Therefore, he had completely proved his case.

Therefore, the great majority of the ladies and gentlemen that regularly attend the scientific lectures of the Peabody Institute, pronounced Barbican's fate and that of his companions to be sealed.

Next morning's newspapers contained lengthy obituary notices of the Great Balloon-attics as the witty man of the _New York Herald_ phrased it, some of which might be considered quite complimentary.

These, all industriously copied into the evening papers, the people were carefully reading over again, some with honest regret, some deriving a great moral lesson from an attempt exceedingly reprehensible in every point of view, but most, we are sorry to acknowledge, with a feeling of ill concealed pleasure.

Had not they always said how it was to end?
Was there anything more absurd ever conceived?
Scientific men too! Hang such science! If you want a real scientific man, no wind bag, no sham, take Belfast! _He_ knows what he's talking about! No taking _him_ in! Didn't he by means of the Monster Telescope, see the Projectile, as large as life, whirling round and round the Moon?
Anyway, what else could have happened?
Wasn't it what anybody's common sense expected?
Don't you remember a conversation we had with you one day?
etc., etc.
The _Barbicanites_ were very doleful, but they never though of giving in.