A CHAPTER ON ANNUALS. 491 



We now come to the FRIENDSHIP'S OFFERING, one of the 

 oldest of its brethren, and find that " age has not staled its infinite 

 variety." The frontispiece, " The Devotee," by Moore (a name new 

 to our eyes, as an artist) , is a very graceful work. " My First Love," * 

 the next print, is pretty, the mouth excepted, which shews the " fair 

 pearls within" a little too much. " Innocence," by Parris, is the en- 

 graving among the others which gratifies us most for its softness, de- 

 licacy, and female loveliness. There is, nevertheless, something of 

 the eternal " Bridesmaid " about it. " Venus and .ZEneas," from the 

 abundant hand of John Martin, presents his usual amphitheatrical 

 pomp of city, and grove, and mountain. " The Albanian," by 

 Purser, reminds us, in the face of his Goatherd, a thought too much 

 of our old favourite Stothard, the position is likewise laboured ; but 

 the picture, with its profusion of herbage, its goats in the fore-ground, 

 and others clambering up the hills in the distance, is not without 

 merits of its own. " The Bali-Room," by Stephanoff, is very com- 

 mon-place in all respects, subject, figures, and execution. " The 

 Gondola," by Richter, introduces a novel effect the face of one fair 

 Signora seen through the transparent, flowing veil of another, This 

 is at least ingenious. But the principal face " likes us not:" it is 

 not Venitian, and, worse still, it is not very expressive of what it is 

 intended to express. The other parts of this print, however, are 

 touched with skill, and produce a pleasing effect. " The Absent," 

 by Parris again (who seems the pet artist of the volume), is a very 

 luxurious head of one of Love's Magdalens, with the usual acces- 

 sories a portrait and a tear. The remaining subjects are of the 

 usual run not very good, but by no means bad. 



The literary department is rich, Here we find good names and 

 true, Barry Cornwall, Charles Whitehead, Mrs. Norton, Miss Mit- 

 ford, Pringle, and last, but not least, S. T. Coleridge. The latter 

 gentleman, however, seems to us to be rinsing out his Heliconian 

 flask ; for, with the exception of a poem which we shall quote below, 

 his contribution to the inundation of verse which, like the Nile, 

 drowns us once a-year, is of the very dregs and washings of his 

 memory. His " light-heartedness in rhyme," is not at all lightness, 

 unless it be what Shakspeare calls " heavy-lightness feather of 

 lead;" and the sub-title to one series of his verses, <e Expectoration 

 First," and " Expectoration Second," affected, and not over-delicate. 

 In the lines we shall quote he is more like himself: 



LOVE'S APPARITION AND EVANISHMENT. 



AN ALLEGORIC ROMANCE. 



Like a lone Arab, old and blind, 



Some Caravan had left behind ; 



Who sits beside a ruin'd Well, 



Where basking Dipsads f hiss and swell : 

 And now he hangs his aged head aslant, 

 And listens for a human sound in vain ! 



* We have since understood that this very pretty face is a likeness of the 

 Miss Perfect, of Hammersmith, lately immortalized by the " fetch" of the 

 Duke of Cumberland. 



f* The asps of the sand-deserts, anciently named Dipsads. 



