LTHOUGH Thomas Hood is chiefly remembered by his three poems, "The Song of the Shirt," "The Bridge of Sighs," and "Eugene Aram," he was one of the most copious writers of his time. He was apprenticed in his youth to a wood-engraver, and had some success as a comic draughtsman. He began very early to write verses for periodicals, and, in 1822, became assistant editor of The London Magazine. He was now thrown into the company of a most brilliant circle of literary men, including DeQuincey, Hazlitt, and Lamb. He married in 1824, and, with the aid of his brother-in-law, published a small volume of "Odes and Addresses to Great People." A short time afterward he wrote a series of magazine articles called "Whims and Oddities," illustrated by himself, and soon became a very popular writer. In 1830 Hood began the publication of the Comic Annual, which continued for eleven years. The failure of a business house with which he was connected involved him in great financial difficulty, and, refusing to take advantage of legal bankruptcy, he resolved, in order to live with greater economy, to remove to Coblenz in Germany, and, like Sir Walter Scott, pay his indebtedness by the work of his pen. He resided abroad for five years, returning to London in 1840, where he was editor of the New Monthly for two or three years. A pension was granted him in 1844, but he lived to enjoy it only until the following year. Hood has been regarded too exclusively as a humorist. In his best poems the element of humor is entirely wanting, but in most of his work there is a wonderful blending of humor and pathos. "He tempts men to laugh, and then leads them to pity and relieve." Though his wit was caustic, it was never coarse, and no single suggestion of impurity can be found in any of his writings. W ITH fingers weary and worn, THE SONG OF THE SHIRT. With eyelids heavy and red, Plying her needle and thread Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch, "Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! Till the stars shine through the roof! Along with the barbarous Turk, |