Part 27 (1/2)
Thur's not a lane vur moiles around But ha.s.sen heerd ma kisses zound, Nor dru t' parish will 'ee vind A door Oi hanna kissed behind; An' now, wid crutch, an' back bent double, T' rheumatiz doan't gie naw trouble, Vor all t' ould grannies handy-boi Iz mazed, vair mazed, on cuddlin' Oi!
Pore-house Potter, toothless Trotter, gouty Gillard, splea-foot Zlee, Zilly Zettle, c.o.c.k-eyed Kettle, deaf ould Doble, limpin' Lee, Husky Holley, jaundy Jolly, Nanny Northam, vractious Vall, All t' ould gals in Coompton Regis, bless their hearts, Oi love 'em all!
MR. BROOKFIELD IN HIS YOUTH [Sidenote: _W.H. Brookfield_]
My Dear Venables,
Notwithstanding the proverbial irregularity of the English mails and the infamous practice of Government in embezzling all private letters for the King's private reading, yours of the 17th eluded observation at the post office so as to reach me; and was as acceptable as, considering the wearisome frequency of your communications lately, could possibly be expected.
My last was a scrawl from Althorp--where we spent six weeks. That there are 60,000 volumes you know. I read them all, excepting a pamphlet in a _patois_ of the Sanscrit, written by a learned, but, I regret to add, profane Hindoo Sectarian, the blasphemous drift of which was to prove that Bramah's locks were not all patent.
We went to town to the fiddling[9] which it was the pill[10] of the day to cry down. I was much gratified by the show and altogether. I sate by the Duke of Wellington, who was good enough to go out to fetch me a pot of porter. When ”See the Conquering Hero comes” was sung in _Judas Maccabeus_, all eyes were turned upon me. I rose and bowed--but did not think the place was suited for any more marked acknowledgment. The King sang the Coronation Anthem exceedingly well, and Princess Victoria whistled the ”Dead March” in _Saul_ with, perhaps, rather less than her usual effect. But the _chef d'oeuvre_ was confessed by all to be Macaulay in ”The Praise of G.o.d and of the Second Day.” I rose a wiser, and, I think, a sadder man.
Bishop of Worcester spent two days here last week. He begged me with tears in his eyes to be Bishop instead of him. I took a night to consider of it and to examine into my fitness for such a charge--but in the morning gave answer with the elaborateness which the occasion demanded that I would see him ... first.
THE AUTHOR OF ”ALICE”
[Sidenote: _Lewis Carroll_]
DEAR SENIOR CENSOR,--In a desultory conversation on a point connected with the dinner at our high table, you incidentally remarked to me that lobster-sauce, ”though a necessary adjunct to turbot, was not entirely wholesome.”
It is entirely unwholesome. I never ask for it without reluctance; I never take a second spoonful without a feeling of apprehension on the subject of a possible nightmare. This naturally brings me to the subject of Mathematics, and of the accommodation provided by the University for carrying on the calculations necessary in that important branch of Science.
As Members of Convocation are called upon (whether personally, or, as is less exasperating, by letter) to consider the offer of the Clarendon Trustees, as well as every other subject of human or inhuman, interest, capable of consideration, it has occurred to me to suggest for your consideration how desirable roofed buildings are for carrying on mathematical calculations; in fact, the variable character of the weather in Oxford renders it highly inexpedient to attempt much occupation, of a sedentary nature, in the open air.
Again, it is often impossible for students to carry on accurate mathematical calculations in close contiguity to one another, owing to their mutual conversation; consequently these processes require different rooms in which irrepressible conversationalists, who are found to occur in every branch of Society, might be carefully and permanently fixed.
It may be sufficient, for the present, to enumerate the following requisites--others might be added as funds permit:
A. A very large room for calculating Greatest Common Measure. To this a small one might be attached for Least Common Multiple: this, however, might be dispensed with.
B. A piece of open ground for keeping Roots and practising their extraction: it would be advisable to keep Square Roots by themselves, as their corners are apt to damage others.
C. A room for reducing Fractions to their Lowest Terms. This should be provided with a cellar for keeping the Lowest Terms when found, which might also be available to the general body of Undergraduates, for the purpose of ”keeping Terms.”
D. A large room which might be darkened, and fitted up with a magic-lantern, for the purpose of exhibiting circulating Decimals in the act of circulation. This might also contain cupboards, fitted with gla.s.s doors, for keeping the various Scales of Notation.
E. A narrow strip of ground, railed off and carefully levelled for investigating the properties of Asymptotes, and testing practically whether Parallel Lines meet or not: for this purpose it should reach, to use the expressive language of Euclid, ”ever so far.”
This last process of ”continually producing the lines,” may require centuries or more; but such a period, though long in the life of an individual, is as nothing in the life of the University.
As Photography is now very much employed in recording human expression, and might possibly be adapted to Algebraical Expressions, a small photographic room would be desirable, both for general use and for representing the various phenomena of Gravity, Disturbance of Equilibrium, Resolution, etc., which affect the features during severe mathematical operations.
May I trust that you will give your immediate attention to this most important subject?
Believe me, Sincerely yours, MATHEMATICUS....
[Sidenote: _Miss E.G. Thomson_]
It was at the end of December, 1878, that a letter, written in a singularly legible and rather boyish-looking hand, came to me from Christ Church, Oxford, signed ”C.L. Dodgson.” The writer said that he had come across some fairy designs of mine, and he should like to see some more of my work. By the same post came a letter from my London publisher (who had supplied my address) telling me that the ”Rev. C.L.