The grandeur of these conceptions of the old poet, together with the

felicity of the wording which clothes them, and the sublimity of the

imagery whereby they are illustrated, have singled out that stanza,

and made it more celebrated than any that ever--

[

"Now, not a word out of you--not a single word. Just state your bill

and relapse into impenetrable silence for ever and ever on these

premises. Nine hundred, dollars? Is that all? This check for the

amount will be honored at any respectable bank in America. What is that

multitude of people gathered in the street for? How?--'looking at the

lightning-rods!' Bless my life, did they never see any lightning-rods

before? Never saw 'such a stack of them on one establishment,' did I

understand you to say? I will step down and critically observe this

popular ebullition of ignorance."]

THREE DAYS LATER.--We are all about worn out. For four-and-twenty hours

our bristling premises were the talk and wonder of the town. The

theaters languished, for their happiest scenic inventions were tame and

commonplace compared with my lightning-rods. Our street was blocked

night and day with spectators, and among them were many who came from

the country to see. It was a blessed relief on the second day when a

thunderstorm came up and the lightning began to "go for" my house, as the

historian Josephus quaintly phrases it. It cleared the galleries, so to

speak. In five minutes there was not a spectator within half a mile of

my place; but all the high houses about that distance away were full,

windows, roof, and all. And well they might be, for all the falling

Sketches New and Old