The (almost really) Complete Works of Lewis Carroll

By One Whom It Has Tried

Preface

Long and painful experience has taught me one great principle in managing business for other people, viz., if you want to inspire confidence, give plenty of statistics. It does not matter that they should be accurate, or even intelligible, so long as there is enough of them. A Curator who contents himself with simply doing the business of a Common Room, and who puts out no statistics, is sure to be distrusted. “He keeps us in the dark!” men will say. “He publishes no figures. What does it mean? Is he assisting himself?” But, only circulate some abstruse tables of figures, particularly if printed in lines and columns, so that ordinary readers can make nothing of them, and all is changed at once. “Oh, go on, go on!” they cry, satiated with facts. “Manage things as you like! We trust you entirely!”

Hence this pamphlet.

1. Of Airs, Glares, and Chairs

The Committee (consisting of Mr. Harcourt, Mr. Prout, Mr. Stewart, and Mr. Thompson), who were appointed a year ago “to consider the whole question of lighting and ventilating,” have grappled with, and (it is hoped) pretty nearly solved, the two problems proposed to them—though but scantily supported by the sympathies of Common Room, who, though ready enough to ventilate our proposals as to “light,” have altogether made light of our “ventilation.”

The latter subject was discussed, first, by the full Committee, when the plan most favoured was that of introducing “Tobin” tubes, opening at the top of the wainscot; secondly, by Mr. Harcourt, the Curator, and Mr. Axtell; and thirdly, by the Committee again, who unanimously approved the plan, suggested by Mr. Axtell, of an oblique opening, à la Tobin, pierced through the E. wall of Common Room, and with a valve inside, which might be opened or shut at pleasure. Accordingly the Curator, after obtaining the necessary permission from the G.B., ordered this to be done. The valve has not only served the purpose for which it was designed—it has also furnished some most interesting illustrations of the tricks the human imagination can play, and the influence it has over physical sensations. The Members of C.R., who sat on the E. side of the room, were at first terrified of the prospect of so much cold air beating down on their unsheltered heads. “It is hair we need—not air!” Thus they moaned in their anguish. But the strangest part of it was that it was usually when the valve was shut that they felt most keenly “the pelting of this pitiless storm”: when it was open, they made no complaint. The conclusion seems to be, that the additional ventilation has not really produced any inconvenience, while it has conferred an undoubted benefit, by increasing the longevity of Members of the C.R.—as is plain from the simple consideration that they are, all of them, six months older than they were when the change was made.

The question of “light” has been very fully and fiercely debated by the Committee, and the suggestions made have been so many, and so contradictory, that the great mind of the Curator nearly gave way. The Caterer of the High Table suggested “Hesperus” lamps, as the best for our chandeliers: and Mr. Stewart proposed that two Hesperi should be procured, to stand on the table. Both these ideas, though approved at first, were afterwards modified: the “Hesperus” lamps, for the chandeliers, being opposed by the Vicar of Binsey, who strongly recommended “Defries” lamps instead; while, for the table, it was agreed to request Mr. Thompson to select one of Hinck’s “Duplex” lamps—it being understood that that kind combined high art with high illumination. Mr. Thompson kindly did so, and the result has been “a thing of beauty,” which is also (probably) “a joy for ever,” but it has not yet been tested quite long enough to prove this.

It was further agreed to try the experience of a central chandelier, instead of the two side ones, which were complained of as too dazzling by those who had to sit facing them. This was tried, and the general opinion of C.R. seemed to be that two lamps, in this position, gave all the light needed: this, however, was not the view of the Curator of Livings, who complained that there was not enough light to read the evening papers. With a view to increasing the light, though still retaining the central position, the Committee agreed to the plan of adding two branches to the chandelier, and supplying it with four small Defries’ lamps instead of two large ones. This plan the Curator undertook to carry out: but found, on enquiry, that no smaller lamps of that kind were made. He thought, however, that some increase of light might be effected by substituting ground-glass globes for the so-called “opal” ones (something like transparent china) then in use; and he took the opportunity of substituting globes of the “Lotus” shape for the ordinary spheres.

So the matter rests at present: but if anything like a general wish be found to exist for yet more light, the Committee will do their best to satisfy the cry of ἐν δὲ φάει καὶ ὄλεσσον.

To meet the wishes of the more recumburient Members of Common Room, two easy-chairs have during the past year been added to our furniture: and the history of the transaction is not without a certain financial interest for those who believe in the marvellous cheapness of Co-operative Stores as compared with ordinary shops. The first chair was procured from the Army and Navy Stores, by Mr. R. E. Baynes and Mr. J. B. Thompson (for whose kind trouble I take this opportunity of expressing the thanks of C.R.), and it cost, with packing and carriage, £7 18s. 0d. I thought it possible that, if we ordered (say) three more, we might get them at a rather cheaper rate—in fact Mr. Thompson had told me that the maker had said that, in the event of our ordering more chairs, “he would put the price as low as possible, in the hope that if his work gave satisfaction, C.R. would give him another trial.” Accordingly I wrote to the Stores to enquire how this might be, and at the same time I asked Messr. Badcock (whom we have employed for many years, and whose work, though certainly dear, is uniformly excellent in quality) to examine the chair, and report at what price they would undertake to make us three more exactly like it in every respect. Had they named the same price as the Stores, or even a rather higher price, I should have felt myself justified in ordering the second chair (C.R. decided on having only one more) from them: but the actual result was something of a surprise. The Army and Navy Stores declined to make any reduction in their charges, whereas Messr. Badcock undertook to make the three chairs for £7 2s. 6d. each, being 15s. 6d. less than what the first chair had cost us, thus effecting a saving of nearly 10 per cent.

2. De Re Nummaria

On this topic I am nothing, if not tabular. In the first Table, the items (except those in the last line) are given in round numbers, as their exact values are unattainable. When once the Milk (for instance) has been fairly started on its Milky Way, I have no means of tracing exactly how much of it was consumed in one place and how much in another: but I have taken a good deal of trouble to estimate the proportional values as nearly as possible. My object, in printing these two Tables, is to “show case” for the changes I wish, with the consent of C.R., to make in the charges for Dessert, and for Coffee after Dessert.

In the 2nd column, the charge is, apparently, more than £5 too much: but it must be remembered that an extra sum of £4 10s. is paid annually as “wages,” to meet the extra trouble caused by this new institution: this reduces the excess to 16s. 6d.—a very reasonable margin.

Adding this £4 10s. to the “total expenditure,” we find that the profit made, on the whole, is at the rate of 10 per cent.

The charge for Dessert is too low, while that for Coffee in C.R. is much too high. I propose to modify them as follows:—

which makes the profit, on the two items together, just 10 per cent.

No financial statement can possibly be complete without a word or two about wine. For surely any Curator, worthy of the name, would be found, if physically tested by one Lee’s Reader, to possess a density varying directly, and a gravity varying inversely, as the potency of the Port—if tested anatomically by a second, to have the word ‘WINE’ neatly emblazoned on his heart—and, if finally submitted to quantitative analysis by a third, to consist principally of C₄H₆O₂.

There is not, however, anything specially thrilling to say about this deeply-interesting subject. Water-drinkers will be pleased to hear that we have spent during the past year, with all the recklessness of several Grand Old Men, no less than £768 18s. 9d. on wine, and that the result of this skillful financial operation has been a deficit, on the year’s account, of £44 19s. 9d.—while the wine-drinkers will be equally delighted to learn that the stock of pints of Y’quem has this year reached the proud position occupied, two years ago, by Madeira (B), and that we have enough in hand to last, at the present rate of consumption, for an infinite number of years.

On one point a few words of explanation seem desirable. It occasionally happens that wine is supplied from our Cellar to Members of C.R. residing at a distance from Oxford. This is quite an exceptional transaction, performed as a special favour; and all such applications are referred to the Curator for special sanction. Still, the thing does sometimes occur, and Members, receiving wine in this way, may perhaps be puzzled to find that it costs them decidedly more than it would to get the very same wines from a London merchant, or to get them from C.R. if they were residing in Oxford. In the first place (this affects Oxford and country residents alike), we charge more for our wines than we pay for them: the excess (which is calculated on all our wines on a uniform principle) is required to meet the incidental expenses of the Cellar. In the second place, we charge country purchasers for bottles: this is because we have to purchase bottles, largely, for our own use, those returned in College not being enough for the purpose, so that, when any leave us for distant climes, with the sad farewell words “vestigia nulla retrorsum!,” we cannot afford to let them go for nothing. In the third place, we charge country purchasers for packing: this is because we do not keep cases, &c. in stock, so that, on those special occasions, we have to buy them: it is of course optional for any such purchaser, if he happens to have cases of his own or likes to buy them for himself, to send them to Ch. Ch. to receive the wine applied for, and to retain them when sent back to him.

These charges may perhaps be thought to compare unfavourably with those of wine-merchants, who offer the very same wines at less cost. Let it be remembered, however, that we do not recognise it as a function of C.R. to send wine into the country at all (were we to do so, we should need a far larger Cellar, and should have to sink a far larger capital in wine): and, in the second place, that we have no ambition to undersell the wine-merchants, but are only too glad that Members in the country, who find they can get their wine from London more cheaply than from our Cellar, should do so. It is about as much as we can manage, to supply the wine needed in C.R., in College rooms, and in Oxford.

I thought it well, as this matter does not seem to be well understood, to take this opportunity of explaining it fully and once for all.

There is one item in the Accounts which will, I fear, be almost painfully interesting to Members of C.R. It is the deficit at the end of the year. The thoughtful reader, observing that the year opened with a balance in hand of £280 5s. 10d., and that it closed with a deficit of £44 19s. 9d., will be tempted to exclaim “Oh where, and oh where, is our £325 5s. 7d. gone?” And he will hastily refer to p. 31 of the previous pamphlet, and will whisper “Perhaps it was no joke after all? He has been assisting himself!”

I think I can offer an explanation less blighting to Curatorial reputations. The value of the wine, bought in during the year, was £768 18s. 9d.: the value of the wine sold was £439 3s. 9d. Consequently, we had £329 15s. 0d. worth of wine, at the end of the year, more than we had at the beginning.

Now, for this £439 3s. 9d. worth of wine, which we sold, we charged (for I am not going to miss this opportunity of giving the reader yet another piece of statistics) £520 12s. 2d. “And where does all this handsome profit (more than 18 per cent) go to?” quoth the reader. The answer is “it goes to meet the expenses of the Cellar.” The sum to be accounted for is, as you see, £81 8s. 5d. Of this sum, £38 1s. 3d. has been actually spent on such items as lamp-oil, bottles, corks, &c.: and the remaining £43 7s. 2d. I consider a very moderate contribution, from the wine-bibbers, towards the total of £120 “wages,” considering how much of the labour, thus paid for, belongs to the category of “wine.”

There is one item of our expenditure, which I should be grateful to have the permission of C.R. to increase rather further than I can venture to do on my own responsibility. In order to have a full and satisfactory record of the statistics of C.R., I keep several ledgers myself; and this entails on me (more than it would on a better arithmetician) many hours in the year of almost mechanical work—hours which I may confess, even when addressing friends whom I am glad to be of service to—I spare with difficulty, as it keeps me from work of my own with which I am very anxious to go on. Hitherto I have got a clerk to take a little of this work off my hands, at the cost of about one pound a year: but if C.R. would not object to my spending (say) five pounds a year on getting a little more assistance, it would save me many valuable hours, and would be a great relief to me.

3. De Combibonibus

“Use every man after his dessert, and who shall scape whipping,” sings a certain Swan—meaning, no doubt, that it is only after that refection, when physical vigour is at its lowest ebb, that such an operation can safely be attempted. It is to be hoped, then, that some such mollia tempora may occur to the reader, for receiving the melancholy announcment I have to make, regarding the Pichon Longueville 1875, which we are now drinking at Dessert, apparently with much satisfaction. I find that our present stock can hardly meet the demands of Common Room and College Rooms for three years longer; and we must then begin drinking the Rauzan Segla 1881, though no doubt it would be all the better if we could keep it another year or two. Under these circumstances, in order to make the Pichon last as long as possible, the Committee have settled to stop its going out of College in future. Members living in Oxford will, it is hoped, not take it as a hardship to have to replenish their cellars, with dessert-Claret, by buying it direct from the merchant. Members living in the country can scarcely construe it as a hardship in any sense, considering that it is against the standing rules, and only possible by special permission of the Curator, for any wines whatever to be sent from our Cellar out of Oxford. The following resolution was passed at a regular C.R. Meeting:—“Ordered, that the privilege of taking out wine from the Common Room Cellar be limited to Oxford Residents paying £2 2s. subscription, except in the case of the Chaplains, who may enjoy the same privilege with their subscription of £1.”

In furtherance of the same object, I try so to regulate the orders for this fluid at Dessert, that there may not be an unnecessary amount opened and thus (partially) wasted: for it must be remembered that Pichon, once opened, cannot be used at Dessert next day, but has to be consumed as dinner-Claret. Thus, I try to avoid having a whole bottle opened when there is only one biburient to consume it (for alas, we are no longer viri merioris aevi, when even “six-bottle-men” were not unknown!), or even a pint when there is none. I calculate that, if an extra bottle of Pichon be ordered in, and only two glasses taken, those two glasses cost 3s. 1d., of which 1s. 4d. is borne by the biburients present, and the remaining 1s. 9d. by C.R. It is, I think, superfluous to say, that my only motive in this is to save C.R. from needless waste of property. Personal interest I have none: such an occurrence might possibly raise my individual charge, for the evening, one penny higher—but I can honestly say I do not care twopence whether it does so or not.

One other combibulous topic I will venture to touch on—with some timidity, and yet feeling that it is one that only the Curator can well discuss. The ancient custum (a really ancient one, dating even further back than my predecessor’s accession to office), of dressing for dinner, seems to be dying out—which I think is to be regretted. I do not plead for it as an aesthetic virtue, or even as a social propriety: I rest my appeal simply on the appearance such an omission must present to our guests. They come, almost without exception, in evening-dress, and I think it must strike them as strange that some of their hosts appeal in morning-dress. I say “their hosts” advisedly, for I have always felt (long before I became Curator) that the guest of one Member of C.R. is virtually the guest of all. As Curator, I am specially glad to act on this principle, and am always pleased when any Member puts his friend next me in Common Room, and lets me help to make him welcome: but I used to feel it, even in those earlier days of happy obscurity, that I look back on with such agonising regret! I hope I have not handled this topic so roughly as to wound the feelings of any Member, however auroral in his costume.

4. De Meri Meritis

Mais revenons à nos moutons. I have yet a word to say regarding one of our choicest wines, the “Mouton” Claret. On this subject we, the Wine-Committee, have displayed a nervous trepidation—not to say a hysterical hyperæsthesia—absolutely morbid. About a year ago a panic seized us. One or two bottles had turned out bad (“corked,” or whatever it might have been): and suddenly the cry went up “All is lost!”: wild words, such as “It is past its prime!” “It is worth only three shillings a bottle!”, hurtled in the air: the very constitution of the Cellar was affected for a time: symptoms of diminished circulation and of slight consumption showed themselves. The Curator trembled, but would not quit the gory field in such frantic haste, or give the order (which the then frenzied Committee would have hailed with delight) to empty the remaining bottles into Mercury—thereby certainly demoralising, and probably destroying, its scaly inmates. “We are but amateurs,” he said to himself: “and, though Christ Church Students, we are still fallible! Let us see what the experts say.” Thereupon he submitted some of the wines to a professional “taster,” Mr. F. Snow, of the firm of Snow and Co. That eminent firm seems to have resolved itself, in the service of C.R., into a “tasting-committee,” and their joint verdict will, I think, be read with interest by other Members of the C.R., besides ourselves, the scared Committee.

“The wine maturing very well: slightly coarse, almost imperceptibly ‘stalky’: will be in prime probably about three or four years: good useful wine.

“The term ‘stalky’ means a slight taste of the stalk of the grape, which sometimes gives a slight acrid taste: but in this case it is so very slight, that no one but a practised expert would notice it.

“Tell the gentlemen of Common Room that they have very fair property in this wine, and that the idea that it is ‘going off’ is wholly erroneous.”

This was very satisfactory; but the phrase “will be in prime probably about three or four years” seemed ambiguous: it might be intended for “is now in prime and will remain so for three or four years,” or “will reach its prime after three or four years.” Also a new terror had seized us: a few bottles, which had proved sour (“vinegar” was the Committee’s epithet), were supposed to owe their ruin to bad corks: and the Committee advised (we are only amateurs, remember!) that the remaining 160 bottles (or at least all whose corks seemed in doubtful condition) should be recorked.

Here again the Curator, afflicted with a chronic distrust of amateur theories about wine, referred to head-quarters for advice: and this is what Mr. F. Snow says in reply.

“When we wrote ‘will be in prime probably about three or four years,’ we meant that the zenith of its prime will be reached in that period; after that we opine that it will deteriorate.

“In other words, the wine is in thorough good order for present drinking, and will improve for the next three or four years, when the development of its several chemical constituent parts, such as tannin, flesh, saccharine matter, &c. &c., will cease.

“I am puzzled with what you tell me regarding some of the bottles turning out so badly, which certainly ought not to be. Perhaps this particular wine was bottled in France? The corks used in France are nearly always of inferior quality. And I attribute these little malheurs either to dirty bottles or cheap and inferior corks, which have not withstood the test of time.

“On no account think of having this wine recorked: the result would be most disastrous: you would have 160 bottles of vinegar, instead of the percentage now in your bin. Claret is unlike Port, Sherry, Madeira, and wines of high alcoholic strength. Decomposition would at once ensue, and all would be spoiled.”

What effect the perusal of these remarks of an expert may have on C.R. generally, I know not. To me, curatorially, they are cheering beyond words. For, though I share with the rest of the Committee the humilation of being treated as fallible—the having the conviction forced upon me that I may (to use the eloquent words of the author of “Hugh Heron”, “that I may possibly be, on rare occasions, and in the subordinate details of some trivial question, partially mistaken”—yet this agony is compensated by the removal of an incubus! The devouring anxiety (members of the C.R. may have noticed its crushing effect on me, producing a lambent—not to say sheepish—style of conversation?) on the subject of “Mouton” is now wholly and at once removed! Those, who have not felt the anxiety, cannot fully realise the relief. The wretch, who groans with a bad tooth, is grateful to the dentist who extracts it for him: but were the same dentist to rush, pincers in hand, into the street, stop the first passer-by, and wrench from his jaw some perfectly sound tooth, similar expressions of gratitude could not reasonably be looked for.

5. De Liciæ Statisticæ

There is not much to say about the third Table, which I have reserved as a bonne bouche for the now jaded reader. If he does not peruse it with a breathless delight, and does not make it the solid food of his waking thoughts, the golden ideal of his dreams—why, all I can say is, he must have some other subject which interests him more.

Three wines occur in this Table, which are not yet entered on the wine-card, and have not yet had any values “assigned” to them by the Wine-Commitee. These are the Margaux, the Rauzan Segla, and the Médoc/81. The values I have assigned to them are therefore entirely conjectural, and it must not be too hopefully assumed that the Wine-Commitee will adopt them.

Enough, enough! I have said my say, gentle Reader! Turn the page, and revel, to your heart’s content, in