he literary
reputation which this elegant work has enjoyed during previous years.
The editor, Mr. Pringle, is a poet of no mean celebrity, and, as we
are prepared to show, his contribution, independent of his editorial
judgment, will do much toward the Friendship's Offering maintaining
its ground among the Annuals for 1829.

There are twelve engravings and a presentation plate. Among the most
beautiful of these are Cupid and Psyche, painted by J. Wood, and
engraved by Finden; Campbell Castle, by E. Goodall, after G. Arnald;
the Parting, from Haydon's picture now exhibiting with his Mock
Election, "Chairing;" Hours of Innocence, from Landseer; La Frescura,
by Le Petit, from a painting by Bone; and the Cove of Muscat, a
spirited engraving by Jeavons, from the painting of Witherington.
All these are of first-rate excellence; but another remains to be
mentioned--Glen-Lynden, painted and engraved by _Martin_, a fit
accompaniment for Mr. Pringle's very polished poem.

The first _prose_ story is the Election, by Miss Mitford, with the
hero a downright John Bull who reads Cobbett. The next which most
attracts our attention is Contradiction, by the author of an Essay on
Housekeepers--but the present is not so Shandean as the last-mentioned
paper; it has, however, many good points, and want of room alone
prevents our transferring it. Then comes the Covenanters, a Scottish
traditionary tale of _fixing_ interest; the Publican's Dream, by Mr.
Banim, told also in the Winter's Wreath, and Gem:

_Thrice_ the brindled cat hath mewed;

and Zalim Khan, a beautiful Peruvian tale of thirty pages, by Mr.
Fraser. The French story, La Fiancee de Marques, is a novelty for an
annual, but in good taste. Tropical Sun-sets, by Dr. Philip, is just
to our mind and measure:--

A setting sun between the tropics is certainly one of the finest
objects in nature.

From the 23rd degree north to the 27th degree south latitude, I used
to stand upon the deck of the Westmoreland an hour every evening,
gazing with admiration upon a scene which no effort either of the
pencil or the pen can describe, so as to convey any adequate idea of
it to the mind of one who has never been in the neighbourhood of the
equator. I merely attempt to give you a hasty and imperfect outline.

The splendour of the scene generally commenced about twenty minutes
before sun-set, when the feathery, fantastic, and regularly
crystallized clouds in the higher regions of the atmos