There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.

I fell in love with melancholy

Children are never too tender to be whipped. Like tough beefsteaks, the more you beat them, the more tender they become.

It is the nature of truth in general, as of some ores in particular, to be richest when most superficial.

We allude to the short prose narrative, requiring from a half hour to one or two hours in its perusal

Not hear it? --yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long --long --long --many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it --yet I dared not --oh, pity me, miserable wretch that I am! --I dared not --I dared not speak! We have put her living in the tomb!

I might refer at once, if necessary, to a hundred well authenticated instances. One of very remarkable character, and of which the circumstances may be fresh in the memory of some of my readers, occurred, not very long ago, in the neighboring city of Baltimore, where it occasioned a painful, intense, and widely extended excitement.