Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll Theory was he to construct from them? The Researcher found CHAPTER 18
himself at fault. Yet stay! One Fact had escaped his notice.
While all the rest were grouped in twos and in threes, Arthur QUEER STREET, NUMBER
was alone: while all tongues were talking, his was silent: while FORTY
all faces were gay, his was gloomy and despondent. Here was a Fact indeed! The Researcher felt that a Theory must be Lady Muriel was the speaker. And, for the moment, that constructed without delay.
was the only fact I could clearly realise. But how she came to Lady Muriel had just risen and left the party. Could that be there and how I came to be there—and how the glass of be the cause of his despondency? The Theory hardly rose to champagne came to be there—all these were questions which the dignity of a Working Hypothesis. Clearly more Facts I felt it better to think out in silence, and not commit myself were needed.
to any statement till I understood things a little more clearly.
The Researcher looked round him once more: and now
‘First accumulate a mass of Facts: and then construct a the Facts accumulated in such bewildering profusion, that Theory.’ That, I believe, is the true Scientific Method. I sat the Theory was lost among them. For Lady Muriel had gone up, rubbed my eves, and began to accumulate Facts.
to meet a strange gentleman, just visible in the distance: and A smooth grassy slope, bounded, at the upper end, by ven-now she was returning with him, both of them talking ea-erable ruins half buried in ivy, at the lower, by a stream seen gerly and joyfully, like old friends who have been long parted: through arching trees—a dozen gaily-dressed people, seated and now she was moving from group to group, introducing in little groups here and there—some open hampers—the the new hero of the hour: and he, young, tall, and hand-debris of a picnic—such were the Facts accumulated by the some, moved gracefully at her side, with the erect bearing Scientific Researcher. And now, what deep, far-reaching and firm tread of a soldier. Verily, the Theory looked gloomy 111
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll for Arthur! His eye caught mine, and he crossed to me.
interrupted discussion.
“He is very handsome,” I said.
“Talking of Herbert Spencer,” he began, “do you really
“Abominably handsome!” muttered Arthur: then smiled find no logical difficulty in regarding Nature as a process of at his own bitter words. “Lucky no one heard me but you!” involution, passing from definite coherent homogeneity to
“Doctor Forester,” said Lady Muriel, who had just joined indefinite incoherent heterogeneity?” us, “let me introduce to you my cousin Eric Lindon Captain Amused as I was at the ingenious jumble he had made of Lindon, I should say.”
Spencer’s words, I kept as grave a face as I could.
Arthur shook off his ill-temper instantly and completely, No physical difficulty,” she confidently replied: “but I as he rose and gave the young soldier his hand. “I have heard haven’t studied Logic much. Would you state the difficulty?” of you,” he said. “I’m very glad to make the acquaintance of
“Well,” said Arthur, “do you accept it as self-evident? Is it Lady Muriel’s cousin.”
as obvious, for instance, as that ‘things that are greater than
“Yes, that’s all I’m distinguished for, as yet!” said Eric (so the same are greater than one another’?” we soon got to call him) with a winning smile. “And I doubt,”
“To my mind,” she modestly replied, “it seems quite as glancing at Lady Muriel, “if it even amounts to a good-con-obvious. I grasp both truths by intuition. But other minds duct-badge! But it’s something to begin with.” may need some logical—I forget the technical terms.”
“You must come to my father, Eric,” said Lady Muriel. “I
“For a complete logical argument,” Arthur began with think he’s wandering among the ruins.” And the pair moved admirable solemnity, “we need two prim Misses—” on.
“Of course!” she interrupted. “I remember that word now.
The gloomy look returned to Arthur’s face: and I could And they produce—?”
see it was only to distract his thoughts that he took his place
“A Delusion,” said Arthur.
at the side of the metaphysical young lady, and resumed their
“Ye—es?” she said dubiously. “I don’t seem to remember 112
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll that so well. But what is the whole argument called?” to convey five people to Elveston, with a carriage that would
“A Sillygism?
only hold four, must somehow be solved.
“Ah, yes! I remember now. But I don’t need a Sillygism, The Honorable Eric Lindon, who was at this moment walk-you know, to prove that mathematical axiom you men-ing up and down with Lady Muriel, might have solved it at tioned.”
once, no doubt, by announcing his intention of returning
“Nor to prove that ‘all angles are equal’, I suppose?” on foot. Of this solution there did not seem to be the very
“Why, of course not! One takes such a simple truth as that smallest probability.
for granted!”
The next best solution, it seemed to me, was that I should Here I ventured to interpose, and to offer her a plate of walk home: and this I at once proposed.
strawberries and cream. I felt really uneasy at the thought
“You’re sure you don’t mind?’, said the Earl. “I’m afraid that she might detect the trick: and I contrived, unperceived the carriage wont take us all, and I don’t like to suggest to by her, to shake my head reprovingly at the pseudo-philoso-Eric to desert his cousin so soon.” pher. Equally unperceived by her, Arthur slightly raised his
“So far from minding it,” I said, “I should prefer it. It will shoulders, and spread his hands abroad, as who should say give me time to sketch this beautiful old ruin.”
“What else can I say to her?” and moved away, leaving her to
“I’ll keep you company,” Arthur suddenly said. And, in discuss her strawberries by ‘involution,’ or any other way answer to what I suppose was a look of surprise on my face, she preferred.
he said in a low voice, “I really would rather. I shall be quite By this time the carriages, that were to convey the revelers de trop in the carriage!”
to their respective homes, had begun to assemble outside
“I think I’ll walk too,” said the Earl. “You’ll have to be the Castle-grounds: and it became evident—now that Lady content with Eric as your escort,” he added, to Lady Muriel, Muriel’s cousin had joined our party that the problem, how who had joined us while he was speaking.
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“You must be as entertaining as Cerberus—’three gentle-
“I came back to remind you,” Arthur said, “that the trains men rolled into one’—” Lady Muriel said to her compan-go every ten minutes—”
ion. “It will be a grand military exploit!”
“Nonsense!” I said. “It isn’t the Metropolitan Railway!”
“A sort of Forlorn Hope?” the Captain modestly suggested.
“It is the Metropolitan Railway,” the Earl insisted. “‘This
“You do pay pretty compliments!” laughed his fair cousin.
is a part of Kensington.”
“Good day to you, gentlemen three—or rather deserters
“Why do you talk with your eyes shut?” said Arthur. “Wake three!” And the two young folk entered the carriage and were up!”
driven away.
“I think it’s the heat makes me so drowsy,” I said, hoping,
“How long will your sketch take?” said Arthur.
but not feeling quite sure, that I was talking sense. “Am I
“Well,” I said, “I should like an hour for it. Don’t you awake now?”
think you had better go without me? I’ll return by train. I
“I think not, “the Earl judicially pronounced. “What do know there’s one in about an hour’s time.” you think, Doctor? He’s only got one eye open!”
“Perhaps that would be best,” said the Earl. “The Station
“And he’s snoring like anything!” cried Bruno. “Do wake is quite close.”
up, you dear old thing!” And he and Sylvie set to work, roll-So I was left to my own devices, and soon found a coming the heavy head from side to side, as if its connection fortable seat, at the foot of a tree, from which I had a good with the shoulders was a matter of no sort of importance.
view of the ruins.
And at last the Professor opened his eyes, and sat up, blink-
“It is a very drowsy day,” I said to myself, idly turning over ing at us with eyes of utter bewilderment. “Would you have the leaves of the sketch-book to find a blank page. “Why, I the kindness to mention,” he said, addressing me with his thought you were a mile off by this time!” For, to my sur-usual old-fashioned courtesy, “whereabouts we are just now prise, the two walkers were back again.
and who we are, beginning with me?” 114
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll I thought it best to begin with the children. “This is Sylvie.
Guileless peasant!” he proceeded in a louder voice. “Would Sir; and this is Bruno.”
you tell us the way to Outland?”
“Ah, yes! I know them well enough!” the old man mur-The guileless peasant turned with a sheepish grin. “Hey?” mured. “Its myself I’m most anxious about. And perhaps was all he said.
you’ll be good enough to mention, at the same time, how I
“The way—to—Outland!” the Professor repeated.
got here?”
The guileless peasant set down his buckets and consid-
“A harder problem occurs to me,” I ventured to say: “and ered. “Ah dunnot—”
that is, how you’re to get back again.”
“I ought to mention,” the Professor hastily put in, “that
“True, true!” the Professor replied. “That’s the Problem, whatever you say will be used in evidence against you.” no doubt. Viewed as a Problem, outside of oneself, it is a The guileless peasant instantly resumed his buckets. “Then most interesting one. Viewed as a portion of one’s own biog-ah says nowt!” he answered briskly, and walked away at a raphy, it is, I must admit, very distressing!” He groaned, but great pace.
instantly added, with a chuckle, “As to myself, I think you The children gazed sadly at the rapidly vanishing figure.
mentioned that I am—”
“He goes very quick!” the Professor said with a sigh. “But I
“Oo’re the Professor!” Bruno shouted in his ear. “Didn’t know that was the right thing to say. I’ve studied your En-oo know that? Oo’ve come from Outland! And it’s ever so glish Laws. However, let’s ask this next man that’s coming.
far away from here!”
He is not guileless, and he is not a peasant—but I don’t know The Professor leapt to his feet with the agility of a boy.
that either point is of vital importance.”
“Then there’s no time to lose!” he exclaimed anxiously. “I’ll It was, in fact, the Honourable Eric Lindon, who had ap-just ask this guileless peasant, with his brace of buckets that parently fulfilled his task of escorting Lady Muriel home, contain (apparently) water, if he’ll be so kind as to direct us.
and was now strolling leisurely up and down the road out-115
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll side the house, enjoying; a solitary cigar.
To my surprise, Bruno ran forwards to him, as if he were
“Might I trouble you, Sir, to tell us the nearest way to some old friend of theirs, seized the disengaged hand and Outland!” Oddity as he was, in outward appearance, the hung on to it with both of his own: and there stood this tall Professor was, in that essential nature which no outward dis-dignified officer in the middle of the road, gravely swinging guise could conceal, a thorough gentleman.
a little boy to and fro, while Sylvie stood ready to push him, And, as such, Eric Lindon accepted him instantly. He took exactly as if a real swing had suddenly been provided for the cigar from his mouth, and delicately shook off the ash, their pastime.
while he considered. “The name sounds strange to me,” he
“We don’t want to get to Babylon, oo know!” Bruno ex-said. “I doubt if I can help you?’
plained as he swung.
“It is not very far from Fairyland,” the Professor suggested.
“And it isn’t candlelight: it’s daylight!” Sylvie added, giving Eric Lindon’s eye-brows were slightly raised at these words, the swing a push of extra vigour, which nearly took the whole and an amused smile, which he courteously tried to repress, machine off its balance.
flitted across his handsome face: “A trifle cracked!” he mut-By this time it was clear to me that Eric Lindon was quite tered to himself. “But what a jolly old patriarch it is!” Then unconscious of my presence. Even the Professor and the he turned to the children. “And ca’n’t you help him, little children seemed to have lost sight of me: and I stood in the folk?” he said, with a gentleness of tone that seemed to win midst of the group, as unconcernedly as a ghost, seeing but their hearts at once. “Surely you know all about it?
unseen.
‘How many miles to Babylon?
“How perfectly isochronous!” the Professor exclaimed with Three-score miles and ten.
enthusiasm. He had his watch in his hand, and was carefully Can I get there by candlelight?
counting Bruno’s oscillations. “He measures time quite as Yes, and back again!’”
accurately as a pendulum!”
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“Yet even pendulums,” the good-natured young soldier
“Lovely indeed,” he said. “Where did you come from?
observed, as he carefully released his hand from Bruno’s grasp, Dropped from the clouds?”
“are not a joy for ever! Come, that’s enough for one bout,
“I’m strolling your way,” I said; and no further explana-little man!’ Next time we meet, you shall have another. Mean-tion seemed necessary.
while you’d better take this old gentleman to Queer Street,
“Have a cigar?”
Number—”
“Thanks: I’m not a smoker.”
“We’ll find it!” cried Bruno eagerly, as they dragged the
“Is there a Lunatic Asylum near here?” Professor away.
“Not that I know of.”
“We are much indebted to you!” the Professor said, look-
“Thought there might be. Met a lunatic just now. Queer ing over his shoulder.
old fish as ever I saw!”
“Don’t mention it!” replied the officer, raising his hat as a And so, in friendly chat, we took our homeward ways, and parting salute.
wished each other ‘good-night’ at the door of his hotel.
“What number did you say!” the Professor called from the Left to myself, I felt the ‘eerie’ feeling rush over me again, distance.
and saw, standing at the door of Number Forty, the three The officer made a trumpet of his two hands. “Forty!” he figures I knew so well.
shouted in stentorian tones. “And not piano, by any means!”
“Then it’s the wrong house?” Bruno was saying.
he added to himself. “It’s a mad world, my masters, a mad
“No, no! It’s the right house,” the Professor cheerfully re-world!” He lit another cigar, and strolled on towards his ho-plied: “but it’s the wrong street. That’s where we’ve made tel.
our mistake! Our best plan, now, will be to—”
“What a lovely evening!” I said, joining him as he passed It was over. The street was empty, Commonplace life was me.
around me, and the ‘eerie’ feeling had fled.
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Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll to himself, almost inaudibly, “Where two or three are gath-CHAPTER 19
ered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
“Yes,” I assented: “no doubt that is the principle on which HOW TO MAKE A PHLIZZ
church-going rests.”
“And when he does go,” he continued (our thoughts ran The week passed without any further communication with so much together, that our conversation was often slightly the ‘Hall,’ as Arthur was evidently fearful that we might elliptical), “I suppose he repeats the words ‘I believe in the
‘wear out our welcome’; but when, on Sunday morning, we Communion of Saints’?”
were setting out for church, I gladly agreed to his proposal But by this time we had reached the little church, into to go round and enquire after the Earl, who was said to be which a goodly stream of worshipers, consisting mainly of unwell.
fishermen and their families, was flowing.
Eric, who was strolling in the garden, gave us a good re-The service would have been pronounced by any modern port of the invalid, who was still in bed, with Lady Muriel in aesthetic religionist—or religious aesthete, which is it?—to attendance.
be crude and cold: to me, coming fresh from the ever-ad-
“Are you coming with us to church?” I enquired.
vancing developments of a London church under a soi-disant
“Thanks, no,” he courteously replied. “It’s not—exactly
‘Catholic’ Rector, it was unspeakably refreshing.
in my line, you know. It’s an excellent institution—for the There was no theatrical procession of demure little choris-poor. When I’m with my own folk, I go, just to set them an ters, trying their best not to simper under the admiring gaze example. But I’m not known here: so I think I’ll excuse myself of the congregation: the people’s share in the service was sitting out a sermon. Country-preachers are always so dull!” taken by the people themselves, unaided, except that a few Arthur was silent till we were out of hearing. Then he said good voices, judiciously posted here and there among them, 118
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll kept the singing from going too far astray.
gone for a stroll.
There was no murdering of the noble music, contained in We joined them, and the conversation soon turned on the the Bible and the Liturgy, by its recital in a dead monotone, sermon we had just heard, the subject of which was ‘selfish-with no more expression than a mechanical talking-doll.
ness.’
No, the prayers were prayed, the lessons were read, and
“What a change has come over our pulpits,” Arthur re-best of all the sermon was talked; and I found myself repeat-marked, “since the time when Paley gave that utterly selfish ing, as we left the church, the words of Jacob, when he definition of virtue, ‘the doing good to mankind, in obedi-
‘awaked out of his sleep.’ “‘Surely the Lord is in this place!
ence to the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting hap-This is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate piness’!”
of heaven.’”
Lady Muriel looked at him enquiringly, but she seemed to
“Yes,” said Arthur, apparently in answer to my thoughts, have learned by intuition, what years of experience had taught
“those ‘high’ services are fast becoming pure Formalism.
me, that the way to elicit Arthur’s deepest thoughts was nei-More and more the people are beginning to regard them as ther to assent nor dissent, but simply to listen.
‘performances,’ in which they only ‘assist’ in the French sense.
“At that time,” he went on, “a great tidal wave of selfish-And it is specially bad for the little boys. They’d be much less ness was sweeping over human thought. Right and Wrong self-conscious as pantomime-fairies. With all that dressing-had somehow been transformed into Gain and Loss, and up, and stagy-entrances and exits, and being always en evi-Religion had become a sort of commercial transaction. We dence, no wonder if they’re eaten up with vanity, the blatant may be thankful that our preachers are beginning to take a little coxcombs!”
nobler view of life.”
When we passed the Hall on our return, we found the
“But is it not taught again and again in the Bible?” I ven-Earl and Lady Muriel sitting out in the garden. Eric had tured to ask.
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“Not in the Bible as a whole,” said Arthur. “In the Old Then gladly will we give to Thee, Testament, no doubt, rewards and punishments are constantly Giver of all!’
appealed to as motives for action. That teaching is best for children, and the Israelites seem to have been, mentally, ut-
“Yes,” he said grimly: “that is the typical stanza. And the ter children. We guide our children thus, at first: but we very last charity-sermon I heard was infected with it. After appeal, as soon as possible, to their innate sense of Right and giving many good reasons for charity, the preacher wound Wrong: and, when that stage is safely past, we appeal to the up with ‘and, for all you give, you will be repaid a thousand-highest motive of all, the desire for likeness to, and union fold!’ Oh the utter meanness of such a motive, to be put with, the Supreme Good. I think you will find that to be the before men who do know what self-sacrifice is, who can ap-teaching of the Bible, as a whole, beginning with ‘that thy preciate generosity and heroism! Talk of Original Sin!” he days may be long in the land,’ and ending with ‘be ye per-went on with increasing bitterness. “Can you have a stron-fect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.’” ger proof of the Original Goodness there must be in this We were silent for awhile, and then Arthur went off on nation, than the fact that Religion has been preached to us, another tack. “Look at the literature of Hymns, now. How as a commercial speculation, for a century, and that we still cankered it is, through and through, with selfishness! There believe in a God?”
are few human compositions more utterly degraded than
“It couldn’t have gone on so long,” Lady Muriel musingly some modern Hymns!”
remarked, “if the Opposition hadn’t been practically si-I quoted the stanza
lenced—put under what the French call la cloture. Surely in any lecture-hall, or in private society, such teaching would
“Whatever, Lord, we tend to Thee, soon have been hooted down?”
Repaid a thousandfold shall be,
“I trust so,” said Arthur: “and, though I don’t want to see 120
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll
‘brawling in church’ legalised, I must say that our preachers and sauntered down the stairs to see it come in. But there enjoy an enormous privilege—which they ill deserve, and was little to gratify my idle curiosity: and, when the train which they misuse terribly. We put our man into a pulpit, was empty, and the platform clear, I found it was about time and we virtually tell him ‘Now, you may stand there and talk to be moving on, if I meant to reach the Hall by five.
to us for half-an-hour. We won’t interrupt you by so much As I approached the end of the platform, from which a as a word! You shall have it all your own way!’ And what steep irregular wooden staircase conducted to the upper does he give us in return? Shallow twaddle, that, if it were world, I noticed two passengers, who had evidently arrived addressed to you over a dinner-table, you would think ‘Does by the train, but who, oddly enough, had entirely escaped the man take me for a fool?’”
my notice, though the arrivals had been so few. They were a The return of Eric from his walk checked the tide of young woman and a little girl: the former, so far as one could Arthur’s eloquence, and, after a few minutes’ talk on more judge by appearances, was a nursemaid, or possibly a nurs-conventional topics, we took our leave. Lady Muriel walked ery-governess, in attendance on the child, whose refined face, with us to the gate. “You have given me much to think about,” even more than her dress, distinguished her as of a higher she said earnestly, as she gave Arthur her hand. “I’m so glad class than her companion.
you came in!” And her words brought a real glow of pleasure The child’s face was refined, but it was also a worn and sad into that pale worn face of his.
one, and told a tale (or so I seemed to read it) of much illness On the Tuesday, as Arthur did not seem equal to more and suffering, sweetly and patiently borne. She had a little walking, I took a long stroll by myself, having stipulated crutch to help herself along with: and she was now standing, that he was not to give the whole day to his books, but was looking wistfully up the long staircase, and apparently wait-to meet me at the Hall at about tea-time. On my way back, ing till she could muster courage to begin the toilsome as-I passed the Station just as the afternoon-train came in sight, cent.
121
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll There are some things one says in life—as well as things without her: and, when we reached the road above, with its one does—which come automatically, by reflex action, as cart-ruts and loose stones—all formidable obstacles for a lame the physiologists say (meaning, no doubt, action without child—I found that I had said “I’d better carry her over this reflection, just as lucus is said to be derived ‘a non lucendo’).
rough place,” before I had formed any mental connection Closing one’s eyelids, when something seems to be flying between its roughness and my gentle little burden. “Indeed into the eye, is one of those actions, and saying “May I carry it’s troubling you too much, Sir!” the maid exclaimed. “She the little girl up the stairs?” was another. It wasn’t that any can walk very well on the flat.” But the arm, that was twined thought of offering help occurred to me, and that then I about my neck, clung just an atom more closely at the sug-spoke: the first intimation I had, of being likely to make that gestion, and decided me to say “She’s no weight, really. I’ll offer, was the sound of my own voice, and the discovery that carry her a little further. I’m going your way.” the offer had been made. The servant paused, doubtfully The nurse raised no further objection: and the next speaker glancing from her charge to me, and then back again to the was a ragged little boy, with bare feet, and a broom over his child. “Would you like it, dear?” she asked her. But no such shoulder, who ran across the road, and pretended to sweep doubt appeared to cross the child’s mind: she lifted her arms the perfectly dry road in front of us. “Give us a ‘ap’ny!” the eagerly to be taken up. “Please!” was all she said, while a little urchin pleaded, with a broad grin on his dirty face.
faint smile flickered on the weary little face. I took her up
“Don’t give him a ‘ap’ny!” said the little lady in my arms.
with scrupulous care, and her little arm was at once clasped The words sounded harsh: but the tone was gentleness itself.
trustfully round my neck.
“He’s an idle little boy!” And she laughed a laugh of such She was a very light weight—so light, in fact, that the silvery sweetness as I had never yet heard from any lips but ridiculous idea crossed my mind that it was rather easier Sylvie’s. To my astonishment, the boy actually joined in the going up, with her in my arms, than it would have been laugh, as if there were some subtle sympathy between them, 122
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll as he ran away down the road and vanished through a gap in flowers grow wild about here? I never saw—” but the speech the hedge.
died away on my lips. The nursemaid had vanished!
But he was back in a