RHADAMANTHUS is so old by this time, and so hardened into his own way of thinking, that I suppose it is useless to wish he were of my mind. What I look upon as justice, he may, moreover, call spitefulness, or worse. But I dearly desire to sit enthroned by Styx in his stead, that I might adjudge reparative to old Euclid and to Eaton, that modern figurative fiend, and to the entire tribe of evil-inventing Arabs. What hope is there in this world for ? Such creatures have been as friends of civilization and of human progress. Tens of thousands, mostly helpless , and stray rebels of all ages, among whom I am but a atom, make protest. We go about, with an ancient school-rhyme for our Marseillaise:—  
 
"Multiplication's a vexation,
Subtraction's just as bad;
The Rule of Three, it puzzles me,
And Fractions drive me mad."
 
We to be moderate. We handle a and pencil forgivingly. We consider that history is somewhat against us; for Cæsar believed in addition; and the generals of the great Alexander were fond of division all their days. We try to get over our distrust of the Book of Numbers, and to think it quite ; vainly, vainly. We are still the army of the ; and your numeric blood, which was into us by main force, and in our unproselytized .
 
Mine to a unit, like an ancestral prejudice, developed in . I cannot reconcile myself to that of my capabilities—and nothing shall persuade me that they were not fine, primarily—on insufferable of twice two, and thirteen times twenty-seven; on angles, polygons, hypothenuses, and roots of diabolic cubes; on and cancelling everything Solomon in his wisdom had never heard of, save the growing, intact, substantial aversion all else. What glo............