his mother's house till nine ; he then went to his office, where he remained till eight, when he resumed his labours as an author till one or two. Nature at length could endure no more; about nine days before his death, he became confused, absorbed, deranged — then terrible ideas took possession of his mind —he said he had embezzled property, and should be transported, etc. During this time his mother became dangerously ill, and his family thought his peculiarities arose from this cause, when they noticed them, but in the greater distress they were commonly overlooked. Such was his situation, when the rash act of momentary phrenzy, caused, undoubtedly, by some new and agonizing idea, * The Lectures on English Poetry have since gone through several editions. BARBARA HOFLAND. 79 plunged into eternity this truly amiable and estimable man. It appears from notes taken at the inquest, that his uncle (a respectable barrister) had seen his situation, and warned his family against leaving him alone, and that on the night when the fatal act was committed, he had tried in vain to read family prayers — being too much agitated to proceed. The situation of the family, in their anxiety for the life of their only surviving parent, accounts for both circumstances, and he was found by his sister the next morning with his throat cut, and, from the situation of the corpse, there is rea- son to believe the terrific deed had taken place imme- diately on his retiring to his room the night before. For several days previous to this horrible catas- trophe, Mr. Neele had been wandering about the streets of London, and was met the day before it occurred by two friends, w T ho remarked upon the wildness of his looks, and were astonished by the singularity of his manners ; but both were in haste, and neither compre- hended the cause, although they now recollect it, with a terrible conviction that help for his sad situation might have been administered. His clerk saw his state clearly, but delicacy, and hope that he would be better, kept him silent. This young man is incon- solable for his loss ; he told me, with bitter tears flow- ing, as he spoke : — " I have lived with Mr. Neele six years, and during that time, let the hurry of the hour 80 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF be what it might, I can truly say I never received from him one unkind or hasty word." How much of good is comprehended in this simple testimony ! Within two years, poor Neele had suffered dreadfully from a complaint in his head, which threatened him with total blindness, and for many weeks actually deprived him of sight. This severe affliction he bore with the cou- rage .of a man, and the resignation of a Christian, and with returning health entered on his too numerous avocations with a cheerful gratitude to Heaven, which will be long remembered by his friends as a delightful and affecting trait of character, and one which proves that his mind was not lightly overthrown ; indeed they knew that he was a man of religious principles, and though undetermined as to opinion, never shrank from acknowledging his faith, and ascribing to it his hopes for the future, and his moral obligation in the present world. Continually employed as he was, it will be evident that he had as little time, as inclination, for the plea- sures and dissipation of the metropolis. He generally dined at six, in company with two or three friends whose pursuits resembled his own, and whose company was well calculated to give a zest to the social meal. With them he was full of playful badinage, lively ar- gument, or eloquent discourse ; but he always left them at eight, even when he was not pressed — as of late — with literary business ; and when he was visiting at BARBARA HOFLAND. 81 the house of a friend, although he was the life of the party, and could not fail to enjoy the pleasure he in- spired with that gout which is peculiar to the man of genius, he was always the first to depart, being alike temperate in all his enjoyments. He united in a sin- gular degree that best quality of the mind, common sense, with that fine imagination and sparkling vivacity, we so frequently see opposed to it. In the sudden and unhappy overthrow of intellect under which he sank, unquestionably this brilliant imagination became the active source of suffering, and eventually the cause of death. In person, Mr. Neele was below the common size, having very short legs ; but when seated, his personal appearance was agreeable, his face full of sensibility, and the form of his head indicative of mental power. His manners were gentle, and somewhat reserved with strangers, but to his friends, frank and gay, though utterly incapable of all boisterous mirth. His fine practical perception of all that is most beautiful in nature, and endearing in the affections of humanity, was felt in his conversation, and even when he had been sporting the liveliest sallies of wit, he would utter sentiments of compassion, or make observations of a melancholy tendency, in a tone of such deep feeling, as to indicate a mind of singular construction, and intense sensibility of heart. How far these powers might be connected with the 6 82 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF disease which occasioned derangement and death, I have no means of judging. 'Tis enough to know, that " we are fearfully and wonderfully made," and that the most highly-endowed human being is called upon, even " for conscience sake," to guard his health from the effects of that excitement, which sleepless nights and anxious days never fail to produce. Towards all connected with him, Henry Neele was not only just, but generous ; he was the best of sons and brothers ; the kindest of friends ; the most considerate of cre- ditors ; and to the utmost of his power humane and charitable to his poor brethren ; but to himself, he was unmerciful, for he carried his honourable sense of punctuality to a fault : — but I dare not, I cannot con- demn him for an error arising through the very exer- cise of virtues rarely found in the present state of so- ciety, in which selfishness may be termed the easily besetting sin. Henry Neele was in his thirty-first year. His Romance of History is now* going into the second edition ; of the second series two tales are, I believe, finished, and he has also written one for the next year's Forget Me Not, of great ability, but of a mournful character. His great personal regard for Mr. Acker- mann induced him to interrupt his important work, in order to furnish this article. He had promised to * 1823. BARBARA HOFLAND. 83 write a prologue for Miss Mitford's forthcoming tra- gedy, but I cannot learn that it has been found amongst his papers. His poetry will probably soon appear in a collected form, and be published in an uniform manner with his lectures, and it will then be seen that we have probably no records of one w T ho had done so much and so well, who died so soon, and was besides employed in pursuits so uncongenial, yet demanding all the energies of the mind. B. H. In a postscript to the foregoing letter, Mrs. Hof- land says : " I could not write this better, for it has cost me many tears." And, with the melancholy feelings still predominant, alluding to a promised visit to me in the neighbourhood of the Lakes, she remarks : — " But deeply impressed as I am with the incertitude of all human projects, I dare not say much about it." She cherished a most painful though affectionate remembrance of her ill-fated favourite to the end of her own more lengthened and less calamitous career. Of Mrs. Hofland's epistolary powers, some idea may be formed from what has just been given. Yet, strange to say, she did not correspond much. For twenty years she was in the habit of writing frequently to me ; but she has told me that I was almost the only one to whom she wrote long letters : — 84 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF " I know not when ever I wrote so long a letter ; for, indeed, I rarely write letters at all ; but I must be ungrateful, as well as unfriendly, if I did not feel the value of that continued kindness with which you have so long been pleased to regard me, and express it by the only mode of frank communication our distance permits. ... I had great pleasure in receiving your kind letters ; for it is certainly a gratification to find ourselves continue to be held in esteem by one who so warmly adopted me into the circle of his friends as you have done. I have by no means given up my intention of visiting the north, and have always reckoned on coming in my rounds to you and Mrs. R., of whose health and welfare I am glad to hear. My two last summers have been in a great measure devoted to the sick in my family, i. e., my son, and a near relative, whom I have each summer attended to the sea-side ; but I am in hopes next year may be more propitious. Time is advancing with me ; and although I am really more healthy and capable of exertion than I was in early life, yet I am aware that that which I mean to do, and earnestly wish to enjoy, should not be delayed. I have a near relative, you know, at Newcastle, whom I greatly desire to visit ; and I think of going from his house to Cumberland, returning home by Ripon, Shef- field, and Leicester. How far I shall be able to do this, I know not; for the farther we travel in life's journey, the more fully do we learn, that ' man pro- poseth, but God disposeth.' " BARBARA HOFLAND. 85 Such were the friendly, familiar terms in which she was in the habit of addressing me, even amidst those pressing professional engagements from which she was seldom free. Her long promised visit to the north was not paid during my re- sidence there. But she was no stranger to that part of the kingdom ; indeed, she was connected with it by the ties of kindred — being descended by her mother's side from an old and much re- spected Cumberland family. In another letter, she says : — " I wish I could chat with you in person instead of on paper. But you are such a long, long way off. My heart flies to ' canny Cumberland' sometimes, un- til I have all the Swiss longings upon me, for its lakes and mountains, and its still dearer people ; but the strength demanded by so bad a traveller, and the money, and the necessity of some one being at home, press upon me, and I give it up." Of the picturesque scenery in that romantic region, it was to be expected that she should have a high appreciation, since it furnished subjects for some of the finest efforts of her husband's ge- nius as a landscape painter. He, in fact, was a " lake painter,"" as much as Wordsworth is a " lake poet." But the following little poem on some of its grandest features, was written and 86 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF published long before Mrs. Hofland became ac- quainted with her second husband — it is one of the collection already alluded to as the u Poems of Barbara Hoole: — CUMBERLAND ROCKS. Scenes of magnificence ! your powerful charms, That burst stupendous on mine aching sight, Now thrill the trembling vein with wild alarms, Now wrap th' exulting soul in high delight ! From Alpine mountains gush the maddening streams, That sweep with snow-tipt wave the verdant vale, Catch with pellucid drops light's quivering beams, The gay foam sparkling in the gusty gale : — While on the hoary rocks, whose rugged breast Hath braved the pelting storms of many a year, Eve's brilliant sunbeams sink in lonely rest, And tinge the purple clouds that linger near. Sweet scenes of wonder, scenes of beauty cease ; Ye charm the eye — but can your powers impart The long-lost vision of returning peace, The long-lost raptures of a widow'd heart 1 Ah ! no — in vain your mighty rocks arise, Your soft streams murmur in the pensive ear ; Like them my drooping heart more deeply sighs, Like them dissolves in many an anxious tear. BARBARA HOFLAND. 87 But I have in my possession a description of Cumberland scenery cast in quite a different mould. It is in the form of a narrative of a tour among the principal lakes, and has so many points of interest about it, that I present it without further preface. THE LAKES OF CUMBERLAND AND WESTMORELAND. At a season of the year when all the world is in motion, and nature herself, in the rapid development of her powers, excites us to observe her progress under every form, we apprehend that our readers will pardon us for offering to their consideration the beautiful scenery of this favoured country, and invite them to a tour which has the singular felicity of being neither dangerous, difficult, expensive, nor tedious ; yet which presents a variety of scenery, and combinations of grandeur and beauty, which are not to be equalled in the same compass, or beheld with equal facilities any where in Eurcpe. If the Swiss traveller informs us that our mountains are mole-hills, and our lakes fish-ponds, compared to those he has beheld, we may yet boldly appeal to him whether our own are not more picturesque ? In fact, every painter allows this, and their works incontestably prove it ; for although we see numerous views which excite exclamations of surprise at the magnitude of a 88 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF mountain, or the fall of a cataract, yet we seldom meet with such an assemblage as fills the mind by its sub- limity, or touches the heart by its concentrated beauty. All the objects are too extensive to produce these emotions ; the lakes in their magnificence redace the mountains, which in their turn retaliate this effect, — neither are brought sufficiently home to the eye for their peculiar beauties and relationship (with the grand characteristics of an extensive scene) to ba fully re- vealed ; — hence there are magnificent objects, but few picturesque views ; we gaze in wonder, but we seldom experience delight. On the contrary, every step in our own magic circle is calculated to awaken pleasures even to rapture, affording also sufficient stimulant in its bolder features to those emotions of terror and surprise, those raisings up of the soul to courage and endurance, which render danger and fatigue the handmaids of enjoyment. A tour to the Lakes, even under ail the accommodations offered by modern improvement, is a very distinct thing from a Cockney's drive to Brighton ; and that party who share the eye and the mind necessary for fully entering into the spirit of the journey, will find that they must use exertions unknown to him " The son of ease and leisure, Who in trim gardens takes his pleasure.' ' But " courage, mon ami" the lads of the north, and BARBARA HOFLAND. 89 the lasses too (fair and gentle as they are) fear neither a rough road nor a mountain blast ; they are also en- dued with a sufficient portion of the amor patrice to render the beauties of their own country endearing to them as such ; and all are gifted with that wise curi- osity which is the proof of intellect and the germ of knowledge. Set out, therefore, and do as we have done ; for even the busiest may spare as much time, and the most frugal as much money, as was claimed by the little excursion which we will venture to describe. A newly married couple, and a brother and sister, occupying two gigs, and three young men on horse- back, constituted the party. We set out early in the morning, and reached Penrith to breakfast. I say nothing of the road to a place so well known ; but I may be allowed to observe that the first glance of its deep red and shining white houses, intermixed with green foliage, and semicircularly guarded by distant mountains, renders it an object of beauty and promise, as a kind of barrier town to the new kingdom we are entering. Whilst our ladies visited their friends (for who has not friends in that friendly town ?) and our horses enjoyed food and rest, the gentlemen climbed to the beacon on the neighbouring fell, saw the monu- ments in the churchyard and the ruins of the castle, and after an early dinner we all set out for Keswick. A few miles of the road now brought us into that mountainous district it was our object to explore. 90 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF " The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty," hailed our coming, by the gentlest breeze that ever waved over heather, all the way from Penrith to Hutton Moor ; but just as we wound round the mighty Saddleback, and looked up with inquiring eyes, as if to trace the aerial soldiers, so singularly described by Mr. Lancaster about sixty years since, we saw his crater-like summit suddenly covered by rapidly descending clouds, and in a very few minutes, long gathering vollies of dense mist rolled down his mighty sides, and involved even us in his deep gloom, and big drops of rain began to descend with the precipitation peculiar to mountain storms. At this time, it is certain, we had all the grand features which belong to this description of scenery, nor could the highest Alps have afforded any- thing more sublime ; for the black clouds which hung on every mountain, the utter desolation of the view around, so far as it was pervious, presented only the wild, magnificent, and terrible outline, which imagi- nation might fill up with every horror. The pattering storm, however, compelled us to attend to real evils ; cloaks, and coats, and umbrellas, were hastily drawn from the carriages ; but we soon found the " spirit of the storm" not to be defeated by such paltry expedients : there was a howling and pouring importance in the wind and rain which for a short time impressed us with a sense of that impending destruction given by a violent storm at sea : and our sympathy for the female suf- BARBARA HOFLAND. 91 ferers, in this rude attack of the elements, was drawn upon in a similar manner. Happily it was soon over, and the whole awful apparatus of " clouds and thick darkness " drew up like a mighty curtain sucked in by the upper regions, and the sun looked down upon us in his brightness, from a firmament of pure azure, shedding beams of light upon objects of such beauty that they appeared like a new world in the progress of resurrection. Streams of liquid silver ran leaping from cliff to cliff down the sides of the mountains ; myriads of gems sparkled on the green grass; point after point of the mighty amphitheatre of fells, before and around us, revealed their forms; the gentle bleating of the woolly tribe was succeeded by the song of birds, rising by degrees from the chirrup of recent distress to the full note of exultation. Under the sensations of delight thus produced, we descended to Keswick, with Derwentwater and Bassenthwaite before us, extended like two immense irregular mirrors. We saw the sun set from Castlerigg and rise on Skiddaw — made the usual circuit of the lakes — admired the falls of Lodore — sighed over the memory of Lord Derwentwater — took a flying peep at the Museum — and then set forward to Ambleside early in the evening. Nothing could exceed the beauty of St. John's vale, in its lovely union of sylvan simplicity and solitary magnificence ; and on emerging thence, our ride was scarcely less interesting on the banks of 92 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Leatheswater, under the broad shadow of the lofty Helvellyn. Grasmere succeeded, seen under the mild rays of a declining sun, — according with its own soft retiring character, shut up like the gardens of Eden from the profane gaze of the world. How softly did the blue and purple haze of the mountains contrast with the brilliant lake, the white cottages, and the tender green of the young foliage. But we must hasten forward. Ambleside is full of beauties. Every object around you has a character, and yet it is certain that tired and hungry travellers found the Salutation Inn, if not the loveliest, yet the most desired; in fact it is a very com- fortable house, and we soon became not only easy but merry, and rose from excellent beds the next morning with new powers. Whilst breakfast was preparing, we visited the beautiful cascade of the Groves, which so delighted us, that as time was precious, we did not go to Eydal, but procuring boats (after paying a visit to Mr. Green's rooms) we proceeded to the lake. The surrounding mountains were covered with mists, which by degrees rolled away in many a curling vo- lume; giving to all the objects within the range of the eye those beautiful varieties peculiar to the land of fells and lakes. As we proceeded the day cleared, and the smooth unbroken face of the water, the rural beauty of the banks, and the excellent sense of calm seclusion which characterizes this water, producing a BARBARA HOFLAND. 93 stillness which may almost be felt, was experienced by us all, and enjoyed in that delicious serenity of spirits which converses rather by looks than words. I believe we all thought of Rousseau's description of his own sensations in such a situation ; but none of us spoke ; we were all too happy for talking. We stopped at the Station, where we stayed some time ; then walked down to the Sun, discharged our boats ; refreshed ourselves and our horses ; and re- sumed our journey (which was up-hill for several miles) on our way to Coniston. That part which led us on the banks of Esthwaite Water to Hawkshead was singularly beautiful; and, after it was passed, was frequently looked back upon with lingering admira- tion ; especially as the road became dreary and mono- tonous, until we drew near the lake, to which the bold black mountains that crown its head, had long held out to us a kind of frowning invitation. We reached the little inn, just in time to avoid another drenching from the rain, and to witness a thunder-storm in all its terrific glory. The bellowing echoes of the mountains, the vivid flashes of lightning, glancing on the broad expanse of water, now tossed violently by the wind, and foaming like a mimic sea up to the very windows where we sat ; the tremendous roaring of the elements, the perfect darkness, inter- rupted only by sheet or forked lightning, rendered the whole impressive beyond the power of description ; 94 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF and in exercising our reasoning faculties, the devo- tional aspirings, and the affectionate sympathies of our little party, formed a tie of friendship, and touched a chord of sensibility, which will, probably, never be forgotten by any of us. The storm cleared ; the evening was lovely ; the moon shone on the clear lake, which gently subsided from its late angry bearing into the softest ripple. We walked on its banks till a late hour, then supped on unequalled char and mutton hams, in recovered spirits, and arranged our plans for the morrow; agree- ing in the conclusion that we had seen all which was best in Coniston-mere, since, with much beauty, it has little variety. A mountainous ride to Ambleside next morning gave us all a high relish for a solid breakfast; after which we set out for Patterdale. Like the poet Cumberland, we reached " the impe- rial lake of Patrick's dale" under the happiest ele- mental effects, and were convinced, that taken alto- gether, Ullswater was the most various and picturesque of all the lakes. We took one of Mrs. Dobson's boats, and spent nearly three hours on its pellucid bosom, sometimes gazing on its beautiful banks, sometimes looking on their reflections in the smooth surface over which we glided, which shewed us a world below, even more fair than the fair reality above. The house and gardens of the Rev. Mr. Askew, the heights of Sty- BARBARA HOFLAND. 95 bray, and the village of Patterdale, with its little white church, can never be forgotten. The following morning we set out for Penrith, and saw on our way thither the whole of this enchanting mere, sometimes expanding into a majestic lake, at others assuming the character of a noble river. We visited the fine cascade called Airey-Force; loitered to observe Lyulph's Tower and Ewe Crag; and ventured to gaze some time at the fine seat of Halstead,* from which the grand bend of the lake, and its best scenes, must be very apparent. Slowly advancing, various houses, indicating the elegance of polished life, were seen; the little village of Watermillock came next, and then another elegant mansion. Dunmallett, a wood- crowned mountain, next appeared to close up the lake, which was soon hidden from our eyes. The road was yet enlivened by the beautiful mansion of Dalemain ;f soon after which we again reached Penrith, where we slept. The following day showed us all the beauties of Nunnery, and we reached home with great ease, having in six days made a tour which comprised all the most striking features of this enchanting country; and concentrated as much blameless pleasure as human beings could experience ; and which has the peculiar * The seat of the late John Marshall, Esq., formerly High Sheriff of Leeds. t The ancient family seat of the Hasells. 96 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF happiness of leaving on the mind impressions which may enliven many a solitary hour, and perhaps soothe many a sorrowful reflection, and never can excite regret or repentance. B. H. Mrs. Hofland has also given expression to her thoughts and feelings on the region of the lakes, in some beautiful verses, which, although they have already adorned more than one collection of popular poetry, will yet bear transcribing here. The " steep ascent " she had climbed, Mell Fell, is a conical hill, formed of a curious conglome- ration, which rises a few miles from the banks of the lake of Ulles water. TO MISS MITFOKD. I send you mosses : — once they grew On lofty Mell-Fell's highest brow, They witness how I wish'd for you While gazing on the world below — A world so fair, and yet so rude, Your own sweet Blanche's wand'ring feet Ne'er gain'd a deeper solitude, Or found a more sublime retreat. The spirit of the mountain smiled, And as I trod the steep ascent, Fresh air and glowing beams beguiled The toilsome way ; and oft I bent, BARBARA HOFLAND. Half trembling, and with proud delight, To find myself advanced so high, That I had reached the envied height, Where the green mountain kiss'd the sky. The long clear lake before me spread — A crystal mirror, where enshrined, The cot, the copse, the hedge-bound mead, Deep in the wat'ry world reclined ; With such a soft reflected grace, As youth's more brilliant tints disclose, When we the mother's beauties trace In her first girl — her blooming Rose. I look'd o'er glens and dingles dank, Where many a streamlet glides unseen ; I gazed on many a glowing bank, Of golden furze and brackens green ; — There mountains piled on mountains rise, Of every form and every hue ; Here huge Helvellyn meets the skies, There frowning Skiddaw towers in view. And now the mighty circle round, A giant rampart strikes the sense, Within whose limits scenes are found Close to the sight, yet far, far hence ; And scarcely can the dazzled eye, Inebriate with its eager glance, Distinguish what it can descry Through such a vast and fair expanse. 98 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Yes ! there is Halstead's noble seat, Reposing like the dappled fawn, The blue lake winds around its feet, The dark oaks spot its emerald lawn : Beneath grey Stybraw's craggy brow (The mountain queen of Patrick's dale), Beams Askew's dwelling, sweetly low, The sheltered "lily -of the vale." But here is Rampsbeck's lovely dome ; The light smoke curling thro' the trees, Seems as if beckoning those who roam To rest them here in joyous ease; For ne'er was hospitable board More freely given, more freely spread, And ne'er was polish' d mind more stored Than his who welcomes at its head. My own dear home beneath my feet, Recalls the fond excursive flight ; Yet distant Penrith ! I must greet Thy turrets red, thy dwellings white ; For minds as pure, and hearts as warm, Within those social dwellings rest ; Thine kindled love, thine beauty's charm, And kindness to the stranger guest. The sun declines; we must return; — But ah, my giddy brain turns round ; I cannot hear the trickling burn, Nor dare I tread the slippery ground. BARBARA HOFLAND. 99 My dear companion's arm my stay, She leads me trembling, falt'ring, blind, Unused to such adventurous way, Till the steep greensward path we find. Oh ! 'twas a wise and hardy wight, Of nerve untamed and sinews braced, That down the mountain's fearful height, This side-long pathway boldly traced ; The blood that warms my recreant veins, From the same source its being gain'd, But time, and sea, and southern plains, The mountaineer's bold drops have drain'd. Safe on the lower ground I stand, Exulting in the labour past — My sylvan prize is in my hand, Which, Mitford ! at your feet I cast ; Assured that e'en my humble lay That gentle bosom will not scorn, Though genius poiir'd the brilliant ray, That your own truthful works adorn. B. H, 100 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF CHAPTEE V. THE REV. FREDERICK HOOLE THE OBJECT OF AFFEC- TIONATE, YET PAINFUL, SOLICITUDE WITH HIS MOTHER HIS LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH MRS. HOFLAND'S AFFECTING ACCOUNT OF IT HER CONSO- LATIONS HER DEEP BUT UNOSTENTATIOUS PIETY ILLUSTRATED IN AN ESSAY ON NOVEMBER, AND THE " FALL OF THE LEAF 5 '. Incidental mention has already been made of Mrs. Hofland's only son, Frederick Hoole. Having entered into the holy orders of the Church, he became, in a short time, curate of St. Andrew's, Holborn. He was a most zealous and exemplary divine; indeed, he was, in all respects, a son worthy of such a parent, and did credit to the careful training he had received at her hands. To her, he was ever most devoted and affectionate; and she, as might be expected, was dotingly fond of him. She frequently spoke of him to me with the warmest affection, and the most earnest solicitude. BARBARA HOFLAND. 101 " My son, Mr. Hoole," she writes in one of her let- ters, "is a constant sufferer in his health, being in confirmed asthma. Nevertheless, he struggles with his disorder, so as to prove himself an indefatigable mi- nister of the Church in a large parish (St. Andrew's, Holborn). Being the under-curate there, he has something to do to make all ends meet; though his rector is liberal. But if ever human being was willing to spend and be spent, it is he ; so that is not felt by him as a trouble, save in the moment of pressure. You may recollect that — — 's bankruptcy not only deprived him of his fortune, but left him actually in debt, which alas ! must continue as long as I live." Again, writing to me from Richmond, she ob- serves : — " You will, I am certain, be glad to hear that my dear and worthy son, who is, you know, a curate in the City, has lately got a little addition to his income by being appointed joint-lecturer in the same church, which is a great comfort, as he previously was greatly pinched. It is the more gratifying, because it has proved that his previous labours were not in vain. It is the gift of the parish, who came forward in the handsomest manner to give this testimonial to his un- remitting zeal and kindness. On this occasion (which was a very great one) he came down to Richmond to spend a short day, the only holiday he has had for above a year ; indeed, he has not, I think, taken even 102 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF a cup of tea with us in Newman Street during that time, as he never goes out of his parish, except upon business. But he has been more closely tied than he ought." And again : — " My son keeps struggling on — the greatest sufferer and the hardest labourer in this busy vineyard ; he is so attached to his duty in that terrible, poor, wicked, and populous parish, that I do really think he could not leave it ; yet he ought for his own sake to be in the country ; it is a source of great sorrow to me that he is not." But the time was at hand when all her anxieties and cares on his account were to cease. His dis- tressing complaint was aggravated by the severity of the course of duty to which he devoted himself, most willingly and conscientiously, knowing that of the souls committed to his charge, he must one day " give account". He lingered on, under painful and often alarming affection of the chest, receiving from his kind and anxious mother the utmost attention w^hich it was in her pow r er to bestow, until death relieved him from his suffer- ings, and her, whom it had cost many a pang to witness them, from her long-endured solicitude and apprehension. The following is her own most touching account of his last attack, and of the death-bed scene. BARBARA HOFLAND. 103 6, Pembroke Square, Kensington, July 9, 1833. Accept my sincere thanks, dear Mr. Ramsay, for your truly kind letter. I do believe you did indeed feel for me, for you were aware how fondly a long-widowed mother must cling to her only offspring, and especially to one whose manhood was as endearing as his infancy, whose misfortunes gave him a more than common claim on a mother's tenderness, and who, from forming no marriage connexion, was bound as by tenfold cords to the only relation he had on earth. All these things did indeed make parting a bitter draught, but it was long foreseen, and by him long de- sired ; often has he said : — " Never labourer looked towards evening as anxiously as I do, mother ; for the hour of rest will indeed be sweet"; yet like many other consumptive patients, he did at times think he should get better, at a period when all hope was over. He had in the course of the last seven years lived through so many bad times that he concluded this also might be passed, and indeed so did many friends, and Mr. Hofland among the rest, but I did not ; from September his doom seemed sealed, yet he laboured on in all his ha- rassing duties to within seven weeks. The last time he was at church he read at the communion table, but found he could not go into the pulpit. Even after that, he still contrived to feel and think for his people and the schools. All the poor he knew (and they were 104 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF a host) were on his mind, and their wants, spiritual and temporal, were considered and relieved through every medium open to him, and it was wonderful how so weak a man, harassed by incessant cough, weak- ened by severe pains in the breast, and who had been without sleep for months, contrived to do much for all, by writing, having committees, giving instruction to those who were engaged in public or private charities, &c. His great fear was that of becoming useless ; sometimes he would express fear of living to want bread, but he would hastily check himself, and add : — "But that is a trifle compared to the affliction of being wholly cast aside yet continuing to exist : surely my Heavenly Master will not call me to that? all else I can bear ; but His will be done in that also." On this point I always sought to reassure him, for I saw he was nearly worn out; but I believe he would have lived a good while longer if the cold had not set in so severely in March — he was sensible it would not be possible for him to live under such circumstances, and from the time he knew that I expected the change, no one ever lived who experienced more happiness in the hopes of a humble but confiding Christian. All his fears had been for me ; and he observed : " We had neither of us the power to talk of our parting without being too much affected, therefore of that we would not speak ;" but of his own removal, his faith, his deep solicitude as a minister of Christ, he spoke BARBARA HOFLAND. 105 continually, in conversation with his beloved friend and fellow -curate, Mr. Riddell, who was unto him more than a brother, and who is now gone home to Berwick-on- Tweed. It pleased God to remove his pains twenty- four hours before the last, and his spirit rose as it were triumphantly from the pressure of the flesh, yet only the more sensible of the deep humility which becomes a creature about to enter the immediate presence of his God, and sensible of the bonds which cling to every heart. Perhaps no man ever felt friendship more warmly than Frederick Hoole ; those whom he loved had his whole heart, and the manner in which he now looked and spoke to the few he saw, will never be for- gotten by them. Hofland came to see him (as it hap- pened) on the last day of his life ; the pleasure he ex- pressed was wonderful, yet he then believed himself dying ; indeed he breathed his last in sleep a few mi- nutes after he went away, having within an hour prayed fervently for us all, after which he said : — " In one hour I may be with Jesus." I write to you out of a full heart, for I feel that you are an old friend, and will bear all the dear memorials of things sacred to some, though " foolishness" to others. At the time I lost him, I bore the stroke far better , than my husband, whose exceedingly bad health ren- dered him soon overpowered, and who had never be- lieved him likely to die at that time. I caught perhaps 106 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF somewhat of his own spirit from his example, and felt that I could say, " Thy will, not mine, be done"; but that time has passed, and my heart feels more and more bereaved. I would not wish to have my poor afflicted one back again, to suffer and die — to be a harassed worn-out man, sickly in constitution, impo- verished, controlled by the unworthy, struggling with difficulties, suffering in body and anxious in mind — oh! no, it is far better, even in a worldly sense, that he should be at peace; but still I have lost my all. I have nothing to hope, nothing on which to rest for comfort : but there is one consolation — if life has lost its sweetness, it will not last long. Oh ! that I were as fit to quit it as he was, — but that I cannot hope for. It was a great misfortune to me that we left London at the very time when my son's declining health ren- dered me of tenfold value to him. Alas ! Holland was so ill for months that we were obliged to get out of town in November, and came to Kensington; my poor son never entered our present abode, for it was so great a difficulty even then to get through his duties, that he put off coming till fine weather. I generally got to see him twice a week, but sometimes only once; the last three weeks I was with him day and night, and his pleasure in my company was wonderful, — he would scarcely bear me out of sight ; he used to say : " Sit by me, dear mother, that I may look at you ; don't leave me now, our time is precious, you know." BARBARA HOFLAND. 107 I shall always grieve that I was not longer with hiin, but so considerate was he for me, that I had almost a difficulty in obtaining leave to stay; he knew I was wanted at home by Mr. H., whose complaints were generally very painful, but who has derived great benefit from our present abode. We did think of coming into the north this summer for some time ; but H. gave it up, because he feared the return of his complaint, and thought he had better keep near home. . . . I have had many kind letters from Miss Edgeworth, Miss Mitford, Mr. Montgomery, and many others, as you may suppose ; for all who knew my son admired him for his active benevolence, and the very superior tone of his conversation. Indeed he was a man of wonderful knowledge, considering his years (thirty- four), and the way in which the last seven or eight had been occupied. Never was a minister more lamented than he is in his own parish, I may say by both poor and rich ; and by this time the rector knows what he has lost in such a curate. Mr. Hofland begs his kind regards to you and Mrs. Ramsay— pray render mine acceptable also ; I still hope to know you both person- ally, in addition to that knowledge of you which has already taught me to love and esteem you. Farewell, dear Sir ; unlike to me, may your children and children's children close your eyes, and bless your memory — nevertheless / can thank God most sincerely 108 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF that I was permitted to perform the last offices for my son, seeing it was best for him, who deserved all I could do and far more. I am, dear Mr. Kamsay, Your faithful friend, Barbara Hofland. This was the outpouring of a devotedly affec- tionate heart, bereaved of its greatest earthly treasure, yet bowing with resignation to the will of Him who gave, and who had taken away, and whose name she still blessed. She long dwelt upon her son's memory with vivid, and often melancholy, though never with discontented, feeling. The following allusion to him I find in a letter received from her many months afterwards, along with one from Mr. Hofland : — Dear Mr. Ramsay, I cannot allow a letter to go to you, for whom I have such sincere respect, without a line from myself. I trust that you, and those most dear to you, continue well. Happily Mr. Hofland is wonderfully better since we came to live in the country, and my own health certainly less interrupted than it has been for years, which may be owing to my having less of that wearing anxiety for my precious son, which was, for some years, almost unceasing ; for he was never well, and always BARBARA HOFLAND. 109 thought the asthma would take him off in a moment. It was a year on Sunday since he did his last duty at the church, when the last words he said were, " The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ knoweth that I lie not." You will forgive me for recurring to him (who is always uppermost), for you have felt for me, and will feel for me. . . . Pray present me most kindly to Mrs. Ramsay, and with every good wish, believe me, my dear Sir, Your faithful friend, B. HOFLAND. 6, Pembroke Square, Kensington, Feb. 4, 1834. It may be added, with reference to Mr. Hoole — as a proof that even a mother's affection and par- tiality had not overrated his excellence as a devoted minister of the Church — that the parishioners of St. Andrew's came forward with alacrity to pro- vide some suitable memorial of one they so much esteemed. A handsome monument was erected in the sacred edifice, testifying their appreciation of his worth, in these words : — " Here lie the remains of the Eev. Frederick Parker Hoole, who departed this life March 16th, 1833, aged 34 years. He was a man of superior in- tellect, inflexible integrity, active charity, and sincere 110 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF piety. Tried by severe misfortune, and great bodily sufferings, he sustained the burden of life without a murmur, and resigned it thankfully, being full of faith and hope in his Redeemer.*'' Mr. Hoole was the author of Conversations on Evidences of Christianity, and School Examina- tions. The deep religious feeling evinced by Mrs. Hofland when smarting under the affliction, and awed by the presence of death, was no sudden and temporary excitement, but the habitual tone of her mind, though at other and ordinary times sobered, subdued, and always studious to avoid display. The description she gives of one of her own cha- racters, in her tale of Decision, w T ould apply closely to herself: — " With these lessons, which are only the outward adornments of the structure, it will be readily believed that such a woman never fails to inculcate the pure precepts of religious morality, the true heroism of self- renunciation, the wisdom of integrity, the dignity of self-control, and the necessity many situations in life present for acting with firmness, resolution, and per- severance. Her mind stored by observation, and mellowed by time, she yet seldom touches on the sub- ject without earnestly intreating her hearers to guard themselves from mistaking obstinacy of temper for BARBARA HOFLAND. Ill firmness of mind, — to remember, that in early life, submission and obedience are virtues more generally demanded than those of a sterner character, and that woman, through life, is generally called upon to prac- tise them. ' Yes/ she will add, ' woman, as an intel- lectual and accountable being, gifted with reason, and capable of exertion, the first guide of man's infancy, the general influencer of his youth, and the companion of his manhood, ought to be no stranger to the import- ance nor the practice of any virtue demanded by our common nature ; and, whether relatively or indivi- dually considered, cannot fail to find that her virtue and her happiness must depend on her decision.'" That Mrs. Hofland possessed all these virtues, her whole life and conduct bore indisputable evi- dence. She not only knew her duties, but prac- tised them. Of her, as of another of her own creations, which we find in her tale of Fortitude, it might be said: — " She felt at this period of her sad history, that it would have been sweet to die, sweet to quit for ever that which she had indeed found to be a world of trouble, and throw herself, in humble hope and perfect resignation, on the mer- cies of her Eedeemer, who was Himself made flesh that He might be touched with the infirmities of frail and suffering humanity. But when, in hap- pier moments, she allowed reason to predominate 112 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF over feeling, she saw clearly that a principle of vitality was still strong in her frame, which though delicate was healthy, that the path of duty was that of useful, and even yet (to a certain degree) happy existence. He who had said, 6 1 will not break the bruised reed,"' could yet render her again that which she had been. . . . Surely, whatever might be her own erring wishes, she had not c so learned Christ,"' as to shrink from the cup it was the will of her Heavenly Father that she should drink/' The influence of such feelings was ever pre- sent with her, and was always yielded to, with earnestness, though with moderation. Perhaps in none of her writings has she given expression to them more quietly, yet forcibly, than in the following Essay, which has come into my hands, and which will be read, I doubt not, with both pleasure and profit by those who can appreciate the solemn realities of this mortal state of exist- ence in its relation to another and an eternal life: — NOVEMBER. "Farewell to November !" said I, on the last day of that gloomy month, with a sensation of pleasure which was certainly ungrateful ; for the November of the present year has been less gloomy than many of his BARBARA HOFLAND. 1 1 3 predecessors ; he has neither pierced us with cold, deluged us with rain, nor covered us with fogs ; but, on the whole, brought us gently forward to that season which, though it may be expected to bring us more severity, is yet associated with cheerful ideas. These ideas arise less to the reflective mind from conceiving that December brings us to the end of the year, and its wintry horrors, than from the recollection that it presents us with the commemoration of that holy festi- val which opens to our view a heavenly, an everlasting summer. Indeed, contemplate the season of the year in what light we may, it will never quit the mind, without forcing upon us a comparison which, however fre- quently repeated, can never be deemed " stale or un- profitable". We compare our lives with the season ; the falling leaf to the decaying frame ; and every gloomy day and sighing wind, bring home to us the conviction, that the winter of age is either now placing his blighting hand on our head, or those of our beloved parents, or protecting friends. Even when health and activity are still spared, symptoms like the russet grass, and yellowing foliage, thrust themselves perforce on our attention ; the whitening locks, the lisping speech, the serious or fixed look, which tells that the days of dimples and laughter are gone by, all remind us that the autumn of life is upon us, or before us, and that winter and death are at the door. 8 114 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF This consideration is awful and affecting, but not necessarily appalling, or even alarming. The young are not called upon to deem it the day they should tremble to meet, nor the declining that under which they are authorized to shrink. We have heard many declare, " that they actually found it the happiest period of their existence" ; and it is certainly that to which we all look as the period of rest from toil, of enjoyment and improvement from leisure, and the cultivation of those affections which best solace the cares, and add sweetness to the comforts of life. He who has with difficulty struggled to maintain or aggrandize his family, looks to the hour when his children's children shall play around him and be to him objects of delight, which, in the days of their father's infancy, he was too busy to enjoy. Every man expects, naturally and justly, if conscious that he has merited them, " the observances," the troops of friends, "the stability of property," the well-earned quiet or im- portant activity, which " should accompany old age" ; and therefore such a state, even if interspersed with " the ills which flesh is heir to," yet by no means justifies repining discontent under it, or unmanly fears of its arrival. Grey hairs are honourable, and we may add endearing too, since we ever find affection, as well as esteem, accompany the regard which the good grandfather and the kind master excites, whilst he holds his own place in society and assumes his own BARBARA HOFLAND. 115 rank there : it is only when he deserts himself that he is deserted by others. The comforts of old age itself have been wisely and beautifully pourt rayed in a little work by the late Sir Thomas Barnard, which every person, young or old, should have near him, as a sacred and heart- reviving cordial, which we are authorized to taste in every moment of melancholy. This period may be indeed termed the December of life ; and being the one when winter is fully established, his power positively defined, and his end clearly descried, it is, we appre- hend, less oppressive to the spirits than the years which preceded it, with their constant changes, and more sensible gradations. Besides, the senses, the faculties, and the affections, are to a certain degree blunted, impaired, or weaned, in even the happiest old age, by an evidently merciful arrangement in the nature of man ; who thus feels the losses which now increase upon him less in proportion to his own strength to bear them. Whereas in the autumn of life, sensibility is equally poignant, or in many cases more so, than in the morning of life, with that hope and buoyancy which are then its unfailing accompaniments. Happy then are they, who, on stepping into this season of gloom and solicitude, fix their steady and grateful eye on that glorious subject of contemplation, and source of hope, presented to us at the close of the natural year. The birth of the Saviour, " who came 116 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF to bring life and immortality to light," duly and deeply considered, as the Mediator between God and man, is indeed a sufficient argument against those sinkings of the soul, or startlings from impending fate, which naturally pervade all who are sensible of an immediate approach to the confines of existence. The vain parade of a cold philosophy, the unsubstantial promises of physical fortitude, and habitual reasoning, are seen and felt to give way continually, in men of the highest pretensions and minds of the most dignified powers ; but it may be truly said — " Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death, And lands us safely on the further shore." The hopes, the privileges, even the sorrows of a Christian, as such, all tend to bestow solid comfort on the sincere and humble ; and such they will inevitably become who study the volume of divine revelation in a spirit of prayer, since every page bears the im- pression w r hich reproves his sins, reveals the weakness of his nature, and eventually leads him to the great Physician. Let, then, the lately busy, ambitious man, who is sensible that with his long- sought riches and leisure, is arrived also the painful sense that life is waning fast, that the days are approaching in which " his soul shall say I have no pleasure in them" ; let him look earnestly and diligently for that knowledge which fadeth not with the year or the life — for that BARBARA HOFLAND. 117 treasure which shall sustain him in the moments when nature sinks, and neither skill can restore, nor affection console him. The Psalmist prayed wisely (and naturally in our opinion) that " he might recover his strength before he went hence, and was no more seen" ; and in the days when we are descending the hill, to obtain the light and strength which may support us when we actually approach "the valley of the shadow of death," is indeed a blessing — it is to carry our lamp trimmed and shining when we go forth to meet the bridegroom — to beautify infirmity and dignify death, by that wedding garment which admits us to eternal happiness. B. H. 118 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF CHAPTER VI. MRS. HOFLAND AND THE WORLD OF LETTERS — HER SELECT CIRCLE LETTERS RELATIVE THERETO HER GENEROSITY AND CHARITY TOWARDS SISTER POETS BROTHER POETS SHEFFIELD AND ITS POETS. Notwithstanding the generally quiet, and often secluded course of her life, Mrs. Hofland always appeared to be well-informed upon everything which w r as passing in the busy world around her, and especially in that department of it which she regarded with the Greatest interest — the world of letters and of art. Her society, it is true, was much sought by those who had it in their power to administer to the pleasure which she derived from this source ; and select though that private circle was, to which she in a great measure con- fined herself for several years, she found that it furnished her with all she wished to know or to en- joy, either of the world of London, or the world at large. The following letter — of which the month BARBARA HOFLAND. 119 but not the year is given — will shew how much she enjoyed society of that kind, and how great, yet how gentle, were her powers of observation. 2, Ormond Row, Richmond. September 10th. Dear Mr. Ramsay, — I cannot allow Mr. Holland to visit Cumberland without writing a few lines to you, who have always been so kind and attentive to me. I have been, and am still, you will see, at Rich- mond, where my health has received great benefit. Livers in London must have change of air, or we never could get on at all I have, since I came here, formed an acquaintance with Miss Mary Anne Browne, whose poems you have seen in the Literary Gazette and elsewhere. She is the most extraordinary instance of precocious talent I have ever heard of ; and along with it, is a most engaging, simple, unaffected girl ; yet so full of animation, as to give you a lively idea, in every word she utters, of the Italian Improvisatrice, having, indeed, much the per- son, as well as mind, of that country : pretty, but dark, with black hair and hazel eyes. Her father told me "she talked perfectly well at sixteen months old" ; of any time when she could not read she has scarcely a recollection ; she learnt when she was about two years old. At five some one (they were fools, by the bye) gave her the Paradise Lost, which she read with avidity, but became so terrified and interested by the ] 20 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Satan, that her sleep was haunted, and her mind ha- rassed so as to injure her health. At this time she wrote verses, though she had not learned to join her letters in writing ; her father has some curious speci- mens of this faculty in her copy-books. At twelve, her first long poem, Ada, was written, but not pub- lished till she was fourteen, when it appeared with several things better than it; they all are beautiful and polished, indicating extensive reading, pure taste, and poetic conception. She is, I understand, a good classical scholar, and it is certain she is a modest, amiable, affectionate daughter and sister, not a bit spoiled by the praise she has elicited. She is now seventeen. We have had Miss Jewsbury in London, and most wonderfully has she been admired and run after (con- sidering how much talent is afloat in the world) ; she might have been a beauty as well as a wit, from the incense offered by the men, who, generally speaking, crowd around the pretty one in preference to the clever one, to begin with, at least ; but she is a fine young- woman, with a very intellectual countenance. On her arrival it was evident she considered herself tres dis- tingue, and looked down on us poor creatures in town, as mites on our own mole hill ; but by degrees this idea gave place to a better, and she became very agree- able even to women. She is a very superior-minded person, and, in my opinion, has by no means reached BARBARA HOFLAND. 121 her own power as a writer of stories, good as her Three Histories are generally deemed ; and she is a beautiful writer of verses. Previous to our 'seeing her, Mr. and Mrs. H were in town; they are "Friends", you know, and both very sweet writers in the annuals, and both good and agreeable. He has not any thing of the Quaker in his personal appearance, but she is so, decidedly, yet with an air of ease and gentility, of just sufficient fashion to banish stiffness. None of these common-place terms, however, ought to enter one's vocabulary in speaking of so sweet a creature as Mary H . She has all the simplicity of a child, the enthusiasm of a poet, and the quiet good sense of a wife and mother ; whilst true Christian piety throws over all her lively manners and conversation a kind of veil, that softens and beautifies that which is already engaging, I shall always regret that I saw so little of her ; she was one evening at Mrs. Hall's when I met her, and the next day she came to see me for one hour ; it was the day of her departure. No person has attracted so much attention in London as Mr. R - the portrait painter. It is his misfor- tune that, though young, handsome, clever, and an Irishman, he is absolutely too modest. Timidity operates in every thing, his powers as a painter are often injured by it ; but he will nevertheless be a very great one. 122 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF And now, dear Mr. Ramsay, farewell. Pray make my kind regards to Mrs. Ramsay (whom I picture in my mind as a good deal like Mary H ). "Write to me when you can, and believe me, with every good wish, Your faithful friend and servant, B. Hofland. It must strike every reader of Mrs. Holland's letters, how free they are from that idle and often mischievous gossip, which is apt to pervade the most friendly correspondence, more particularly when the characters and attainments of individuals are discussed. She uses no reserve in doing this: there is the utmost freedom of thought, and plain- ness of expression ; but not a hint, or an idea that is spiteful, or even disparaging; — all is generosity and charity. Poets have been described as " the jealous, waspish, w 7 rong-headed, rhyming race."" But assuredly our poetess was not one of these. In the letter just given, she speaks of three sister poets, all of them competitors in the race for literary favour, or, at any rate, rivals in the pro- fession of authorship ; yet not one word, not one thought, is indulged, of slight or envy ; all is kind, benevolent, and liberal. One gifted lady here mentioned — Mrs. S. C. Hall, with whom Mrs. Hofland lived on terms of the closest friendship BARBARA HOFLAND. 123 for many years, bears glowing and truthful testi- mony to her amiable character in that respect. " At one time/' Mrs. Hall observes, " when in her literary capacity she had the power of thwarting those whom a less generous mind might have con- sidered rivals in the race of fame, her pen was ever first and freest in supporting the feeble, and bringing forward obscure merit. This, perhaps, a less honest critic would have done ; but Mrs. Hofland did more. She paid an eager tribute to, and aided to augment, the reputation of those whose fame was eclipsing her own — the true test of a noble mind. I once observed this to her ; and what was her reply ? e Ay, may be so ; I have had my day, and my sun will set all the hap- pier, from a knowledge that a brighter and better will rise on the morrow/ " But from writers of her own sex, let us turn to brother poets. Her native town, as we have seen, was " classic Sheffield", and poetry had gained it that appellation : for it had a band of poets peculiarly its own, with one of whom — the gifted and estimable James Montgomery — Mrs. Hofland was upon terms of warm friendship, and whose genius and piety she ever held in the high- est reverence. 124 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF " Kindness by secret sympathy is tied, For noble souls by nature are allied." And so it was in this case. The respect, the affection, were reciprocal. Mrs. Holland has re- corded her sentiments of him as a poet and as a man, so forcibly and so justly, in the following original paper, that I shall insert it in this place without further preamble :— . SHEFFIELD AND ITS POETS. " After all, the bard of Sheffield is a man of considerable genius." — Byron. Whoever has resided even a short time in any part of the environs of this,* the most rapidly increasing town perhaps in His Majesty's dominions, will acknow- ledge that they do not know a more beautiful country. Its fine inequalities of hill and dale, richly wooded, and watered alike by rivers and lucid springs ; its horizons of high heath-covered moors, and mountainous ridges, are singularly fine on every side of Sheffield ; and the town itself, with its handsome churches, and obelisk- looking chimneys, is the most picturesque place I am * It appears from the last census, that Sheffield has nearly trebled its number of inhabitants in the present century. BARBARA HOFLAND. 125 acquainted with on a Sunday. Beyond that day of rest it can be but little seen at all ; but spreads over the hilly ground on which it lies, a broad mass of black vapour, beneath which we are apt to wonder that human beings can exist. It is yet certain that the " bane and antidote are both before us," since its smoke is the cause of its wealth and population ; and every well-wisher to the place must deprecate the hour when the air is clear, and the streets free from coal dust ; when the sound of heavy hammers, and the tinkling of iron bars, is heard no longer in the land. It is well known that those sons of Vulcan who con- stitute the main bulk of Sheffield, have a great pre- dilection for hammering out new constitutions on the anvil of liberty, or at least battering to pieces old ones, which must be allowed to be an easier occupation. Of course the elective franchise was received as an inesti- mable gift among them, and has already conferred on several the honour of dying in their country's cause, and inspired others with the property our great mo- ralist liked, of being "good haters"; for that quality which was wont to render burgesses of rotten boroughs the keen and malicious partizans of blue, or orange, ribbons, from generation to generation, is leavening society here also. Alas ! how will it multiply the woes of many a luckless Eomeo, and many a lovely Juliet, who will have to rue the day when their unfeeling fathers, in their passion for making Members of their 123 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF town, forgot the gentler passions of members of their family : — ah ! how often will it prove " a plague on both your houses". Most happily, there is a strong counterbalancing spirit in the town of Sheffield to all that is violent and malignant, in its widely-pervading religious principles, and consequent moral habits ; otherwise, the political mania would be scarcely more endurable than the flames of its furnaces, for although acute and intel- ligent, capable of reading and of conversing on what they read, the lower orders of Sheffield are not there- fore conceding or amiable. If ever " a little learning is dangerous", it is so to the manners, since it very frequently adds more to self-importance than know- ledge : peculiarly valuable therefore to such men, and to those who must associate with them, is that instruc- tion which teaches us, along with higher duties, to " be courteous" and meek. Sheffield has a few historic recollections of great interest : — hither came Wolsey, a broken-hearted man, to eat, as it afterwards proved, his last supper ; and here long resided Mary of Scotland as a prisoner, her time being divided between Sheffield Castle, which stood where the principal inn now stands, and the Manor House, a beautiful country seat of the Earl of Shrewsbury's, of which a tower, where she often sate, is still standing. It overlooks a tract of country so beautiful, that one cannot fail to think it must have BARBARA HOFLAND. 127 enhanced the pains of captivity to gaze on so wide and fair a scene, nor can we doubt that many a hope, awakened but to be destroyed, must have visited the bosom of that unhappy queen whilst confined within so fair, yet apparently so fragile, a prison. Had Sheffield boasted such poets as now grace its dark dwellings, and throw a lustre on its cloudy at- mosphere, how much most thrillingly interesting might they not have transmitted to us of the workings of her powerful mind ? As widow, wife, and mother — as woman, peerless in beauty — as % sovereign, bereft of a crown, yet still capable of enchaining all hearts, — what agonizing recollections, what self-sustaining consola- tions, from time to time, must have risen upon her bosom— and who more fitted to breathe her musings than he who has told us : — " I gave my harp to sorrow's hand, And she has ruled its chords so long, They will not move at my command, They only tremble to her song." Most happily this is no longer the case. Montgomery is now not only a poet in full possession of fame, and commanding the most extensive circle of readers* that * Mr. Montgomery's works are read universally in what is called the "religious world", which refuses its suffrage to many other poets ; and they are not the less circulated among more general readers. 128 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF an j poet can boast, but he is justly appreciated as a good man, of extraordinary capabilities, by his towns- men and the country at large. Nature, as if seconding the tardy justice of man in redeeming the past, has rendered him the very youngest man of his years ever beheld, for had he not been known to the world as a poet thirty years, we really think he might at this very time pass for thirty, such is the slightness of his figure, the elasticity of his step, the smoothness of his fair brow, the mobility and playfulness of his features, when in conversation. This circumstance, it is true, makes a great difference — the lighting-up of Mont- gomery's eye in those moments when he is warmed by his subject, or induced to smile by others, is absolutely electrical. Unfortunately this beautiful adjunct to his eloquence is rarely enjoyed by those who are so for- tunate as to attend his lectures, in consequence of that habit of looking down induced by his naturally modest and retiring mind, at all times reluctant in disclosing its treasured stores of knowledge, or communicating the discoveries of its genius. I was unfortunate in the period of my visit to Shef- field, it being that of the conference of the Wesleyan Methodists, in consequence of which there was a great influx of strangers connected with that body, and as every one either calls on the great poet, or in some way angles for his company, who consider themselves more particularly entitled to the claim of Christian BARBARA HOFLAND. 129 brotherhood, no wonder that at such a time he was half-killed with engagements and harassed with ho- mage — to this were added charity bazaars, public meet- ings on bills in parliament, and petitions from the Church — all of which rendered him the busiest of the busy, transforming the gentle poet into the'public man, — so much the more must my heart thank him for the dear and valuable hour which he bestowed on me. Whether the exclusives of Sheffield (whom I under- stand to be a most unapproachable body) court the society of the bard, I know not, but it is at least certain he will not court them. With the world, as to its gauds and luxuries, he has nothing to do ; but with its sorrows, ignorance, and want, he is continually en- gaged ; and when Sir Eobert Peel, to his own im- mortal honour, marked the sense himself and his coun- trymen entertained of Montgomery's merit, he only added to his power of benefiting his fellow-creatures, for of personal indulgence in expenditure he has un- questionably no idea. But I must speak of Sheffield's latest wonder, the author of " Corn Law Khyrues"; and well does he merit attention, for surely his muse has proved, " That Denham's strength and Waller's sweetness join" in every poem he has produced, although it must be allowed that he is a very unequal writer. Indeed to whom will not the charge apply? For boldness of 9 130 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF conception, strength and grandeur of language, and not less for true pathos, and all those tendernesses which belong to the best affections of the heart, he stands nearly alone, perhaps wholly so ! It is at least certain Burns never equalled him, and Byron never exceeded him, in th6se particular qualities wherein both have been deemed admirable : it is not less true that his violence of opinion degenerates into coarseness of ex- pression ; and that either from rapidity in composition, or deficiency in taste (a circumstance perfectly com- patible with the most brilliant genius), he has scarcely given us one poem so perfect as he might have done. The exquisite delicacy and finished beauty of his de- scriptions are such as to indispose the mind for bearing these contrasts, and perhaps, like Cowley, many readers might find, — " He more had pleas'd them, had he pleased them less." For myself, T am willing and thankful to take him as he is — gems like his are welcome, be they mixed as they may. Who that has read his description of the preacher on the banks of the Eivelin — of the country through which that river wanders — of Mary's angelic beauty as given by Bothwell in his prison— even the " Wonders of the Lane" and various other poems published in the New Monthly Magazine, can hesitate to pronounce him impassioned, yet gentle — powerful in sentiment, and harmonious in numbers. BARBARA HOFLAND* 131 Very false ideas have gone forth in the world re- specting the education and situation of Mr. Elliott; the lovers of the wonderful having chosen to describe him as being devoid of the former, and very low in the latter. They are, happily for himself and his con- nexions, entirely wrong ; he was as well educated as other sons of tradesmen were, and are, in general in that part of the country which he inhabits, and he has been long in possession of an excellent business which he attends to with diligence and prosecutes with spirit; so that although the father of a large family of sons, he is well able to support them all, and further their views in life in the manner a truly affectionate father and most attached husband would desire. His business is carried on in the town, but his dwelling-house is one of the prettiest suburban villas in the neighbourhood, surrounded by a large and beautiful garden, of which he is very fond, and where doubtless his mind fre- quently broods over " those sweet and bitter fancies" which emanate in his poetry. Mr. Elliott's countenance bespeaks deep thought and an enthusiastic temperament — his overhanging brow is stern to awfulness, but the lower part of his face indi- cates mildness and benevolence, and his voice is gentle, yet full and sonorous. Undoubtedly he speaks well in public, for he has great command of words, and abun- dant imagery, to aid his rapid and eloquent delivery; but I am told that in the intenseness of his prejudices, 132 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF he becomes so subject to violent denunciation and groundless abuse, as to deteriorate the effect of his de- clamations surprisingly. In mixed company he is calm and agreeable, and in those moments when a tete-a-tete was practicable, I found his conversation profoundly interesting, for he was suffering as a father about to lose a dear and pro- mising, but long-declining, son. It is a remarkable fact, and one that speaks volumes for the domestic cha- racter of this poet, that none of his seven sons could be induced to leave the paternal mansion until lately that one has become a student at Cambridge ; since then he has determined to go into the Church, to which his father does not object, severely as he reprobates priests and nobles in general. Would that some benevolent fairy could charm down the political asperities, the undiscriminating zeal, of a heart betrayed even by its benevolence into false con- clusions and unmerited anger — so would the kindlier feelings of his nature be as apparent to the world as they evidently are to those near connexions who can appreciate them most justly. Besides these planets, Sheffield boasts other stars, of no ordinary lustre in the hemisphere of poesy. Mr. Rhodes, the author of " Peak Scenery", in his young days, wrote a tragedy, and several short poems of great merit. Mr. Holland, the author of the " Hopes of Matrimony", " Sheffield Park", etc., is well known to BARBARA HOFLAND. 133 the public, and highly estimated. Mr. Heaton the barrister (also a Sheffield man), published a very pleasing volume of poems ; and Miss Roberts has re- peatedly proved her right to high consideration. In- deed there has long been a vein of Parnassan ore worked in this district. About a century since, Caw- thorne (a native) published a small but in many respects elegant volume of poetry, and Hoole, the translator of Tasso and Metastasio, though born in Moor-fields, as being immediately descended from a family long settled in a village appertaining to Shef- field, has a right to be considered one of its worthies. Of its prose writers none have attained much ce- lebrity, save Mr. Rhodes in the above-named work, and Mr. Samuel Bailey in various highly esteemed ones ranking him with our first authors ; if we except that truly useful and long widely diffused book, Buchan's Domestic Medicine, which was written by the doctor in the house where Mr. Montgomery has always re- sided. To these distinctions on the part of a town sneer- ingly denominated " classic Sheffield" in the satirical and regretted poem of Lord Byron, we may add the remarkable circumstance of its possessing two sculptors now in the Royal Academy. Every one knows that Sir Francis Chantrey was born in this neighbourhood, and brought up in a town justly proud of him; but Charles Rossi, Esq., the son of a surgeon in Sheffield, 134 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF being a man much more advanced in life, is less fre- quently recollected by his townsmen. In the person of Mr. Edward Law, a young artist of great promise, it is probable that similar honours will be continued — a circumstance the more remarkable because Sheffield has done less to encourage the fine arts than many places of inferior wealth and importance. Mr. Eamsay, an excellent portrait painter, and Mr. Sylvester (the truly great experimental philosopher), were also Sheffield men, but like the great sculptor, sought fame and fortune in a more genial soil — prophets here (as elsewhere) finding little honour in their own country. On the whole, Sheffield may be termed a very ad- mirable place, for it lies in the midst of a country fair and fruitful as the Garden of Eden, is blest with a salubrious air, notwithstanding the smoke, and enjoys all the good things of life at a very moderate expense. The nature of its trade happily prevents the accumu- lation of those overgrown fortunes we find in many commercial towns, whilst it diffuses wealth in due pro- portion to the employer of capital and the workmen he employs. This due reward of industry is diffused most happily through the country also, the husbandman here generally receiving, I found, half-a-crown or three shillings a day, with luncheon'; whereas, in the south and much of the west of England, our half-starved BARBARA HOFLAND. 135 peasantry, with high rents and scanty fuel, enjoy scarcely half this remuneration for equal toil.* The various schools for the education of the humbler classes are admirably managed, the parochial affairs well and generously conducted, and the various mi- nisters of religion most happily united in their endea- vours to do good through every possible medium. The town possesses an extensive library, a noble infirmary, a beautiful music hall, a well arranged museum (under the keepership of Mr. Holland the poet), a Mechanics' Institution, and Horticultural Society, and publishes three well edited weekly papers. Were it not for the aristocratical spirit (not persons) which turns many of the young and pretty out of their assembly rooms, and the radical spirit which seeks to turn out everything everywhere, it would unquestionably be a jewel of a place, albeit shrouded, like the morn of Milton, in a " comely cloud". But " pride was not made for man 5 ', nor " perfec- tion" for scenes where " man doth congregate" to the * In this neighbourhood the arrival of Irish labourers is hailed as a blessing, whereas in many places it is deplored as a curse. These wanderers in search of work and food, associate in one narrow street, inhabited by their country- men ; and it is only justice to add, that although huddled together in considerable numbers, their conduct here is quiet, honest, and orderly. 136 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF amount of a hundred thousand : when these, with all their arts and industry, their political bickerings and steady friendships, their wealth and their misfortunes, are gone down to the dust, and the place they now occupy in honour and happiness shall " know them no more", yet shall they not descend like those who have preceded them to oblivion. No ! as contemporaries of Montgomery and Elliott — as those who have perhaps for many years " walked in the house of God as friends" with the former, and gazed in admiration at the comet-like glories of the latter, they will share (at due distance) the fame which after ages will inevit- ably grant to both. •e ■ BARBARA HOFLAND. 137 CHAPTER VII. MRS. HOFLAND'S ATTACHMENT TO ART — HER HIGH OPI- NION OF HER HUSBAND'S PICTURES NOT APPRECI- ATED BY HIM — HIS VISITS TO THE GREAT — "A HUSBAND'S WELCOME HOME" HER QUALIFICATIONS FOR JUDGING OF ART — HER INTEREST IN ARTISTS BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ONE — A ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. It was not in literature only that Mrs. Holland took a deep interest, nor was her sympathy con- fined to the proverbial vicissitudes of those who, like herself, laboured with the pen. The wife of an artist, and devotedly attached to his interests, as well as warmly sympathizing in his tastes, the world of art also shared her constant attention. 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 repeat- ing. " Of his pictures," she observes in a com- 138 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF munication to the Art Journal, " it does not be- come me to speak ; they belong, perhaps, some- what 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 preten- sion, yet not of poetry, which secures admirers among congenial minds, and enables them to gaze with calm delight on the interesting pictures of Hofland." 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 knew 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 do- mestic habits, and the most pleasing and interest- ing powers of social conversation — disregarded, despised, and abused." But this affected her not. She bore it all with the meekness and resignation BARBARA HOFLAND. 139 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 excellence — so anxious, even while the flush of outraged feeling was burning on her cheek, to exhibit the bright side of his character to her most 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 constantly- bringing into active work the charity that 'beareth all things, endureth all things, hopeth 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 associ- ations, one or other, and occasionally all of these, brought him much in contact with the great and the gay; and weeks, nay sometimes months toge- ther, 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 : — 140 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF A HUSBAND'S WELCOME HOME. They tell me, love, that thou hast 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 Em ploy' d thy hours — prolong 1 d thy stay, That thou wert held by flattery's tongue, And bent to beauty's magic sway. Well ! be it so — thou 'rt mine again — And if thy heart did melt awhile 'Neath syren 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 hast but 'waked my fond alarms, To make my heart more gratified. B. H. Her qualifications for writing about art and artists were naturally great — nay, almost pre- eminent. Her own fine taste had been highly improved by its contact with her husband's, whose great professional talents and accomplishments all who knew him and his works were constrained to BARBARA HOFLAND. 141 acknowledge. She knew by constant observation, if not almost by experience, that style in painting is the same as in writing ; an influence over the materials employed — colours in this case — words in the other — by which conceptions or sentiments may be conveyed. She was conscious, too, of the truth and force of what Sir Joshua Reynolds enjoined when he said : — " However the mechanic and the ornamental arts may sacrifice to fashion, it must be entirely excluded from the art of painting ; the painter must never mistake this capricious change- ling for the genuine offspring of nature ; he must divest himself of all prejudice in favour of his age and country ; he must disregard all local and tem- porary ornaments, and look only on those general habits which are everywhere and always the same ; he addresses his works to the people of every country ; he calls upon posterity to be his specta- tors, and says with Zeuxis, in etemitatem pingo" The poet felt all this as strongly as the painter. If there was one point in art upon which, more than another, they were agreed, it was that. And hence her happy fitness to be the helpmate of such a man. Strange — and pitiful as strange — that it should not have been appreciated, responded to, or respected ! Her interest in artists was very great. She had 142 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF quite a fellow-feeling with them, and would make any sacrifice to encourage and assist the young and friendless aspirant. An unpublished memoir of one of these, which I shall here present, evinces this feeling very plainly. She only knew him through her husband's report; and we see how readily she must have caught the inspiration, to have enabled her to pourtray his character, and state his case, as she has done. Besides being a fine piece of writing, it is a most interesting piece of biography — forming, indeed, quite a romance in real life. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE LATE THOMAS WALKER, ESQ. " Surely, sir, There's in hirn stuff that puts him to these ends : The force of his own merit makes his way." — Shakespeare. It has been asserted by Dr. Johnson that genius is no other than " a mind with strong powers accidentally directed to some particular object", and since his time many have supported this opinion ; yet as facts are more stubborn things than the aphorisms of philo- sophers, we may be allowed to doubt the truth of an assertion seldom confirmed by observation and expe- rience. AYe can neither read the lives of eminent men in days past, nor examine the circumstances of those BARBARA HOFLAND. 143 around us, without perceiving that where the qualities of the mind run high, and those more ennobling traits appear, which we designate genius, there is also a pre- dominant taste, a fine perception of excellence in some given object of pursuit, by which the man is led to a determinate pursuit on which his powers may expand their strength, and prove their claim to superiority. We apprehend that although his early death una- voidably cut off the proofs of his power, few men have ever existed who could with more justice lay claim to the title of u a man of genius" than the subject of the present memoir. Others have by talents and perse- verance risen from the pressure of poverty, the impe- diments of adverse circumstances, to the path in which they were ordained to shine, but Walker did much more — he abandoned the solid comforts, the luxuries, and the elegancies of life, and that which to a man of his sensibility was a far stronger tie, the approbation of parents whom he tenderly loved and deeply venerated, that he might devote himself to the study of painting, with the zeal of a proselyte, and the courage of a martyr. Our young enthusiast was the eldest son of a person of large property and considerable importance in the neighbourhood of Nottingham. Mr. Walker, sen. was a man of much general knowledge, a clever mathema- tician, and celebrated for his mechanical acquirements, which were beneficially applied in conducting extensive 144 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF collieries. These were not only a source of much wealth to himself, but they opened an extensive source of advantage to his sons, in which not only profit, but the enjoyment of great local importance, must be added to that of an honourably acquired fortune. To this end he looked especially, in the education of his eldest son, whose mind he cultivated with the most sedulous care, and whose acknowledged abilities promised to extend his flourishing concerns to their utmost possible value. We know not at what precise period of his life young Walker shewed that decided predilection for painting which coloured his future existence, but we apprehend that he was about nineteen when he first broached the idea of devoting himself to it as a profes- sion. This he did with the humility which became him as a son, yet with a firmness which proceeded from the consciousness of talent, and the entire devotion of a mind smitten with the fascinations of art. Unhappily neither the gentleness of his pleadings, the affection of his nature, nor the abilities of which he gave proof, could induce the father to listen to his plans and wishes. His own views were thwarted, his hopes blighted, and even his pride wounded by the idea; for though a man of scientific pursuit, he had never consi- dered the nature or value of the fine arts, and having lived all his life in the country, in ignorance alike of their professors and patrons, he could not be brought to believe that his son, in the situation of an artist, BARBARA HOFLAND. 145 could fill that place in society which he held to be his due. In this state of his affairs young Walker took a step which was perhaps the wisest in his power; he ad- dressed a letter to the then President of the Royal Academy, Mr. West, describing his own ardent desires to become a painter, his father's objections, and re- questing advice how to proceed in order to gain know- ledge in the art to which he was devoted. On receiv- ing this letter, Mr. West immediately wrote to the father informing him that he had received such an ap- plication, inquiring " how far he could be brought to concede to the wishes of his son ? and offering his own assistance in furthering the plan." On the receipt of this epistle, the old gentleman became more angry than ever, and in his reply protested in such strong terms against his son for having proceeded so far in the matter, that Mr. West felt it his duty to inclose the letter to young Walker, and advise him to " think still further on the subject." But the die was now cast, the struggle was over, so far as related to choice, and the means of attaining his object had become the one great point to which his energies were bent. He now wrote to Sir William Beechey, informing him of his determination to seek in London the means of improving himself, and intreating his advice how to proceed, again candidly stating how he stood with his father. To this, Sir William (as 10 146 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF might be expected by those who knew him) replied in a courteous and friendly manner and encouraging strain, promising " to give him advice when he should see the progress he had made" — a promise he after- wards fulfilled. Most probably young "Walker left his father's house about the time when his minority ceased ; he came an entire stranger to London,, with a slenderly provided purse, and in a clandestine manner, but his spirits were sustained by the praises of Sir William Beechey and others on the sight of his pictures, and Mr. West, finding that he had broken through every impediment in pursuit of his object, not only prophesied that he would one day attain the eminence he sought, but gave him advice on many points where he was at a loss, and full permission to use his gallery. After a short time, it happened that the President had a commission for a copy of his large picture of the li Embassy of Lord Macartney," on which he employed Walker to make the outline for him. The facility and ability he displayed in this work extended his labours to the dead colouring, and in fact it went on by little and little, until the young student so nearly finished the picture, as to leave Mr. West only a few days' work upon it. For this labour (which consumed about eight months) he only received sixty guineas, but this sum was now become extremely welcome. Poor Walker had long ere this discovered that even with the BARBARA HOFLAND. 147 humblest lodging and the coarsest fare, there was in London a perpetual demand for money, and many, many times he had doubtless been ready to exclaim, — " how many servants in my father's house have bread and to spare, whilst I suffer from hunger!" yet was he not a " prodigal son." During this season of privation and suffering, — of that " hope deferred which maketh the heart sick," he had yet the consolation of forming one of those close and endearing friendships which are the amelioration of life's severest evils. Mr. Lonsdale (now well known as an eminent portrait painter) who was then about his own age (and like him a student), saw him in Mr. West's gallery, and invited him to his lodgings. He met there that gentleman's dearest friend, Mr. W. Collard (of the house of Clementi), and from that period his acquaint- ance with both, from congeniality of pursuit, talent, and disposition, became most singularly intimate and happy. They proved the truth of the wise man's assertion, " two are better than one, but a threefold cord is not quickly broken"; they were alike young, imaginative, and full of that ardour inseparable in early life from high intellect, and that sensibility which is " the milk of human kindness". To the former friends the stranger was an object of warm admiration and sincere affection, whilst his situation soon became one of the deepest interest. Like himself, they were both very young ; like him, they had the world to struggle with, but they 148 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF knew that world better than he did ; they could do that for him which he could not do for himself, and whilst the j proved that they could estimate him justly, and sympathise with him tenderly, never, never did he look to them for that occasional assistance he needed so much, in vain. About this period he frequently painted the orna- ments on pianofortes, which were procured for him by Mr. Collard, as the means of bread ; and many now in use bear this proof of his genius and his poverty. Whatever he undertook he did well to the utmost of his power, and even these trifles offer indubitable proofs of his fine conception, though the mechanism of his art was as yet imperfectly attained. He was equally par- tial to portrait painting and landscape, and like Gains- borough, promised to excel in both. In the former, he realized more of the colouring of Titian than we recol- lect seeing in any modern artist ; whilst in the latter, he displayed an intimate acquaintance with nature, a vigour of thought and luxuriance of imagination, which asked only for time to ensure success. During the period of his greatest difficulties, young Walker had lodged with a respectable widow in poor circumstances, who had an only daughter. It will not surprise any one read in the human heart to learn that he married this young person, nor could it be said that he thereby increased his difficulties, since his wife was not only amiable, but prudent, and managed his slender BARBARA HOFLAND. 149 finances so well, that his union could hardly be la- mented further than as it increased the breach between him and his father. After this time, however, the offended parent, through the medium of his mother, sometimes transmitted him a ten-pound note, which occasional remittance generally amounted to about forty pounds a year, though it never took the form of an annuity. Walker was an affectionate, attentive husband, and a tender father, and submitted cheerfully to the ob- scurity his confined circumstances imposed, but from which his friends sought to draw him ; and when through their medium he obtained a few commissions, and the pressure of his necessities was relieved in the most temporary manner, the buoyancy of his spirits returned; he became not only cheerful but sportive, and from his various information and conversational talents, was the charm of every social circle in which he appeared. Poor Walker had remained in this situation three or four years, when new and better prospects sud- denly opened upon him. Mr. Wilkes, the banker, a gentleman of large property and extensive connexions, sat to him for his portrait, which was engraved, and attracted much attention, in consequence of which he became our painter's liberal patron. Nor were his good offices confined to professional encouragement; for on learning his circumstances, he left no means 150 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF untried to reconcile him to his father. In truth, pa- rental tenderness had been long brooding in a kind of sullen affection over the self-exiled son ; and when in pursuit of the means of life, the painter had made an excursion to his own county, it was ascertained that several persons gave him commissions for their por- traits, to whom his father had presented the money with which they paid the son. The admiration these works excited, together with the praise given to those he had exhibited in London, so far affected a parent, who could now appreciate ability in whatever walk it existed, that at this period he actually called in ten thousand pounds, with the intention of settling it upon the long-abandoned artist ; but a determination to hide the affair from his family prevented him from imme- diately effecting his purpose. In the winter following, the long -cherished anger of the father gave way so far, that he invited his son to visit him; and gratefully, and immediately, was that invitation accepted, for the erring genius dearly loved and honoured his father and mother ; and it is worthy of remark, that neither in the hour of distress, nor that of relief, was he ever heard, by those friends who shared every thought of his heart, to utter a word of complaint or unkind reflection. His visit was delight- ful to him, as a restoration to his paternal home, and a promise of future restoration to paternal love ; but he found there was yet only a partial melting of the BARBARA HOFLAND. 151 father's heart towards him ; — the painter was forgiven, but not the husband, and he was permitted to return without any pecuniary assistance, although he was aware that his mother had laboured to procure him a present, knowing that his expenses at home were on the point of increase. The web of life is indeed " of a mingled yarn, good and ill together". Scarcely had Walker regained his father thus partially, when he lost his wife entirely. The kind and gentle being, the warm and considerate friend, who had soothed his first sorrows, and supplied his first wants, was taken from him, in giving birth to a son, within one week after his return to his own dwelling. The two helpless children she left, and whom he loved with all the tenderness so conspicuous in his character, were placed under the care of their maternal grandmother, — an excellent woman, to whom he always evinced the sincerest attachment. About two months after this severe shock, he was induced, by the persuasion of an acquaintance, to go to an oratorio, then performing at the theatre. The house was crowded, the heat excessive, but the night was one of such severe frost, that on coming out he caught a terrible cold, which fell upon his lungs, and produced violent inflammation the following day. His alarmed friends hastened to his assistance, procured the best medical help, and by every possible attention sought to arrest the progress of disease. On the 152 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF second night both sat up with him, and in the course of it placed him in the warm bath which had been prescribed, and which appeared to have every effect desired. Scarcely, however, had they left him, when every bad symptom returned, and he expired within an hour. When the father of this amiable and admirable young man learnt this sudden catastrophe, the severe grief which overwhelmed him rose almost to frenzy ; and long after the first agony had subsided, the bitter- ness of his remorse, the acuteness of his sorrow, re- mained undiminished. The same unyielding violence of temperament which had so pertinaciously alienated his first-born, now led him to idolize the son he had lost, even to a degree of injustice towards the son and daughter who were still left to him, and to heap upon his orphans that wealth of which he had refused even the smallest portion to their father in the hour of want. He sent immediately for the babes and their grandmother, on whom he settled a handsome annuity; he collected at any price every picture, and even sketch, which had been painted by his son ; and thus, in proving his value for his memory and talents, irre- parably crushed his rising fame, and left him without those memorials in the world, which would decidedly prove to posterity that it was no false estimate of his own powers, no idle fancy or rebellious desire, which rendered him a wanderer, and a sufferer, — but the BARBARA HOFLAND. 153 irresistible impetus of conscious power, the exercise of heaven's own gift of genius. It is in consequence of the disappearance of his works from the eye of the public, at a period when the fine arts are greatly extending in estimation, that we are induced to offer this unassuming but sincere tribute to his memory, and rescue from oblivion (so far as we are able) a name which must have gone down the stream of time with the noblest and best, had time been given to mature his talents and reveal his character. Mr. Walker died just as he reached the age of twenty-nine ; having resided in London between seven and eight years, during which period, notwithstanding the difficulties of his situation, he gave proofs of genius rarely equalled, and (all circumstances considered) per- haps never excelled ; but his works, from their very superiority, were perhaps less understood by common observers than those of a more ordinary cast, and of course his progress was destined to be slow, though sure. He was a man whose mind was imbued with every great and every lovely quality, and his conver- sation was full of wit and humour at some times, at others of sentiment, and that gentle seriousness so touching to the heart : when speaking of that art to which he had devoted himself, his lips were " touched with a live coal from the altar" at which he was a sa- crifice ; and we have frequently heard Mr. Hofland 154 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF say, that the eloquence of Walker in descanting on the beauties of nature, and the fascinations of land- scape painting, had confirmed him in that decided preference to this branch of art, which to the present hour he has held inviolate. Let it be also recorded, that Thomas Walker was a sincere believer in the great truths of Christianity, of strictly moral principles in every relation of life, and of the warmest attachment to all the ties of family and friendship. In his person, he was of the middle height, and though not handsome in the common acceptation of the word, had a mouth so full of benevolent expres- sion, and a forehead so indicative of mental energy and lofty ideas, that perhaps he was never seen, or spoken with, by any person who did not ardently desire to see him again ; and he was beloved by those who had dis- tinguished his merits, and engaged his confidence, with an intensity of affection which neither death nor time have effaced, and which, in the praise which loves to linger on his memory, the tear which glistens at the mention of his name, breathes an eulogy alike honour- able to him, and those who survive him.* Mr. Walker, senior, outlived his highly gifted son betwixt six and seven years, and left the bulk of his fortune to his infant grandson, which, with the accu- * Mr. T. Walker died in 1808, and is buried in the churchyard of Saint Mary-le-bone. BARBARA HOFLAND. 155 mulations consequent on his long minority, amounts, we are told, to nearly £14,000 per annum. How far the superior talents of his father are added to this noble fortune we know not, but understand that when at Eton he was considered a clever boy. The singular contrast between his present and his early state, may have never engaged his attention, but we do sincerely hope that he holds in due estimation the memory of a father so highly meritorious, and so remarkably unfor- tunate. 156 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF CHAPTER VIII. MRS. HOFLAND ? S PARTIALITY FOR A COUNTRY LIFE HOFLAND AS AN ANGLER SONNET ON ANGLING — RETIREMENT AT RICHMOND STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON AND THE COUNTRY HER NOVEL OF " THE UNLOVED ONE" — HER OWN CRITICISM — UNPUBLISHED TALE, " THE VILLAGE FLORIST". Mrs. Hofland had ever a great partiality for the country. Her town life was one of necessity, not of choice ; and as soon as the necessity could be got rid of, choice was allowed to prevail, — some approach, at least, to rural quiet, being exchanged for urban noise and bustle. Many yearnings had she for woods and lawns, and hills and dales ; and never did she visit them without leaving behind her Sir Walter Raleigh's benediction : — " Blest silent groves ! may ye be For ever mirth's best nursery ! May pure contents For ever pitch their tents BARBARA HOFLAND. 157 Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these mountains, And peace still slumber by these purling fountains ! Which we may every year Find when we come a fishing here ! " And there, amid such scenes, did Hofland con- stantly "come a fishing", her own heart following him, for he was a devoted disciple of Izaak Wal- ton. "His passion for angling", says his wife, " known from the book he wrote on that subject, still existed in its wonted force (to within a few months of his death) ; and it is a consolation to remember, that during the last two summers, in which he resided at Richmond, a place to which he was fondly attached, he still enjoyed it." She sympathized warmly with him in this pastime, as well as in his professional pursuits, as the follow- ing little poem will sufficiently shew : — SONNET ON ANGLING. What is the conqueror's most triumphant joy, Compared to his, who brings from lake or stream The valorous trout, — carp, cunning, old, and coy, — Or pike, voracious, — perch, with golden gleam, — Or dace, of living silver ? What a theme, On which the sire may lesson his proud boy, And friendship listen till day's parting beam Close on the pleasant toil, the loved employ, 158 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Thence rise no revelries to vice akin, No vulgar joys unmeet for souls refined, The angler's art and energies may win, Alike the polished and the manly mind ; The one delight, I ween, where man ne'er fftund Source for repentant sigh, or sorrow's slightest wound. B. H. It was probably with a view to Holland's accom- modation as an angler, as much as for any other reason, that they took up their abode at Hammer- smith, a pleasant place itself, and, from its conti- guity to the Thames, affording great facilities for the pursuit of that favourite amusement. Here they continued to reside for some years; and formed the centre of a select circle of attached friends. But their hearts still yearned — that of our authoress in particular — for a still quieter and more decidedly country life, and therefore a fur- ther removal from the metropolis was resolved upon. In selecting Richmond as the place where she might end her days in peace, Mr. Hofland's tastes and conveniences were no doubt more con- sulted than her own. It had always been one of his most esteemed angling stations; but the rich landscape scenery around had also its attractions, in the enjoyment of which they could both parti- cipate. The situation chosen, Ormond-row, was BARBARA HOFLAND. 159 one where she had before occasionally resided. In a hurried note, immediately after her removal, she says, — " I like my house ; and when I can look at it, I am sure to like the country I am in. Mr. Holland is out continually ; but I have not yet been out of doors". This was in 1841 ; and in that delightful place she dwelt as happily as might be, enjoying not only the beauties of nature, but society quite congenial ; for here, as she had done elsewhere, she found devoted friends, by whom her company was eagerly sought. Her many little evening parties were a source of the highest pleasure to all who were privileged to enjoy them; and she reciprocated these happy social meetings in her nicely chosen circle with much delight. " Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in." Such was now her greatest pleasure : and many a peaceful evening did she thus "welcome in" during the last five years of her life, in her calm retire- ment at Richmond. The following essay was written by Mrs. Hof- land long before this time; but it shows how 160 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF much she knew, even then, of the pleasures of such social intercourse as she had now the opportunity to indulge in, and how well she was prepared to prefer it to that of a more brilliant, but less con- tentful London life : — STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON AND THE COUNTRY. The metropolis in every country will be generally found to contain the highest productions of which that country can boast, whether of matter or mind ; for so much is the latter benefited by collision and compa- rison, that the most abstract thinker, the most solitary metaphysician, or practical naturalist, never fails to find either constant residence or frequent visits there, of the highest importance to him. In Paris we may generally consider the whole strength of France (ex- tensive as it is) to be concentred in literature, science, art, and general knowledge. In England they are more diffused, but yet London is the grand focus ; and towards it even Edinburgh, with all its powers of rivalry, looks as the grand mart where talent is best displayed, appreciated, and invigorated ; where every man may best learn his own value, and that of others ; and where timidity and presumption alike are taught that courage and wisdom are necessary to render persons valuable to others, and happy in themselves. From these premises a stranger will be apt to con BARBARA HOFLAND. 161 elude, that in London, people are either so drawn to each other by congeniality of pursuit, that they form an unapproachable body, which yet in time may be entered, and of course highly enjoyed ; or else, that in consequence of their numbers, they may be found sprinkled in every coterie which is enlivened or im- proved by their presence. Neither of these expectations is realized to those who deem good society, what it really is, the great charm of life, the consoler of its cares, the excitement of its energies. Unquestionably, in London, parties are formed among persons of superior intellect, high literary reputation, and considerable conversational powers ; but they are not only difficult of access to all out of their party, but when there, the national cha- racter is found to prevail too strongly for those purposes for which they were convened. Some will be found exhausted by thought, and desirous of the repose to be attained only by silence, and that listlessness which they are seldom permitted to enjoy ; others have that terrible oppression of the spirits arising from the sense of having a character to maintain : few dare to be at ease, and fewer still give credit to those around them, so far as to consider them worthy of exertion. If one young and ardent spirit abandons himself to pleasure, chatters, blunders, laughs, reasons, and sparkles, he soon finds himself reproved by taciturnity, or depressed by the powers he has drawn out against him ; he has 11 162 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF raised giants into play with great difficulty, for pon- derous minds, like heavy bodies, move slowly, and the result is that they make nine-pins of towers, and rattle the house about his ears. A very superior literary man told me not long since, " that he was persuaded that the greatest and cleverest talker in England would soon cease to talk if he were induced to write"; and I am fully persuaded, from observation and reason, that such is indeed the fact. Authors say, in general, much less than others ; they are a shy, a proud, and a timid race ; but it is less owing perhaps to any of these qualities, than to the habit of thinking on everything which appears worthy of thought, that we may impute this property. The rapid repartee, the sportive argument, and the sprightly sally, are less to be expected from him who is accus- tomed to weigh gold coins, than him who can only scatter gold dust ; though the latter will show many a brilliant ring to gild the social hour. If the highly endowed and richly cultivated thus disperse little light when concentred, still less may we expect them to aid in dispelling gloom or awakening pleasure when placed in a circle distinct from them- selves, new to their observation, and probably averse to their pursuits. Nothing is more common than to see stars of this description " hide their diminished heads", veil their expected rays, and, instead of bestow- ing those scintillations for which many are waiting BARBARA HOFLAND. 163 malignantly, and a few amiably, retire to the safe hiding place offered by the follies of a card table, or take refuge in the reprehensible plea of indisposition, for silence and abstraction. When thus " shorn of those beams" one naturally concluded would adorn the circle of metropolitan society, I may be allowed, without fear of contradiction, to assert, that what remains generally offers far infe- rior claims to attention than any country coterie it has ever been my lot to mingle with. The abundant journals read by every man in the morning, it is true, furnish food for observation ; but as every one knows it already, there is no power of advancing novelty, or exhibiting that facility of relating anecdote, which are in themselves high qualities. The opera, theatres, and the fashions, are a London lady's grand subjects, I might say sole subjects, of conversation in general. On these they descant volubly, but rather with a view to persons than things. Thus we hear no remarks whatever to illustrate the nature or tendency of a drama, — the plot, the poetry, or the characters ; all observation, all declamation, is given exclusively to the actors. Shakspeare, Otway, and Howe, are forgotten : Kean, Young, and Macready, are alone deemed worthy of praise or blame, for they alone are seen, felt, and understood, we were about to say, but in truth that is going too far. The younger misses of a party huddle together to 164 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF whisper about their music and their dancing masters, but, except in the hour of exhibition, rarely amuse us, and certainly never disgust or weary us at any other time ; for the age of frivolity, of romping and teasing, is wholly gone by, and that of sentimentality never obtains to any great length in London, where, Johnson truly observed, people " rarely fall in love". Our young belles are a serious, fame-pursuing race, whose laborious education has destroyed the playfulness and vivid imagination incident to early life. Those more advanced seek more substantial rewards ; but all are become much greater thinkers than their grandmothers, and by the same rule are less colloquial ; for although all speech is deteriorated into idle chattering when not used as the vehicle of revealing thought, yet, as in the case already cited, we shall certainly find that too much thought also defeats that end. In early life we look rather for the blossoms of fancy than the fruits of reflection, and everything is sweetest and best in its own season. The pleasures of London consist, then (generally speaking), either in the public spectacles, lectures, or exhibitions, which in their superior excitement have destroyed the relish, and cramped the energies, which are requisite for rendering conversation amusing and instructive ; or, in that quiet, endearing, family inter- course, which contents itself with the little world beneath its own roof, and which is unquestionably BARBARA HOFLAND. 165 enjoyed in London with more ease and unbroken pri- vacy than in the country, where you must either mix in the world around you, or quarrel with it. For my own part, being naturally sociable, yet averse to dissi- pation, I have no hesitation in saying, " that I greatly prefer the society to be met with in the country". It will not often happen in the present general state of cultivation, that any half-dozen neighbours shall meet at the hospitable table, or evening entertainment, with- out such a display of knowledge or talent as to redeem their characters fully from the charge of scandal to which they were formerly subject, or to that of insi- pidity, more lately bestowed. If we find no authors, we are sure to find some blue-stockings, who, according to Mrs. Opie's admirable description of them, are much the more entertaining personages ; and we are likely to meet with an originality of manners, characters, and remarks, rarely to be found in the walks of society, which has frittered away all strong lines by the fur- bishing and polishing of fashion, or the inanity arising from the exhausting influence of dissipation. In the country we meet to please and be pleased ; and the faculties of the mind are quickened by the warmths of the heart, arising from long-remembered intercourse, congenial opinions, or friendly oppositions of sentiment. People are nearly on a par in point of importance, yet necessarily diversified in knowledge and taste : in consequence of which there is a variety 166 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF of subject descanted on, so that every one in his turn may display talent, obtain information, excite risibility, or awaken sympathy. Even when general conversation becomes interrupted, and some withdraw to groups or corners, many pleasant discussions or agreeable com- munications are made ; many a brisk argument or inte- resting tete-a-tete is carried on ; the spirits are cheered, the faculties kept in joyous motion, and the best feel- ings and affections of our nature excited, in a very superior degree to the cold, heartless, and superficial manner prevalent in the overgrown, glittering, bustling, but joyless parties of London. To the truth and force of every sentiment recorded in the foregoing paper, Mrs. Hofland became more and more alive in her sweet retire- ment at Richmond. Still, though she found lei- sure to indulge in that delightful interchange of social pleasures she could so well appreciate, she was by no means idle. Hers was never a life of indolence ; and even in her otinm cum dignitate, she continued, though less laboriously, to exert the powers of her mind, and give proof of the activity of her pen. She still wrote much for the magazines and the annuals ; and brought out also a clever novel, in three volumes, entitled " The Unloved One". Alluding to this production, in one of her familiar notes to a friend, she says, — BARBARA HOFLAND. 167 " If you see my 6 Unloved One, so don't I ; for Master C has not given me even an odd copy. The last volume was cropped short, and then found to be too short; but it is gone into the world, 'with all its imperfections on its head', which I grieve for as much as I can for anything that is become of little moment. Dear Sir John has reviewed it indulgently ; so has Jerdan, — for the rest I care but little. I know there is truth and nature, and plenty of deficiencies and old-mannerisms; and the good and evil must be taken together. It will delight no one; but it will touch a few tender hearts, and may reprove some thoughtless ones. At any rate, my three volumes are better than 's last three, for they were all scraps ; and a whole joint is better than a host of scraps any day". The " Sir John" mentioned above, was Sir John Philippart, in whom she had a kind and sincere friend during the last few years of her life. Perhaps Mrs. Hofland was correct in the esti- mate she formed of " The Unloved One". It was too good in a moral sense to be very popular as a novel. " Truth, nature, and plenty of deficiencies and old-mannerisms", — certainly there were all these ; but the two former predominated largely over the rest, and were quite sufficient to redeem 168 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF it from all dulness or dryness, as well in the esti- mation of sober minds as of " tender hearts". She was more successful, however, at this time, in her contributions to the annuals, in the pretty pages of many of which she contrived to "' Convey the moral precept in a tale", which captivated all young hearts, and even inte- rested more matured understandings. The follow- ing specimen of one addressed to juvenile tastes, has never been published : — THE VILLAGE FLORIST. The author of Elicfs Essays observes that " the children of the poor do not prattle"; inferring that they think and talk, not " of holidays and games", but " of the price of potatoes and starch". This, we fear, is much the case in all large towns; but in the country, though early care may visit young hearts occasionally, they participate, with the lambs, the birds, and the butterflies with which they are associated, those buoy- ant spirits and simple enjoyments which belong to childhood. Such at least was the case with Gertrude Price, generally called "little Gatty the flower girl"; yet her lot in life was very lowly, and her comforts very scanty. She dwelt with her great aunt, an aged and infirm BARBARA HOFLAND. 1 69 woman, who with difficulty procured subsistence for herself and this orphan relative, by uniting the labours of a charwoman (when able to undertake them), a baker of crumpets, and the seller of the produce of a small garden, in which she cultivated herbs and flowers. As soon as Gatty could carry a basket, and knew her way through the lanes and over the meadows, she became in winter the retailer of cakes, and in summer of flowers, through a rather extensive circle, and being a pretty black-eyed little girl, with a pleasant smile and a sweet voice, there were few persons who had once received her thanks for the pence they had paid her, who did not desire to deal with her again. But Gatty's best customers and friends were Mr. Stepney and his daughter Rose ; this gentleman had taken a cottage in the village for the sake of its pure air, and its vicinity to the parsonage, which was inha- bited by the friend of his boyhood. Gatty's cakes had tempted his weak appetite on his arrival, and her grateful looks, bobbing curtsey, and patient plodding, through frost and snow, mire and rain, won his pity, and excited in his own affectionate girl the warmest interest. In summer he plucked from his own garden flowers which Rose delighted to make into nosegays for Gatty's basket, and often did he tell her to call on her return, in order to replace the beautiful produce of his parterre with the cold meat or the bottle of beer which her pining relative required. ] 70 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF And when, in the declining year, Gatty's stock was gone, and her labours more circumscribed, Rose re- ceived her every morning an hour before her poor father was stirring, and taught her to read and write, to net garters and knit nightcaps for sale. There was indeed nothing which a girl in her fourteenth year could communicate to one in her ninth that Rose omitted to teach Gatty, which could benefit one in her station ; and confined as she now was by the indisposi- tion of her beloved and only parent, her contrivances to help the poor flower-girl, either by renovating her wardrobe, replenishing her basket, or exciting her ap- plication to learning, formed her only amusement. Beneath her fostering care the poor child became like a flower in the sunshine, she grew taller and stronger, was no longer the patient drudge, but the cheerful la- bourer ; Gatty could run with the swiftest, laugh with the gayest, and many a titled girl might have looked from her carriage windows with envy on the contented creature. Alas ! this period of her history too soon passed away ; after struggling with difficulty through the winter, in the fatal month of March Mr. Stepney died, leaving his daughter overwhelmed with affliction, from which all his lessons of resignation could not in the first instance preserve her, for he had been to her everything the world could give, and his loss included every other. BARBARA HOFLAND. 171 This lamented parent had been at one time a rich Russia merchant, but he had suffered great losses, and conscious of his approaching dissolution, retired from all business, and sought only to secure a respectable competence for his daughter. Having honourably settled all his affairs, he purchased the cottage in which he ended his days, contented to live on three hundred a year, which was the rent of his late house and pre- mises in London. To Mr. Grayson, the clergyman of the parish, he bequeathed the guardianship of his daughter in a few lines written by himself, evidently with the belief that no trouble on pecuniary matters would arise to one whom he knew to be as much a child in all worldly affairs as he was wise in those that belong to eternity. Deeply was this good man afflicted when he found that poor Rose had no property whatever save the cottage ; for it appeared that Mr. Stepney had not only sold his house, but spent or paid away its produce, for there was not more than twenty pounds found in the cottage, or bonds or securities for any. In consequence there was a necessity for selling the furniture of the cottage, and letting it as speedily as possible; and poor Rose, so soon as she could pay attention to such mat- ters, was given to understand that her portion was so small, it would be advisable that she should endeavour to improve herself in those accomplishments which would enable her to become the teacher of others. 172 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Her friends at the parsonage had a large family and a narrow income, and they loved Rose so much, that they believed she would do far better for herself than by staying with them, otherwise she would have been welcome to remain, and " be unto them as a daughter. 55 She removed to London ; she exerted herself to the utmost ; but when she was about seventeen, became so poorly, that country air was prescribed, and she re- turned to the parsonage, to the great joy of poor Gatty, who observed, " she was grown grand and tall like a holly-hock, but white and drooping as a lily of the valley. 55 Pure air, good milk, kind faces, and cheerful con- versation, the result of piety and sympathy, soon re- stored the amiable orphan to perfect health, and the family being considerably reduced, from the sons having gone out into the world, her abode with them was warmly pressed by the worthy couple, and she con- sented to remain at least through the following sum- mer ; again she made nosegays for Gatty's basket, turned an old gown for her use, and sought to im- press on her mind those truths which might console her poverty and reward her exertions ; and, to her great delight, she became twice a week a privileged visitor to Miss Stepney, to whom she brought her copy book, and the clothes she had helped to wash. As she was received in the parlour used by all the family , Gatty, after a time, ceased to start and blush BARBARA HOFLAND. 173 if " his reverence" happened to be sitting there ; but when his son, who was beginning life as an attorney, and came down on business in the neighbourhood, was found there, Gatty thought it would be improper to ask her benefactress for her bill, or display her own im- provements, and she was bustling away when Miss Stepney called her back, saying, " Mr. Richard will not disturb you and me, Gatty, for you see he is busy himself." Gatty indeed saw that the young gentleman was un- folding a large sheet of something which made a dif- ferent sound to that of paper ; she looked at it with extraordinary earnestness and even interest, so that Rose was induced to say, ;< I suppose you never saw a sheet of parchment before, Gatty?" " Never but once, Miss, in all my life ; pray is it some kind of a grand newspaper ?" " No, Gatty, it is called a deed ; I will tell you more about it another time." Gatty appeared disappointed ; she nestled close up to the table, and without laying down her bill or her book, said earnestly, " Pray, do people ever steal deeds, Miss Stepney?" " I should think not, Gatty, for they are generally locked up." " Oh! but he must have stolen it — he looked so pale and so wild, just the same as the woman who took stockings from our hedge — he must have stolen it ! " 174 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF These words were muttered in soliloquy by Gatty, who in speaking them annoyed her young friend ; but they struck Richard Grayson very differently; hastily folding the parchment, he came forward, and in a mild voice desired the child would " tell him all about the parchment she had seen ?" at the same time sitting down, as if willing to hear a long story. " Why, sir, you see it is a long time since, but I re- member it exactly the same as if it were last night, and I'll tell you, Miss, my reasons." " No, Gatty, tell us the story first." " Well, as I was coming home with my very last basket of flowers for that year, having one bundle, I mean bouquet, left, I sat down just by our door, think- ing I might have a chance for selling that, because I heard somebody coming down the lane, and sure enough there came a grand gentleman in boots, with one of those rattling deeds in his hand ; he opened it out in the way to read the words by the little light that was left (for in the lane it was nearly dark), and he looked pleased for a minute, and then somehow quite fright- ened, so that I was afraid too, though he didn't see me, and I crept into the porch. Oh ! how quickly he did fold it up, though his hands shook like an aspen branch, and then he buttoned it in his bosom so fast, like as if all the buttons in the world couldn't hold it safe." " And which way did he go, my little maid?" " He turned again up the lane, and I crept up the BARBARA HOFLAND. 175 field at the back of the hedge to watch him, for though I was frightened I was somehow curious too, and wanted to see where he would go. I was quite a child then, and had a trick of singing, and just as I got to the top of the lane, which you know is very short, I believe I sung out words which my aunt had taught me : — " It is a sin to steal a pin, Much more to steal a greater thing." Well ! you never would have forgot it had you seen how the strange gentlemen did start and stare ; but he had no chance of seeing such a little thing as me, and I stood stock still, all of a tremble. He felt for the deed, pulled it half out, thrust it in again, and at last took to running as fast as he could up to the public- house ; and a few minutes after galloped away on a fine horse." " And you never heard more of him ?" " No, sir, except that when I asked the ostler about him next day, he said ' he did not know who I meant, unless it was a gentleman that had been calling to see poor Mr. Stepney'." " Miss Stepney, have you any recollection of such a caller ?" "Indeed I have," replied poor Rose, with much emotion: "one evening in autumn, when my dear fa- ther had been obliged to lie down, the servant called 176 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF me from his bed-side to speak with a gentleman, whom I found to be Mr. Stilton, our tenant. He said ' that my papa had got his copy of the lease of the house as well as his own, and he would thank him for it, as he could take it then, though he was in a great hurry'. " On going up stairs with this message, my father bade me reach him a tin box, in which he said the lease was, and added, ' I ought to have sent it to him.' As he gave me a parchment out of the box he was seized with a violent fit of coughing, so that he could not look at it I remember, but I ran down with it as quick as possible, and gave it to Mr. Stilton." " Alas ! alas i you doubtless gave away the title- deeds of that property to which you were entitled : the fact is confirmed from the circumstance of that very box containing two copies of a lease, one of which ought to have been in the tenant's possession. On my observing this circumstance to Mr. Stilton, he said he had not thought it material, seeing he was becoming the purchaser ; but I well remember his confusion, which confirms all this child asserts. I wished exceed- ingly to have questioned him closely, but my poor father, whose perfect innocence precludes suspicion, could not bear to hear me examine one whose specious bearing and pretended sorrow for you, rendered him sacred in his eyes." " I cannot blame him ; even now the thing appears impossible to me : my father was his friend in early BARBARA HOFLAND. 177 early life ; he is a wealthy man, why should he wrong me ? I cannot believe him guilty." "But I can, for it is my misfortune to see every day the dark side of human nature, as it is exhibited in an attorney's office ; and I know how temptation operates on selfish minds when there is no strong reli- gious principle to oppose it. Mr. Stilton has a good character, which he cannot bear to lose, and which will render confession difficult ; nevertheless, as he is not a hardened sinner, I trust, with this witness in my hand, I may extort from his fears what his fraud has retained. My dear father will gladly assist me, for he will see the finger of God manifested in this discovery." Gatty knew not whether she was most pleased or frightened, when she found herself riding to London between two gentlemen ; but the idea of being service- able to Miss Rose, though she did not quite comprehend how, was very dear to her. Within a little time she had read Miss Edgeworth's story of " Simple Susan", and it struck her that, perhaps, like that good girl, she might get the better of another lawyer Cave. She had, nevertheless, a strong impression that the gentleman who had unfairly possessed himself of the parchment was a different person to the village tyrant, and, to use her own phrase, "had never been naughty before". On arriving at Mr. Stilton's house, they were informed by his servant that his health had been long very indifferent, and he was then so low and poorly it was 12 178 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF impossible for him to see more than one person at a time. A short consultation followed : Mr. Grayson was afraid that his son might be too peremptory in his accusations of so weak a man ; his son feared no less that his father might be cajoled by one who had so much cause to continue his deception. They at length agreed that Gatty should go in first, since upon her power of identifying Mr. Stilton as the person in question, everything depended. Never had Gatty beheld a room half so large or half so grand as that to which she was now admitted, and in the confusion caused in her mind by looking-glasses and pictures, it was some time before she perceived a gentleman who lay on a sofa at the farther end, or heard him in a faint voice bid her come near to him. At length Gatty sprang forward with the quickness of habitual obedience, but when arrived close to the invalid, she suddenly stopped, and gazed intently on his face : " Surely," she thought, " this pale, thin gentle- man cannot be the stout, good-looking person I saw ?" and she became justly afraid of making an unfounded accusation. When Gatty entered Mr. Stilton's drawing-room, he concluded she was come to beg some favour for herself or her parents, and he made due allowance for a silence that might proceed from timidity ; but natu- rally feeling offended by the scrutinizing manner in which she regarded him, he muttered angrily, " What can the girl mean by fixing her black eyes on me ?" BARBARA HOFLAND. 179 Though not addressed, Gatty felt it was high time to speak, but what to say she knew not : three times she opened her lips, but no sound issued from them ; her distress increased every moment, and at length, the adage of her infancy broke forth in slow sonorous sounds, — " It — is — a sin — to steal — a pin — much more to — " There was no occasion for more : Mr. Stilton sprang from the sofa with an expression of countenance and dilation of form which fully revealed the fact of his being the man she had seen ; at the same time he said in a voice half suffocated by his astonishment : — " Who are you, girl ? — what do you want ? " I am Gatty Price, sir, the flower girl of Ridgeton, and I wanted to look at you again : it was me that saw you in the lane that night you stole — I beg pardon, that night you took the parchment deed from Mr. Stepney's." Had the earth yawned beneath his feet, scarcely could Mr. Stilton have been more appalled; yet rage alone seemed to possess him, as he turned to the poor child, and in a voice of thunder, inquired, " Who had dared to send such a creature as her to insult him ?" " Mr. Grayson, our vicar, sir, and young Mr. Gray- son, the lawyer, have brought me in a chaise to make me a witness," answered Gatty, dropping a very low curtsey. 180 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Mr. Stilton's manner instantly changed ; he spoke in a mild voice, but with a slight sneer, saying : " And what are you to tell, my good girl, when you are made a witness ?" " Exactly the truth, sir ; how I saw you come down the lane all in a hurry, look at the top of the deed, and then pop it into your bosom and button it fast, very fast." " Well, and what besides ?" " And how you nipped it out again when you heard me squeaking out, * it is a sin,' and how you looked sorrowful, and so white and wild, I can never forget your looks." Mr. Stilton was doubtless agonized with remorse at this moment, and would gladly have given his whole fortune to have been safely freed from what was a small portion of it — nevertheless he thought only of averting the danger of discovery, and after some time spent in cogitation on the subject, he said to Gatty ; " You say there was no eye upon this person, whom you fancy to be myself, but your own ?" " Oh ! yes, sir, God Almighty's eyes were upon you then, as they are now. I am sure you must remember how you felt at that time, because you feel the same just now; it makes you look worse than poor Mr. Stepney did, though he went off like you, all thin and pale." " Go away, go away, girl, this moment, and send my BARBARA HOFLAND. 181 servant, I am ill — very ill," said Mr. Stilton, throwing himself on the sofa with a deep groan, and hiding his head in the cushions. Gatty did not — could not obey. In the deep wretch- edness of Mr. Stilton, she saw not less the proof of his guilt than of his repentance, and her heart ached with compassion so acutely as to subdue every other feeling. Drawing nearer, she whispered, in some confusion, but with a gentleness and modesty that disarmed resent- ment : " Mr. Grayson, I know, wished to avoid the servants, so surely I had better not call one just now. Pray forgive me, I am but a poor girl, and perhaps ought not to speak, but if you would see him, and just give back the parchment, all would be well again. He quite pities you, sir, as well as dear Miss Eose; indeed, he said, you must be the greatest sufferer of the two. 5 ' " He is right, quite right ; but I can never see him more, it is impossible." At that moment the good clergyman entered; he had been afraid that Gatty was intruding improperly, and as he approached the subdued invalid, he made a motion for her to withdraw, which she obeyed gladly, but by the expression of her countenance he saw not only that she had been right, but that Mr. Stilton had in one sense owned himself wrong. What passed between the detected criminal, and that merciful, though upright minister, who sought not " to break the bruised reed", we know not, but it may suffice to say, that within an hour he placed in the 182 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF hands of his son the long lost title-deeds of the injured orphan, together with a considerable sum of money due to her for those years in which " she had suffered ad- versity", but had most happily secured the best lessons it conveys. Seldom has one carriage contained three such happy persons as those who now hastened to communicate their success to her who was most interested in it, yet all were serious — all felt much for the man who had in one unhappy moment fallen " from his high estate" as an honest man, and been from that hour miserable in his possession, yet incapable of refunding it, lest his reputation should suffer, and vainly re- pentant before God, because he failed in restitution to his injured fellow-creature. He did not, however, fulfil Gatty's prophesy, and " fall with the leaf"; on the contrary, he regained his health, resumed his duties in society, and though he was a more humble man than he had been before, he became in time a more cheerful one ; and when, about two years afterwards, he found that Miss Stepney was likely to marry young Grayson, and remove to London, he once more ventured to appear at Ridgetown as a friend. On this occasion he proved that his penitence was genuine, not only by the kindness of his conduct to the young people, but from his anxiety to benefit poor Gatty, for whom he purchased the cottage of her benefactress, and also settled upon her forty pounds a year. BARBARA HOFLAND. 183 Astonished by the greatness of her acquisitions, and perhaps incapable of believing he could give so freely his own money, after coveting that of another, Gatty concluded that Mr. Stilton was thus purchasing conti- nued silence on the subject of his awful secret, and she hastily assured him, " that after holding her tongue so long by his reverence's desire, she could surely do it for the rest of her life." " For the rest of my life is all I desire on this point," he replied; " but know, Gertrude, I give you this in consequence of holding you in the light of one appointed by Providence to reprove my sin, lead me in self-abasement to the throne of mercy, and enable me to restore her due to the daughter of my early bene- factor." " Well then, sir, I can take it with a safe conscience very thankfully ; I shall make my poor old aunt very comfortable, and send your honour the finest flowers that ever were seen, and plenty of heart's-ease among them." B. H. Mrs. Hofland continued to woo the Muses, even in her declining years. Among the poetic effu- sions of this later period of her literary life, are two which attracted considerable attention at the time, as relating to events of peculiar national interest — the marriage of the Queen, and the birth of the Princess Royal. In the former, she pre- 184 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF supposes the royal nuptials, and confines herself to the retirement of the " happy couple'" to Wind- sor Castle. The editor of the journal* in which it appeared, thus introduces it in his account of the proceedings : — " The following has reached us, from one whose instructive pen must have afforded many an hour's gratification to our youth- ful Queen": — THE ARRIVAL. The pomp, the pageantry, the crowd are fled, — Now may I press thee freely to my heart, Dismiss the deep solicitude — the dread Love to his votaries ever must impart, Till the last knot is tied — the blessing given, And earth receives the brightest boon of Heaven. Now may I look into those dove-like eyes, And read my welcome in their tender light ; Gaze like the miser on my peerless prize, Or, with the poet's pure, supreme delight, Through time's long vista see my joys expand Blest in thy love, and proud of thy command. Hail to thy towers, old Windsor ! thou hast seen Full many a royal, many a gracious pair Of lofty spirit, and of lovely mien, Content life's pleasures and its pains to share, * " The Naval and Military Gazette". BARBARA HOFLAND. 185 Who in these shades their happiest hours have found, Not less by faithful love than sovereign glory crown'd. Yet think not, Royal Maid, thy Albert asks, The time, the preference, duty may decry ; Thy power and greatness have their sacred tasks ; But if the heart's fond homage can supply By love — unalterable love — the power To sweeten all — such love is now thy dower. B. H. The Princess Royal was born on the 21st of November. The expected event had been a source of anxious interest ; and although the nation, perhaps, felt some slight disappointment that Her Majesty's first-born was not a prince, the birth was yet hailed with loyal enthusiasm. Our authoress, it is evident, participated largely in the joyous feeling which it excited: — ODE INSCRIBED TO THE INFANT PRINCESS ROYAL. Welcome, sweet babe ! though rude and wild November's winds around thee blow, Ne'er will they reach thee, royal child, Or blight the beauty of thy brow. Safe shelter' d in thy palace -nest, And pillow'd on the queenly breast, Britannia's winter rose shall grow, By each revolving season blest. 186 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Hail to thy advent, fairy gem In thy glad mother's diadem, No brilliant hath so pure a light As those soft twinkling eyes of thine ; Nor love, nor empire, ever shed So bright a halo round her head, As thou, her first-born babe, hath bade to shine. Thrice welcome regal, gentle guest, Thou comest at a glorious time,* When tidings from the hallow'd East, Blend in the mind with thoughts sublime, By justice call'd, by valour led, O'er Syria's fields and Judah's plains, Thy sovereign-mother's troops are spread — Their banners wave on Acre's fanes. Old Balbec's marble columns glow In the bright glance of British spears, And Lebanon's eternal snow Smiles, as the conqu'ring band appears, While all her cedar groves rejoice To hear the Christian soldier's voice. Thou too, fair babe, wilt on them smile, The guardians of thy native isle, Her pride, her honour, and her stay, Thine too, perchance, in future day ; If to that fragile form 'tis given, To prove the delegate of Heaven : — * News of the capture of Acre, by Sir R. Stopford, had been received a few days before. BARBARA HOFLAND. 187 And oh ! may He of royal birth, Whose blood was shed on Syrian earth, Give thee, when life's best joys are o'er, The crown that lasts for evermore. B. H. The year following she further displayed the fervour of her loyalty, and the freshness of her poetic mind, by the composition of the following STANZAS, INSCRIBED TO PRINCE ALBERT, ON HIS BIRTH-DAT. Ages on ages, from a princely source Hath flowed the current of thy regal blood, Displaying in its long and glorious course, Whate'er distinguishes the great and good ; Valour and justice, honour's high command, The power to rescue, or to rule a land. Hail to thy natal day ! Oh ! last and best Of all the worthies of thine ancient race, On whom a father's blessings proudly rest ; As from thy cradle he can fondly trace Courage and talent — gentleness and truth, The strength of manhood, and the fire of youth. And hail ! thrice hail ! the day when thou wert given, To be the partner of earth's noblest throne, And share the sweetest boon bestow'd by Heaven ; For love and beauty's treasures had outshone In thy young generous bosom, every claim That wins ambition's wish, or knows no selfish aim. 188 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Blest be the gifted mind — the open mien, That spread life's solace through the royal bower, Where smiles thy blue-eyed babe, thy beauteous Queen, (The opening rose-bud, and the perfect flower ;) They know thee kindly, tender, upright, just, True to thy vows, and worthy of thy trust. Year after year, on this auspicious day, May the loud trumpet hail thy natal morn ; And shouting millions swell the festive lay That sings, " for us was princely Albert born, His loving cares our gracious Queen sustain, His virtues are her pride, — God bless the twain." B. H. Nor was the expression, at this time, of her attachment to the Royal Family confined to Queen Victoria, her Royal Consort, and their first-born Princess. It was the period of Queen Adelaide's severest suffering under that painful affliction which caused so much anxiety and alarm on her account; and the following feeling lines were called forth by the circumstance : — TO THE QUEEN DOWAGER. Illustrious sufferer ! many a prayer for thee, Warm from the heart, to God's high throne ascends, And many an humble soul submissive bends, "Mongst those that seldom bend the suppliant knee, BARBARA HOFLAND. 189 Yet, deeply venerating, own the power Of Him, the Merciful, — thy faith, thy dower. The wand 'ring shepherd near thy neighbouring hills Beholds the glowing stars, and seems to see That brilliant home which thy abode shall be : Yet tears of woe his glistening eye-balls fill, And with clasp'd hands he seeks the poor man's boon, — u Oh ! take her not, good Lord ! so soon ! — so soon !" The weather-beaten seaman — though the gale His masts have splinter'd, and his sails have rent, And on his stalwart form its fierceness spent — Checks all complaint, thy sickness to bewail : The good, the gracious Queen, from whom did spring All joy, all comfort, to his u Sailor-King /" Still be thou spared to us, illustrious Queen ! For we are selfish, and, though grateful, weak — And tears, and prayers, our hearts' true homage speak. We trust that thou who hast earth's angel been, May still for some blest years be spared to shoTV What such pure spirits may effect below. B. H. 190 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF CHAPTER IX. FRESH AFFLICTIONS MR. HOFLAND's ILLNESS AND DEATH — HIS CHARACTER AS AN ARTIST DEVOTION TO ANGLING LOVE OF THE PICTURESQUE — THE POET WORDSWORTH — SYMPATHY WITH MRS. HOFLAND — EXCURSION TO PARIS — HER LAST WORK — VISIT TO HER FRIENDS IN YORKSHIRE — RETURN TO RICH- MOND. We are now brought to the period when new afflictions befel our excellent authoress. She had acquired a degree of fame, of which one more ambitious might have been proud ; she had gained, by her talents and industry, a competency of this world's goods ; she had secured by her reputation and her virtues "troops of friends"; and the even- ing of her life was wearing away in calm and pleasurable enjoyment. But this happiness was not to continue uninterrupted ; the time was at hand when she was again to experience the sor- rows and the cares of widowhood. BARBARA HOFLAND. 191 " Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud ; And after summer ever more succeeds Chill winter, with his watchful nipping cold : So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet." Mr. Hofland had gone to Italy, having a com- mission from the Earl of Egremont, his patron and friend, to paint a number of pictures, the sub- jects of which were to be selected from sketches he was to make of the sublime scenery and archi- tectural beauties of that classic land. He had long desired to visit Italy, above all other countries ; and the patronage of the munificent nobleman just named, not only afforded him the opportunity of doing so, but exhibited in his later life an in- stance of aristocratic patronage, so different from that which embittered his early struggles, that it is gratifying to record it, as not only being a more worthy, but also a more true example of the kind of encouragement afforded to art and artists by the nobility of England. " He set out," says Mrs. Hofland, " with all the ardent solicitude so natural to an artist. He made, at Naples, Castel-a-mare, Pompeii, Home, Tivoli, and Florence," she con- tinues, "between seventy and eighty beautiful sketches, but became, in the latter city, so ex- ceedingly ill, that he set out suddenly, in a hope that appeared almost vain, of reaching home again 192 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Happily, as he passed through France, the fever left him ; but its ravages were terrible ; more than twenty years seemed added to his age during five months' absence ; nevertheless, his spirits were elated, and he hastened to lay the fruits of his labours before his noble patron, of whose judg- ment he had the highest opinion, and whose ap- probation was most important." From these sketches twelve were selected, and he tried to finish five of the pictures; but he soon became too feeble to apply himself to the task with the requisite energy and diligence. In the October of the following year, his health had so far declined, as to render him incapable of any great exertion. Writing at this time, Mrs. Hofland says — "I am grieved to add, that my poor husband continues a great sufferer, and all our good doctor's medicines produce no effect. He can eat nothing ; and, of course, his weakness increases, and his spirits fail entirely : it is with great difficulty that I keep up mine ; but, thank God, my health is better than it has been in winter for some years.' This state of her husband's health grew so much worse, that his removal to some salubrious spot was strongly urged as a last resort. But let Mrs. Hofland her- self give the melancholy particulars. " After ten or twelve weeks of suffering' , , writes BARBARA HOFLAND. 193 the anxious wife, " being earnestly requested by our excellent friend, Dr. Grant, to change the air and scene, he suddenly resolved on going to Lea- mington, having for the last twenty years desired to know Dr. Jephson, of that place, in consequence of his services to several of our friends. The doctor was most kind and valuable," she adds, " but the waters disagreed with him ; and in the third week all hope ceased, even with me, — with him- self it had long been gone ; but the circumstance of my own recovery under Dr. Grant's care, though several years the elder, had rendered me too hope- ful. Violent hemorrhage (showing the true cause of my dear husband's severe sufferings for more than thirty years) revealed the truth — he died of cancer in the stomach." Hofland expired in the arms of his devoted wife, whom for several succes- sive days he could not endure to be absent from his side. This was undoubtedly a great bereavement, for they had been married nearly five-and-thirty years, and had shared all this time many pleasures, and many cares. She was, besides, devotedly attached to her husband ; and although she had had much — very much — to complain of, she had lost none of her warm affection for him ; and whenever she deeply suffered, she as freely forgave, and 13 194 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF the remembrance of her wrongs passed away for ever. A notice of the deceased in the Art Journal, gave a faithful account of him professionally. " We had the privilege", it is observed, "of ranking among the friends of the late Mr. Holland, and, with all who knew him, very deeply lament his death ; his loss will not easily be supplied, either to society or to the arts. In reference to his position as an artist, we gladly adopt the opinion of a brother artist — one of Mr. Holland's oldest and most accomplished friends — who conveys to us in these terms his notions of Mr. Holland's professional reputation : — " With whatever peculiarities of manner the critics may charge some of his more recent works, when in the decline of health, — there was an elevation, both of style and thought, which pervaded his larger composi- tions, not unworthy of Poussin ; which all admirers of landscape art must recollect, whose memories can serve them for twenty or five-and-twenty years back. His ' Richmond Hill' is a bold and effective landscape, and will be esteemed as long as the material endures : his ' Jerusalem' had a solemn and unaffected grandeur about it, which I well remember impressed all who saw it, on its exhibition in the British Gallery. Hof- land was a man of reading, and did not confine all his hours to the drudgeries of the easel : he had a high idea of his art, and sought to convey an impression of BARBARA HOFLAND. 195 its mental power in all his compositions. He had very- little value for the prettinesses so indispensable in the landscapes ' painted for the eye', which are now so much in vogue. It was not little displays of taste here, or bits of execution there, which he aimed at, but a well-studied and poetically-conceived whole. His con- versations upon art were always highly intelligent, and he was ever an eloquent advocate of its claims on the respect of the educated and the refined ; while no one could discourse more fairly and unprejudicedly respect- ing the deserts of his contemporaries. He was an enthusiastic lover of the angle, and a first-rate practi- tioner ; and he invariably united his art with it in all his piscatory expeditions ; and in the artistical sketch- ing clubs held, not at Mr. A.'s or Mr. B.'s, but sub die, in nature's own drawing-room, on Hampstead Heath, or in Greenwich Park, Richmond, or Windsor Forest, he was ever a necessary member. He did much to implant a right feeling for high landscape art in his day, — a feeling which when once entertained and appre- ciated by the public, must stimulate the artists of Britain to rival the best days of Claude and of Poussin, if indeed they have not rivalled them already." To his enthusiasm and excellence in the art of angling, I can also bear personal testimony. Many years ago we had several piscatory rambles together, among some of the finest scenery of 196 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Cumberland ; and he never failed to make them subservient to the purposes of his art. It was a great treat to stand at his side gazing upon a rich landscape, or a romantic lake and mountain scene, and hear him point out the most striking and picturesque features, and those harmonies and contrasts, which constitute their charm. I have met with no one either more enthusiastic or more discerning in this taste for the rural and the romantic in scenery, except, perhaps, the poet Wordsworth, in company with whom I once had the pleasure of visiting Patterdale. We walked up the Westmoreland side of the lake of Ulles- water, with that ardent and estimable lover of nature, to see a little sacred spot of his own, in which nothing but a little rustic cottage then stood, and from which he pointed out one of the most exquisite lake and mountain scenes it has ever been my lot to behold ; for certainly nothing that I had seen in Rhineland could excel, or scarcely equal it. The view was bounded by the bold hills above Glenridding, of which Hofland himself had a high appreciation, and which formed the subject of one of the happiest efforts of his pencil. Wordsworth was in ecstacies all the way we went, for at every hundred yards new and varying beauties disclosed themselves, — but when BARBARA HOFLAND. 197 we reached the destined point of view, whence we beheld the very acme of the picturesque and the romantic, he was enraptured beyond description ; and as he descanted on the enchanting features of the scene, he was " the old man eloquent" in all his glory. The amiable and accomplished author of Cyril Thornton was of the party ; and he — as indeed did all present — partook largely and warmly of the venerable poet's enthusiasm, the heightened effect of which he himself has called, — "A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things." It is this motion and spirit operating on the mind, which constitutes alike the poet and the painter. Wordsworth himself has acknowledged it in his own immortal verse. " Therefore", he says, — " Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains, and of all that we behold From this green earth ; of all the mighty world Of eye and ear, — both what they half create, And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize In nature and the language of the sense The anchor of my present thoughts, the muse, The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul Of all my moral being." 198 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF But to return from this digression. Under her severe loss, Mrs. Hofland failed not to receive all the kind and considerate attentions which are so consolatory to the mourning spirit. She had a host of affectionate friends, having hearts and minds congenial with her own ; and by them she was now to be comforted and cherished. One of the most devoted of these friends, and one for whom she entertained a warm attachment, was Mr. Alfred J. Roberts of Hammersmith, who, from his near neighbourhood to Richmond/had it in his power to shew her many kindnesses, which now he was the more careful and constant in be- stowing. Her notes to him at this time evince her warm appreciation of his friendship, while they exhibit the calm serenity of her mind. He was one of the first to communicate his condolence on her bereavement, and to invite her to his house. Writing to him from Leamington, she says in reply :— " Accept my best thanks for your kind sympathy, which I am sure is most sincere. I cannot come to you now. I must learn to bear my desolate home at first; it is my only burden, and I have many things to see about which will be good for me. I write a hasty note to tell you, that my good friend Mr. Sambourne came here last night, in order to see after things for BARBARA HOFLAND. 199 me, and to follow my poor husband's remains. We had been obliged to bury in the morning, and the kind clergyman and a friend of his went as mourners, and the last duties were performed very properly, so that his kind intentions were forestalled, to his grief. His visit is most valuable to me, because he will take care of me home, and take all trouble off my hands, which is a great matter to me who am always ill in travelling. Be so good as tell dear Sir John Philippart, as it will, I know, relieve his mind on my account." She returned to Richmond a few days after- wards; and there kind neighbours and warm- hearted friends soon convinced her that she was not left desolate. Early in the ensuing summer she made an excursion, with a pleasant party, to France. Alluding to this jaunt in a note to Mr. Roberts, she said : — " I shall set off, I trust, with every reason to hope for health and comfort, and a safe return. At my time of life, however, all is doubtful. Should I be taken, accept, dear Alfred, my warm thanks for your unceas- ing kindness to me, and your true affection for me. Miss H will shew you proof that I never ceased to love and esteem you. Present me most respectfully to your dear ladies. I will try to give you a line from France, but my friend here scolds me for writing so much. May God bless you, prays your very sincere friend, Barbara Hofland." 200 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF One result of this excursion was her last little work, " Emily's Reward, or a Trip to Paris." The object of this little book was, she states in her Preface, " that of awakening a desire for knowledge, thereby stimulating youth to seek it in the many excellent volumes which the present state of literature provides for their information, but which they will rarely desire, until they have been prompted by pleasurable excitement," — add- ing, that the work " makes no pretensions to supersede any of the excellent ' Hand-books'' and ' Guides to Paris' already printed, but rather seeks to lead the young reader to examine whatever be- longs either to the description or the history of that great and interesting country of which it is the capital." The accounts it gives of Paris, and many of the incidents it relates, were evidently the fruits of her own " trip". She dedicated it to Louisa Mary, the daughter of A. J. B. Hope, Esq., M.P., and the Lady Mildred Hope, " in recollection of a similar work inscribed to her father, and in the earnest hope that it may here- after contribute to her amusement and informa- tion." This it cannot have failed to do, with all its young readers. Soon after her return home, she went on a visit BARBARA HOFLAND. 201 to Yorkshire, where she had still many worthy- relatives and attached friends, who were anxious to show their sympathy and respect for her in this her second widowhood. Writing to Mr. Roberts at this time from Sheffield, she says : — " I have this moment got the very kind letter you wrote to me at Paris ; it was returned in the ambas- sador's bag. I should have written to you, by the way, without this as a remembrancer, to say that I got quite safe to my native town, after a journey of nine hours and a half, which seems little short of a miracle, as we stopped twenty minutes twice. I was tired ; but a day's quietness restored me, and I am now as well as possible, save my breath; and of that I must not complain. My Heavenly Father deals with me very gently; life has been stormy with me, but I trust my sun will set peacefully I have this morning received six letters, of which four must be answered, so I ought to say good bye ; but our pen lingers when we write to those on whom the heart has reliance. I shall not be sorry when the time comes that we sit cosily round the fire at Ormond Place, Miss H talking of France on one side of you, and Emily W listening on the other, as I hope to bring the latter with me Adieu ! continue to think kindly of me, and believe me, my dear friend, yours very faithfully, " B. HOFLAND." 202 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF She returned home before the summer was quite ended, and during the autumn and winter months the time did come, over and over again, when she and her attached friends sat " cosily round the fire in Ormond Place." BARBARA HOFLAND. 203 CHAPTER X. WARNINGS OF HER LATTER END — ATTACHMENT TO HER LATE HUSBAND'S PICTURES HER LAST WORK — SON- NETS — -RESUMES HER HABIT OF WRITING — SAD ACCI- DENT—LAST ILLNESS — DEATH— NEGLECTED BY THE CLERGY — OPINIONS OF HER WORKS MRS. HALL'S ESTIMATE OF HER CHARACTER — MONUMENT IN RICH- MOND CHURCH-YARD. We now approach the last days of Mrs. HoflancTs long and useful life — that life which, according to her own account, as already given, " had been a stormy one", but whose sun, as she had trusted it would be, was about to " set peacefully". " The days of our age", says the Psalmist, " are three score years and ten"; but her days had already far exceeded that number ; and though in general her health was good, she had received many warnings of the decay of her vital powers, which told her emphatically that the day of their employment was far spent, and the night was at hand when they could be exerted no longer. 204 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF In the autumn of 1843 she had a severe attack of illness, which alarmed her friends for her safety; but she afterwards rallied surprisingly. Writing a few days before Christmas, she states : — " I am, my doctor says, quite free from disease, though very weak yet : however, that is little matter ; the worst is, that I have scarcely any appetite ; but I dined well to-day, so that is mending". She was enabled to enjoy the social pleasures of her little circle during much of the remainder of the winter. In a note written soon after the one just quoted, she said, — "I have been expecting my old enemy, as the consequence of intense cold on the one hand, and awakened feeling on the other ; but I now trust I shall escape, from guarding against both". And so she did, for a short time. The " awakened feeling" she referred to was, doubtless, that produced by the melancholy reflections of the anniversary of her husband's death, the only one she lived to see. A few weeks afterwards, she writes, — " I am much better on the whole, but harassed with business about catalogues; and a little overdoes me". The "catalogues" alluded to, were those containing Hofland's pictures, which were about to be exhibited for sale. Writing in May, she observes, — " Alas ! all my pictures are gone ! I am nearly in the condition of Macduff, BARBARA HOFLAND. 205 crying out, " What, all my pretty ones? did you say all ? all ? at one fell swoop P However, in a day or two I shall be reconciled ; having, as I trust, placed them in the best way of increasing the fame of my husband. The ' Jerusalem' is indeed a magnificent picture: surely it will pay for the frame. I expect little more ; but I do earnestly wish it a good situation. I got up too soon : but I am still very brave". These extracts evince a still vigorous mind, and as warm affections as ever. Her attachment to her husband's pictures, and her anxiety for his fame, are characteristics of that generous and kindly nature, for which she was ever remarkable. It was not until the summer of 1844, that she put her last work to press. It has already been mentioned — Emily s Heward, or the Holiday Trip to Paris. The preface is dated Richmond, August 8, 1844 ; and the concluding paragraph may be regarded as her farewell of that public before which she had appeared as a popular writer for nearly forty years. " The great circulation given to her former works," she remarks, " and the still more gratifying assurance from many parents and friends of their real utility, render the writer extremely anxious, yet humbly hopeful, that this (which both age and infirmity mark as her last), 206 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF will not be found the least useful in awakening a praiseworthy curiosity, and in cherishing those domestic affections which are allied to the noblest energies and the purest virtues." These anticipations were correct. It was her last work. " Age and infirmity" kept creeping on, surely and sensibly. She had several attacks of erysipelas in the head, but her general health was unusually good, and her friends indulged the hope that, although she must now relinquish her pen for ever, they might continue to enjoy for some time to come her cheerful and instructive society. The following Sonnets, both written in one day, possess more than ordinary interest, as the production of a person at the age of seventy- four years, and one whose life had been so various and so trying as that of Mrs. Holland had been : — SONNET. A DAY OF DISAPPOINTMENT. Sullen and cold the low'ring morn appears, Damping our promised bliss to meet to-day, The gentle and the good, the young and gay ; For all above, the clouds' dark livery wears, And Nature smiles as one that smiles thro' 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, Thro' many a coming year with pure delight. BARBARA HOFLAND. 207 Oh ! brilliant be their morn, and calm their night, And many a roseate hour their pleasures tell, Ere rolling time presumes such joy to blight ; Yet time shall only change the heart's emplo}^ From gaiety's bright smile, to heartfelt, sober joy. Richmond, April 12, 1844. B. H. SONNET INSCRIBED TO MISS ELIZABETH BUSHNELL. Spring days and albums are congenial things, They breathe of tufted violets — blossoms caught Before their promise — the blythe insects' wings — The laugh of childhood, and all objects fraught With the young loveliness that gushing springs In early life and early months unsought. As in a garden, so in each fair page Adorn'd by painters' or by poets' skill, The mind may find gay scenes, or precepts sage, Culling rich chaplets at its own glad will ; And wise it is, dear girl, you should engage Such joys to taste, such duty to fulfil ; But all unmeet for such sweet task am I, The flowers of spring bloom not 'neath winter's sky. April 12, 1844. B. H. Somewhat reinvigorated during the fine sum- mer of 1844, she was enabled to enter freely into that social converse, to which her own contribu- tions of anecdote and information were generally 208 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF the greatest ornament. She had, on two or three occasions, written what she professed should be her " last work", but had been unable to resist the in- ducement to undertake another, and still another. But Emilys Beivard was the very last ; and yet she could not restrain herself from indulgence in her old habit of writing, which she sometimes continued many hours after all the rest of her household had retired to rest, and this practice occasioned an accident which hastened her end. On her w T ay up-stairs, after one of these " sessions of sweet silent thought" and literary occupation, she either missed her footing or trod upon her dress, and, falling down the flight of steps, strained herself severely. She lay insensible, it was sup- posed, for a considerable time, and although no fatal injury was apparent, her system had evidently received a shock which, at her advanced age, it was ill prepared to sustain. She lived for some weeks afterwards, however, although in a feeble state, and the immediate cause of her death was another attack of erysipelas in the head, which she had not now the strength to " throw off". Under this additional affliction she lingered for two or three weeks, receiving every attention from her many affectionate friends and kind neighbours, and the gratuitous and most assiduous medical BARBARA HOFLAND. 209 care of Dr. Grant, of Richmond. It was only at intervals that she was sensible of what was passing around her, and then she took pains to show how gratefully she appreciated the attentions she was receiving ; and in the last flickering moments of consciousness, while commending herself to her Saviour and her God, her unselfish and loving soul forgot not to implore blessings, with equal earnestness, upon her fellow-creatures, to promote whose improvement, and increase whose happiness, had been with her a "labour of love" all her life long. Her remains were consigned to a vault in Rich- mond church-yard, whither they were followed by some of the most constant and devoted of those friends to whom, by her virtues and talents, she had so justly endeared herself. But to many it may well be a subject of serious concern, that though Mrs. Hofland had so fully entitled herself to the regard of the Church, she should have received throughout life, and even in her dying hours, so little attention from that quarter. On her own account, and for the sake of society — this is a matter of regret, but it is one of deep reproach to the Church itself, in whose holy cause she was constantly labouring, though by no means with that effect which might have followed, 14 210 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF had she but been encouraged and directed by the countenance and counsel of those, who have not only a more direct interest, but a higher responsi- bility, in that which she had so much at heart, and which she did so much to advance— the moral and religious improvement of the young. The clergy might have availed themselves, with manifest ad- vantage, of the efforts of a pen so pious, yet so popular, as Mrs. Holland's. They might have made her an invaluable handmaid to their own higher ministrations. But instead of this, there was never, on any occasion, of which there is the least evidence, the slightest advance on their part towards one, who was not only most highly quali- fied to co-operate with them in their endeavours to promote Christian knowledge, and enforce Chris- tian duty, but who, by her own Christian graces and labours, possessed so great a claim to their regard. Surely these are circumstances we may well wonder at and lament. Had the clergy sought the acquaintance, and the assistance, of such a writer, they might have given a still better direc- tion to her literary talents, or, at any rate, they might have given a higher and more decided Church tone to her writings. But, no, — they all, with one consent, stood aloof, as if afraid of the contact, though a very little reflection must BARBARA HOFLAND. 211 have convinced them, that she who gave her only- son to the sacred ministry of the Church, must surely have a favourable disposition, to say the least of it, towards their holy order, and to the cause to which they had devoted their lives. I cannot discover that she was at any time the ob- ject of pastoral visitation, or of pastoral care or concern in any way, at any period of her long residence in London or its suburbs. It would have been interesting, one would have thought, as well as dutiful, on the part of him who was " set over her in the Lord", to have made her the ob- ject of such ministrations: but it was never done. And as it had been in her life, so was it in her death — she received, during her last illness, no pastoral attention, and had no spiritual consola- tion, save that only which, in the moments of composure and collectedness, she found in the re- sources of her own pious mind. " Others must relieve the sick," says Bishop Jeremy Taylor, in his exposition of the minister's duty in life, " but you must take care of them ; others must shew themselves their brethren, but you must be their fathers ; they must c watch and pray that they fall not into temptation"', but you must watch for yourselves and others too ; the people must mourn when they sin, but you must mourn for your own 212 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF infirmities and for the sins of others ; and what shame was ever greater than is described in the parable of the traveller going from Jerusalem to Jericho, when, to the eternal dishonour of the Levite and the priest, it is told, that they went aside and saw him with a wry neck and a bended head, and let him alone, and left him to be cured by the good Samaritan. Kemember", adds the pious prelate — the English Chrysostom, "your dignity, to which Christ hath called you : ' Shall such a man as I flee", said the brave Eleazar, ' shall the stars be darkness, shall the ambassadors of Christ neglect to do their king honour?' " Yet, flee they did from the house of death, where the gentle spirit of Barbara Hofland was preparing to take its flight to those everlasting habitations, to which the good pastor may generally " point the way" with so much consolation to the departing soul, and benefit to the living. " Some pious drops the closing eye requires", and who so able, who so proper to supply them, as he whose duty it is to " watch for souls as one that must give account"? No duty is more plainly incumbent upon the parochial clergy than this. They are not to wait, but to watch. " When any person is dangerously sick in any parish", says the BARBARA HOFLAND. 213 sixty-seventh of our Canons Ecclesiastical, " the minister or curate, having knowledge thereof, shall resort unto him or her, to instruct and comfort them in their distress." And, again — " and when any is passing out of this life, a bell shall be tolled, and the minister shall not then be slack to do his last duty." These are intelligible and solemn in- junctions. Why, then, was not Barbara Hofland aided and consoled in her extremity by an ob- servance of them ? There was full knowledge of her sickness, and of its being " unto death". No conventional usage, no mere etiquette, can excuse such neglects. " He that negociates between God and man, As God's ambassador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy", — he whose place it is to perform the solemn duties which claim observance at the last, and in whose performance of them, issues of such awful moment are often involved, ought not to be restrained by any mere worldly considerations. I have thus dwelt upon this, because it has struck me as a thing, if, unhappily, not extraordi- nary, at any rate most censurable and outrageous, that one like my lamented friend — an humble Christian and a conscientious church woman — 214 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF should be permitted to die in a Christian land, and almost under the shadow of her parish church, without ever having had offered to her the ghostly- counsels and consolations of Christianity, and the solemn rites and benedictions of the Church. There has never been, as far as I am aware, much difference of opinion as to the general merits of Mrs. Holland as an authoress, whatever may be thought of the relative merits of particular pro- ductions of her pen. The following judgment of the Literary Gazette is as true and just as it is graceful and forcible : — " Mrs. Holland's voluminous writings are all per- fectly feminine in character. Easy and graceful, with remarkable fertility of invention, they display much pathos and power of imagination. Without entering, however, into any critical analysis of her works, which are too well known to require it, we shall here content ourselves with transcribing a few lines from a sketch that was written some years ago : — ' As the inculcator of the vital importance of fixed principles of justice, honour, and integrity — of Christian virtues founded upon Christian faith — of all that is truly noble in man and lovely in woman — Mrs. Holland, from the nature of her compositions, and the extent of their circulation, has perhaps done more than any other writer of the day. The religion which she makes the groundwork BARBARA HOFLAND. 2 1 5 of all this, and which she has the art of making her readers teach themselves, is religion in its best form ; unobtrusive, and yet unfailing ; gentle, yet active ; modest, yet firm ; moderate, kind, and consistent, without sourness, bigotry, or enthusiasm. This reli- gion she has not only inculcated but practised, under trials greater than any she has described.' " The testimony which has been borne by a sister spirit, Mrs. S. C. Hall, to her literary merits and her personal virtues, has already been quoted from, but another portion remains to be extracted, which may appropriately be given here, as a re- view of her character: — " I shall never look from Eichmond Hill, or ramble in the lovely vale of the Thames, without remembering one of the most admirable and excellent women Eng- land has ever produced — one who lived not only in the exercise of general love and charity, but whose life for many years was an example of that quiet, unostenta- tious, every-day domestic heroism which both sanctifies and glorifies the female character. I think it must be nearly twenty years since I first saw Mrs. Hofiand. I had longed most earnestly to meet her. 6 The Son of a Genius,' a story not only of European but of uni- versal popularity, had been one of my first ' story books;' and I could not prevent tears gushing from my eyes when she took me affectionately by the hand, and 216 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF said she was sure we should be good friends. We walked together the same morning to a private view of the Society of British Artists, and she showed me with wife-like pride a view from Kichmond Hill painted by her husband. One of his very best pictures it certainly was ; and well did she know every glade, and avenue, and tree, depicted therein. She spoke so eloquently of the beauty and richness of English land- scape scenery, and more especially of the loveliness and sunniness of the banks of the Thames, that I forgot the fealty I owed to my native mountains, and thought only of the great English river. At that time Mr. and Mrs. Holland lived in Newman Street, and her kind augury was amply fulfilled. We became friends; and I only wish that every woman had such a friend, and such an example, as she was to me and all round her. In her manners she was perfectly natural, and alto- gether free from the plague-spot that marks so many literary women — affectation. Her accent still fla- voured of Yorkshire; but her plainness of countenance was polished by the purest and gentlest benevolence. Eeady wit and a keen perception of the ludicrous prompted her sometimes to say what, though true, would have been called severe if uttered by any one else, yet her natural dislike to occasion pain, healed before the reproved was conscious of a wound. My knowledge of Mrs. Hofland in the domestic relations of life was such as rendered me altogether forgetful of her BARBARA HOFLAND. 217 literary fame. Some there are who find it difficult to live up to their own printed standard of excellence ; but she in her own life was an example of patience, forbearance, and devotedness, which if literally reck- oned could scarcely be believed. Her unselfishness was such as to deserve the term spiritual; and this extended to beyond her home. Her friends saw it exercised daily towards themselves." Home of Mrs. HalFs animadversions on poor Hofland have already been noticed. There is an- other passage in the article from which I have quoted ; and as a further and forcible illustration of the character of our authoress, its addition is important: — " Then she was so fond of young people — so happy when her husband's health or inclination permitted her to have the innocent enjoyment of surrounding her table with cheerful faces. Everybody told her every- thing, secure of her aid and her sympathy — her warm, generous, earnest sympathy, that listened and advised. It is ill to write unkindly of the dead ; and he whose harshness caused her virtues to shine so brightly, ho- noured her in his heart ; though a long series of years of suffering from internal disease rendered him, despite his talent and his knowledge, so great a penance to so rare a wife. . . . Had it not been for her high religious principles, and her buoyant and cheerful nature, Mrs. 218 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF Holland might be said to have passed a life of mingled labour and endurance. She chiefl y wrote at night ; I do not remember finding her more than once at her desk in the morning ; and her household affairs were well ordered. It strikes me as a great advantage to a woman, not to commence her literary career until her mind is thoroughly established as to her duties; and in this Mrs. Hofland, or at all events her family and friends, were fortunate. 5 ' Such was the excellent woman — as rich in the amiable dispositions of her heart, as in the rare endowments of her mind — whose life, as I have here endeavoured to trace it, exhibits so extraor- dinary a combination of virtues and talents, — vir- tues, of a kind, and in a degree, so seldom found united with literary talents, though less, perhaps, from any incongruity in their actual nature, than from an unhappy insensibility to their mutual im- portance. And such she continued to the end of her mortal career. She had undergone but little per- ceptible change to within a few weeks of her de- cease ; and that little was only such as made her all the more interesting and beloved. Her description of one of the creations of her own fancy, — the heroine of one of the most successful of her tales,* * " Decision". BARBARA HOFLAND. 219 — may literally be applied to herself, in almost the last days of her long life : — " The activity of her habits preserved her fine form, her light step, and the quickness of her eye ; and al- though the rapidity of her ideas, the strictness of her methodical arrangements, and the determinate charac- ter of her mind, rendered her occasionally subject to a quick mode of speech, and an unbending gait, there was an openness of countenance, an assurance of pro- tection, and a full, frank kindness of reception about her which enabled every honest child of sorrow to lay his wants before her with ease — the mean and the wicked shrunk before her eye." Yet all this was in the retirement of her own private circle ; for of her, though so popular an authoress, it may truly be said, that — u Along the cool, sequester'd vale of life, She kept the noiseless tenor of her way." Few public writers of either sex, probably, have kept themselves more retired from personal publicity than Mrs. Holland did. Her own declaration was strictly correct, that she "was the most retired and retiring person in the whole range of public characters", and that it was " the great object of her life to pass as undistinguished as the nature of her avocations permitted". This circumstance may have deprived her me- moirs of much that might be exciting ; but it was, 220 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF nevertheless, the great aim of her life ; and it sheds a peculiar halo around her tomb. The re- mark of Goldsmith is doubtless true, that "the life of an author seldom abounds with adventure ; his fame is acquired in solitude; and the histo- rian, who only views him at a distance, must be content with a dry detail of actions, by which he is scarce distinguished from the rest of mankind. But we are fond," he adds, " of talking of those who have given us pleasure, not that we may have anything important to say, but because the subject is pleasing." We may go further, how- ever, than this. The subject can scarcely fail to be profitable, as well as pleasing. The records of virtue and piety are seldom unedifying ; but when virtue and piety are combined with genius and talent, they delight as well as improve. Mrs. Hofland, it has been shewn, was an eminent ex- ample in this respect. The creations of her mind invariably bear the stamp of her benevolent heart. The fame of her works, which extends over half the globe, is mainly owing, no doubt, to the happy combination of literary ability with vir- tuous affections. She has, by her writings, given pleasure, while she has conveyed instruction to tens of thousands ; and she will do so, we may be sure, to tens of thousands more : for though dead she yet speaketh, and will still speak on, through BARBARA HOFLAND. 221 successive editions of her works, to future gene- rations. Through the generous exertions of her constant and warm-hearted friend, Mr. Roberts, a monu- ment has been erected, by subscription, to her memory, at Richmond church. It is a marble tablet, surmounted by a basso-relievo, consisting of a female figure weeping over a draperied urn. This is by no means an appropriate, because it is not a Christian, emblem. Urns belong to Pagan rites; and it is only that cheerless system, not ours, which involves any necessity for goddesses or graces, to weep over the ashes of the departed. Sculptors are too generally at fault in their designs for Christian monuments. "For more than a century," observes Mr. Markland, in his Remarks on Sepulchral Memorials, " mural monu- ments with cherubs, skulls, lamps, and twisted columns, with little variety, were permitted to deform our churches. In later days we have had the urn and the sarcophagus— strange ornaments for a Christian Temple ! or a figure veiled with drapery sitting under a willow, bending over a tomb ; or a boy leaning upon an inverted torch ! These designs have become wearisome and unin- teresting from repetition ; and unless they proceed from the chisel of a master cannot but be wholly disregarded." 222 LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF One cannot but regret that the monument to Mrs. Holland should fall within this unsatisfactory category. Sound principles of art, and a correct taste, would have suggested that its form and style should be appropriate to the Christian pro- fession and character of her whose memory it was raised to perpetuate. Of her worthiness to be made the subject of such a posthumous honour, no doubt can be entertained, if distinguished talents and a blameless, useful life, furnish any title to such a tribute ; yet her natural disposition led her to shun notoriety, and we have seen that some of the most endearing features of her cha- racter were those which exercise their happy in- fluence within the quiet sphere of home. The monument bears the following inscription : THIS TABLET IS ERECTED BY A FEW ATTACHED FRIENDS TO THE MEMORY OF Barbara f^oflanti, RELICT OF THOMAS CHRISTOPHER HOFLAND, ARTIST, AUTHORESS OF ' THE SON OF A GENIUS', ETC., ETC., she endeavoured with christian humility to recommend by her example the lessons incilcated by her writings. born at sheffield, a. d. 1770: died at Richmond, nov. 9, 1844. BARBARA HOFLAND. 223 The remains of many worthies are scattered around her ; not the least of whom, assuredly, is Thomson, the poet of the Seasons, who was buried in the Church, without an inscription at the time, though a brass tablet has since been placed on the wall adjoining, as well as a monument erected to his memory in Westminster Abbey. It is, of course, well known, that it is to Richmond that Collins refers, in his immortal Ode on the death of Thomson: — " In yonder grave a Druid lies, Where slowly winds the stealing wave, The year's best sweets shall duteous rise, To deck the poet's sylvan grave ! ***** " Long, long thy stone, and pointed clay, Shall melt the musing Briton's eyes ! ! vales, and wild woods, shall he say, In yonder grave a Druid lies ! " It may not, perhaps, be said so emphatically, that her "stone and pointed clay'" shall long "melt the musing Briton's eyes": — we may not presume to claim for her a popularity so vehement as that. But there is a poet's line which we may venture to appropriate. It is said by Lord Lyttleton, speaking of Thomson, that his works contained — "No line which, dying, he could wish to blot." 224 LIFE, ETC. OF BARBARA HOFLAND. One must make due allowance for the " poetic licence'". But certainly, whatever force it has, as referring to James Thomson, will apply it with equal emphasis to our authoress. Happy indeed will it be if her example is fol- lowed by those who come after her, — if private life is adorned by the same mild and lovely vir- tues, and the means of usefulness possessed by those who are the intellectual instructors of man- kind, are always devoted to the same noble pur- poses, and directed by the same pure principles, which influenced the life, and guided the pen of Barbara Hofland. finis. RICHASUS, PRINTER, 100, ST. MARTIN S LANE. V ^efo aeorftss RECENTLY PUBLISHED BY W. J. CLEAVER, 46, PICCADILLY. THE LIFE OF ST. PAUL, the Apostle of the Gentiles ; •^ designed chiefly for the use of Young Persons. By the Rev. G-. E. Biber, LL.D. In one volume fcap 8vo., cloth, price 4s. 6d., by post 5s. "At once simple, interesting, and dignified." English Churchman. "The narrative is precise in language and interesting in its structure, and will no doubt meet with the favour it merits both in schools and in families." Morning Post. " Cannot fail to prove both useful and attractive." John Bull. " Most judiciously and carefully compiled." Morning Herald. " Faithfully and ably written, and is of the most popular and attractive character." Atlas. " The style is clear and very simple " Spectator. " This book will be very valuable to schools, to young persons, and indeed to all who require — in addition to having their memory refreshed — a complete life history of St. Paul, a subject that should be made familiar to all members of our Church." Ten Towns' Messenger. "Dr. Biber has, we think, been unusually successful in his recent " Life of S. Paul." Not only does it contain the narrative of the Acts, but it weaves up most of the substance of the Epistles ; and incidentally, of course, the history of all the Apostolic Churches." — Christian Remem- brancer. " The work is deserving not only of the attention of the young, but of persons of riper years ; and there are, perhaps, few who may not learn something from it. The style is popular and easy, and the whole narra- tive is full without redundancy." — English Review. THE LIFE AND LITERARY REMAINS OF - 1 - BARBARA HOFLAND, Author of " The Son of a Genius," " Tales of the Manor," " Patience," " Reflection," " Decision,", &c, &c. By Thomas Ramsay, Author of "A Glance at Belgium and the Rhine." Dedicated by permission to the Lady Mildred Hope. In fcap. 8vo, cloth elegant. With a Portrait engraved by E. Finden. THE REST, an Episode in the village of Ross Cray. By the Rev. Claude Magnay. In fcap. 8 vo., cloth gilt, with Illus- trations, price 3s. 6d. " This is a sweetly told tale, full of fine moral and religious sentiment," Morning Herald. "Deserves to be extensively read in quarters where it is likely to do good." Atlas. NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY THE HOLY OBLATION. A Manual of Doctrine, In- -*- structions, and Devotions relative to the Blessed Eucharist. By an Anglo-Catholic Priest. In royal 32mo., price 2s. 6*d., embossed cloth, and 5s. morocco, with Illustrations to each division of the Book. "A high-toned and reverential book of devotion, and unless we are mistaken, will suit a large, and we believe, increasing class of minds." — Christian Remembrancer. A SHORT COMMENTARY ON THE COLLECTS, -^ with Illustrations from Holy Scripture. By the Rev. Charles Christopher Spencer, M.A.. Curate of S. Paul's, Knightsbridge. In 18mo., stiff cover, 9d., or in cloth, Is. By post, Is. Id. " A small book containing much valuable information." — Guardian. QTEPS TO THE CROSS. Nine Sermons, preached at ^ S. Mary's, Bideford. By Thomas Norton Harper, M.A. In one volume, foolscap 8vo., cloth, price 3s. 6d. " These sermons unite a very considerable degree of eloquence and earnestness." Theologian. "A very useful and appropriate manual for Churchmen during the most solemn period of the ecclesiastical year." Morning Post. " Warm and direct." — Christian Remembrancer. " The general tone of the Sermons before us exhibits the decided im- press of such feelings, in the humbling and penitential character which is so familiar to us in Dr. Pusey's writings." — English Review. A IDS TO A HOLY LIFE ; in Eornis for Self-Examination, -^*- General and Particular. Compiled from various sources, with an Introduction, explaining the manner in which the duty should be per- formed. By the late Thomas H. B. Bund, A.M., a Priest of the English Church. New Edition, with Preface and Memoir of the Author. In 18mo., price Is. cloth, red edges, by post, Is. 6d. QPECULUM EPISCOPI. The Mirror of a Bishop. ^ In post 8vo., cloth, price 7s. 6d. Second Edition. "It will be read, and ought to be read, and will do good in various ways." — Christian Remembrance)-. VACATION VOLUMES. VOL. II. THE ANCIENT KNIGHT ; or, Chapters on Chivalry. -*- By the Rev. J. E. Bussell, B.C.L. In 18mo., with Eron'dspiece, price 2s. 6d. cloth. TTENRY OF EICHENEELS ,— and CHRISTMAS EVE. **■*■ Newly translated from the German by the Rev. W. B. Flower, B.A., one of the Classical Masters of Christ's Hospital, London. In 18mo., with Illustrations, price 2s. 6d. cloth. " An excellent book." — Literary Gazette. W. J. CLEAVER, PICCADILLY. TJEARTSEASE AND DEWDROP. A Tale for Children. *■■*- By " C. M." In royal 16mo., elegantly bound, price 2s. with plates, and ornamental borders. " A very pretty and instructive fairy tale for children." — Literary Gazette. " For the young, for whom it is designed, this book must possess many attractions ; and while it delights it will instruct them/' — Oxford Uni- versity Herald. OBSERVATIONS ON THE BOOK OF COMMON Prayer. A Series of Letters reprinted from the " English Church- man." By the Bev. Matthew Plummer, M.A., Perpetual Curate of He worth, Durham. In 1 vol. foolscap 8vo., price 6s. cloth, boards. THE CLERGYMAN'S ASSISTANT IN VISITING X THE SICK. By the Rev. Matthew Plummer, M.A. To which are added the Offices for the Communion of the Sick, and for the Private Baptism of Infants. 1 vol. 12mo., cloth limp, red edges, suitable for the pocket, price 3s. 6d. BARTER'S PSALTER; containing a Selection of Psalm Tunes, Chaunts, Services, and other Ecclesiastical Music, with Psalms appointed for every Sunday, Vigil, and Holy Day throughout the year. The Psalms selected as appropriate to each clay, from the New Version of the Psalms of David, authorized to be sung in Churches. By the Rev. "Wm. J. E. Bennett, M.A., Perpetual Curate of S. Paul's Knights- bridge. The Music arranged for congregational singing, hi four parts, with an accompaniment for the organ or pianoforte, by the late Robert Carter, Organist of S. Pauls Church, Knightsbridge. Price £1. 2s. in cloth. THOUGHTS ON THE OBSERVANCE OF LENT, "■- by Sir Archibald Edmonstone, Bart., Author of the " Christian Gentleman's Daily Walk." In royal 32mo, bound, price 6d. TEARS OF THE CHURCH. WYATT'S LACHRYJVLE ECCLESLE : the Anglican * ' Reformed Church and her Clergy in the Days of their Destitution and Suffering, during the great Rebellion of the Seventeenth Century. By the Rev. George Wyatt, LL.B., E.S.A., Rector of Burghwallis, Don- caster. Foolscap 8vo. Second edition, price 3s. 6d. cloth. A CATECHISM EOR SOPHS, by the Rev. H. M. Grover, "^- B.C.L., Rector of Hitcham, Bucks. In foolscap 8vo., cloth, red edges, price 2s. This summary of Scriptural doctrines is designed to give settled and correct views upon several subjects relating to the spiritual world, which suggest themselves more especially to those whose minds are directed to the researches of ancient literature. NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY A VOICE FROM STONEHENGE. By the same Author. In demy 8vo., part I, and to be continued in parts. This work proposes to investigate the rumours of Antiquity relative to the origin of the Pruidical Temples, and the ancient families of Europe. The work -will be published in parts, and be prepared for binding into suitable volumes at its close. As the object is, "to investigate," the Editor would be happy to receive any remarks on the published numbers, which should be noticed as far as possible in each succeeding part, in an appendix, so as not to deteriorate from the integrity of the principal work. Such, being directed to the Publisher, would receive due attention. (^LEAVER'S COMPANION FOR CHURCHMEN; a Calendar : containing the Lessons with the Vigils, Easts, Festivals, &c, as they are appointed to be read, or observed, by the Church of England in her Book of Common Prayer, daily throughout the year 1850. In 32mo, gilt edges, price 3d., or on a sheet for Vestries, 4d. T ECTURES, EXPOSITORY AND PRACTICAL, ON AJ THE BOOK OF DANIEL; delivered in the Parish Church of Madron, Cornwall, by the Rev. "William Wood, AM. In 1 vol. foolscap 8vo, price 5s. cloth. "DELIGIOUS LIBERTY, AND THE CHURCH IN "■"*' CHAINS. Being an attempt to set forth the grounds upon which a number of the Clergy are at present associated, to obtain a Restoration of Corrective Discipline in the English Church. By James Bradby Sweet, MA., Perpetual Curate of Woodville, Leicestershire. In 8vo., sewed, price 2s. 6d. "The Services of the Church were made for those who wish to go on regularly in a course of Christian teaching, and Christian performance : and then we may reasonably hope that then eternal state will be a happy one. We cannot make a religious service for those who break their Christian vows, and live in opposition to the laws of a Holy Church. They must answer for themselves." — Village Conversations on the Burial Service, by George Davys, D.D., Bishop of Peterborough. TALES OF KIRKBECK; OR THE PARISH IN X THE EELLS. By the Author of "Lives of Certain Fathers," &c Second edition, in 1 vol. cloth, 3s. 6d., or by post, 4s. " We trust these tales will obtain the circulation they deserve, and be but the forerunner of others from the same pen." — Guardian. T IVES OF CERTAIN FATHERS OF THE CHURCH ±J INTHE FOURTH CENTURY. Edited by the Rev. W. J. E. Bennett, M.A., late Student of Christ Church, Oxford, and Perpetual Curate of S. Paul's, Knightsbridge. In 1 vol., fcap. 8vo., 6s., by post 6s. 6d. THE ALSO, BY THE SAME AUTHOR, NAVVIES. No. I. HARRY JOHNSON. Price 3d. No. 2. FRANK MEADE. Price 4d. W. J. CLEAVER, PICCADILLY. ©efcottonal OToiH ADAPTED TO THE USE OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH, FROM THE WORKS OF FOREIGN DIVINES. EDITED BY THE EEV. E. B. PUSEY, D.D. THE SPIRITUAL COMBAT, AND THE SUPPLE- - 1 - MENT: with the Path of Paradise, or the Peace of the Soul. By Scupoli. (From the Italian.) With Frontispiece, 3s. 6d. THE YEAR OF AFFECTIONS ; or, Sentiments on the "*■ Love of God, drawn from the Canticles, for every day in the year. By Avrillon. 6s. 6d. THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. - 1 " (A Commentary on Thomas a Kempis.) By Surin, 4s. 6d. A GUIDE FOR PASSING ADVENT HOLILY. By -^ Avrillon. "With Frontispiece, 6s. A GUIDE FOR PASSING LENT HOLILY. By "*■ Avrillon. Second edition, with Frontispiece, 7s. PARADISE FOR THE CHRISTIAN SOUL. By •*■ Horst. 2 vols., 6s. 6d. THE LIFE OF JESUS CHRIST IN GLORY; Daily "*■ Meditations from E aster D ay to the Wednesday after Trinity Sunday. By Nouet. 8s. TT YMNS FOR THE WEEK AND SEASONS. Trans- - 1 " 1 - lated from the Latin. 1 vol., fcap. 8vo., cloth, price 4s. COME MEDITATIONS AND PRAYERS SELECTED ° FEOM THE WAY OF ETERNAL LIFE. Translated from the Latin, and adapted to the use of the English Church, by the Rev. Isaac Williams, B.D., of Trinity College, Oxford, Author of the " Baptistery," &c, &c. 1 vol., 8vo., cloth, price 10s. 6d. T)EVOTIONS FOR HOLY COMMUNION. Extracted *-* from " Paradise for the Christian Soul." 1 vol., 18mo., cloth, Is. T ITANIES TAKEN FROM HOLY SCRIPTURES TO ± - i THE MOST HOLY TRINITY; also for Penitents— for Obtaining Christian Virtues — in Preparation for the Holy Communion— on the Life and Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ — in Preparation for Death. Royal 32mo., price 6d., by post lOd. NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY THE HEART'S EASE, or a Remedy against all Troubles. By Bishop Patrick. Super-royal 32m o., with portrait. THE ILLUMINATED BOOK OF PRAYERS FOR -^ CHILDREN". Bordeiings printed in gold and Colours. Foolscap 8vo., cloth, price 5s. MOSHEIM'S INSTITUTES OF ECCLESIASTICAL XU - HISTORY, ANCIENT AND MODERN. A new and literal Translation from the original Latin, and copious additional Notes, original and selected ; "by Thomas Murdoek, D.D. Edited, with additional Notes, by Henry Soames, M.A., Rector of Stapleford Tawney, with Thoydon Mount, Essex. A new and revised edition. 4 vols., 8vo., cloth, £2. 8s. €i)e Mtb. ffiOtlltam Smmtt's WLotk$. THE EUCHARIST, its History, Doctrine, and Practice, -*■ with Meditations and Prayers suitable to that Holy Sacrament. Second Edition. In demy 8vo, 12s. cloth. PRINCIPLES OF THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER -*- CONSIDERED; a Series of Lecture-Sermons. 1 vol. foolscap 8vo, price os. 6d. *** The library edition, demy 8vo, cloth, price 12s. may still be had. T)ISTINCTIVE ERRORS OF ROMANISM; a Series of Lecture-Sermons. Third edition, 8vo, cloth, price 13s. Each Lec- ture sold separately, price 8d. QERMONS ON MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS, with ^ Introduction, Notes, &c. Two vols. 12mo, price 14s. boards ; or separately, Vol. I, 6s. 6d., Vol. II, 7s. 6d. nUIDE TO THE HOLY EUCHARIST; forming in the ^ second volume a Companion to the Altar. Two vols. 18mo, 8s. cloth. GINS OF THE CHURCH AND PEOPLE ; a Sermon. With an Appendix concerning the Holy Communion on Days of Fasting. In demy 8vo, third edition, sewed, price Is. f)N THE SCHISM OF CERTAIN PRIESTS AND w OTHERS LATELY IN COMMUNION WITH THE CHURCH. A Sermon. Second edition, 8vo, price 6d. THREE SERMONS, explaining the new Marriage Act with regard Lo Churchmen and Dissenters. 12mo, price Is. W. J. CLEAVER, PICCADILLY. pEIME AND EDUCATION; the Duty of the State ^ therein. Demy 8vo, price 3s. sewed. A PASTORAL LETTER TO HIS PARISHIONERS. In demy 8vo, price 6d. sewed. TABLE OF CHURCH SERVICE, at Matins and Even- song, and Holy Communion. Demy 8vo, on a card, printed in red and black, price 2d. each, or 14s. per 100 for distribution. A SECOND VOLUME OF LETTERS TO MY CHIL- ■^ DREN ON CHURCH SUBJECTS, by the same Author, is in a forward state of preparation, and will shortly be published. THE SOUND POLICY OF THE EXISTING LAW X OF MARRIAGE, as prohibiting the union of a Widower with his Deceased Wife's Sister, vindicated : with a brief exposure of the "Reasons" by which the advocates of this alliance attempt to justify then views. By George Wray. In 8vo, sewed, price Is. THE TITHE REDEMPTION TRUST. A Letter to the Lord Lyttelton : from William Wyndham Malet, Vicar of Ardeley, and Hon. Secretary to the Trust. In 8vo, sewed, price 6d. THOUGHTS ON THE MANAGEMENT CLAUSES. Respectfully addressed to the Members of the Rochester Diocesan Board of Education. By Charles B. Pearson, M.A., Rector of Knebworth, Herts. 8vo, price 6d., by post 10d. pROBATIO CLERICA ; or, Aids in Self-Examination to -*- Candidates for Holy Orders, or for those of the Clergy who may de- sire them, with Hints on College Life. By the Rev. W. E. Hey gate, M.A., author of Godfrey Davenant. Eoolscap 8vo, cloth, 3s. 6d. "POUR LECTURES ON THE FIRST AND SECOND - 1 - Advent of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; delivered in the Parish Church of Leeds, by the Rev. Henry Dalton, A.M., Trinity College, Dublin. In 1 vol. demy 8vo, price Is. 6d. cloth. "RODY, SOUL, AND SPIRIT. A Sermon, by the same "■"^ Author. 8vo, price 6d. (Published by request.) TARVIS'S CHRONOLOGICAL INTRODUCTION TO ° THE HISTORY OF THE CHURCH; being a New Inquiry into the true Dates of the Birth and Death of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and containing an original Harmony of the Four Gospels arranged in the exact order of time : by the Rev. Samuel Farmar Jarvis, D.D.,LL.D., Historiographer of the Church, Member of the American Philosophical Society. 8vo, price 25s. cloth. NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY THE ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES OE THE CYMRY; or, the Ancient British Church'; its History, Doctrine, and Rites. By the Rev. John Williams, M.A., of Nerquis, Diocese of S. Asaph. In I vol. 8vo, cloth, price 10s. 6d. "DIED ON THE DECALOGUE.— The Law a Kule of "^ Life to the Christian ; considered in Eleven Lectures, preached in the Parish Church of G-ainsborough during Lent 1844; by the Rev. Charles Smith Bird, MA., E.L.S., Vicar of Gainsborough and Prebend of Lincoln, late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Foolscap 8vo. price 4s. 6d. cloth. T ENT LECTURES. The Use of the Catechism, the Baptismal Vow, and the Means of Grace, considered in Twelve Lectures, preached in Lent 1841. By the same Author. Foolscap 8vo. price 3s. 6d. cloth. A DISCOURSE OE THE EIGHT OE THE CHURCH - t - L in a Christian State; by Herbert Thornchke, B.D., formerly Pre- bendary of Westminster. Originally printed in 1649. A new edition, with an Appendix, General Index, &c, and. Preface, by the Rev. J. S. Brewer, M.A., of Queen's College, Oxford; Classical Tutor of King's College, London. 12mo, cloth, bds., reduced to 4s. pLOSE'S (The late Eev. Henry Jackson) FAMILY ^ PRAYERS, Second Edition, 18mo, cloth, price Is. 6d. "DISHOP OE JAMAICA'S CHAEGE, delivered at the Primary Visitation of the Clergy of the Archdeaconry of Jamaica, in the Cathedral Church of S. Jago de la Vega, 12th December, 1844. By Aubrey George, Lord Bishop of Jamaica. 8vo. cloth limp, 2s., sewed Is. 6d. MOOEE'S UNIVEESITY SERMONS. Eour Sermons •^ preached before the University of Cambridge in December, 1844; by Daniel Moore, M.A., of Catherine Hall, and Perpetual Curate of Camden Chapel, Camberwell. 8vo. cloth, price 4s. ILLUSTRATIONS OE THE SAINTS' DAYS AND X OTHER FE STIVALS. Lectures delivered in the Parish Church of Burghfield, Berks, by the Rev. Henry Curtis Cherry, M.A., Rector, Domestic Chaplain to the Right Hon. Lord de Saumarez. Ecap. 8vo. 2 vols, in one, price 9s. cloth. TJYMNAEIUM ANGLICANUM; or, the Ancient Hymns J " L of the Anglican Church; translated from the Latin of the Salisbury Breviary, and fitted to the tunes used in Churches. 18mo. cloth, gilt edges, price 2s. W. J. CLEAVER, PICCADILLY, A MANUAL OF ENGLISH GEAMMAE, adapted to the use of the Upper Classes in Parochial Schools. By the Eev. Charles J. Smith, M.A., of Christchurch, Oxford; late Curate of S. Paul's, Knights- bridge; Domestic and Examining Chaplain to the Lord Bishop of Jamaica. In 1 vol. foolscap 8vo, cloth, price Is. 6d. QNE HOME IN ALL LANDS; a Farewell Sermon, ^ preached in S. Paul's Church, Knightsbridge. By the same Author. Demy 8vo, price Is. sewed. TLLUSTEATIONS OF THE DOCTEINE AND DISCI- x PEINE OF THE CHUECH, from the Apostolical Fathers, S. Clement of Eome, S. Ignatius, and S. Poly carp ; by Charles Thomas Wilson, M.A., Curate of the Parish of Liverpool. 12mo, price 4s. cloth. XJISTOEY AND ANTIQUITIES OF MELBOUEN ±± CHUECH, DEEBYSHIEE ; by the Eev. Joseph Deans, M.A., Vicar of Melbourn, Perpetual Curate of Chellaston, Derbyshire, and Domestic Chaplain to the Eight Honourable the Earl of Beverly. 8vo, with plates by Gray, price 5s. cloth. (JUIDE TO THE HUSTINGS— Cleaver's Parliamentary ^ Elections' Eegister; for ascertaining the Eesults of any General Election, or the State of Parties, as represented in the House of Commons, at any period during the continuance of any existing Parliament. Fcap. 8vo, cloth, Is. 6d. TEIBUTE TO HYDEOPATHY; or, a Few Practical Hints to Invalids, who are desirous of getting well without Medicine. Being a short Account of the Treatment pursued at Stanstead Bury. By Sir John E. Eardley "Wilmot, Bart., Barrister-at-Law. Second edition, with considerable additions. Price Is. 6d. THE EOUND PREACHEE ; or, Eeminiscences of Me- thodist Circuit Life ; by an Ex-Wesleyan. 1 vol. cloth, 6s. QAUL, A MYSTEEY; by the Author of "Christian Ballads," &c, &c. In 1 vol. post 8vo, cloth, price 6s. A MBEOSE WAED ; or, the Dissenter Eeclaimed. A Tale "^- for the Times. Foolscap 8vo, cloth 4s. 6d. QHEPPEETON MANOE; or, the Days of Bishop Andrew es. By the Eev. J. Mason Neale, M.A., author of " Herbert Tresham," &c, &c. Fcap. 8vo, price 5s. cloth. POTTAGE ON THE COMMON, THE LITTLE ^ GLE ANEES, &c, .See. By C. M., Author of " Ehoda," " Child and Hermit," " The Tent," &c. 1 vol. square 16mo. with 4 plates, price 2s. cloth. Second edition. 10 NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY THE CHURCHMAN'S SUNDAY EVENINGS AT X HOME. By the Rev. Alexander Watson, M. A., Curate of S. John s, Cheltenham. 2 vols. 12mo, price 18s. cloth ; or separately, Vol. 1, 7s. 6d., Vol. 2, 10s. 6d. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. pRAYER BOOK A SAEE GUIDE: or, the Devout Churchman's Way of Faith and Practice. Lectures delivered at S. John's, Cheltenham. Fcap. 8vo, 4s. 6d. cloth. T ETTERS ON CONFIRMATION. A Manual of Moral and Religious Duties, designed for the Young of her own sex in the Upper Ranks of Society, by a Lady. In 1 vol. fcap. 8vo, price 2s. 6d. cloth. pSALMS AND HYMNS. Selected and adapted to the -*- purposes of Public Worship. By the Rev. Edward Scobell, M.A. 18mo, cloth, 2s. Fifth edition. ^NNUAL REGISTER FOR 1848. 8vo, 16s. T)EBRETT'S PEERAGE FOR 1849. A Genealogical and Heraldic Peerage of Great Britain and Ireland, revised, cor- rected, and continued, by Henry Collen, Esq. 8vo. half-bound roan, 30s. With an Appendix to the present time. WILMOT'S MIDSHIPMAN'S FRIEND; or, Hints for '* the Cockpit. By Arthur Parry Eardley Wilmot, Captain Royal Navy. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. cloth. Second Edition. lyTANNING THE NAVY. By the same Author. - L ' J - A Statement in which the evils and losses arising from the present system are set forth, and a remedy is proposed, whereby a permanent Navy may be established, and the moral, social, and physical condition of the British Seaman improved. 1 vol. fcap. 8vo. Uniform with the above, price 3s. 6d., cloth. " We close the book with the most hearty commendation." — United Service Magazine. " Among all who have entered the arena for this momentous debate, we have not met with one (to the best of our judgment) more deserving of public attention than Commander Eardley Wilmot. He is a practical re- former, with zeal enough, but not enough to lead him into wild theories, and unattainable wishes in the ideal realms of human perfection." — Literary Gazette. "We strongly recommend the work of the gallant commander to the attention both of government and of the public." — Norfolk Chronicle. " There are many home truths in this little volume — many undeniable facts illustrating the unfortunate, we had almost said, but at least unde- sirable position of 'the Royal Navy. Captain Wilmot has spoken fully and candidly on the subject, and his work deserves a careful perusal." — Nautical Magazine. W. J. C1EAYER, PICCADILLY. 11 Crafts, etc* A FEW WORDS TO PARISH SCHOOLMASTERS. - 01 - By W. E. H. Price 2d., or Is. 9d. per dozen. THE DOCTRINE OF THE SACRAMENTS AS X CONTAINED IN THE CHUKCH CATECHISM, familiarly illustrated and proved froni Holy Scripture, intended principally for the young. By the Rev. James Smith, M.A., Incumbent of Eorgue. Price 2d., stiff cover, or Is. 9d. per dozen. A LITANY, AND PRAYERS EOR PENITENTS, Intended for use during the threatened visitation of the Cholera. By the Rev. W. B. Elower, B.A. Price 2d., or 14s. per 100. pRAYERS FOR GROWN PEOPLE. Printed in red and black. On a sheet, price one penny, or 6s. 6d. per hundred. TTOLY THOUGHTS THROUGH THE WEEK. Printed A in red and black. On a large sheet for cottage walls. Price 6d. each, or, 4s. per dozen, on direct application to the publisher. A CALL TO THE DEVOUT OBSERVANCE OF • £y - PASSION WEEK. Price 2d. AN EARNEST ADDRESS TO YOUNG CHURCH- -^ MEN upon Present Spiritual Temptation. By the Rev. W. E. Heygate, A.M., price 2d. THE HOUSE OF SPIRITS; an Allegory. By the X Bev. W. E. Heygate, M.A., price 2d. FRIDAY DEVOTIONS; or, Prayers and Exercises in "*- Historical Order. 12mo. sewed, 4d. By the same Author. THE SMUGGLER WARNED; or, the History of -*- Isaac "Wilson. 12mo . price 2d. JUDGE NOT; or, an Earnest Warning to the Youth of this Generation against a Critical and Controversial Spirit Price 2d. "PLEE FORNICATION; a Sermon preached on the x Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany, and published in the believed absence of any Tract upon the Subject. Price 2d. AN EXTRACT FROM ARCHDEACON HARE'S Sermon, intended for the Student to paste in the cover of any much- used book. Price One Halfpenny. 12 NEW WORKS PUBLISHED BY AN EASY CATECHISM ON THE APOSTLES' • n - CREED. By the Rev. John Williams, M.A., of Nerquis, Diocese of St. Asaph. Author of "Ecclesiastical Antiquities of the Cymry." Fourth edition, price 2d., by post 3d., or Is. 9d. per dozen. A FEW PLAIN AND PRACTICAL OBSERVATIONS ■"■ ON CHRISTIAN EDUCATION. By the same Author. 12mo. sewed, for distribution, price 4d. TABLE OF CHURCH SERVICE, at Matins and Even- song, and Holy Communion. Demy 8vo., on a card, printed in red and black, price 2d. each, or 14s. per 100 for distribution. J^ PRAYER OF FAITH, from Bishop Andrewes, Id. A LICE PARKER ; by the Author of " Susan Carter," &c, •^ &c.,2d. "ELEMENTARY GRAMMAR. For the Use of Village ±J Schools, 2d. pUSEYISM; a Short Dialogue between a Lady and a -■" Parson. Fourth Thousand. Foolscap 8vo., price Id. or 7s. per 100. WHAT IS CONFIRMATION? By W. J. E. On a * * card, price Id. or 7s. per 100. TABLE OF PSALMS AND HYMNS. *** price 2d. On a card, SERMONS. One Penny each, or 10|d. per dozen. 1. The Evils of Prejudice. 2. How to Hear Sermons. 3. The Partition Wall. 4. True Trust. 5. Inattention in Prayer. 6. Lord's Prayer. — No. 1. 7. Self-Justification. 8. Love One Another. 9. The Necessity of Communion. 10. The Acceptable Offerer. 11. Lord's Prayer. — No. 2. 12. Christ's Presence in Ordi- nances. 13. EachOne his Brother's Keeper. 14. Reverence to Christ. 15. Love "Works Patience. 16. Lord's Prayer.— No. 3. 17. Unpractical Faith. 18. Christian Stewardship. 19. True Causes of Unhappiness. 20. Lord's Prayer. — No. 4. 21. Duty of Parents towards their Children. 22. "Water Baptism, and Spirit Baptism. 23. Meekness. 24. New Year, 1849. 25. Am I in a State of Grace ? 26. Let Children be Children. 27. 28. 29. 30. W. J. CLEAVER, PICCADILLY. 13 FESTIVALS, &c. One Penny each, or 10|d. per dozen. A Feast of S. Andrew. H Feast of the Conversion of S. B Feast of S. Thomas. Paul. C Feast of S. Stephen. I Day of the Martyrdom of King D Feast of S. John the Evangelist. Charles the First. E Feast of the Holy Innocents. K Feast of the Purification of the F Feast of the Circumcision. Blessed Virgin. G Feast of the Epiphany. TRACTS. One Penny each, or 10|d. per dozen. 1. Humility. 7. On Self-Denial. 2. Simplicity in Dress. 8. I Could not Help it. 3. Too Late. 9. Real Conversion. 4. Let Nothing be Lost. 10. The Shallow Soil. 5. Beware of Little Things. 11. The Self-Rejection of Non* 6. Five Minutes' Advice on Be- communicants. nefit Clubs. 12. A few Words to Parents. TA1 Twopence each, oi 1. The Vicar and his poor Neigh- bours. 2. Story about Charles the First and his Children. 3. Carry and Milly. 4. The Lizzard Light. 5. Mary Burton, or the Bright Halfpenny. Several new ones w JES. Is. 9d. per packet 6. The Child's Cross. 7. Father Joe. 8. Susan Palmer. 9 & 10. Baby's Baptism (4d.) 11. S. Cuthbert of Lindisfarne. 12. The Fugitive King. 13. Ellen Harding. ill oe ready shortly. One Penny each, 1. The Wreck of the Pegasus. 2. Ann Dale, 3. The Bundle of Sticks. 4. Cousin Gertrude. 5. Little Travellers. Several oth or 10| per dozen. 6. The Wet Sunday Evening. 7. A Sunday Talk. 8. Disasters of a Frolicsome Pig. 9. The Two Heroes. 10. The Little Savoyard. ers shortly. *•& . 73 THE CHURCH TTARDEE, AND TOWN AND X COUNTRY MISCELLANY. Published Monthly, price Twopence. As the public will he naturally anxious to know in what degree and to what extent the Church Warder will he affected "by the recent change of management, we hasten to lay "before them a concise statement of the objects we have in view, and the principles which will he enunciated in its pages. And, first, we intend that our little periodical shall have a definite mis- sion. It has long heen our own conviction, that a magazine, especially intended for circulation in rural parishes, and carefully prepared with such an ohject in view, would he the means, under God, of producing an incalculable amount of good. Intended for circulation among the less educated of our brethren, the style of the several articles will he plain, earnest, and practical. Our pages will henceforth contain short tales and allegories ; brief expositions of Holy Scripture, selected from the Fathers, or written hy modern divines; biographical sketches; extracts from sources old and new; and cha- racteristic notices of such hooks, prints, &c, as maybe deemed suitable for a Churchman's library, or the school-room. We shall, moreover, direct attention to such questions as may seem of general interest to the working classes, especially such as bear upon domestic and social life. The name will still be retained, and the principles of the Church of England honestly and fearlessly maintained. We shall studiously en- deavour neither to come short of, nor to go beyond the limit of the Church's teaching. Whatever she teaches, we shall explain and enforce to the best of our power, striving to build our brethren in the faith once for all delivered to the Saints. Thus much may suffice to show, in some measure, what we purpose doing; and we can only express a hope that the Clergy will co-operate with us, should they find us worthy of their confidence. We are content to be tried by our deeds, rather than our words. Our pages must speak for themselves. THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER and ADMINIS- -*- TRATION OF THE SACRAMENTS and other Rites and Cere- monies of the Church, according to the Use of the United Church of England and Ireland; together with the Psalter or Psalms of David, pointed as they are to be sung or said in Churches : and the Form and Manner of making, ordaining and consecrating of Bishops, Priests, and Deacons. In 16mo. richly rubricated and beautifully printed on extra superfine paper. Kept in every style of antique and modern binding. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: April 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 (724)779-2111 — '■-r- LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 490 795 4