Complete Works of Lewis Carroll (242 page)

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 Duchess finds a moral,

And Tweedledum and Tweedledee

Forget in fright their quarrel.

The Walrus still weeps on the sand,

That strews the shores 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 noble life, then, even though she does not, as yet, see any God, 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 God'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 "Shelly," 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, God 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 assented.
He only made one condition, which was very characteristic of him, that there should be "no
suggestion
even of coarseness 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 buttons, 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 passed 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 (æt.
6 1/2) 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.