The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll with an introduction by Alexander Woollcott and the illustrations by John Tenniel |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
|
|
|
|
 | COLLEGE RHYMES AND NOTES BY AN OXFORD CHIEL |
|
|
|
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll |  |
COLLEGE RHYMES AND NOTES BY AN OXFORD CHIEL
FROM COLLEGE RHYMES
ODE TO DAMON
(From Chloë, who Understands His Meaning.)
At the fruiterer's shop in the city:
When you said I was plain and excessively vain,
But I knew that you meant I was pretty.
(For the dumplings, you know) and the suet;
Whilst the apples I told my dear Damon to hold,
(Just to see if you knew how to do it).
And went off in a 'bus with the pippins;
When you said you'd forgot, but I knew you had not;
(It was merely to save the odd threepence!).
Though you said they were tasteless and doughy:
But you winked as you spoke, and I saw that the joke
(If it was one) was meant for your Chloë!
For us all at the Great Exhibition;
You proposed a short cut, and we found the thing shut,
(We were two hours too late for admission).
(And Joe said exactly what we did):
Well, I helped you out then—it was just like you men—
Not an atom of sense when it's needed!
(Never dreaming you were such a ninny).
‘Home directly!’ said I, and you paid for the fly,
(And I think that you gave him a guinea).
You proposed ‘The best thing, as we're come, is
(Since it opens again in the morning at ten)
To wait‘—Oh, you prince of all dummies!
Just as you ran a sword through his middle,
You'd be hung for the crime?’ and you said ‘Give me time!’
And brought to your Chloë the riddle—
(The question which Joe had referred to you),
Why, I told you the cause, was ‘the force of the laws,’
And you said ‘It had never occurred to you.’
And (though your exterior is showy),
To society—come to your Chloë!
Your meaning, you talk so obscurely:
Why, if once I were gone, how would you get on?
Come, you know what I mean, Damon, surely.”
THOSE HORRID HURDY-GURDIES!
A MONODY, BY A VICTIM
And not go about such a figure;
It's a bother, of course, but what do I care?
I shall do as I please when I'm bigger.
As the first-floor and attic were taken.
I tried the garret but once, and found
That my wish for a change was mistaken.
They chatter more and more,
Till I groan aloud, “Oh! let me be!
I have heard it all before!”
What? hasn't he left me yet?
I promise, good man; for its tedious burr
I never can forget.
MY FANCY
With years perhaps a score;
I little thought to find they were
At least a dozen more;
My fancy gave her eyes of blue,
A curly auburn head:
I came to find the blue a green,
The auburn turned to red.
They tingled very much;
I own that I could wish her
A somewhat lighter touch;
And if you were to ask me how
Her charms might be improved,
I would not have them added to,
But just a few removed!
The bland hyena's laugh,
The footstep of the elephant,
The neck of the giraffe;
I love her still, believe me,
Though my heart its passion hides;
“She's all my fancy painted her,”
But oh! how much besides!
THE MAJESTY OF JUSTICE
AN OXFORD IDYLL
And down the High went slowly on;
Then spake the Undergraduate
To that benign and portly Don:
“They say that Justice is a Queen—
A Queen of awful Majesty—
Yet in the papers I have seen
Some things that puzzle me.
There is, called ‘Vice-Cancellarii,’
Which keeps on Undergraduates,
Who do not pay their bills, a wary eye.
A case I'm told was lately brought
Into that tiniest of places,
And justice in that case was sought—
As in most other cases.
Is Justice, neither more than less:
I never dreamed it could depend
On ceremonial or dress.
I thought that her imperial sway
In Oxford surely would appear,
But all the papers seem to say
She's not majestic here.”
With the most roguish of his glances,
Under peculiar circumstances.”
“But that's the point!” the young man cried,
“The puzzle that I wish to pen you in—
How are the public to decide
Which article is genuine?
That we for ‘Majesty’ need hunt?
Would what is Justice in a barge
Be something different in a punt?
“Nay, nay!” the Don replied, amused,
“You're talking nonsense, sir! You know it!
Such arguments were never used
By any friend of Jowett.”
(Beef-eaters I believe they call them)
Before each wigged and ermined judge,
For fear some mischief should befall them?
If I should recognise in one
(Through all disguise) my own domestic,
I fear 'twould shed a gleam of fun
Even on the ‘Majestic’!”
They can't exactly be its essence:
I scarcely think the want of them
The ‘Majesty of Justice’ lessens.
Besides, they always march awry;
Their gorgeous garments never fit:
Processions don't make Majesty—
I'm quite convinced of it.”
Whose countless rows of rigid curls
Are gazed at with admiring eyes
By country lads and servant-girls?”
Out laughed that bland and courteous Don:
“Dear sir, I do not mean to flatter—
But surely you have hit upon
The essence of the matter.
Of Justice, making Monarchs bow,
Unless as evidence they see
The horsehair wig upon her brow.
Yes, yes! That makes the silliest men
Seem wise; the meanest men look big:
The Majesty of Justice, then,
Is seated in the WIG.”
FROM NOTES BY AN OXFORD CHIEL
THE ELECTIONS TO THE HEBDOMADAL COUNCIL
“Now is the winter of our discontent.”
[In the year 1866, a Letter with the above title was published in Oxford, addressed by Mr. Goldwin Smith to the Senior Censor of Christ Church, with the two-fold object of revealing to the University a vast political misfortune which it had unwittingly encountered, and of suggesting a remedy which should at once alleviate the bitterness of the calamity and secure the sufferers from its recurrence. The misfortune thus revealed was no less than the fact that, at a recent election of Members to the Hebdomadal Council, two Conservatives had been chosen, thus giving a Conservative majority in the Council; and the remedy suggested was a sufficiently sweeping one, embracing, as it did, the following details:—
1. “The exclusion” (from Congregation) “of the non-academical elements which form a main part of the strength of this party domination.” These “elements” are afterwards enumerated as “the parish clergy and the professional men of the city, and chaplains who are without any academical occupation.”
2. The abolition of the Hebdomadal Council.
3. The abolition of the legislative functions of Convocation.
These are all the main features of this remarkable scheme of Reform, unless it be necessary to add—
4.“To preside over a Congregation with full legislative powers, the Vice-Chancellor ought no doubt to be a man of real capacity.”
But it would be invidious to suppose that there was any intention of suggesting this as a novelty.
The following rhythmical version of the Letter develops its principles to an extent which possibly the writer had never contemplated.]
Heard ye the dragon-monster's dreadful cry?”—
Excuse this sudden burst of the Heroic;
The present state of things would vex a Stoic!
And just as Sairey Gamp, for pains within,
Administered a modicum of gin,
So does my mind, when vexed and ill at ease,
Console itself with soothing similes,
The “dragon-monster” (pestilential schism!)
I need not tell you is Conservatism.
The “hurtling arrow” (till we find a better)
Is represented by the present Letter.
Dear Senior Censor, that you chanced to say
You thought these party-combinations would
Be found, “though needful, no unmingled good.”
Unmingled good? They are unmingled ill!
I never took to them, and never will—
What am I saying? Heed it not, my friend:
On the next page I mean to recommend
The very dodges that I now condemn
A word of this! (In confidence. Ahem!)
I need not, Senior Censor, for you know it.
That was the Board Hebdomadal, and oh!
Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow!
Let each that wears a beard, and each that shaves,
Join in the cry “We never will be slaves!”
“But can the University afford
To be a slave to any kind of board?
A slave?” you shuddering ask. “Think you it can, Sir?”
“Not at the present moment,” is my answer.
I've thought the matter o'er and o'er again
And given to it all my powers of brain;
I've thought it out, and this is what I make it,
(And I don't care a Tory how you take it:)
It may be right to go ahead, I guess:
It may be right to stop, I do confess;
Also, it may be right to retrogress.
“In a letter on a point connected with the late elections to the Hebdomadal Council you incidentally remarked to me that our combinations for these elections, ‘though necessary were not an unmixed good.’ They are an unmixed evil.”
“I never go to a caucus without reluctance: I never write a canvassing letter without a feeling of repugnance to my task.”
“The University cannot afford at the present moment to be delivered over as a slave to any non-academical interest whatever.”
Must say it beats to fits the one at Delphi!
(For this majority's beyond a joke),
We must combine, aye! hold a caucus-meeting,
Unless we want to get another beating.
That they should “bottle” us is nothing new—
But shall they bottle us and caucus too?
With which Obstructives plunge into the row!
“Factious Minorities,” we used to sigh—
“Factious Majorities” is now the cry.
“Votes—ninety-two”—no combination here:
“Votes—ninety-three”—conspiracy, 'tis clear!
You urge “'Tis but a unit.” I reply
That in that unit lurks their “unity.”
Our voters often bolt, and often baulk us,
But then, they never, never go to caucus!
Our voters can't forget the maxim famous
They never can be worked into a ferment
By visionary promise of preferment,
Nor taught, by hints of “Paradise” beguiled,
To whisper “C for Chairman” like a child!
And thus the friends that we have tempted down
Oft take the two-o'clock Express for town.
That aims at Oxford such a deadly blow.
What champion can we find to save the State,
The residents that are not Liberal—
Leave the young Tutors uncontrolled and free,
And Oxford then shall see—what it shall see.
What next? Why then, I say, let Convocation
Be shorn of all her powers of legislation.
But why stop there? Let us go boldly on—
Sweep everything beginning with a “Con”
Into oblivion! Convocation first,
Conservatism next, and, last and worst,
Consumed and conquered, be consigned to dust!
“To save the University from going completely under the yoke . . . we shall still be obliged to combine.”
“But what are we to do? Here is a great political and theological party . . . labouring under perfect discipline and with fell unity of purpose, to hold the University in subjection, and fill her government with its nominees.”
At a recent election to Council, the Liberals mustered ninety-two votes and the Conservatives ninety-three; whereupon the latter were charged with having obtained their victory by a conspiracy.
Not to mention that, as we cannot promise Paradise to our supporters, they are very apt to take the train for London just before the election.
It is not known to what the word “Paradise” was intended to allude, and therefore the hint, here thrown out, that the writer meant to recall the case of the late Chairman of Mr. Gladstone's committee, who had been recently collated to the See of Chester, is wholly wanton and gratuitous.
Mr. Wayte, now President of Trinity, then put forward as the Liberal candidate for election to Council.
“You and others suggest, as the only effective remedy, that the Constituency should be reformed, by the exclusion of the non-academical elements which form a main part of the strength of this party domination.”
“I confess that, having included all the really academical elements in Congregation, I would go boldly on, and put an end to the Legislative functions of Convocation.”
“This conviction, that while we have Elections to Council we shall not entirely get rid of party organization and its evils, leads me to venture a step further, and to raise the question whether it is really necessary that we should have an Elective Council for legislative purposes at all.”
I heard last Saturday at our high table:—
The cats, it seems, were masters of the house,
And held their own against the rat and mouse:
Of course the others couldn't stand it long,
So held a caucus (not, in their case, wrong);
And, when they were assembled to a man,
Uprose an aged rat, and thus began:—
For ever left in a minority?
Oppose the trusting innocence of rats!
So unsuspicious are we of disguise,
Their machinations take us by surprise—
Insulting and tyrannical absurdities!
It is too bad by half—upon my word it is!
For, now that these Con—, cats, I should say (frizzle 'em!),
Are masters, they exterminate like Islam!
How shall we deal with them? I'll tell you how:—
Let none but kittens be allowed to miaow!
The Liberal kittens seize us but in play,
And, while they frolic, we can run away;
But older cats are not so generous,
Their claws are too Conservative for us!
Then let them keep the stable and the oats,
While kittens, rats, and mice have all the votes.
Their powers for blind obstruction, nor refuse
To let us sip the cream and gnaw the cheese—
How glorious then would be our destinies!
Kittens and rats would occupy the throne,
And rule the larder for itself alone!”
“Sometimes, indeed, not being informed that the wires are at work, we are completely taken by surprise.”
“Their powers would scarcely be exercised for the purposes of fanaticism, or in a spirit of blind obstruction.”
“These narrow local bounds, within which our thoughts and schemes have hitherto been pent, will begin to disappear, and a far wider sphere of action will open on the view.”
“Those councils must be freely opened to all who can serve her well and who will serve her for herself.”
Appeared to me (as I need hardly mention)
Entirely undeserving of attention.
But now, to guide the Congregation, when
It numbers none but really “able” men,
A “Vice-Cancellarius” will be needed
Of every kind of human weakness weeded!
Is such the president that we have got?
He ought no doubt to be; why should he not?
I do not hint that Liberals should dare
To oust the present holder of the chair—
But surely he would not object to be
Gently examined by a Board of three?
Their duty being just to ascertain
That he's “all there” (I mean, of course, in brain),
And that his mind, from “petty details” clear,
Is fitted for the duties of his sphere.
“To preside over a Congregation with full legislative powers, the Vice-Chancellor ought no doubt to be a man of real capacity; but why should he not? His mind ought also, for this as well as for his other high functions, to be clear of petty details, and devoted to the great matters of University business; but why should not this condition also be fulfilled?”
The seal of Parliament upon it set.
A word then, Senior Censor, in your ear:
The Government is in a state of fear—
Like some old gentleman, abroad at night,
Seized with a sudden shiver of affright,
Who offers money, on his bended knees,
To the first skulking vagabond he sees—
Now is the lucky moment for our task;
They daren't refuse us anything we ask!
“If you apply now to Parliament for this or any other University reform, you will find the House of Commons in a propitious mood. . . . Even the Conservative Government, as it looks for the support of moderate Liberals on the one great subject, is very unwilling to present itself in such an aspect that these men may not be able decently to give it their support.”
To Intellect, no meaner quality!
No moral excellence, no social fitness
Shall ever be admissible as witness.
“Avaunt, dull Virtue!” is Oxonia's cry:
“Come to my arms, ingenious Villainy!”
For Classic Fellowships, an honour high,
Simonides and Co. will then apply—
Our Mathematics will to Oxford bring
The 'cutest members of the betting-ring—
Law Fellowships will start upon their journeys
A myriad of unscrupulous attorneys—
While prisoners, doomed till now to toil unknown,
Shall mount the Physical Professor's throne!
And thus would Oxford educate, indeed,
Men far beyond a merely local need—
With no career before them, I may say,
Unless they're wise enough to go away,
And seek far West, or in the distant East,
Another flock of pigeons to be fleeced.
“With open Fellowships, Oxford will soon produce a supply of men fit for the work of high education far beyond her own local demands, and in fact with no career before them unless a career can be opened elsewhere.”
Of Oxford in an age which, though it be
Thus breaking with tradition, owns a new
Allegiance to the intellectual few—
(I mean, of course, the—pshaw! no matter who!)
But, were I to pursue the boundless theme,
I fear that I should seem to you to dream.
“I should seem to you to dream if I were to say what I think the destiny of the University may be in an age which, though it is breaking with tradition, is, from the same causes, owning a new allegiance to intellectual authority.”
To shun Conservatism's noxious star
And all the evils that it brings behind,
These pestilential coils must be untwined—
The party-coils, that clog the march of Mind—
Choked in whose meshes Oxford, slowly wise,
Has lain for three disastrous centuries.
Away with them! (It is for this I yearn!)
Each twist untwist, each Turner overturn!
Disfranchise each Conservative, and cancel
The votes of Michell, Liddon, Wall, and Mansel!
Then, then shall Oxford be herself again,
Neglect the heart, and cultivate the brain—
Then this shall be the burden of our song,
“All change is good—whatever is, is wrong—”
Then Intellect's proud flag shall be unfurled,
And Brain, and Brain alone, shall rule the world!
“But to fulfil this, or even a far humbler destiny—to escape the opposite lot—the pestilential coils of party, in which the University has lain for three disastrous centuries choked, must be untwined.”
THE DESERTED PARKS
Where Cherwell winds towards the distant main;
How often have I loitered o'er thy green,
Where humble happiness endeared the scene!
How often have I paused on every charm,
The rustic couple walking arm in arm—
The groups of trees, with seats beneath the shade
For prattling babes and whisp'ring lovers made—
The never-failing brawl, the busy mill
Where tiny urchins vied in fistic skill—
(Two phrases only have that dusky race
Caught from the learned influence of the place;
Phrases in their simplicity sublime,
“Scramble a copper!” “Please, Sir, what's the time?”
These round thy walks their cheerful influence shed;
There were thy charms—but all these charms are fled.
And rude pavilions sadden all thy green;
One selfish pastime grasps the whole domain,
And half a faction swallows up the plain;
Adown thy glades, all sacrificed to cricket,
The hollow-sounding bat now guards the wicket;
Sunk are thy mounds in shapeless level all,
Lest aught impede the swiftly rolling ball;
And trembling, shrinking from the fatal blow,
Far, far away thy hapless children go.
Where wealth accumulates, and minds decay;
Athletic sports may flourish or may fade,
Fashion may make them, even as it has made;
When once destroyed can never be supplied!
The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay,
'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand
Between a splendid and a happy land.
Proud swells go by with laugh of hollow joy,
And shouting Folly hails them with “Ahoy!”
Funds even beyond the miser's wish abound,
And rich men flock from all the world around.
Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name,
That leaves our useful products still the same.
Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride
Takes up a space that many poor supplied;
Space for the game, and all its instruments,
Space for pavilions and for scorers' tents;
The ball, that raps his shins in padding cased,
Has wore the verdure to an arid waste;
His Park, where these exclusive sports are seen,
Indignant spurns the rustic from the green;
While through the plain, consigned to silence all,
In barren splendour flits the russet ball.
Here oft the calm Professor wandered on;
Strange words he used—men drank with wondering ears
The languages called “dead,” the tongues of other years.
(Enough of Heber! Let me once again
Attune my verse to Goldsmith's liquid strain.)
A man he was to undergraduates dear,
And passing rich with forty pounds a year.
And so, I ween, he would have been till now,
Had not his friends ('twere long to tell you how)
Prevailed on him, Jack-Horner-like, to try
Some method to evaluate his pie,
Five times a hundredweight of luscious plum—
Yet for no thirst of wealth, no love of praise,
In learned labour he consumed his days!
How ill exchanged are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with insidious joy,
Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy;
Iced cobbler, Badminton, and shandy-gaff,
Rouse the loud jest and idiotic laugh;
Inspired by them, to tipsy greatness grown,
Men boast a florid vigour not their own;
At every draught more wild and wild they grow;
While pitying friends observe “I told you so!”
Till, summoned to their post, at the first ball,
A feeble under-hand, their wickets fall.
And half the business of destruction done;
Even now, methinks while pondering here in pity,
I see the rural Virtues leave the city.
Contented Toil, and calm scholastic Care,
And frugal Moderation, all are there;
Resolute Industry that scorns the lure
Of careless mirth—that dwells apart secure—
To science gives her days, her midnight oil,
Cheered by the sympathy of others' toil—
Courtly Refinement, and that Taste in dress
That brooks no meanness, yet avoids excess—
All these I see, with slow reluctant pace
Desert the long-beloved and honoured place!
The spoiler from thee: grant no parleying!
Teach him that eloquence, against the wrong,
Though very poor, may still be very strong;
When hostile to “pro bono publico”;
That faction's empire hastens to its end,
When once mankind to common sense attend;
While independent votes may win the day
Even against the potent spell of “Play!”
EXAMINATION STATUTE
[“The Statute proposed to allow candidates for a degree to forsake Classics after Moderations, except so far as was needed for a Fourth Class in the Final School of Literæ Humaniores, if they wished to graduate in science. This Dodgson considered degrading both to Classics and to Mathematics.” —Dodgson Handbook.]
B is for [Brodie], who swears by the gases.
C is for [Conington], constant to Horace.
D is for [Donkin], who integrates for us.
E is for [Evans], with rifle well steadied.
F is for [Freeman], Examiner dreaded!
G's [Goldwin Smith], by the “Saturday” quoted.
H is for [Heurtley], to “Margaret” devoted.
I am the Author, a rhymer erratic—
J is for [Jowett], who lectures in Attic:
K is for [Kitchen], than attic much warmer.
L is for [Liddell], relentless reformer!
M is for [Mansel], our Logic-provider,
[Ogilvie]'s O, Orthodoxy's Mendoza!
And [Parker] is P, the amendment-proposer.
Q is the Quad, where the Dons are collecting.
R is for [Rolleston], who lives for dissecting:
S is for [Stanley], sworn foe to formality.
T's [Travers Twiss], full of civil legality.
U's University, factiously splitting—
V's the Vice-Chancellor, ceaselessly sitting.
W's [Wall], by Museum made frantic,
X the Xpenditure, grown quite gigantic.
Y are the Young men, whom nobody thought about—
Z is the Zeal that this victory brought about.
| The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll | |