The waning gibbous moon, a pale and decrepit sovereign, casts its sickly radiance across a heaven of scattered stars, yet the sky is not wholly clear—thirty-seven parts in every hundred are given over…
The sun, a wan spectre behind stratocumulus veils, cast a sickly illumination upon the crags, its filtered rays lending the peaks a cadaverous pallor. At the fourth hour, the sky held a delicate balan…
The Torricellian column, that restless spirit of the air, has this morning subsided into a placid slumber at 29.86 inches, its mercurial pulse as steady as a monk's vigil. The brass-bound dial, with i…
Vienna, 1st September, 1841. The latest numbers of the Imperial Court and Danube Commercial Gazettes, received by the diligence of the morning, lay upon our desk, their pages redolent of the chancery'…
The waning gibbous, a silvered shard of celestial bone, hangs above the Carpathian teeth, its pale wash bleaching the stars to a faint, tremulous glimmer. At this fourth hour past midnight, the sky is…
From our Continental Correspondent, we receive intelligence most singular and heartening, concerning the establishment of a seminary of learning in the distant city of Buenos Ayres. It is a venture th…