The Life and Letters of Lewis Carroll Part 21

Your sincere friend,

Lewis Carroll."

Surely we can patiently swallow many Black Draughts, if we are to be rewarded with so sweet a Lump of Sugar!

The enclosed poem, which has since been republished in "Three Sunsets," runs as follows:

A LESSON IN LATIN.

Our Latin books, in motley row, Invite us to the task-- Gay Horace, stately Cicero; Yet there's one verb, when once we know, No higher skill we ask: This ranks all other lore above-- We've learned "amare" means "to love"!

So hour by hour, from flower to flower, We sip the sweets of life: Till ah! too soon the clouds arise, And knitted brows and angry eyes Proclaim the dawn of strife.

With half a smile and half a sigh, "Amare! Bitter One!" we cry.

Last night we owned, with looks forlorn, "Too well the scholar knows There is no rose without a thorn "-- But peace is made! we sing, this morn, "No thorn without a rose!"

Our Latin lesson is complete: We've learned that Love is "Bitter-sweet"

Lewis Carroll.

In October Mr. Dodgson invented a very ingenious little stamp-case, decorated with two "Pictorial Surprises," representing the "Cheshire Cat" vanishing till nothing but the grin was left, and the baby turning into a pig in "Alice's" arms. The invention was entered at Stationers' Hall, and published by Messrs. Emberlin and Son, of Oxford. As an appropriate accompaniment, he wrote "Eight or Nine Wise Words on Letter-Writing," a little booklet which is still sold along with the case. The "Wise Words," as the following extracts show, have the true "Carrollian" ring about them:--

Some American writer has said "the snakes in this district may be divided into one species--the venomous." The same principle applies here. Postage-stamp-cases may be divided into one species--the "Wonderland."

Since I have possessed a "Wonderland-Stamp-Case," Life has been bright and peaceful, and I have used no other. I believe the Queen's Laundress uses no other.

My fifth Rule is, if your friend makes a severe remark, either leave it unnoticed or make your reply distinctly less severe: and, if he makes a friendly remark, tending towards "making up" the little difference that has arisen between you, let your reply be distinctly _more_ friendly. If, in picking a quarrel, each party declined to go more than _three-eighths_ of the way, and if, in making friends, each was ready to go _five-eighths_ of the way--why, there would be more reconciliations than quarrels! Which is like the Irishman's remonstrance to his gad-about daughter: "Shure, you're _always_ goin' out! You go out _three_ times for wanst that you come in!"

My sixth Rule is, _don't try to have the last word!_ How many a controversy would be nipped in the bud, if each was anxious to let the _other_ have the last word!

Never mind how telling a rejoinder you leave unuttered: never mind your friend's supposing that you are silent from lack of anything to say: let the thing drop, as soon as it is possible without discourtesy: remember "Speech is silvern, but silence is golden"! (N.B. If you are a gentleman, and your friend a lady, this Rule is superfluous: _you won't get the last word!_)

Remember the old proverb, "Cross-writing makes cross-reading." "The _old_ proverb?" you say inquiringly. "_How_ old?" Well, not so _very_ ancient, I must confess. In fact, I invented it while writing this paragraph. Still, you know, "old" is a _comparative_ term. I think you would be _quite_ justified in addressing a chicken, just out of the sh.e.l.l, as "old boy!" _when compared_ with another chicken that was only half-out!

The pamphlet ends with an explanation of Lewis Carroll's method of using a correspondence-book, ill.u.s.trated by a few imaginary pages from such a compilation, which are very humorous.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Facsimile of programme of "Alice in Wonderland_."]

At the end of the year the "Alice" operetta was again produced at the Globe Theatre, with Miss Isa Bowman as the heroine. "Isa makes a delightful Alice," Mr. Dodgson writes, "and Emsie [a younger sister]

is wonderfully good as Dormouse and as Second Ghost [of an oyster!], when she sings a verse, and dances the Sailor's Hornpipe."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The Mad Tea-Party." _From a photograph by Elliott & Fry_.]

The first of an incomplete series, "Curiosa Mathematica," was published for Mr. Dodgson by Messrs. Macmillan during the year. It was ent.i.tled "A New Theory of Parallels," and any one taking it up for the first time might be tempted to ask, Is the author serious, or is he simply giving us some _jeu d'esprit?_ A closer inspection, however, soon settles the question, and the reader, if mathematics be his hobby, is carried irresistibly along till he reaches the last page.

The object which Mr. Dodgson set himself to accomplish was to prove Euclid I. 32 without a.s.suming the celebrated 12th Axiom, a feat which calls up visions of the "Circle-Squarers."

The work is divided into two parts: Book I. contains certain Propositions which require no disputable Axiom for their proof, and when once the few Definitions of "amount," &c., have become familiar it is easy reading. In Book II. the author introduces a new Axiom, or rather "Quasi-Axiom"--for it's _self-evident_ character is open to dispute. This Axiom is as follows:--

In any Circle the inscribed equilateral Tetragon (Hexagon in editions 1st and 2nd) is greater than any one of the Segments which lie outside it.

a.s.suming the truth of this Axiom, Mr. Dodgson proves a series of Propositions, which lead up to and enable him to accomplish the feat referred to above.

At the end of Book II. he places a proof (so far as finite magnitudes are concerned) of Euclid's Axiom, preceded by and dependent on the Axiom that "If two h.o.m.ogeneous magnitudes be both of them finite, the lesser may be so multiplied by a finite number as to exceed the greater." This Axiom, he says, he believes to be a.s.sumed by every writer who has attempted to prove Euclid's 12th Axiom. The proof itself is borrowed, with slight alterations, from Cuthbertson's "Euclidean Geometry."

In Appendix I. there is an alternative Axiom which may be subst.i.tuted for that which introduces Book II., and which will probably commend itself to many minds as being more truly axiomatic. To subst.i.tute this, however, involves some additions and alterations, which the author appends.

Appendix II. is headed by the somewhat startling question, "Is Euclid's Axiom true?" and though true for finite magnitudes--the sense in which, no doubt, Euclid meant it to be taken--it is shown to be not universally true. In Appendix III. he propounds the question, "How should Parallels be defined?"

Appendix IV., which deals with the theory of Parallels as it stands to-day, concludes with the following words:--

I am inclined to believe that if ever Euclid I. 32 is proved without a new Axiom, it will be by some new and ampler definition of the _Right Line_--some definition which shall connote that mysterious property, which it must somehow possess, which causes Euclid I. 32 to be true. Try _that_ track, my gentle reader! It is not much trodden as yet. And may success attend your search!

In the Introduction, which, as is frequently the case, ought to be read _last_ in order to be appreciated properly, he relates his experiences with two of those "misguided visionaries," the circle-squarers. One of them had selected 3.2 as the value for "_pi_," and the other proved, to his own satisfaction at least, that it is correctly represented by 3! The Rev. Watson Hagger, to whose kindness, as I have already stated in my Preface, my readers are indebted for the several accounts of Mr. Dodgson's books on mathematics which appear in this Memoir, had a similar experience with one of these "cranks." This circle-squarer selected 3.125 as the value for "_pi_," and Mr. Hagger, who was fired with Mr. Dodgson's ambition to convince his correspondent of his error, failed as signally as Mr. Dodgson did.

The following letter is interesting as showing that, strict Conservative though he was, he was not in religious matters narrow-minded; he held his own opinions strongly, but he would never condemn those of other people. He saw "good in everything," and there was but little exaggeration, be it said in all reverence, in the phrase which an old friend of his used in speaking of him to me: "Mr.

Dodgson was as broad--as broad as _Christ_."

Christ Church, Oxford, _May_ 4, 1889.

Dear Miss Manners,--I hope to have a new book out very soon, and had entered your name on the list of friends to whom copies are to go; but, on second thoughts, perhaps you might prefer that I should send it to your little sister (?) (niece) Rachel, whom you mentioned in one of your letters.

It is to be called "The Nursery Alice," and is meant for very young children, consisting of coloured enlargements of twenty of the pictures in "Alice," with explanations such as one would give in showing them to a little child.

I was much interested by your letter, telling me you belong to the Society of Friends. Please do not think of _me_ as one to whom a "difference of creed" is a bar to friendship. My sense of brother- and sisterhood is at least broad enough to include _Christians_ of all denominations; in fact, I have one valued friend (a lady who seems to live to do good kind things) who is a Unitarian.

Shall I put "Rachel Manners" in the book?

Believe me, very sincerely yours,

C. L. Dodgson.

From June 7th to June 10th he stayed at Hatfield.

Once at luncheon [he writes] I had the d.u.c.h.ess (of Albany) as neighbour and once at breakfast, and had several other chats with her, and found her very pleasant indeed. Princess Alice is a sweet little girl. Her little brother (the Duke of Albany) was entirely fascinating, a perfect little prince, and the picture of good-humour. On Sunday afternoon I had a pleasant half-hour with the children [Princess Alice, the Duke of Albany, Honorable Mabel Palmer, Lady Victoria Manners, and Lord Haddon], telling them "Bruno's Picnic" and folding a fishing-boat for them. I got the d.u.c.h.ess's leave to send the little Alice a copy of the "Nursery Alice," and mean to send it with "Alice Underground" for herself.

Towards the end of the year Lewis Carroll had tremendously hard work, completing "Sylvie and Bruno." For several days on end he worked from breakfast until nearly ten in the evening without a rest. At last it was off his hands, and for a month or so he was (comparatively) an idle man. Some notes from his Diary, written during this period, follow:--

_Nov. 17th._--Met, for first time, an actual believer in the "craze" that buying and selling are wrong (!) (he is rather 'out of his mind'). The most curious thing was his declaration that he himself _lives_ on that theory, and never buys anything, and has no money! I thought of railway travelling, and ventured to ask how he got from London to Oxford? "On a bicycle!" And how he got the bicycle? "It was given him!" So I was floored, and there was no time to think of any other instances. The whole thing was so new to me that, when he declared it to be _un-Christian_, I quite forgot the text, "He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one."

_Dec. 19th._--Went over to Birmingham to see a performance of "Alice" (Mrs. Freiligrath Kroeker's version) at the High School. I rashly offered to tell "Bruno's Picnic" afterwards to the little children, thinking I should have an audience of 40 or 50, mostly children, instead of which I had to tell it from the stage to an audience of about 280, mostly older girls and grown-up people! However, I got some of the children to come on the stage with me, and the little Alice (Muriel Howard-Smith, aet. 11) stood by me, which made it less awful. The evening began with some of "Julius Caesar" in German. This and "Alice" were really capitally acted, the White Queen being quite the best I have seen (Miss B. Lloyd Owen). I was introduced to Alice and a few more, and was quite sorry to hear afterwards that the other performers wanted to shake hands.

The publication of "Sylvie and Bruno" marks an epoch in its author's life, for it was the publication of all the ideals and sentiments which he held most dear. It was a book with a definite purpose; it would be more true to say with several definite purposes. For this very reason it is not an artistic triumph as the two "Alice" books undoubtedly are; it is on a lower literary level, there is no unity in the story. But from a higher standpoint, that of the Christian and the philanthropist, the book is the best thing he ever wrote. It is a n.o.ble effort to uphold the right, or what he thought to be the right, without fear of contempt or unpopularity. The influence which his earlier books had given him he was determined to use in a.s.serting neglected truths.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Late Duke of Albany. _From a photograph by Lewis Carroll._]

Of course the story has other features, delightful nonsense not surpa.s.sed by anything in "Wonderland," childish prattle with all the charm of reality about it, and pictures which may fairly be said to rival those of Sir John Tenniel. Had these been all, the book would have been a great success. As things are, there are probably hundreds of readers who have been scared by the religious arguments and political discussions which make up a large part of it, and who have never discovered that Sylvie is just as entrancing a personage as Alice when you get to know her.

Perhaps the sentiment of the following poem, sent to Lewis Carroll by an anonymous correspondent, may also explain why some of "Alice's"

lovers have given "Sylvie" a less warm welcome:--