st faint shadowy vision of a future pint
of beer dawns on the fancy of the ploughman. Far, very far is it
from being fully developed. Sometimes the idea is rejected;
sometimes it is fostered. At one time he is almost fixed on the
'Red Horse,' but the blazing fire and sedulous kindness of the
landlady of the 'Dun Cow' shake him, and his soul labours! Heavy is
the ploughed land, dark, dreary, and wet the day. His purpose is at
last fixed for beer! Threepence is put down for the vigour of the
ale, and one penny for the stupefaction of tobacco, and these are
the joys and holidays of millions, the greatest pleasure and
relaxation which it is in the power of fortune to bestow."

Such kindly feelings as animated Sydney Smith were found more fully
developed in Thomas Hood. He made his humour minister to philanthropy.
The man who wrote the "Song of the Shirt" felt keenly for all the
sufferings of the poor--he even favoured some of their unreasonable
complaints. Thus he writes the "Address of the Laundresses to the Steam
Washing Company," to show how much they are injured by such an
institution. In a "Drop of Gin," he inveighs against this destructive
stimulant.

"Gin! gin! a drop of gin!
What magnified monsters circle therein,
Bagged and stained with filth and mud,
Some plague-spotted, and some with blood."

He seems not to be well pleased with Mr. Bodkin, the Secretary for the
Society for the Suppression of Mendicity--

"Hail! king of shreds and patches, hail!
Dispenser of the poor!
Thou dog in office set to bark
All beggars from the door!

* * * * *

"Of course thou art what Hamlet meant
To wretches, the last friend;
What ills can mortals have that can't
With a bare _bodkin_ end."

Mr. M'Adam is apostrophized--

"Hail Roadian, hail Colossus, who dost stand,
Striding ten thousand turnpikes on the land?
Oh, universal Leveller! all hail!"

In a sporting dialogue in "Tylney Hall," we have--

"'A clever little nag, that,' said the Squire, after a long
one-eyed look at the brown mare, 'knows how to go, capital action.'

"'A picture, isn't she?' said the Baronet. 'I bought her last week
by way of a surprise to Ringwood. She was bred by old Toby Sparks
at Hollington, by Tiggumbob out of Tolderol, by Diddledumkins,
Cockalorum, and so forth.'

"'An odd fish, old Toby;' sa