And now for a last round of biter-bit with the Thor-hammerer, of whom, as in the other case, I shall take no
more notice until he can contrive to surpass himself, which I doubt his being able to do. He informs me that by changing A into
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in my name he can make a 666 of me; adding, "This is too hard for me, although not so for the Lord!" Sheer nonsense! He could just as easily have directed to "Prof. De Morg
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n" as have assigned me apartment 7A in University College. It would have been seen for whom it was intended: and if not, it would still have reached me, for my colleagues have for many a year handed all out-of-the-way things over to me. There is no 7A: but 7 is the Museum of Materia Medica. I took the only hint which the address gave: I inquired for hellebore, but they told me it was not now recognized, that the old notion of its value was quite obsolete, and that they had nothing which was considered a specific in senary or septenary cases. The great platitude is the reference of such a difficulty as writing
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for A to the Almighty! Not childish, but fatuous: real childishness is delightful. I knew an infant to whom, before he could speak plain, his parents had attempted to give notions of the Divine attributes: a wise plan, many think. His father had dandled him up-side-down, ending with, There now! Papa could not dance on his head! The mannikin made a solemn face, and said, But Dod tood! I think the Doctor has rather mistaken the way of becoming as a little child, intended in Matt. xviii. 3: let us hope the will may be taken for the deed.
Two poets have given images of transition from infancy to manhood: Dryden,—for the Hind is Dryden himself on all fours! and Wordsworth, in his own character of broad-nailed, featherless biped:
"The priest continues what the nurse began,