THE ANNUALS FOR 1843.

THE advance of the gloomy season has brought forth, as usual, its crop of Annuals ; and though they are not now looked for by the reading public with the eager expectation which heralded them when they were new and in vogue, there is still a sufficient number to admit of choice, and perhaps to excite wonder at the continued demand for them. Here we have- 1. The Picturesque Annual.

2. The Gift. 1843. 3. Montgomery's Sacred Gift. 4. The Forget Me Not.

5. Friendship's Offering. 6. The Keepsake.

7. The Book of Beauty. 8. The Draunngroom Scrap -Book. 9. The Juvenile Scrap-Book.

Of this long list The Picturesque may claim the first place ; not only from having a uniform purpose in its illustrations, but a definite object in its literature. Merit, of course, must always depend upon the choice and treatment of the subject ; but The Picturesque has a subject, which the other Annuals have not. The plan of the rest is alike,—if that can be called a plan which re- quires no more of thought or care than concocting a " Miscellany " of old : their merits or their differences, when they happen to differ, are matter of accident, dependent upon the luck or caprice of a contributor, designer, or engraver, and not unfrequently upon causes more trivial still—the bulk of the book, the craft of the papermaker, the taste of the binder. " Old in new state, another yet the same." Nay, not even so, for there is nothing new about them.

A further cause of difference between The Picturesque and its com- rades may perhaps be found in the nature of the undertaking. A gentleman who can pen a sonnet, or a lady who can write a little tale, may pass in the crowd of Annual contributors without any deep estimate of their capacities; but it is another affair when an entire work is to be intrusted to a single hand. The manager may care little about the subordinates, but he scans pretty closely the at- tractions of the star. Paris (and we think for the third time) is the subject of The

Picturesque: the writer is the Parisian celebrity JuLes JANIN : the form of the work is a series of articles written under the flimsy dis- guise of an American visiting the French capital,—which seems to afford no other advantage than enabling the author to make occa- sional hits under the character of a foreigner, which could not be so effectively done as a native. The articles themselves are of a very miscellaneous kind,—relating to society and persons as well u to tangible things, and apparently chosen by the writer with a view to variety, and his own purposes. This defect may be alleged against the entire work as a picture of Paris, that after it is read no very definite impression of Paris is left upon the mind. The virtues and accomplishments of the King, of the Duke of Orleans, of the Princess MARIE, and of the rest of the Royal Family, have been paraded before us ; we have been carried to the Chamber of Deputies and to the Opera green-room ; we have entered some of the hotels, been to some of the theatres, and gazed at some of the public buildings ; among smaller matters, we have been introduced to MEYERBERR as a pianoforte-player in the act of composing, under the gross form of a "vision," (which need not have been a vision at all, since the American on his first night in Paris slept in the next room to that occupied by the mu- sician); yet when all is over, we are something like Cassio "coming round," we "remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly." It must be said, however, that M. JULES JANIN was in some sense fettered by what had been done before in The Picturesque; one volume having exhibited the Courtly history of Paris, and Mrs. Gotta on another occasion having presented a sort of external Guide-book to the French capital. The execution of parts of The American in Paris is better than the conception of the whole; which might be expected from the author's occupation as a daily journalist. Though vitiated, for English readers, by a foreign cast,—especially showing itself in a straining after effect, and a use of complimentary epithets with- out a strict regard to their purpose or propriety,—the articles are very clever, and for the most part readable. They bring before us a good many scenes and persons in the French capital which only an habitué could describe so familiarly : but they do it with more of point than truth, as if the writer were less intent upon describing his subjects as they actually exist than of saying something smart about them. So that, in the best of cases, the manner of JULES JANIN is more present to us than the idea of the thing itself; which is perhaps one reason of the indistinct impres- sion we have spoken of. A peculiar feature of the writer, however, should not be passed over : whatever its forms may be, the essen- tial character of The American in Paris is criticism, and of criti- cism whose aim seems rather to gratify some passion or end of the writer than to elicit truth. Still, in despite of frequent pane- gyric—as upon the Royal Family or M. BERRYER, or of attack— as upon M. Scents, it is astonishing with what clever skill the principal fault or merit is presented. The merits of a foe are Indeed impressed less forcibly than the faults of a friend : we have not so definite an idea of the long-sustained and widely-extended power of amusement displayed by the dramatist, as we have of the practical worthlessness of the Royalist orator's orations, whose eloquence is addressed to an extinct opinion, and therefore labour in vain—vox et preterea nihil.

The work of M. JULES JANIN would admit of large quotation ; but, instead of his general descriptions, we will draw upon his characters, not only for their personal interest, but because they are his best performances, and sometimes by a happy anecdote (although, may be, apocryphal) mark the characteristic quality of the men. The following is an example of two distinct races, the old noble and the new utilitarian.

THE DUKE OF FITZ/AMES AND H. DUPIN raine.

Not far from M. Berryer, there was but lately another Royalist of a good family, but who bad all the right in the world to be a Royalist. He had, I was told, a noble head, a serene look, an appearance of mingled dignity and sin- cerity. He was indeed a nobleman, and in his generous veins flowed some drops of the Royal blood of England. With much intellect, an enlightened mind, an easy elocution, a simple, natural courage, he was called the Due de Fitzjames. Only to see him—his head raised, his decided step, at once haughty and easy—you would recognize one of the types of the old French nobility which are disappearing never to return. The Duke is called James, after that King of England who reigned in the château of St. Germain by ermission of Louis the Fourteenth ; and indeed, King James was his ancestor. He was by birth a Duke and Peer of France under the legitimate King; but when Royalty had passed, the Duke thought there was no longer a Peerage in the country—that these two inheritances sustained each other; and that, the legitimate King exiled, it was necessary that the Peer of the kingdom should at least leave the Pal ice of the Lux!mbourg. He then became a citizen and a landlord. However, after a little reflection, M. de Fitzjames changed his mind, came to the conclusion that it was granting the enemy too great an advantage to abandon his party, and entered the Chamber of Deputies. Thus placed among the newly-made masters who governed France, M. de Fitzjames represented alone the ancient aristocracy which is vanishing day by day : he had its elegance, its wit, its irony, its gene- rosity, its good sense full of ingenuity, its exquisite manners, its diction some- what heavy but yet clear and lucid. In the midst of this ball, filled with citi- zen, of all classes, he had preserved that exquisite politeness which forms such an impassable barrier between a nobleman and his inferiors: in the Chamber he acted like a well-educated man who did not wish to annoy any one, but who at the same time, would not be annoyed himself. When he did the Chamber the honour of addressing it, M. de Fitzjames was quite at his ease, and spoke With the most delightful freedom. He showed a grace exceedingly careless, but at the same time so delicate, that his hearers must have bcen very badly educated not to be pleased with it. In a word, when in a slow quiet voice he repeated to the Chamber a speech made beforehand and learned by heart, the great fear of M. de Fitzjames was to pass for an orator. Thus, when he was eloquent, and this happened often, it was always without knowing it, and above Ill without wishing it.

Whoever wished for a striking contrast with the Duc de Fitzjames, would

certainly have chosen M. Dupin. M. Dupin ! he is the rough, obstinate, vio- lent, haughty citizen. He is so happy to have attained the point of teaching the world ! He is so proud of his power, so proud to see the highest heads bowing before him I Be is so filled with his own importance ! He is called Dupin, Dupin raini. Speak to him respectfully—as for him, he respects no one; speak to him with trepidation—he fears no one. He is familiar even to insolence. I am told, that one day when he was with the King, he struck Louis Philippe's shoulder ; upon which the King, who is almost u great a lord as M. de Talleyrand, said, pointing to the door, " Sorter !" M. Dupin did go out ; but the next day he was at the King's petit lever, humbly asking after his Majesty's health. This man, who is one of the most eminent men in France, is full of contra- dictions. He possesses every kind of courage, and every kind of weakness. He is an orator, lie is a buffoon ; today Cicero, tomorrow Odry ; he passes front the quousque tandem to punning, with admirable facility. He is prouder of his old lawyer's gown than the Due de Fitzjames was of his mantle ornamented with Acura-de-lie as a Peer of France. He has a common, ordinary appear- ance : the smallpox has literally ploughed his face : the peasant of the Danube was not worse dressed , nevertheless, thus built and covered, the Procureite- Geneml de la Cour de Cessation carries his head high, and more than once has asked, in a low voice, if M. d'Aguesseau had as good manners as be. Finally, he has his fits of devotedness and courage ; be has his days of true and sincere modesty, his moments of eelf-denial. His life is strict, studious, quiet, and creditable. To see him, you. would recognize a man of probity. He hu all the virtues of the family, and all its fanaticism.

The character of M. SAUZET, President of the Chamber, is an example of Itera's clever depreciation. The whole is too long to quote, but the following expresses the alleged cause of his rise— his defence of the Ministers of CHARLES the Tenth. The people are excited ; the Chamber of Peers calm, but puzzled ; when, lo 1 a provincial pleader appears upon the scene- " It was at this awful moment, that making his way with much difficulty through the furious crowd that opposed his passage, a provincial avocat—who had never pleaded any thing but provincial causes, before provincial judges, and at provincial bars—found himself suddenly transplanted into the first court in the kingdom, a supreme court ; and called to speak in a cause in which the whole Revolution was concerned. The Ministers of Charles the Tenth—did they exceed their powers in signing the Ordinances? Acquit them ! Bat then, observe what follows : the Revolution of 1830 is a felony. It was well for EL Sauzet that he was born the most courageous of men, and that he had such an excellent opinion of himself as not to draw back even had he been in the presence of alimbeau. At this time, his ignorance of what was fitting in the society around him, his profound contempt for all that was not M. Sauzet, was of great service to him : nothing astonished him— neither the people so agitated, nor the assembly so calm, nor the judges, who were the judges of their own honour, nor the vanquished Ministers, whose heads were demanded: a party-wall, or a water-course, or a question upon mortgage, would not have found M. Sauzet more calm or more at his ease. Thus, whilst his colleagues hesitated—whilst one of them, instead of de. fending his worthy client, found it more simple and natural to faint, like a co- quette who knows not how to reply—M. Sauzet took up the discourse, and calling to his aid a brilliant train of high .sounding words, dazzling periphrasis and anti- thesis, lavishing here and there in rich confusion the newly-blown flowers of his provincial rhetoric, M. Sauzet astonished and confounded his audience. The judges, so preoccupied with the sentence to be passed, were amazed at the co- piousness and composure of this new comer ; and the longer he spoke the better were they pleased with his speaking. Indeed, this long discourse in such cir- cnmstances was something more than a discourse ; it was a respite—a tem- porary cessation of the storm—a shelter during the tempest. The judges of M. de Polignac, while M. Sauzet addressed them, had time to look at each other ; and the longer he spoke, the more apparent was it that a close which could be defended for so long a time and with so many reasons was not so des- perate as had at first been imagined. Thus the verbose sang froid of the avocet rendered an eminent service to the Chamber of Peers and the Revolution of July. To the Chamber of Peers M. Sauzet gave time to recover and to save half, by a sentence which was neither a cowardice nor a subterfuge. The Revolution of July, in sparing the lives of the accused Ministers, deprived itself for ever—and what a triumph was this for a revolution which had been guilty of so few excesses I—of the disgrace of political executions. French society, seeing that in this great Woggle no one WU killed, and, better yet, no one was dishonoured, breathed more freely, and began to hope for better fortune. As for M. Sauzet—incapable of understanding what was passing around him, and not knowing very exactly either what he had said or what he had done—he rubbed his hands with pleasure, and said to himself, that since he had spoken so well on behalf of Ministers, he should some day become a Minister himself. Which has not failed to happen."

THE LABOUR OF RINGCRAFT : LOUIS PHILIPPE.

His life is grave, industrious, and serious. He often rises before daybreak ; as soon as he awakes, his work begins. He reads the despatches of his Am- bassadors; he prepares the labour of the day ; you see that he acts from a knowledge of the importance of one additional day in his reign. He reads very few newspapers, except the English ones; but he tolerates them all. You would find in the King's ante-chamber, by the side of the sheets which defend his government with the greatest amount of conscience and courage, the vilest and most atrocious pamphlets against his person. He says that every one must live, that a pamphlet never killed any but dead men, and that he accepted the inconveniences of the liberty of the press iii accepting its advantages. His breakfast is soon finished ; after which it his Ministers' turn : with these he lives in the greatest familiarity. The man whom he adopts has at once, at all times, a free admission to the King; he is received at any hour of the day or night. The King espouses the cause of his Minister, as he would his own ; be takes an interest in his success in the rostrum, in his success of every kind; he defends him warmly and sincerely, and when he is obliged to displace him, he never says, "Adieu," but, "Au revoir." These gone, he adopts those who come, as be bad adopted their predecessors; so accustomed is this constitu- tional King to the complicated and difficult mechanism of a representative government. The plates of The Picturesque only incidentally illustrate the text, and, like the descriptions, they deal in externals : the greater the crowd, the more vivid the representation. The Mar- riage, and the Family Group are not comparable with the Funeral Pageant of Napoleon and the Masked Ball at the Opera, in which the excitement of the crowds and the brilliant ensemble are expressed with point and animation. The artist, EUGENE LAM, has a better eye for effect than for character : he catches the air of society, but does not draw the figure with precision, and his style is very mannered: the faces in the frontispiece of the children's fancy-ball, for example, are all alike lifeless: Law is the Cmir.ox of crowds.

The Grfft is an American Annual; and, according to the pub-

fishers, is in "every respect an American work "—the contribu- tors, artist's, and all are native. Put into the critical alembic for

analysis, it is probable that The GO might not furnish a greater

quantity of absolute merit than our English Annuals ; but many of its subjects being Transatlantic, they have the novelty derived from change of scene. The scenery, indeed, may be no better than what we have left, but it is a change nevertheless, and bene- ficial for being so. The contributors to the American Annual may not have a more skilful knack than their English confreres, but they bring more zeal and freshness to their task, and, we think, a better knowledge of the things they undertake to write about. Their most obvious fault is verboseness, especially in their introduc- tions; but they display more spirit : they are less relaxed in tone and less faded in tint.

There is nothing peculiar in the plan of The Gift. The con- tributors best known in this country are Mrs. SIGOURNEY, Mrs. Cat-

vans, the authoress of "A New Home " ; the author of" Cromwell," (an Englishman, by the by); and W. G. Sams, the writer of va- rious romances, some of which have been reprinted here in "cheap novelist" libraries. All these contributors furnish American sub- jects,—Mrs. SIGOURNEY, poetry of a pleasant kind ; Mrs. CLAVERS, o couple of agreeable sketches of manners in the far West, though of less value than her volumes, because they are more diffuse, and contain less of actual life. The scene of "The Lover's Leap," by the author of "Cromwell," is laid in the olden time of New England, when the hatred of Cavaliers and Roundheads was rife in the colonies, and the settlers not secure from the hostile incursions of the Indians. The story is founded on a tradition, but has little novelty beyond the generality of the tales of two lovers separated for a while by political differences, except in the circumstances of the scenery and the age : it is, however, written with animation and rapidity. "The Last Wager," by Mr. Smuts, is a tale of a gambler's fate, and an off-hand courtship on the banks of the Mis- sissippi; displaying a good enough picture of out settling life and character, but with little likelihood as a tale.

Of writers less known, at least to us, "The Widower's Conso- lation," by the author of" Billy the Bowl," is a Crayon-like sketch of old-fashioned half Dutch life on Long Island, in a village where widowers are more looked after than even bachelors. "The Adven- turer," by Lieutenant A. A. HARWOOD, is the story of a French savan carried in spite of himself through a long course of adven- tures during the war, and displays an easy knowledge of Spanish scenery and manners. "The Sudden and Sharp Doom" is a tale of piracy in the West Indies, without much of incident in its progress, and somewhat lame and impotent in conclusion, but de- void of exaggeration. "The Militia Training" is not a satirical sketch, but a rather commonplace juvenile sort of story with a moral ; the first incident originating in one of those gatherings. "The Pit and the Pendulum" is an improbable tale, descriptive of a scene of horror in the dungeons of the Inquisition ; and one of the incidents, (the gradual compression of the walls and ceiling of the cell,) borrowed from a story in Blackwood published some years ago. This story, by Mr. FROST, is written with amazing force in the galvanic style, but is about the most Minerva-press-like thing in the Annual. The best article, in our estimation, is "Billy Snub the Newsboy," by SEBA SMITH: not that its mere literary merit is much greater than the others, but it is a picture of homely and actual life—embracing a sketch of the career of an idle workman addicted to tipple, with its effects upon his wife and child ; which do not appear to differ greatly in the new and advancing country of the United States from idleness and drunkenness anywhere else. The story would also seem to indicate that it may be as difficult for a native craftsman to get employment in New York as for a country-hand in London. The picture of the place where Bill Snub the father takes up his abode, and of the sort of life he leads there, shows clearly that English cities do not stand alone in scenes of poverty, brought on less by the kind of vice indicated by Boz, in his sketch of the back-slums of New York, than by impro- vidence and listless idleness. Here is a passing sketch, when Snub, ,having left his native village, has passed the day in perambulating New York with his wife and child.

"Most of the day passed in this way without any profitable result, and as night approached they grew weary and desponding. They had no money left to provide themselves with a home for the night, though they had provision enough for a meal or two remaining in their wallets- Bill had found it utterly impossible to make any impression upon any one he had met in the city, ex- cept so far as to be laughed at. He could get no one's ear to listen to his story, acci he could see no prospect of employment. Sally had several times suggested that this great road which they had been up and down so much, for they had been almost the whole length of Broadway two or three times, was not exactly the best road for them to go ; and she didn't think but what they might be likely to do better to go into one of the smaller roads, where the folks didn't look so grand. And though Bill had been of a different opinion through the day, he now began to think that Sally might be right. Looking down one of the cross-streets that seemed to descend into a sort of valley, quite *different country appeared to open to them. They could see old decayed- looking houses, with broken windows and dirty side-walks ; they could see half- -naked children, running about and playing in the street; they could see bare- leaded women and ragged men lounging about the doors, and numerous swine rooting in the gutters. The prospect was too inviting to be resisted : they felt at once that there they should find sympathy, and hastened down the street."

A CELLAR IN NEW YORK.

Patrick O'Flannagan, who lived in the basement of the old house on whose steps they were seated, at once invited them to partake of the hospitalities of his mansion ; saying be had but nine in his family, and his room was large, and they should he welcome to occupy a corner of it till they could find a better home. Of course, the invitation was accepted, and the group followed Patrick down the steep dirty steps that led to his damp apartment. The tops of the low windows were about upon a level with the side-walk, bringing almost the entire apartment below the surface of the ground. The dim light, that-. gled down through the little boxed-up dusty windows, showed a straw be in two several corners of the room, three or four rickety chairs, a rough bench, small table, tea-kettle, frying-pan, and several other minor articles of house. hold comforts.

Mutat° nomine, this training of' the hero might be English—.

" The limits of this history will not allow space to follow the fortunes of Bill through three or four of tbe first years of his city life. It must be gut& cient to state generally, that though he found kindness and sympathy in big new associates, he found little else that was beneficial. The atmosphere around him was not favourable to industry, and his habits in that respect never im- proved, but rather grew worse. His neighbours did not work, and why should he? His neighbours were fond of listening to his songs, and why should be not sing to them? His neighbours drank beer, and porter, and sling, and gin toddy ; and Bill needed hut little coaxing to drink with them. And he did drink with them, moderately at first, but deeper and oftener from month to month, and in three years time he became a perfect sot. " The schooling that little Billy received during these three years was emi- nently calculated to fit him for his future profession. He had slept on the floor, lying down late and rising up early, till his frame was as hardy and elastic as that ot a young panther. He had been flogged so much by a drunken father, and had his ears boxed so often by a fretted and desponding mother, that he had lost all fear of their blows, and even felt a sort of uneasiness, as though matters were not all right, if by any chance the day passed by without his receiving them. He had lived on such poor diet, and so little of it, that potato-skins had a fine relish, and a crust of bread was a luxury. He had battled with boys in the streets till he had become such an adept at fisticuffs that boys of nearly twice his size stood in fear of him. And he had so often been harshly driven from the doors of the wealthy, where he had been sent to beg for cold victuals, that he had come to regard mankind in general as a set of ferocious animals, against whose fangs it was necessary to be constantly on his guard. In short, Billy had been beaten about from post to pillar and pillar to post so much, and had rubbed his bead against so many sorts of people, that it had become pretty well filled with ideas of the hardest kind."

The prints of The Gift, both in design and execution, are very creditable to American art : the style of the artists resembles the

English, and has the good quality of being unaffected. The fronds-

piece, "Mercy's Dream,' by Mr. HUNTINGTON is graceful, but commonplace : we prefer the " Newsboy " of dr. INMAN because it has genuine character as well as striking effect. The female heads that form the subjects of the other plates are cold, and rather lumpish ; but the features are distinctly made out, and the expres. sion, if soulless, is at any rate ingenuous. From these specimens we are disposed to augur favourably of American limners., It may also be said. of The Gift, for those who regard such things, that its size is somewhat larger than The Book of Beauty;

the type, and the space it occupies on the page, smaller, with a con- sequent amplitude of margin, (unless ours is a large paper copy.) We cannot direct to the English publisher, if it has one: the book seems to have come to us direct from Philadelphia.

The novelty of MONTGOMERY'S Sacred GA we should say, is chiefly attributable to the publishers. Messrs. Franz& seem to

have conceived the idea of presenting a series of engravings from

Scriptural subjects, with illustrations in prose and verse,—an ad- mirable plan could it have been properly carried out, which it

scarcely is in the book before us. The engravings strike us as being plates pressed into the service from other publications,—a thing of no consequence if considered in the price, were the choice ite. dicious and the execution good. But we have Comm, whose Abraham looks a cunning Isaac, and Warr, whose prophet itt Nathan and David wears the air of an objurgator from Duke's

Place, whilst the monarch seems more downcast' at the lan- guage of Jehovah's representative than at his own sin • and the other foreign modern painters, although more learned is

their treatment, want the study and power of the great masterly. Nor, whether from the choice of the subjects or some deficiency in the engraving, do the specimens from the old artists strike

us as being very happy. The best are two plates from N.

Poussna and REMBRANDT'S parable of the Labourers in the Vine- yard. This last is a wonderful picture—life itself; though it be Dutch life, and a thorough study of the subject by an uneducated

but vigorous mind, bringing down Scripture and Palestine to its own experience, yet so doing it as to be preferable to a truer concep- tion unless embodied by the highest genius. The employer, the clerk, the expostulating labourer, and the dissatisfied group, form- ing the background of the picture, are each alike masterly, whether considered by themselves or as forming a whole. The plates, such as we have described them, and twenty in num- ber, are illustrated by the Reverend Mr. MONTGOMERY; and what- ever variety may be found in the pictures the illustrations are uni- form enough. " He brings to one dead level every theme." Whether he sings the Death of Abel, the Finding of' Moses, the

Judgment of Solomon, or the Raising of Lazarus, or, descending to prose, preaches on the Sacrifice of Isaac or the Expulsion of the Money-changers from the Temple—whatever be the theme, the treatment is one. The subject is lost sight of in a maze of words; which are eloquent and poetical, if eloquence and poetry are inde- pendent of aptness, closeness, propriety, matter, and spirit.

Of the remaining half-dozen in our list there is not much to say ; for they differ in brightness only as one star differs froth another. The Forget Me Not, the prototype of the British An- nuals, and the Friendship's Offering, are alike in size; but we think the Forget Me Not has the advantage in the neat richness of its external appearance, and the Friendship's Offering in its lite- rary contents. At the same time, it might be difficult to strike the balance—" the weight of a hair would turn the scale of their avoirdupois." There is in each the usual number of tales, varied by a quantum suff, of verses : but there is little doubt that the Forget Me Not has the best poetry, in " The Press" by JAMES MONTGOMERY; and Friendship's Offering the most vigorous protfe tale, in a sketch, not very probable as a whole, but very lifelike in parts, by the editor, Mr. LEITCH Rtrears—called " Memoires pour Servir."

The Keepsake and The Book of Beauty are as like as two peas ; for even two peas are not identical, and it-would not require a pea- sheller to discover the differences, as is said to be the case with .shepherds and the physiognomy of sheep. Both Annuals are edited by Lady IksssnvoTort ; both are constructed upon the same plan ; in both titled or amateur authors rather predominate ; the pictures in each look very much alike, the only difference being that in The Book of Beauty none but beauties are admitted, or rather portraits, (for the other article seems to be getting somewhat exhausted,) and the only difference in externals is that the covering of one is dark- blue and the other bright-scarlet. As regards literature, we rather think them the best of this kind of Annual ; at least they are not worse than they were, and perhaps the manner of the contributors may better float them over the shallows. Deciding between the contents, we should give the preference to The Keepsake, although The Book of Beauty has the preponderance of names—BULWER, MARRYAT, and BARRY CORNWALL, (for Mr. LANDOR and Mrs. HALL have contributed to both): but Sir EDWARD BULWER is not so happy as we have seen him in this lighter style of literature ; with MAR- RYAT'S " Gratitude " the" matter itself defeats the artist,"—a coarse ward-room, and absurd attempt to show the absence of gratitude in the world by an idle tale of a dog that bit him, a pony that threw him, a woman that jilted him, and a protégé assisting therein ; whilst BARRY CORNWALL'S prose apologue (he has a couple of stanzas in the other publication) has very little interest in the fable, and not much point in the "moral" at the end. The articles we like the best are Lord POWERSCOURT'S "Third Letter from the Earl of Chesterfield to his Daughter" in The Book of Beauty; and the "Last Notes of a Spanish Ramble," by Lord JOHN MANNERS, in The Keepsake. This partial account of a visit to Don CARLOS, prompted by the monarchy-mania of the scion of the house of Rutland, is indeed the most real thing in either of the publications ; and in one of its observations furnishes a curious pic- ture of agricultural advancement in Spain.— "We arrived at Arenas soon after the appointed hour ; but found our friends did not intend to start until after their midnight siesta, and that we were all to dine together at their host's, the chief proprietor in the place. In the mean time, we witnessed a very curious operation, viz. thrashing out the corn. A• large space is cleared and made ready by the road-side ; into this the sheaves are brought and spread out in circles; in the centre of each circle stands a woman, armed with a long goad or whip, by the constant application of which she keeps in full trot two or three ponies, harnessed to a couple of rough boards, that are studded underneath with pieces of sharp iron : the sheaves are dins in a short time reduced to powder; which is then raked up, and the wheat separated from the chaff by the very simple process of tossing them both in the air by a kind of trident : the chaff is, of course, whirled away, to a distance by the wind, and the wheat falls to the ground; this again is passed through a sieve, and the business is completed. The *raw, it is true, is pulverized almost into nothing ; but it is not altogether lost, for most of it is afterwards collected and given to the horses and mules, which are said to be very fond of it.'+ The plates of these two Annuals are the most pretending of the whole; but the names of the artists and of the ladies they have portrayed are -more attractive than the pictures themselves. CasLort and CArrsastoLE only repeat their mannerisms : these are imitated ty W. DRUMMOND—whose model seems to be the "Swiss Giantess " ; and we regret to add, by C. STONHOUSE also—whose portraits of Mrs. FAIRLIE and Miss BELLEW have so much of good art in them that it is a pity they should be made ludicrous by enlarged eyes and elongated noses. The two most genuine designs in point of character are REWEAVE'S "Waking Dream "—the milk-maid upsetting her basket of eggs, Which was exhibited at the Royal Academy, and is very finely engraved by CHARLES HEATH; and EDWIN LANDSEER'S portrait of Miss ELLEN POWER— though the lady's downcast eyes look very sleepy, and the plate is altogether of a drowsy cast.

The Drawingroont Scrap-Book has a new editor ; the office having devolved on Mrs. Emit:, authoress of "The Women of England," in consequence of MARY Ilowrres residence abroad. Besides a few brief biographical notices attached to some portraits of well- known characters, the volume consists of verses illustrative of the plates and so far differing from the generality of Annual poetry that ;hey really are illustrations : the picture not only furnishes the theme' but very often the images, and always suggests the sen- timents. Whether all the poems are by Mrs. atm does not appear, for the names of the contributors are not given. Judging from internal evidence, we should say they are by different hands ; for though their generic character is much the same,—smooth in versification, elegant in style, amiable in feeling, but not rising to high poetry,—yet they frequently differ somewhat, both in merit and individual character. The best are "Margaret Isabel," a pleasant little personal poem ; " The Dying Mother"; and "The Slave," illustrating the higher mental misery of slavery by a butterfly, a Sultan's daughter, and her attendant.

2'he Juvenile Scrap-Book, by the same editor, Mrs. Elias, is a collection of prose and verse, designed to exercise the intellect and impress moral truths upon the minds of the young. The best prose tale, because it is the most dramatic in its interest and the most varied in its character and conduct, is "The Brother and Sister," a story of the evil effects of intemperance and of the use of the pledge : the prettiest bit of poetry is "The Fair. Dance." The Juvenile Scrap-Book would be improved by more variety in its prose and more direct progress in its march. The framework of "True Greatness" is a cumbrous way of giving a sketch of Sir WALTER RALEIGH, especially as the chief end seems to be the impressing upon youth how dreary Sir WALTER'S captivity in • the Tower would have been had he not early cultivated his under- standing and always continued his mental application.

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