This has always been with us a favourite work, and we rejoice to say that the present is equal to any of its predecessors. It is more sprightly than its title implies, and even less sombre than the _Friendship's Offering_; and the interest of most of the prose articles is far from perishable. Two of them by Dr. Walsh--Are there more worlds inhabited than our globe?--and the First Invasion of Ireland,--are excellent papers, though too _azure_ for some who have not the philosophical mind of Lady Mary S----d. Among the Tales, the Two Delhis; Annie Leslie, by Mrs. S.C. Hall; the Glen of St. Kylas, by Mr. Carne; the Anxious Wife, by the Editor; a Tale of Pentland, by the Ettrick Shepherd; and the Austral Chief, by the Rev. Mr. Ellis,--may be read and re-read with increasing interest, which is not a general characteristic of "Annual" sketches. Our extract is one of the most buoyant pieces in the volume-- A CASTLE IN THE AIR. _By Miss Mitford_.[5] [5] This ingenious lady is the most indefatigable of all lady-writers of the present day. Her "Sketches" will soon reach the famed "One Thousand and One." At this moment too, our favourite authoress is engaged on two tragedies for the patent theatres--one _Inez de Castro_, which has been poetized in half-a-dozen forms of late, and is even in the _Amulet_ before us: the subject and title of the second tragedy is _Otho_: both will probably be of a melo-dramatic cast, which founded the success of _Rienzi_. If it should be so, the fault will not rest with the fair authoress, the managers, or admirers of the pure drama; we need not add where the blame lies. "Can any one tell me of a house to be let hereabouts?" asked I, this afternoon, coming into the room, with an open letter in my hand, and an unusual animation of feeling and of manner. "Our friends, the Camdens, want to live amongst us again, and have commissioned me to make inquiries for a residence." This announcement, as I expected, gave general delight; for Mr. Camden is the most excellent and most agreeable person under the sun, except his wife, who is even more amiable than her amiable husband: to regain such neighbours was felt to be an universal benefit, more especially to us who were so happy as to call them friends. My own interest in the house question was participated by all around me, and the usual enumeration of vacant mansions, and the several objections to each (for where ever was a vacant mansion without its objection?) began with zeal and rapidity. "Cranley Hall," said one. "Too large!" "Hinton Park?" "Too much land." "The White House at Hannonby--the Belvidere, as the late people called it?" "What! is that flourishing establishment done up? But Hannonby is too far off--ten miles at least." "Queen's Bridge Cottage?" "Ay, that sweet place would have suited exactly, but it's let. The Browns took it only yesterday." "Sydenham Court?"