dinner at Alderman Barber's in Mersey Street, was perfectly a Barmecide's feast to Yours, very truly, THOMAS HOOD. LAKE HOUSE, Oct. 1, 1834. [But, in spite of the hope expressed that the "Comic" would be out in November, the public did not see the "Comic" until after December. The delay-probably the result of ill-health, either his own or that of my mother, who at this time was seriously indisposed, as readers of the "Memorials" will remember-was, however, amply atoned for by my father in the following characteristic letter to the Editor of the “Athenæum," written on the day after Christmas-day.] DEAR SIR, I beg to lay before you the following letters. As a good deal of bad language has passed, I must request you, like Sir Robert Peel versus Dr. Lushington, "to print the correspondence." I trust it will set at rest a question which has been raised by certain individuals—namely, whether this year the "Comic" will come out if it be called upon. LAKE HOUSE, Dec. 26, 1834. I am, dear Sir, Yours very truly, THOMAS HOOD. (COPY.) The Editors of "Le Panorama des Deux Mondes" presents their compliments at Monsieur Thomas Hood and requests to take a copy of the Comic Annual for the purpose of extracting some bits out of the author, which will be esteemed a considerable favour. It is proposed to say in the end "all these pieces of works are by Mr. Hood so well known for a quiet humour." The Panorama of Two Worlds occupies one large circle, to which the Editors will feel happy to introduce a volume "fort amusant, et fort spirituel." GENTILHOMMES, (COPY.) Comme je ne vis pas dans la cité mais dans la contrée, six milles depuis Londres, je n'ai pas une mode de vous envoyer le Comique Annuel, mais je vous envoye un ordre sur mon publisheur, que je vous prie accepter. Son nom est Monsieur vivant à Montagne à Blé, pres le Change ment Royale. Allez gauchement dans la rue. Je serai bien heureux me trouver dans les Deux Mondes; mais permettez moi de vous mettre droits sur un point. Mon livre peut être "amusant," comme vous êtes si bon à dire, mais il n'a pas attempté être "spirituel." Je ne suis pas un clergé-homme qui écrit les serments. blesse. Je suis, Gentilhommes, Dieu vous Votre très humble domestique, THOMAS HOOD. [THE "Comic 1835. this year is again without a dedication. The whole of its contents has been used for "Hood's Own."] THE COMIC ANNUAL FOR 1835. PREFACE. WELL, men alive!”. -as Walking Stewart used to address the cashier and clerks of a Life Assurance office, where he held an annuity,-" well, men alive, here I am again! Although somewhat later than usual, I am still in good time. The winter is not far advanced-its first snow is now lying on the ground. At all events January is not out, and the Comic is. I do not pretend to compete with the fast ones among my contemporaries, whom "Time gallops withal," till the old mower is blown and distressed by the rattling pace he must go at to keep up with them, to say nothing of the desperate leaps he must take that Christmas may fall about Michaelmas, and the new year begin in October. "There is a time," it is written, "for everything,"-but the saying does not seem to be applied to Annuals :—the "quarter of an hour too soon" recommended by Lord Nelson, is stretched into a quarter of a year. To judge by the distance at which certain editors lay hold of it, Time's forelock must be a thousand times longer than a Chinese pigtail !—but is there Literary gentlemen not something approaching to cruelty to animals, in hauling him along by it till he breaks his shins over his own calendar, or knocks his head against one of his own date trees? He is, we know, a notable Edax Rerum-but is it therefore necessary to give him his dinner at breakfast time? Must he always have his victuals in advance-his Good Friday buns on the Thursday, and his Shrove Tuesday pancakes on the Monday before? Time and tide wait for no man, and in return the editors of the annuals seem deternined not to wait for time or tide. who have no doubt read and relished Thomson, ought to know better than to shuffle the four seasons together like the four suits at cards. It is not decent with their antedated volumes, whilst the old year is still vigorous, to show us the new year standing barefooted, and waiting to slip into his shoes. What would be thought of a sportsman who set before his friends a leash of partridges with a boat of bread-sauce on the glorious 1st of June? What would be said if the waits wouldn't wait, but, "beating time" by two months, began their Christmas serenades upon the festival of St. Simon and St. Jude? What would be done if the boxing beadle of St. Bride's took it into his head to go about carolling his "glad tidings of great joy" on the eve of Gunpowder Plot? But what could would and should be thought said and done if one of these very forward editors thought proper to prematurely salute his lady contributors all round, by warrant of a sprig of mistletoe, on Lord Mayor's day? To be consistent, are the gentlemen in question as precocious in their private as their public habits? Do they put on their winter woollen and great coats at the first hint from Sirius, and slip into nankeens and washing waistcoats at sight of the first snow-drop? Do they unfurl their umbrellas on Midsummer day against St. Swithin, and lay in salt cod and fresh eggs, in January, against Lent in March. In short, do not they anticipate in everything-even to keeping the birthday of "the babe that is unborn" and breakfasting over night, and knocking at number nine to leave a card at number twelve? The "Oriental," with its sultry associations, and those naked natives, might properly appear in the dog days, if duly dated, but what has the "Winter's Wreath" to do with May day? Is it really the nick to produce the Stanfields, when the sickle is in the cornfields? Ought Heaths to appear in London, just when grouse-shooting begins on the Moors? Is it wise to present a Friendship's Offering so long before its ostensible date, that a moderately everlasting friendship might be born, bred, and buried, in the interval— above all, ought the juveniles intended for Christmas and new year's gifts, to come out coeval with "Bartlemy fairings," in the very teeth of the opinion of Donna Inez about juveniles, She reckon'd of all things the most atrocious?" For my own part, I affect none of these unseasonable forestallings I never in my life gave five guineas for a quart of very early peas, or a crown a pound for very new potatoes. I am content with things as they naturally ripen, without forcing; and my gardener, who inclines to otium cum dig-is of the same opinion; forcing thyme is quite out of the question. What rational man would give a dump for a chronometer "warranted fast?" I never, like Scott's stern Covenanter, give the long hand a push forwards, in its course round the dial; feeling at Sol, who drives the Old Regulator, knows his daily pace too well to be deceived; still less should I dream of juggling my royal almanack by having plum-pudding, mince-pie, and snapdragon before the fall of |