The Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll Part 18

Owing, probably, to the strain of incessant work, Mr. Dodgson about this period began to be subject to a very peculiar, yet not very uncommon, optical delusion, which takes the form of seeing moving fortifications. Considering the fact that he spent a good twelve hours out of every twenty-four in reading and writing, and that he was now well over fifty years old, it was not surprising that nature should begin to rebel at last, and warn him of the necessity of occasional rest.

Some verses on "Wonderland" by "One who loves Alice," appeared in the Christmas number of _Sylvia's Home Journal_, 1885. They were written by Miss M.E. Manners, and, as Lewis Carroll himself admired them, they will, I think, be read with interest:--

WONDERLAND.

How sweet those happy days gone by, Those days of sunny weather, When Alice fair, with golden hair, And we--were young together;-- When first with eager gaze we scann'd The page which told of Wonderland.

On hearthrug in the winter-time We lay and read it over; We read it in the summer's prime, Amidst the hay and clover.

The trees, by evening breezes fann'd, Murmured sweet tales of Wonderland.

We climbed the mantelpiece, and broke The jars of Dresden china; In Jabberwocky tongue we spoke, We called the kitten "Dinah!"

And, oh! how earnestly we planned To go ourselves to Wonderland.

The path was fringed with flowers rare, With rainbow colours tinted; The way was "up a winding stair,"

Our elders wisely hinted.

We did not wish to understand _Bed_ was the road to Wonderland.

We thought we'd wait till we should grow Stronger as well as bolder, But now, alas! full well we know We're only growing older.

The key held by a childish hand, Fits best the door of Wonderland.

Yet still the Hatter drinks his tea, The d.u.c.h.ess finds a moral, And Tweedledum and Tweedledee Forget in fright their quarrel.

The Walrus still weeps on the sand, That strews the sh.o.r.es of Wonderland.

And other children feel the spell Which once we felt before them, And while the well-known tale we tell, We watch it stealing o'er them: Before their dazzled eyes expand The glorious realms of Wonderland.

Yes, "time is fleet," and we have gained Years more than twice eleven; Alice, dear child, hast thou remained "Exactually" seven?

With "proper aid," "two" could command Time to go back in Wonderland.

Or have the years (untouched by charms), With joy and sorrow laden, Rolled by, and brought unto thy arms A dainty little maiden?

Another Alice, who shall stand By thee to hear of Wonderland.

Carroll! accept the heartfelt thanks Of children of all ages, Of those who long have left their ranks, Yet still must love the pages Written by him whose magic wand Called up the scenes of Wonderland.

Long mayst thou live, the sound to hear Which most thy heart rejoices, Of children's laughter ringing clear, And children's merry voices, Until for thee an angel-hand Draws back the veil of Wonderland.

One Who Loves "Alice."

Three letters, written at the beginning of 1886 to Miss Edith Rix, to whom he had dedicated "A Tangled Tale," are interesting as showing the deeper side of his character:--

Guildford, _Jan_. 15, 1886.

My dear Edith,--I have been meaning for some time to write to you about agnosticism, and other matters in your letter which I have left unnoticed. And yet I do not know, much as what you say interests me, and much as I should like to be of use to any wandering seeker after truth, that I am at all likely to say anything that will be new to you and of any practical use.

The Moral Science student you describe must be a beautiful character, and if, as you say, she lives a n.o.ble life, then, even though she does not, as yet, see any G.o.d, for whose sake she can do things, I don't think you need be unhappy about her. "When thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee,"

is often supposed to mean that Nathanael had been _praying_, praying no doubt ignorantly and imperfectly, but yet using the light he had: and it seems to have been accepted as faith in the Messiah. More and more it seems to me (I hope you won't be _very_ much shocked at me as an ultra "Broad" Churchman) that what a person _is_ is of more importance in G.o.d's sight than merely what propositions he affirms or denies. _You_, at any rate, can do more good among those new friends of yours by showing them what a Christian _is_, than by telling them what a Christian _believes_....

I have a deep dread of argument on religious topics: it has many risks, and little chance of doing good. You and I will never _argue_, I hope, on any controverted religious question: though I do hope we may see the day when we may freely _speak_ of such things, even where we happen to hold different views. But even then I should have no inclination, if we did differ, to conclude that my view was the right one, and to try to convert you to it....

Now I come to your letter dated Dec. 22nd, and must scold you for saying that my solution of the problem was "quite different _to_ all common ways of doing it": if _you_ think that's good English, well and good; but _I_ must beg to differ to you, and to hope you will _never_ write me a sentence similar from this again.

However, "worse remains behind"; and if you deliberately intend in future, when writing to me about one of England's greatest poets, to call him "Sh.e.l.ly," then all I can say is, that you and I will have to quarrel! Be warned in time.

C. L. Dodgson.

CH. Ch., _Jan_. 26, 1886.

My Dear Edith,--I am interested by what you say of Miss--.

You will know, without my saying it, that if she, or any other friend of yours with any troubles, were to like to write to me, I would _very_ gladly try to help: with all my ignorance and weakness, G.o.d has, I think, blessed my efforts in that way: but then His strength is made perfect in weakness....

Ch. Ch., _Feb_. 14, 1886.

My Dear Edith,... I think I've already noticed, in a way, most of the rest of that letter--except what you say about learning more things "after we are dead." _I_ certainly like to think that may be so. But I have heard the other view strongly urged, a good deal based on "then shall we know even as we are known." But I can't believe that that means we shall have _all_ knowledge given us in a moment--nor can I fancy it would make me any happier: it is the _learning_ that is the chief joy, here, at any rate....

I find another remark anent "pupils"--a bold speculation that my 1,000 pupils may really "go on" in the future life, till they _have_ really outstripped Euclid. And, please, what is _Euclid_ to be doing all that time? ...

One of the most dreadful things you have ever told me is your students' theory of going and speaking to any one they are interested in, without any introductions. This, joined with what you say of some of them being interested in "Alice," suggests the horrid idea of their some day walking into this room and beginning a conversation. It is enough to make one shiver, even to think of it!

Never mind if people do say "Good gracious!" when you help old women: it _is_ being, in some degree, both "good"

_and_ "gracious," one may hope. So the remark wasn't so inappropriate.

I fear I agree with your friend in not liking all sermons.

Some of them, one has to confess, are rubbish: but then I release my attention from the preacher, and go ahead in any line of thought he may have started: and his after-eloquence acts as a kind of accompaniment--like music while one is reading poetry, which often, to me, adds to the effect.

C. L. Dodgson.

The "Alice" operetta, which Mr. Dodgson had despaired of, was at last to become a reality. Mr. Savile Clarke wrote on August 28th to ask his leave to dramatise the two books, and he gladly a.s.sented. He only made one condition, which was very characteristic of him, that there should be "no _suggestion_ even of coa.r.s.eness in libretto or in stage business." The hint was hardly necessary, for Mr. Savile Clarke was not the sort of man to spoil his work, or to allow others to spoil it, by vulgarity. Several alterations were made in the books before they were suitable for a dramatic performance; Mr. Dodgson had to write a song for the ghosts of the oysters, which the Walrus and the Carpenter had devoured. He also completed "Tis the voice of the lobster," so as to make it into a song. It ran as follows:--

Tis the voice of the lobster; I heard him declare "You have baked me too brown: I must sugar my hair."

As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose Trims his belt and his b.u.t.tons, and turns out his toes.

When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, And talks with the utmost contempt of the shark; But when the tide rises, and sharks are around, His words have a timid and tremulous sound.

I pa.s.sed by his garden, and marked, with one eye, How the owl and the panther were sharing a pie: The panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat, And the owl had the dish for his share of the treat.

When the plate was divided, the owl, as a boon, Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon: But the panther obtained both the fork and the knife, So, when _he_ lost his temper, the owl lost its life.

The play, for the first few weeks at least, was a great success. Some notes in Mr. Dodgson's Diary which relate to it, show how he appreciated Mr. Savile Clarke's venture:--

_Dec. 30th._--To London with M--, and took her to "Alice in Wonderland," Mr. Savile Clarke's play at the Prince of Wales's Theatre. The first act (Wonderland) goes well, specially the Mad Tea Party. Mr. Sydney Harcourt is a capital Hatter, and little Dorothy d'Alcourt (aet. 61/2) a delicious Dormouse. Phoebe Carlo is a splendid Alice. Her song and dance with the Cheshire Cat (Master C. Adeson, who played the Pirate King in "Pirates of Penzance") was a gem.

As a whole the play seems a success.

_Feb_. 11, 1887.--Went to the "Alice" play, where we sat next a chatty old gentleman, who told me that the author of "Alice" had sent Phoebe Carlo a book, and that she had written to him to say that she would do her very best, and further, that he is "an Oxford man"--all which I hope I received with a sufficient expression of pleased interest.

Shortly before the production of the play, a Miss Whitehead had drawn a very clever medley-picture, in which nearly all Tenniel's wonderful creations--the Dormouse, the White Knight, the Mad Hatter, &c.--appeared. This design was most useful as a "poster" to advertise the play. After the London run was over, the company made a tour of the provinces, where it met with a fair amount of success.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Medley of Tenniel's Ill.u.s.trations in "Alice."

_From an etching by Miss Whitehead; used as a theatrical advertis.e.m.e.nt_.]

At the end of 1886, "Alice's Adventures Underground," a facsimile of the original MS. book, afterwards developed into "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," with thirty-seven ill.u.s.trations by the author, was published by Macmillan & Co. A postscript to the Preface stated that any profits that might arise from the book would be given to Children's Hospitals and Convalescent Homes for Sick Children. Shortly before the book came out, Lewis Carroll wrote to Mrs. Hargreaves, giving a description of the difficulties that he had encountered in producing it:--

Christ Church, Oxford,