The last work in the list was thus noticed in the Athenæum, May 27, 1865.
"Mr. James Smith appears to be tired of waiting for his place in the Budget of Paradoxes, and accordingly publishes a long letter to Professor De Morgan, with various prefaces and postscripts. The letter opens by a hint that the Budget appears at very long intervals, and 'apparently without any sufficient reason for it.' As Mr. Smith hints that he should like to see Mr. De Morgan, whom he calls an 'elephant of mathematics,' 'pumping his brains' 'behind the scenes'—an odd thing for an elephant to do, and an odd place to do it in—to get an answer, we think he may mean to hint that the Budget is delayed until the pump has worked successfully. Mr. Smith is informed that we have had the whole manuscript of the Budget, excepting only a final summing-up, in our hands since October, 1863. [This does not refer to the Supplement.] There has been no delay: we knew from the beginning that a series of historical articles would be frequently interrupted by the things of the day. Mr. James Smith lets out that he has never been able to get a private line from Mr. De Morgan in answer to his communications: we should have guessed it. He says, 'The Professor is an old bird and not to be easily caught, and by no efforts of mine have I been able, up to the present moment, either to induce or twit him into a discussion....' Mr. Smith curtails the proverb: old birds are not to be caught with chaff, nor with twit, which seems to be Mr. Smith's word for his own chaff, and, so long as the first letter is sounded, a very proper word. Why does he not try a little grain of sense? Mr. Smith evidently
thinks that, in his character as an elephant, the Professor has not pumped up brain enough to furnish forth a bird. In serious earnest, Mr. Smith needs no answer. In one thing he excites our curiosity: what is meant by demonstrating 'geometrically and mathematically?'"
I now proceed to my original treatment of the case.
Mr. James Smith will, I have no doubt, be the most uneclipsed circle-squarer of our day. He will not owe this distinction to his being an influential and respected member of the commercial world of Liverpool, even though the power of publishing which his means give him should induce him to issue a whole library upon one paradox. Neither will he owe it to the pains taken with him by a mathematician who corresponded with him until the joint letters filled an octavo volume. Neither will he owe it to the notice taken of him by Sir William Hamilton, of Dublin, who refuted him in a manner intelligible to an ordinary student of Euclid, which refutation he calls a remarkable paradox easily explainable, but without explaining it. What he will owe it to I proceed to show.
Until the publication of the Nut to Crack Mr. James Smith stood among circle-squarers in general. I might have treated him with ridicule, as I have done others: and he says that he does not doubt he shall come in for his share at the tail end of my Budget. But I can make a better job of him than so, as Locke would have phrased it: he is such a very striking example of something I have said on the use of logic that I prefer to make an example of his writings. On one point indeed he well deserves the scutica,[[210]] if not the horribile flagellum.[[211]] He tells me that he will bring his solution to me in such a form as shall compel me to admit it as un fait accompli [une faute accomplie?][[212]]
or leave myself open to the humiliating charge of mathematical ignorance and folly. He has also honored me with some private letters. In the first of these he gives me a "piece of information," after which he cannot imagine that I, "as an honest mathematician," can possibly have the slightest hesitation in admitting his solution. There is a tolerable reservoir of modest assurance in a man who writes to a perfect stranger with what he takes for an argument, and gives an oblique threat of imputation of dishonesty in case the argument be not admitted without hesitation; not to speak of the minor charges of ignorance and folly. All this is blind self-confidence, without mixture of malicious meaning; and I rather like it: it makes me understand how Sam Johnson came to say of his old friend Mrs. Cobb,[[213]]—"I love Moll Cobb for her impudence." I have now done with my friend's suaviter in modo,[[214]] and proceed to his fortiter in re[[215]]: I shall show that he has convicted himself of ignorance and folly, with an honesty and candor worthy of a better value of π.
Mr. Smith's method of proving that every circle is 3⅛ diameters is to assume that it is so,—"if you dislike the term datum, then, by hypothesis, let 8 circumferences be exactly equal to 25 diameters,"—and then to show that every other supposition is thereby made absurd. The right to this assumption is enforced in the "Nut" by the following analogy:
"I think you (!) will not dare (!) to dispute my right to this hypothesis, when I can prove by means of it that every other value of π will lead to the grossest absurdities; unless indeed, you are prepared to dispute the right of Euclid to adopt a false line hypothetically for the purpose
of a 'reductio ad absurdum'[[216]] demonstration, in pure geometry."