Sharpe, the proprietor, is a man of refined taste, his Editor and his
contributors are men of first-rate genius, the Painters and Engravers
are of the first rank, and the volume is printed at Mr. Whittingham's
Chiswick-press. Excellence must always be the result of such a
combination of talent, and so it proves in the _Anniversary_. As
might have been expected from the talent of its editor, the volume
is superior in its poetical attractions--both in number and quality.

By way of variety, we begin with the _poetry_. First is a stirring
little ballad, the Warrior, by the editor; then, a humorous epistle
from Robert Southey, Esq. to Allan Cunningham, in which the laureat
deals forth his ire on the "misresemblances and villanous visages"
which have been published as his portrait.[1] Next is a gem of
another water, Edderline's Dream, by Professor Wilson, the supposed
editor of "Blackwood's Magazine." This is throughout a very beautiful
composition, but we must content ourselves with the following
extract:--


EDDERLINE'S SLEEP.

Castle-Oban is lost in the darkness of night,
For the moon is swept from the starless heaven,
And the latest line of lowering light
That lingered on the stormy even,
A dim-seen line, half cloud, half wave,
Hath sunk into the weltering grave.
Castle-Oban is dark without and within,
And downwards to the fearful din,
Where Ocean with his thunder shocks