The Sun.
London, England, 1834-10-16 00:00:00

THE ANNUALS.

FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING.
Smith, Elder 6^ Co. London, 1835.
Among the second order of Annuals, we know not
one that is more deserVing of praise than the " Friend-
ship's Offering" of this year. When we say second
order, we would be understood to refer solely to the
illustrations, for the prose and poetry of the little gem
before us are worthy .of the best Annual that was ever
yet published. Barry Cornwall contributes not less
than three poems, all of which are creditable specimens
of his genius, while one entitled " Thirteen Years
Ago," is in his very best manner ; full of tenderness,
yet without an atom of sickly sensibility. The " Ro-
mance of Love"—what a taking title for an Annual I
is from the pen of a gentleman named St. John, who,
though evidently a practised writer, yet brings to his
subject all the freshness and enthusiasm of a novice. His
tale is well told, and would have been still more effective,
had he kept probability more in view. However, the
very title of his story suggests an apology for this
blemish. The author of " Truckleborough Hall,"—
a novel that had some popularity in its day, though
now numbered " among the things that were,"—gives
a clever, and somewhat satirical sketch of " an old
bachelor and his sister." Miss Mitford, too, contri-
butes her widow's mite in the shape of a village
story, which, readable as it is, is yet too much
marked by the sameness that characterizes all
this lady's rustic sketches. We wish she would
go out of herself a little more, and take
an interest in the great world, as well as in the little
one that lies immediately about her. There " are
more things in heaven and earth" than seem to be
" dreamed of in the philosophy" of the fair historian
of " Three-Mile-Cross." The " Illustrations of
Friendship's Offering," though far from being first-
rate, are yet skilful specimens of the art. The best
one, that of a bonny " Scotch Lass," of course
forms the frontispiece ; it is finished with infinite deli-
cacy; and the engraver has been fortunate in preserving
the arch expression of countenance of the painting.
The " Intercepted Letter," though it has good bits
about it, yet betrays marks of slovenliness. The fea-
tures of the old woman, who is lecturing her grand-
daughter on the heinous impropriety of receiving love-
letters in secret, are not sufficiently distinct. . The
mouth is scarcely perceptible. " The Sultan's Daugh-
ter" is executed with spirit, but the fingers are,most
preposterously long. The figure is that of a giantess ;
the hands those of a dwarf. " A Scene in the Ap-
penines" is a landscape sketch ; the perspective of
which is beautifully outlined. The painting from
which this engraving has been made is by Barrett, and
reminds us of one of Claude's, in the style, quality, and
variety of its details.

COMIC OFFERING.
Smith 8S Co. London, 1835.

If this volume fail to become popular, it will not be
the fault of the contributors. Each has done his best
to be facetious, and resolved to let no ten consecutive
lines pass without a pun. The consequence is that
the book is crammed as full of these petty verbal wit•
ticisms as a Christmas pudding with plumbs. We are
aware that it is somewhat hazardous to say aught in
disparagement of punning, inasmuch as its advocates
urge the examples of Rabelais, Shakspeare, and
Swift, as proofs that it is a highly commendable and
intellectual practice ; nevertheless we cannot but feel
that both Rabelais and Shakspeare would have been
far better without their puns—which are intolerably
heavy and impertinent--while, as regards Swift, all his
really humorous productions, such as the " Tale of the
Tub," " Gulliver," and even his familiar " Journal to
Stetta," are singularly free from them. A professed
punster is a man fit only to herd with the kangaroos
of South Wales. We never met with but one, and
have always thought it a miracle we survived the
visitation. It is not the humour of expression, but
o !thought, that we admire in the works of those who
have distinguished themselves among us as humorists.
There are no puns in Congreve and Sheridan ;- very few
in Dr. Wolcot—who next to Lucian and Rabelais, is
the greatest master of broad humour that ever existed
—and if Hood has won distinction in the same line,
it is not on account of his puns, but in spite of them.
True, he sins grievously on this score, still he has
the humour of thought to redeem him, is prodigal of
invention, and endowed besides with as quick and
subtle an apprehension of the ridiculous in character
as Theodore Hook himself. Look, too, at O'Doherty
and Peacock I They are no punsters, yet where in
these days shall we find their equals in all that consti-
tutes legitimate humour ? If the " Comic Offering"
possessed nothing but its verbal jokes to recommend it,
we should have dismissed it in a sentence; but it con-
tains sketches of real merit, as respects humour, and
touches of character which those who are conversant
with the manners of the middle classes in the metro-
polis, will at once recognise as genuine. The illustra-
tions are by Seymour, who is a clever caricaturist,
though occasionally a little gross and coarse in his
manner. " Boothia Felix" is capital. Two miserable,
half-starved, frost-bitten arctic navigators are sitting
over a few dying embers in a tent, surrounded by ice-
bergs (which it almost gives one chilblains to look at),
while, to complete the comforts of their condition, a
couple of huge black bears, who are evidently blessed
with a good appetite, are peeping in at the tent, each
selecting his own man for a meal. " Dying for a
Living" is a fine sample of the lean, working curate,
whose face is the very poetry of starvation. We have
selected the two best of the illustrations ; the others
are of the usual average.