Complete Works of Lewis Carroll (239 page)

During this year he composed the words of a song, "Dreamland."
The air was
dreamed
by his friend, the late Rev.
C.
E.
Hutchinson, of Chichester.
The history of the dream is here given in the words of the dreamer:—

I found myself seated, with many others, in darkness, in a large amphitheatre.
Deep stillness prevailed.
A kind of hushed expectancy was upon us.
We sat awaiting I know not what.
Before us hung a vast and dark curtain, and between it and us was a kind of stage.
Suddenly an intense wish seized me to look upon the forms of some of the heroes of past days.
I cannot say whom in particular I longed to behold, but, even as I wished, a faint light flickered over the stage, and I was aware of a silent procession of figures moving from right to left across the platform in front of me.
As each figure approached the left-hand corner it turned and gazed at me, and I knew (by what means I cannot say) its name.
One only I recall—Saint George; the light shone with a peculiar blueish lustre on his shield and helmet as he turned and slowly faced me.
The figures were shadowy, and floated like mist before me; as each one disappeared an invisible choir behind the curtain sang the "Dream music."
I awoke with the melody ringing in my ears, and the words of the last line complete—"I see the shadows falling, and slowly pass away."
The rest I could not recall.

DREAMLAND
.

Words by LEWIS CARROLL.

Music by C.E.
HUTCHINSON.

When midnight mists are creeping

And all the land is sleeping

Around me tread the mighty dead,

And slowly pass away.

Lo, warriors, saints, and sages,

From out the vanished ages,

With solemn pace and reverend face

Appear and pass away.

The blaze of noonday splendour,

The twilight soft and tender,

May charm the eye: yet they shall die,

Shall die and pass away

But here, in Dreamland's centre,

No spoiler's hand may enter,

These visions fair, this radiance rare,

Shall never pass away

I see the shadows falling,

The forms of eld recalling;

Around me tread the mighty dead,

And slowly pass away

One of the best services to education which Mr.
Dodgson performed was his edition of "Euclid I.
and II.," which was published in 1882.
In writing "Euclid and His Modern Rivals," he had criticised somewhat severely the various substitutes proposed for Euclid, so far as they concerned beginners; but at the same time he had admitted that within prescribed limits Euclid's text is capable of amendment and improvement, and this is what he attempted to do in this book.
That he was fully justified is shown by the fact that during the years 1882—1889 the book ran through eight editions.
In the Introduction he enumerates, under the three headings of "Additions," "Omissions," and "Alterations," the chief points of difference between his own and the ordinary editions of Euclid, with his reasons for adopting them.
They are the outcome of long experience, and the most conservative of teachers would readily accept them.

The proof of I.
24, for example, is decidedly better and more satisfactory than the ordinary proof, and the introduction of the definition of "projection" certainly simplifies the cumbrous enunciations of II.
12 and 13.
Again, the alternative proof of II.
8, suggested in the Introduction, is valuable, and removes all excuse for omitting this proposition, as is commonly clone.

The figures used are from the blocks prepared for the late Mr.
Todhunter's well-known edition of Euclid, to which Mr.
Dodgson's manual forms an excellent stepping-stone.

At the beginning of 1883 he went up to town to see the collection of D.
G.
Rossetti's pictures in the Burlington Gallery.
He was especially struck with "Found," which he thus describes—

A picture of a man finding, in the streets of London, a girl he had loved years before in the days of her innocence.
She is huddled up against the wall, dressed in gaudy colours, and trying to turn away her agonised face, while he, holding her wrists, is looking down with an expression of pain and pity, condemnation and love, which is one of the most marvellous things I have ever seen done in painting.

Jan
.
27, 1883 [His birthday].—I cannot say I feel much older at 51 than at 21!
Had my first "tasting-luncheon"; it seemed to give great satisfaction.
[The object of the Curator's "tasting-luncheon" was, of course, to give members of Common Room an opportunity of deciding what wines should be bought.]

March
15
th.
—Went up to town to fulfil my promise to Lucy A.—: to take her for her
first
visit to the theatre.
We got to the Lyceum in good time, and the play was capitally acted.
I had hinted to Beatrice (Miss Ellen Terry) how much she could add to Lucy's pleasure by sending round a "carte" of herself; she sent a cabinet.
She is certainly an adept in giving gifts that gratify.

April
23
d
.—Tried another long walk—22 miles, to Besilsleigh, Fyfield, Kingston, Bagpuize, Frilford, Marcham, and Abingdon.
The last half of the way was in the face of wind, rain, snow, and hail.
Was too lame to go into Hall.

CHAPTER VI

(1883—1887)

"The Profits of Authorship"—"Rhyme?
and Reason?"—The Common Room Cat—Visit to Jersey—Purity of elections—Parliamentary Representation—Various literary projects—Letters to Miss E.
Rix—Being happy—"A Tangled Tale"—Religious arguments—The "Alice" Operetta—"Alice's Adventures Underground"—"The Game of Logic"—Mr.
Harry Furniss.

In 1883 Lewis Carroll was advised to make a stand against the heavy discount allowed by publishers to booksellers, and by booksellers to the public.
Accordingly the following notice began to appear in all his books: "In selling Mr.
Lewis Carroll's books to the Trade, Messrs.
Macmillan and Co.
will abate 2d.
in the shilling (no odd copies), and allow 5 per cent, discount within six months, and 10 per cent, for cash.
In selling them to the Public (for cash only) they will allow 10 per cent, discount."

It was a bold step to take, and elicited some loud expressions of disapproval.
"Rather than buy on the terms Mr.
Lewis Carroll offers," "A Firm of London Booksellers" wrote in
The Bookseller
of August 4th, "the trade will do well to refuse to take copies of his books, new or old, so long as he adheres to the terms he has just announced to the trade for their delectation and delight."
On the other hand, an editorial, which appeared in the same number of
The Bookseller,
expressed warm approval of the innovation.

To avoid all possible misconceptions, the author fully explained his views in a little pamphlet on "The Profits of Authorship."
He showed that the bookseller makes as much profit out of every volume he sells (assuming the buyer to pay the full published price, which he did in those days more readily than he does to-day) as author and publisher together, whereas his share in the work is very small.
He does not say much about the author's part in the work—that it is a very heavy one goes without saying—but in considering the publisher's share he says:—

The publisher contributes about as much as the bookseller in time and bodily labour, but in mental toil and trouble a great deal more.
I speak with some personal knowledge of the matter, having myself, for some twenty years, inflicted on that most patient and painstaking firm, Messrs.
Macmillan and Co., about as much wear and worry as ever publishers have lived through.
The day when they undertake a book for me is a
dies nefastus
for them.
From that day till the book is out—an interval of some two or three years on an average—there is no pause in "the pelting of the pitiless storm" of directions and questions on every conceivable detail.
To say that every question gets a courteous and thoughtful reply—that they are still outside a lunatic asylum—and that they still regard me with some degree of charity—is to speak volumes in praise of their good temper and of their health, bodily and mental.
I think the publisher's claim on the profits is on the whole stronger than the booksellers.

"Rhyme?
and Reason?"
appeared at Christmas; the dedicatory verses, inscribed "To a dear child: in memory of golden summer hours and whispers of a summer sea," were addressed to a little friend of the author's, Miss Gertrude Chataway.
One of the most popular poems in the book is "Hiawatha's Photographing," a delicious parody of Longfellow's "Hiawatha."
"In an age of imitation," says Lewis Carroll, in a note at the head, "I can claim no special merit for this slight attempt at doing what is known to be so easy."
It is not every one who has read this note who has observed that it is really in the same metre as the poem below it.

Another excellent parody, "Atalanta in Camden-Town," exactly hit off the style of that poet who stands alone and unapproached among the poets of the day, and whom Mr.
Dodgson used to call "the greatest living master of language."

"Fame's Penny Trumpet," affectionately dedicated to all "original researchers" who pant for "endowment," was an attack upon the Vivisectionists,

Who preach of Justice—plead with tears

That Love and Mercy should abound—

While marking with complacent ears

The moaning of some tortured hound.

Lewis Carroll thus addresses them:—

Fill all the air with hungry wails—

"Reward us, ere we think or write!

Without your gold mere knowledge fails

To sate the swinish appetite!"

And, where great Plato paced serene,

Or Newton paused with wistful eye,

Rush to the chase with hoofs unclean

And Babel-clamour of the stye!

Be yours the pay: be theirs the praise:

We will not rob them of their due,

Nor vex the ghosts of other days

By naming them along with you.

They sought and found undying fame:

They toiled not for reward nor thanks:

Their cheeks are hot with honest shame

For you, the modern mountebanks!

"For auld lang syne" the author sent a copy of his book to Mrs.
Hargreaves (Miss Alice Liddell), accompanied by a short note.

Christ Church,
December
21, 1883.

Dear Mrs.
Hargreaves,—Perhaps the shortest day in the year is not
quite
the most appropriate time for recalling the long dreamy summer afternoons of ancient times; but anyhow if this book gives you half as much pleasure to receive as it does me to send, it will be a success indeed.

Wishing you all happiness at this happy season, I am,

Sincerely yours,

C.
L.
Dodgson.

The beginning of 1884 was chiefly occupied in Common Room business.
The Curatorship seems to have been anything but a sinecure.
Besides weightier responsibilities, it involved the care of the Common Room Cat!
In this case the "care" ultimately killed the cat—but not until it had passed the span of life usually allotted to those animals, and beyond which their further existence is equally a nuisance to themselves and to every one else.
As to the best way of "terminating its sublunary existence," Mr.
Dodgson consulted two surgeons, one of whom was Sir James Paget.
I do not know what method was finally adopted, but I am sure it was one that gave no pain to pussy's nerves, and as little as possible to her feelings.

On March 11th there was a debate in Congregation on the proposed admission of women to some of the Honour Schools at Oxford.
This was one of the many subjects on which Mr.
Dodgson wrote a pamphlet.
During the debate he made one of his few speeches, and argued strongly against the proposal, on the score of the injury to health which it would inflict upon the girl-undergraduates.

Later in the month he and the Rev.
E.F.
Sampson, Tutor of Christ Church, paid a visit to Jersey, seeing various friends, notably the Rev.
F.H.
Atkinson, an old College friend of Mr.
Dodgson's, who had helped him when he was editor of
College Rhymes
.
I quote a few lines from a letter of his to Mr.
Atkinson, as showing his views on matrimony:—

So you have been for twelve years a married man, while I am still a lonely old bachelor!
And mean to keep so, for the matter of that.
College life is by no means unmixed misery, though married life has no doubt many charms to which I am a stranger.

A note in his Diary on May 5th shows one of the changes in his way of life which advancing years forced him to make:—

Wrote to—(who had invited me to dine) to beg off, on the ground that, in my old age, I find dinner parties more and more fatiguing.
This is quite a new departure.
I much grudge giving an evening (even if it were not tiring) to bandying small-talk with dull people.

The next extract I give does not look much like old age!

I called on Mrs.
M—.
She was out; and only one maid in, who, having come to the gate to answer the bell, found the door blown shut on her return.
The poor thing seemed really alarmed and distressed.
However, I got a man to come from a neighbouring yard with a ladder, and got in at the drawing-room window—a novel way of entering a friend's house!

Oddly enough, almost exactly the same thing happened to him in 1888: "The door blew shut, with the maid outside, and no one in the house.
I got the cook of the next house to let me go through their premises, and with the help of a pair of steps got over the wall between the two back-yards."

In July there appeared an article in the
St.
James's Gazette
on the subject of "Parliamentary Elections," written by Mr.
Dodgson.
It was a subject in which he was much interested, and a few years before he had contributed a long letter on the "Purity of Elections" to the same newspaper.
I wish I had space to give both in full; as things are, a summary and a few extracts are all I dare attempt.
The writer held that there are a great number of voters, and
pari passu
a great number of constituencies, that like to be on the winning side, and whose votes are chiefly influenced by that consideration.
The ballot-box has made it practically impossible for the individual voter to know which is going to be the winning side, but after the first few days of a general election, one side or the other has generally got a more or less decided advantage, and a weak-kneed constituency is sorely tempted to swell the tide of victory.

But this is not all.
The evil extends further than to the single constituency; nay, it extends further than to a single general election; it constitutes a feature in our national history; it is darkly ominous for the future of England.
So long as general elections are conducted as at present we shall be liable to oscillations of political power, like those of 1874 and 1880, but of ever-increasing violence—one Parliament wholly at the mercy of one political party, the next wholly at the mercy of the other—while the Government of the hour, joyfully hastening to undo all that its predecessors have done, will wield a majority so immense that the fate of every question will be foredoomed, and debate will be a farce; in one word, we shall be a nation living from hand to mouth, and with no settled principle—an army, whose only marching orders will be "Right about face!"

His remedy was that the result of each single election should be kept secret till the general election is over:—

It surely would involve no practical difficulty to provide that the boxes of voting papers should be sealed up by a Government official and placed in such custody as would make it impossible to tamper with them; and that when the last election had been held they should be opened, the votes counted, and the results announced.

The article on "Parliamentary Elections" proposed much more sweeping alterations.
The opening paragraph will show its general purport:—

The question, how to arrange our constituencies and conduct our Parliamentary elections so as to make the House of Commons, as far as possible, a true index of the state of opinion in the nation it professes to represent, is surely equal in importance to any that the present generation has had to settle.
And the leap in the dark, which we seem about to take in a sudden and vast extension of the franchise, would be robbed of half its terrors could we feel assured that each political party will be duly represented in the next Parliament, so that every side of a question will get a fair hearing.

The axioms on which his scheme was based were as follows:—

(1) That each Member of Parliament should represent approximately the same number of electors.

(2) That the minority of the two parties into which, broadly speaking, each district may be divided, should be adequately represented.

(3) That the waste of votes, caused by accidentally giving one candidate more than he needs and leaving another of the same party with less than he needs, should be, if possible, avoided.

(4) That the process of marking a ballot-paper should be reduced to the utmost possible simplicity, to meet the case of voters of the very narrowest mental calibre.

(5) That the process of counting votes should be as simple as possible.

Then came a precise proposal.
I do not pause to compare it in detail with the suggestions of Mr.
Hare, Mr.
Courtney, and others:—