The (almost really) Complete Works of Lewis Carroll

By One Who Has Tried It

Preface

This book is not a plagiarism—as its name might at first suggest—of “Five Years in Penal Servitude.” Nor, again, is it meant to traverse precisely the same ground as “Six Months on the Treadmill”. There is a general resemblance, no doubt, to both the above works: still, it may be claimed for the present memoir, that it deals with some phases of humanity not hitherto analyzed, and narrates some woes that are peculiarly its own.

An apology is needed for its great length: but I have not had time to condense it into smaller compass.

1. Of Crimes

The record, which I here propose to lay before the members of Ch. Ch. Common Room, of my first—not improbably my last—year in the office to which they have done me the honour of electing me, will be found largely autobiographical (a euphemism for “egotistic”), slightly apologetic, cautiously retrospective, and boldly prophetic: it will be at once financial, carbonaceous, aesthetic, chalybeate, literary, and alcoholic: it will be pervaded with mystery, and spiced with hints of thrilling plots and deeds of darkness: in short, it will contain, as I believe, something to suit all tastes, but nothing, I sincerely trust, that can reasonably offend any.

Perhaps, as the crimes are my own, I had better take them to begin with, and so work on to something more pleasant. Would Common Room, then, “be surprised to hear” (to recur to the old “Tichbourne” formula) that I have been breaking the rules, supposed to exist for the guidance of the Curator, with all the abandon of a bull, when critically inspecting a collection of old Dresden China? I meant of course the letter of the rules, for to the spirit of our constitution I trust I have been, and ever shall be, loyal. To put the matter briefly, my simple wish is to do what is most for the interest of C.R.; and where their interests clash with the letter of any rule, I take the responsibility of breaking the rule.

Let me illustrate my meaning.

There are certain monthly magazines taken in—the (miscalled) Fortnightly, the Contemporary, the Nineteenth Century, and the National Review. When these were voted for (all but the last, which I added on my own responsibility), nothing was said as to continuity: presumably, they were to be taken in right through the year. But, being in residence, with two or three others, at the beginning of the Long Vacation, it occurred to me, “We are all going down. For the next three months these magazines will come in, and will find no one to read them. Could I not save C.R. a few shillings by contermanding them till next Term? And then, if there is any one (which seems unlikely) anxious to read the back numbers, I can easily get them.” Accordingly, I asked those who were then residing if they wanted any of the numbers for the new month: one number was asked for, and that I procured. And, when the Term began again, I had only one complaint made on the subject: but as the complaint did not seem at all to wish to read the omitted numbers, but merely bewailed the breach of the rule because it was a rule, I exercised a masterly inactivity. Moderate Conservatism always commands my respect: but a Conservatism that demands a rigid adherence to the letter of the constitution—no reasoning process being permitted, nor any attempt to “correspond with the environment”—this is something I cannot sympathise with nor even understand.

Let us take another instance. One of the rules, affecting Honorary Members of C.R., is that they may not have wine from the cellars, except for use in C.R. It seemed to me hardly to meet the case of the two newly-elected “non-official” Students: and I have taken the responsibility of dispensing with the rule in their case. The ultra-Conservatives may perhaps lament the broken letter of the law: but I trust the majority of C.R. will acquit me of having acted unreasonably, or disloyally, towards the spirit of the constitution.

A third instance will be found in the Rules of the Wine Committee, which have fared but badly at my hands: “compound and comminuted fracture” is the scientific term, I believe, for the process I have put them through: but this matter is too awful to be dealt with here: it must have a section to itself.

So far, then, I present myself as an old and hardened criminal, glorying in his misdeeds. Let us try a pleasanter theme.

2. Of Finance

At the audit of Dec. 1882, the balance in favour of C.R. was declared to be £547 15s. 4d.: in Dec. 1883, it was £37 11s. 3d.; leaving a difference of £510 4s. 1d. to be accounted for.

Now, firstly, the C.R. Bills for Mich. Term, 1883, amounting to £90 6s. 10d., had not been paid in: secondly, the total amount of C.R. bills for the year has been £143 7s. 2d. less than in the previous year: thirdly, there was more wine in the cellar in Dec. 1883 than in Dec. 1882, the value of which I have calculated to be £275 5s. 3d. The sum total of these items is £508 19s. 3d.

We see, then, that some of the difference, between the balance just declared and that of a year ago, may be satisfactorily accounted for.

There remains an unexplained deficit of £1 4s. 10d., which I recommend to the attention of the lynx-eyed critics at Tunbridge Wells.

3. Of Wine

Whether this subject is quite the noblest to which Time and Thought can be devoted by Man is a question I leave on one side for the moment. I, at any rate, have had to give a much larger amount of both, during this past year, than I have ever given before, or (as I hope) shall ever have to give again.

Here are a few facts, selected from my summaries for the year. Roughly speaking, we had, when the year began, 23,000 bottles in our cellar: we have added 5,000 during the year, making a total of 28,000. Of these we have consumed about 3,000, leaving 25,000 to go on with, i. e. 2,000 more than we had a year ago, the value of this addition to our stock being about £270. We have now about 700 bottles of old Port (enough for 30 years), and 11,000 ordinary (enough for 20 years). Of best Sherry, 570 (60 years); pale 1,500 (9 years); brown, 6,000 (30 years). Of best Claret, 200 (5 years); dessert Claret, 600 (1½ years): both these will be largely added to forthwith. Of other wines we have but small stocks, except Rauenthaler, of which we have 900 (enough for 11 years), and Madeira (B), the stock of which may be expected, as we shall see hereafter, to last for much longer time than any I have yet named.

The present Wine-tariff is by no means in a satisfactory state. I have given a good deal of attention to the subject, and will here present the tariff I propose to adopt, as well as by reasons for proposing it.

Before considering the actual Wine-tariff as a whole, I think it will be well to consider, in the abstract, the principles on which a Wine-tariff should be framed: and this we can do with a simple instance quite as well, perhaps even better, than with a complex one. To make my instance something like the truth, I will take old Port and Chablis. Of these our annual consumption is in the ratio of 1 to 3; and the original cost of each is about 3s. a bottle: but the present value of the old Port is about 11s. a bottle. Let us suppose, then, that we have to sell to C.R. one bottle of old Port and 3 of Chablis—the original cost of the whole being 12s., and the present value 20s. These are our data.

We have now two questions to answer. First, what sum shall we ask for the whole? Secondly, how shall we apportion that sum between the two kinds of wine?

To answer the first question, we must consider the two purposes for which we need the money: one is, to replace the wine that has been consumed with an equal amount of new wine of the same quality; the other, to meet the annual expenses which arise from the keeping of wine. For the first purpose it is obvious that the original cost of the wine is the sum required: to settle how much ought to be added to this for current expenses is a more difficult matter, but I think we may take past history as a safe guide, and assume that the addition that has been hitherto made to the original cost is fair. Now the wine consumed last year originally cost £480: its present value is £560: and we sold it for £550: so that, roughly speaking, we sell the wine as a whole for its present value—the difference between that and its original value being the sum we require to meet current expenses.

We may assume, then, in the instance before us, that we have to sell these 4 bottles of wine, as a whole, for 20s. And we have now to answer the second question—how much of this is to go for Port and how much for Chablis. We have, as so often happens in the lives of distinguished Premiers, three courses before us:—(1) to charge the present value for each kind of wine; (2) to put on a certain percentage to the original value of each kind; (3) to make a compromise between these two courses.

Course (1) seems to me perfectly reasonable; but a very plausible objection has been made to it—that it puts a prohibitory price on the valuable wines, and that they would remain unconsumed. This would not, however, involve any loss to our finances: we could obviously realise the enhanced values of the old wines by selling them to outsiders, if the members of C.R. would not buy them. But I do not advocate this course.

Course (2) would lead to charging 5s. a bottle for Port and Chablis alike. The Port-drinker would be “in clover”: while the Chablis-drinker would probably begin getting his wine direct from the merchant instead of from the C.R. cellar, which would be a “reductio ad absurdum” of the tariff. Yet I have heard this course advocated, repeatedly, as an abstract principle. “You ought to consider the original value only,” I have been told. “You ought to regard the Port-drinker as a private individual, who has laid the wine in for himself, and who ought to have all the advantages of its enhanced value. You cannot fairly ask him for more than what you need to refill the Bins with Port, plus the percentage thereon needed to meet the contingent expenses.” I have listened to such arguments, but have never been convinced that the course is just. It seems to me that the 8s. additional value, which the bottle of Port has acquired, is the property of Common Room, and that Common Room has the power to give it to whom it chooses: and it does not seem to me fair to give it all to the Port-drinker. What merit is there in preferring Port to Chablis, that could justify our selling the Port-drinker his wine at less than half what he would have to give outside, and charging the Chablis-drinker five-thirds of what he would have to give outside? At all events I, as a Port-drinker, do not wish to absorb the whole advantage, and would gladly share it with the Chablis-drinker. The course I recommend is

Course (3), which is a compromise between (1) and (2), its essential principle being to sell the new wines above their value, in order to be able to sell the old below their value. And it is clearly desirable, as far as possible, to make the reductions where they will be felt, and the additions where they will not be felt. Moreover, it seems to me that reduction is most felt where it goes down to the next round sum, and an addition in the reverse case, i. e., when it starts from a round sum. Thus, if we were to take 2d. off a 5s. 8d. wine, and add it to a 4s. 4d.—thus selling them at 5s. 6d. and 4s. 6d.—the reduction would be welcomed, and the addition unnoticed; and the change would be a popular one. This principle is especially applicable to what I regard as the most important feature of the new tariff, the change in the prices of the Port and Claret drunk at dessert. We are selling the first for 4s. 3d., which is 1s. 9. below its value, and the other for 4s. 9d., which is 4d. above its value. The annual consumption (500 and 470) is practically the same for these two wines, so that what we take off one price we may fairly put on the other. I propose to lower the first, and raise the second, to the mean value 4s. 6d., which being a round sum, comes under the rule I have laid down as to making perceptible reductions and imperceptible additions. There is also a social consideration which should have weight: it seems to me most desirable, when the cost of the wine, drunk during the evening, has to be equally divided among the drinkers, that no one should have cause to think “my neighbour is drinking a dearer wine than I: so that I am practically paying part of his bill.” Some such inequality was complained of, not long ago, by the Claret-drinkers, when the Claret was cheaper than the Port; and a similar complaint might now be made by the Port-drinkers.

The proposed tariff would have brought in the same total amount as the present one, namely £550. The principal changes are as follows:—

Ports, of all kinds, we are selling considerably under their real values. I propose to raise them all a little, but still keeping below the real values.

Dessert Claret I have discussed previously.

Champagnes and Hocks we are now selling at a profit above what we put on in other cases. I propose to reduce this. The Rauenthaler, of which we have just laid in a large supply on exceptionally favourable terms, is now becoming so popular, that I think the reduction from 3s. 4d. to 3s. (which we can well afford) will be a specially welcome one.

The other changes call for no remark, with the exception of Brandy, which we are at present selling at a profit entirely abnormal. The present price, 7s., was probably fixed by some Draconian Curator, in an age when Brandy-drinking had reached so fearful a pitch that he felt that a desperate remedy was absolutely needed.

One curious phenomenon I wish to call attention to. The consumption of Madeira (B) has been, during the past year, zero. After careful calculation, I estimate that, if this rate of consumption be steadily maintained, our present stock will last us an infinite number of years. And although there may be something monotonous and dreary in the prospect of such vast cycles spent in drinking second-class Madeira, we may yet cheer ourselves with the thought of how economically it can be done.

I have only to add that I shall be happy to receive suggestions from any member of Common Room who will take the trouble to consider the “data” of the problem and to form an opinion on the proposed tariff. And I hope thus to be able to reduce it to a form which C.R. will be prepared to accept at our next meeting.

It may be thought that this matter is one to be settled by the Wine-Committee; but I have come to the opposite conclusion. Even if C.R. intended (which is by no means clear) to include changes in the tariff among the “questions as to sending out wine”¹ which it has left to the Wine-Committee to settle, I doubt if it was meant to include changes affecting the finances of C.R. At all events, if the Wine-Committee were to vote a new tariff, which considerably reduced the annual receipts, I should refuse to adopt it: and, if I were asked by what Rule I was authorised to do so, I should point to that which enacts that “no expenditure shall be made without the concurrence of the Curator.” Such reduction would clearly be “expenditure,” and I should decline to “concur” in such a change until I had assured myself that it was approved of by C.R.

The only changes in the tariff, that I can find recorded for a good many years back, were voted on by C.R. at the annual meeting. The Wine-Committee was no doubt devised for the purpose of doing certain things previously done by the Curator alone, but “I have yet to learn” that it was meant to supersede C.R. in any of its special functions.

4. Of Liqueurs

The following Liqueurs (arranged in order of costliness) can be supplied to Members of C.R. at the prices annexed: they are all to be had in bottles, or in half-botles. But, since bottles vary as to contents, I append to each the contents in ounces, and the cost per 8-oz. vial. (N.B. These vials have objective existence as yet, but can easily be procured, if wished for.)

The three marked “a” are kept in stock, and can be had, either in half-bottles, or in a stand of three decanters, the contents of which will be measured before sending out, and on its return, and only the amount consumed will be charged for.

There are only two half-bottles of each of the others in stock: but I will procure more, if an order be given.

The asterisks indicate the degree of goodness, according to the views of a certain Member of the Wine-Committee, who, in the noblest spirit of self-sacrifice, came day after day to taste the samples: in which views I (being one whose opinion on such points is worth absolutely nothing) entirely coincide. * = “very good,” and ** = “specially recommended.”

In connection with Liqueurs, the following sentiments have been put forth:—

(1) On Nov. 12th, I issued a notice, in which, after naming Green Chartreuse, Dry Curaçoa, and Maraschino, as the only Liqueurs “kept in stock,” I added “but I will procure any others for which an order is given.”

(2) The following paper then appeared:

To the Members of C.R. The Curator has just issued a circular about Liqueurs, which is likely to be misleading. Mr. Dodgson as a private person is quite at liberty to “procure” any Liqueurs he pleases for his friends—at his own expense. But in this case the word Curator, after his signature, should be expunged. If, however, he writes officially—for the words “I will procure” read “the Wine-Committee may procure”; for the Committee, which alone has the power to “procure” Wines, etc. for C.R., has recently decided that the three kinds of Liqueurs now kept in stock are sufficient for the needs of the C.R. at present.

(3) On Nov. 23rd, I issued a notice, in which I said:

I will procure any, not at present kept in stock, for which an order is given. Such purchases, being made on behalf of individual Members of C.R., and not for the cellar, do not (as has been erroneously stated) form part of the duties of the Wine-Committee. I here append the words of the Rule in which those duties are defined. “There shall be a Wine-Committee, consisting of five persons, including the Curator, whose duty shall be to assist the Curator in the management of the cellar.”

(4) The following paper then appeared:

To The Members of Common Room

The Curator has issued another circular, dated November 23, 1883, in which he refers to a recent circular of mine in the following words:—

”Such purchases [purchases of a number of Liqueurs mentioned in a previous paragraph] being made on behalf of individual Members of Common Room, and not for the cellar, do not (as has been erroneously stated) form part of the duties of the Wine-Committee.”

The Curator thus asserts that I have “erroneously stated” that “purchases … made on behalf of individual Members of Common Room, and not for the cellar, form part of the duties of the Wine-Committee.”

I have made no such statement. I append the words of my circular, so that Members of Common Room may judge for themselves:—

“The Curator has just issued a circular about Liqueurs, which is likely to mislead. If he writes as a private person, he is, of course, at liberty to procure any Liqueurs he pleases for his friends, at his own expense; but in this case the word ‘Curator,’ after his signature, should be expunged. If he writes officially—for the words ‘I will procure’ read ‘the Wine-Committee may procure’; for the Committee (which alone has the power to procure wines for the Common Room cellar) has recently decided that the three kinds of Liqueurs now kept in stock suffice for the present needs of Common Room.”

The only statement I have made here about the duties of the Wine-Committee is, that it “alone has the power to procure wines for the Common Room cellar.” It is obvious that the sober imagination of the Curator has been morbidly excited by the presence of so large a number of unsold Liqueurs in his rooms.

If, however, I had made the statement which the Curator rashly stigmatizes as “erroneous,” it would have been quite correct. The Curator has quoted Rule 1. I will quote the two Rules which define the duties of the Committee:—

Rule 1.—“There shall be a Wine-Committee of five persons, including the Curator, whose duty shall be to assist the Curator in the management of the cellar.”

Rule 4.—“All questions relating to the selection, purchase, keeping, serving, and sending out of wines shall be decided by a majority of the Committee at a meeting.”

“The management of the cellar,” in Rule 1, is explained by Rule 4 to mean “all questions relating to the purchase, etc. of wines.” The word “cellar” is used to signify wines, etc., bought out of the funds of the Club; not merely the rooms under the Common Room, or the wines which are there or are ordered to be placed there. This, too, is the usual meaning of the word “cellar” as employed in Rule 1.

I submit, therefore, that the Curator is breaking the Rules of the Club if he uses our subscriptions in making purchases of wine, etc. “on behalf of individual members of Common Room” without the consent of the Committee “at a meeting.” Such purchases are not only illegal, but may cause serious inconvenience and even loss to the Club.

I think I have shewn then,—(1) That I have not made the statement, erroneous or otherwise, which the Curator “erroneously” attributes to me. (2) That as all purchases of wine, etc., out of the funds of the Club, are to be made only by order of the Committee, the Curator has no right to make purchases of wines, etc., “on behalf of individual members of Common Room,” if he uses the funds of the Club for that purpose.

It is hardly necessary to add that, if the Curator does not use the funds of the Club for such purchases, neither the Wine-Committee nor any one else has any right to interfere. In this case, too, the Curator will no doubt defray the expenses of printing his printing his private announcements to “individual members of Common Room” out of his own pocket.

Postscript

The following letter of the Curator, sent to me in reply to a letter of mine, remonstrating with him for ignoring the decision of Committee to purchase certain Liqueurs, will enable members of Common Room to appreciate the attitude of the new Curator towards the Wine-Committee and the Rules of the Club, and his archaic conception of government according to law.

“I am sorry you do not approve of my having altered the order for Liqueurs which was agreed on at the Wine-Committee meeting. I can assure you my simple wish is to do what is most for the interest of Common Room. (e. g. if I had ordered the 12 Green Chartreuse agreed on [unanimously], I fear it would have been wasted money, and that it would not have been consumed.) [The Curator soon overcame this fear, and found that the order of the Committee was the wisest after all,] and where what seems their interest clashes with the letter of any Rule, I take the responsibility of breaking the Rule.”

To this I replied, in substance, that the Club was the best judge of its own interests, and that it had decided unanimously that, in all matters relating to wines, the Committee as a whole should be the judge of those interests, and not the Curator, who is the Chairman of the Committee, with a veto upon expenditure, but with no other special powers.

5. Of the Wine-Committee

The Wine-Committee was a very simple organism at first—a sort of Amœba, with so brief a Code of Rules, that it was all but structureless; but, as time went on, it developed; and its Rules grew ever more complex and stringent, till they became, in the humble opinion of the present Curator, rather too tight a fit to be altogether comfortable.

I will first give the Rules, and then state the interpretation that I have, in practice, put upon them.

Rules for the Wine-Committee

[Agreed upon, Dec. 8, 1882]

1. There shall be a Wine-Committee, consisting of 5 persons, including the Curator, whose duty shall be to assist the Curator in the management of the Cellar.
2. The members of the Committee, other than the Curator, shall be elected at the annual audit.
3. A meeting of the Committee shall be held in the second week of each Term, on a day to be fixed by the Curator, who shall give notice of the meeting in the preceding week. Other meetings of the Committee may be summoned by the Curator, a week’s notice being given. The Curator shall summon a meeting of the Committee, when requested to do so by 3 members thereof.
4. All questions relating to the selection, purchase, except as hereinafter provided (see Rule 6), keeping, serving, and sending out of wines shall be decided by a majority of the Committee at a meeting.
5. No business shall be transacted unless at least 3 members of the Committee shall be present, of whom the Curator shall be one.
6. No expenditure of money shall be made by the Committee without the concurrence of the Curator.

If I were as willing, as I am unwilling, to carry out this stringent Code with literal exactness, I doubt if I should find it possible to do so. If, for example, a “question” should arise during dessert as to ordering in another bottle of wine, am I to summon a meeting, giving “a week’s notice,” to settle it? As a matter of fact, though obedient to the spirit of these Rules (as I interpret them), I have repeatedly broken the clauses italicised, so far as the letter of them is concerned. I will first give my interpretation of them, and then enumerate the various ways in which I have broken them as they stand.

In Rule 3, for “in the second week of each Term” I read “when necessary”: for “shall give notice in the preceding week” I read “shall give due notice”: and for “a week’s notice” I read “due notice.”

In Rule 4, for “All questions” I read “All important questions.” (See Appendix A.)

In Rule 5, for “No business” I read “No important business”: and for “at least 3 members” I read “at least 2 members.” Had I observed this Rule literally, very little of the business of the past year could have been done at all. (See Appendix A.)

Thus it appears that I have broken every portion of the Code which it was possible for me to break by myself: the excepted portion being the last clause of Rule 5. But here, just as it began to seem inevitable that this portion of the Rule would survive unbroken, my friends the Members of the Committee gallantly came to the rescue. On Friday, Nov. 9, three Members of the Wine-Committee assembled themselves together, the Curator not being present, and what was then done has been repeatedly referred to by them, as business transacted at a real Meeting.

Does the reader expect to learn that I resented this unconstitutional conduct on the part of the Committee? Not I! I was a very lamb on the occasion—a sucking dove. Whether or not I laughed in my sleeve is another question, which I do not at present enter on further than to remark that the sleeve of the M.A. gown is peculiarly adapted for that purpose, the quadrantal excavation at the lower corner being apparently exactly fitted for concealing a mouth when on the broad grin.

While on the subject of these Rules, I may venture to call attention (though in such guarded language as not to criminate myself) to Rule 1, which states that the duty of the Committee, “including the Curator” shall be “to assist the Curator.” Hence, logically, it is the bounden duty of the Curator “to assist himself.” I decline to say whether this clause has ever brightened existence for me—or whether, in the shades of evening, I may ever have been observed leaving the C.R. cellars with a small but suspicious-looking bundle, and murmuring “assist thyself, assist thyself!”

Perhaps the most interesting feature in the career of the Committee has been its gentle fading away in dimensions—“fine by degrees, and beautifully less.”

Tune: “Ten Little Niggers.”

And I find, by the records of the business transacted during the year, that much of it was done with only this very limited number of Members present besides the Curator.

The reader may perhaps expect, as the outcome of all this, a suggestion that the Committee should be abolished: but this I am by no means anxious for. It would be possible, I have little doubt, to carry on the business without a Committee (in fact, it has actually been done in past years): but the existence of a Committee is satisfactory to the C.R., and so long as that is so, and so long as my interpretation of the Rules is accepted, and I may feel assured that I am not (as has been suggested) reduced to a simple member of the Wine-Committee, I think we may work together very well.

One other matter, connected with the Committee, remains for notice. It has been sometimes suggested that it would be well to get our wines from co-operative stores instead of from the merchants who have for so many years, and so well, supplied us. This, by the letter of the Rules, is a step which is within the power of the Committee to vote. I may as well distinctly state that I should disregard such a vote. I hold that, even if we could get equally good wine, cheaper, from co-operative stores, we ought not to do it; this may raise a smile among those who hold that our own interests are the only safe guides: but I have noticed that some, who fail to see that we have some duties towards our tradesmen, quite recover their keenness of vision when considering their duties towards us. Still, as nothing I could say would convince such persons, and as others need no argument, I need only say that, so long as I have the honour of being Curator, I shall not leave any tradesman who has served us long and well, without a much better reason than a mere saving of a few pounds.

Secondly, I hold that in buying wine we must trust largely to the skill and honesty of the merchant: and which gives the best guarantee for these—the experienced merchant, who has a character to lose, and to whom an old customer is the best of recommendations, or a new company, to whom we are No. 666?

Thirdly, I gravely doubt much that I hear of the cheapness of Stores, and the excellence of their wines. Let me quote “From Vineyards to Decanter,” a little book about Sherry, published in 1876.

It exists as a unique characteristic of the wine trade that capital and connection are considered sufficient qualification without technical education or training. Now a man cannot practise at the bar without being duly called, or act as solicitor without having served his articles; he cannot practise as a doctor without walking the hospitals and passing certain examinations; he cannot become a civil engineer without serving a regular apprenticeship; to become a tea-broker he must be trained in tea-tasting; and should he untrained undertake any of these positions, his ignorance would shortly be his ruin. But what proficiency is wanted to qualify a wine merchant? A gentleman of good connection with money and time at command, if wishing to augment his income, would seem naturally to cast about him for a berth in the wine trade, without thinking that absence of technical education is in any way a disqualification; and if an opportunity offers, he fearlessly assumes the direction of a business. He thinks himself qualified to cater for others, because, forsooth, he likes a glass of wine as well as any of them! Possibly he may have gained the reputation of being a first-rate judge amongst his friends by roundly stating at dinner that the wine he is drinking is of this or that vintage, and is worth exactly so many shillings per dozen; which priggish opinion was perchance arrived at, when he had just eaten mullingatawny soup, cayenne pepper, or preserved ginger. Under such circumstances a man who had spent his life in the trade would not hazard an opinion; and till he had tested the wines in question by careful tasting and comparison, he would probably mistrust his judgement.

Knowledge in this does not differ from any other kind of knowledge, in that the more a man knows the more he feels he has to learn; and a little reflection will show, that as much time and even more arduous application are necessary in the education of a wine merchant than are wanted in many other trades. A knowledge of general business, office details, &c., must be acquired, added to which there is cellar management, only to be learnt by practice; so that if a cellarman does not thoroughly know his work, his master can teach him. Lastly, the palate has to be educated in tasting, a work which, if done satisfactorily, must be commenced at the very rudiments: after these have been mastered, it is only by continued perseverence that the faculty is acquired of detecting the more subtle distinctions.² In the case of those who become wine merchants per saltum this gradual education is never attempted. “Blood is thicker than water,” they say; and pinning their faith upon the maxim, gentlemen go into the trade relying wholly upon their standing and connection.

I think, however, that the reductio ad absurdum of trading is to be found in the wine departments of co-operative stores which deal in miscellaneous goods. I tried sherry from a store where sales in general goods reach a total of hundreds of thousands per annum, and whose business in wine alone is such as would rival and perhaps surpass that of any London wine merchant. In order to test their value by comparison, I obtained samples, through a friend, of Sherries between 30s. and 48s. per dozen, from Messrs. Christopher and Co., Messrs. German and Co., and Messrs. John and Charles White. I did not find any advantage in the wines from the General Stores; on the contrary, I thought that the private traders gave better value for the price. Mistrusting my own judgement, I classified all the wines according to their price under three heads, and sending samples, with marks of my own, to two reliable members of the trade, I asked their opinion upon each class after having tested the wines by blind tasting. The following is the result:

In Class I., Mr. A. places the Society’s sherry fourth on the list, Mr. B., third.

In Class II., both Mr. A. and Mr. B. placed the Society’s wine third.

In Class III., Mr. A. placed the wine from the stores fourth, and Mr. B., third.

Besides these three Classes, I found quoted in the Company’s list as an Amontillado a wine which seemed to me in no way to resemble what is known in the Spanish trade under than name, and this I marked “Amontillado.” In their report the two professionals stated that they could not find the least trace of amontillado in the blend!

Now consider the advantages at which the great co-operative societies trade. They derive an income of some thousands a year from ticket-money, though at no expense for delivery. Bad debts are impossible; and prepayment produces cash so readily as to present the unheard-of marvel of trade safely conducted without capital. Nevertheless, at this particular Store it is evident that the sherry is sold at higher rates than would be charged by a first-class wine merchant; obviously because the committees of management have had no more technical training than our per saltum friend when taking his fearless leap, and the departmental managers are not of calibre to supply the lack. There exists, indeed, another alternative. Can it be that wines are sold at a profit sufficient to cover losses made in the other departments?

Here are a few of the questions which are put from time to time, showing the confused ideas existing in the public mind, as well as amongst wine merchants.

Is not the colouring of sherry given by brown sugar and treacle?

How is it that so pale a wine can have so much brandy in it? thinking the spirit used to be coloured, just like the Cognac commonly drunk.

What is the exact age of this sherry?

What vintage is it?

Can this wine be pure, as it has a sediment?

Of ordinary sherry—is this a natural wine?

One of the above questions—“What is the exact age of this sherry?”—has been actually put to me, with reference to our wine-tariff. Of course all I can give in reply is the date when it was bought and (presumably) bottled: “exact age” it does not possess.

6. Of Chalybeate Waters

It is not the happy lot of every Curator to be criticised, not only by resident members of the C.R., but also by distant correspondents. I have received, during this past year, a long series of letters from one writer, of a highly critical—not to say hostile—tendency. These have been fired off at me with a monotonous regularity, having all the persistency—without the pathos—of minute-guns. The writer’s name I think it best to suppress: but some of my readers will perhaps surmise it, when I tell them that he was a Member of the House (and, I believe, of C.R.) till the end of 1879, and that he is now residing not a hundered miles from Tunbridge Wells.

How he has possessed himself, as he evidently has, of the minutest details of what is done and said by the Members of the Wine-Committee, both individually and collectively, I will not stop to enquire: and whether the officials in the Tunbridge Wells Post-Office have struck, or are likely to strike, for an increase in salary, is another question I must leave on one side: in a pamphlet such as this, an exhaustive treatment of all subjects of human interest is plainly impossible.

Let me cull a few rosebuds from the rich garden of fancy, of which this series of letters are the beds and borders:—

“Is there any object or advantage gained by violating the plain Rules under which the Committee was elected to manage the C.R. cellars?” (Ans. Yes.)

“You know perfectly well that you had no power whatever to buy these Liqueurs” (I had ordered a few pounds worth on my own responsibility), “and that you are acting against the express wishes of those who elected you in doing so.”

“The Rules were expressly framed with a view of preventing the Curator from buying Wines, &c. of his own motion.”

“You have no more right than any other member of the Committee to purchase Wines, &c. for the C.R. cellar.”

“What is the use of the Wine-Committee, if you are free totally to ignore their wishes and orders?” (Ans. I do not know.)

“The C.R.” (in accepting the Rules) “deliberately reduced the Curator to a simple member of the Wine-Committee for all purposes of ordering Wine, &c.”

“I quite understand your dislike to novelties of this kind” (the abandoning our old tradesmen and dealing with co-operative stores), “and although I don’t in the least agree with you in thinking it to be a gain to any one to support the system of middlemen’s profits, I am not surprised that those who have so long been accustomed to pay them should wish to do so still.”

In the last letter from which I shall quote, after mentioning that a “friend” of mine had said that men of my standing “cannot govern constitutionally,” he adds “well, we must aid them as far as we can.” These letters are, I suppose, meant to “aid” me: but I feel inclined to say, with the man who was “aided” by an officious bull in surmounting a fence, “you have ideed assisted me: yet it was not precisely the form of assistance I most desired!”

What most amuses me in this series of projectiles is the novel view it gives me of my position as Curator. I had been weak enough to picture myself to myself as a well-worked and slightly worried individual, trying, to the best of his poor judgment, to do his duty by the friends who had entrusted their Common Room to his care—acknowledging responsibility to those friends as a body, but most certainly not to single members of that body, still less to outside-critics—and behold, I find I am a dark conspirator, going about in cloak and domino, with daggers and detonators, and withal liable to be put in the dock and lectured by any soi-disant judge that chooses to don the wig and gown! All this is, as Tennyson says “sweet and strange to me.”

7. A Vision Of The Future

It was 1983, and the new Curator was in an awful dilemma. True, he had come out of his last difficulty with flying colours. Only a month ago, passing the Common Room one afternoon, he had noticed the cellar door open, and strolling in had found two shabbily-dressed men filling a coal-sack with bottles of old Port. They had declined to explain their motives, and had left hastily. But the Curator had been true to his duty. “It is a question of keeping wine,” he had said to himself, “and can only be decided by a majority of the Wine-Committee at a duly-summoned meeting.” So he had called a meeting for that day week: and, when they met, no one knew exactly where to find the men. “I feared we should lose the wine,” he told the Committee: “but I do not think I am justified in breaking the rules made by Common Room on any pretext whatever!” The Committee applauded as nine tailors.

And now, within the last few days, the Common Room, ever anxious to oblige their Curator in all things, had devised a new Code of Rules, which fitted him to a T, like a new pair of handcuffs—a Code of Rules which, as they fondly hoped, he would welcome as something really striking and stringent.

This was the Code:—

Rules for the Wise-Committee

“1. There shall be a Wise-Committee consisting of one person, excluding the Curator, whose duty shall be to assist the Common Room in the managing of the Curator.

“2. The member of the Committee shall be self-elected.

“3. A meeting of the Committee shall be held on every day in each Term.

“4. All questions relating to the obedience, or disobedience, of the Curator, to the Rules of the Wine-Committee, shall be decided by a majority of the Wise-Committee at a meeting.

“5. No business shall be transacted, unless at least one member of the Committee be present.

“6. Nothing shall be done, or left undone, by the Curator without the concurrence of the Committee. And, if the Curator shall complain of cold, it shall be the duty of the Committee to make things warm for him.”

After this Code had passed into law, the members of the Common Room went about with elastic steps, and hearts bursting with joy and thankfulness. “The wild beast is caged at last!” they were always saying to each other, shaking hands whenever they met. The Curator appeared to be less entirely at his ease. His walk was suggestive of Tight Boots, his countenance of Toothache, while his general deportment was that of a man whose system has been demoralised by too much Tea.

About this time also the following song became popular among the little boys:—

(Spoken.) “I took him to the sign of Tom Tower, and fed him with the Tallest of Talk. My name is τις, and I live at Tunbridge Wells.”

All this was very cheerful, but a new difficulty had arisen, and the Curator was distracted. An old member of the Common Room had just come to Oxford, who always took pale brandy and soda at dinner, and there was nothing but brown in the cellar. “What am I to do?” groaned the agonised Curator. “It will take 8 days to get a Committee-meeting to settle from what merchant to get samples—4 days to get the samples—8 days more to get a meeting to select the brandy and fix the price to put on it—and 4 days to get it. That is over 3 weeks, and the poor old man only stays a fortnight!” Beads of perspiration trickled down his manly forehead. After some hours of anxious thought, he nerved himself for a truly desperate step: he ordered a bottle of pale brandy on his own responsibility! And forthwith came a letter from Tunbridge Wells. “What! you’re at it again, are you? For ever trampling on the liberties of Common Room, and conspiring against the Constitution! What’s the good of the Wine-Committee? What’s the use of my anathematising you twice a week by post, and doing my best to make your life a burden? What’s the good of anything? And you pretend to be a constitutional Curator? Yah, you Cockatrice!”

I don’t quite know what became of that guilty Curator. I believe he fled to other climes; and they elected a new one: and Common Room was once more supposed to be governed on constitutional principles: and no hitch occurred—till the next time.

8. Of the Transactions of the Year.

Transactions are of two kinds, those done and those not done: we will take the former first.

(1) The Ledgers have cost me a great deal of time and trouble. But the saving of time and trouble, in the future, will I hope more than balance this. It appeared necessary to construct a new set, and this I did not find possible without many experiments, many failures, and I fear much cost in printing. It is not possible here to give any intelligible account of them: but if any Member of C.R. feels any interest in the subject, I shall be happy to show him what has been done.

(2) The Coal-cellar, as I found it, was a small recess on the way down into the Wine-cellar. To the Common Room it supplied coals for a few days’ consumption: to those visiting the Wine-cellar it supplied an area of coal-dust, an inch deep, through which it was necessary to tread. I have had one constructed, out in the garden, which will hold a year’s supply.

(3) The book-shelves, which were insufficient, I have added to by shelving the lobby at the entrance to C.R.

(4) In order that Members might be able readily to refer to back numbers of our daily papers, I have had portfolios made, each holding a fortnight’s supply of one paper.

(5) I have had new tiles put to the fire-place, and have covered the blank wall above the wainscoting with one of Morris’s rich papers.

(6) At the request of some of the Members, I have instituted (experimentally) “5 o’clock tea,” from 4.30 to 5.30, in C.R. There are certain financial questions, connected with this, which I shall submit to C.R. at the meeting.

I proceed to the second part of my subject—transactions not done.

(1) The re-organisation of the electric bell, which was originally presented to C.R., in 1870, by Mr. R. H. M. Bosanquet.

In the record of meetings of C.R., under date Nov. 30, 1874, I find the following entry:—

“Agreed that the electric bell, with the wires, reaching to the Curator’s chair, be put in order after having been destroyed two years ago by Mr. S. Owen. Mr. Baynes, Lee’s Reader in Physics, arranged this.”

Nine years have elapsed since this record was made, but the kind of feeling, which prompted the offer of Mr. Baynes, is as strong as ever. There can be no doubt that he will be as good as his word, and that the wires will be put in order.

(2) There have been many other things not done during the year: but I will not further tax the patience of my reader.

9. Last Words.

Holding, as I do, that many of the woes of life not only have a comic side but are often best viewed from that side, I have written, so far, more as a Laughing than as a Crying Philsopher: but it is necessary to make a few serious remarks in conclusion.

It would be hard to put into words the extreme reluctance with which I took this office at the end of 1882. Had I simply consulted my own personal inclinations and interests, I should have declined it, absolutely and inexorably. I want leisure-time, for purposes of my own, very much indeed: and during this past year I have had to give most of my working hours to the duties of my new office. The new ledgers, entailing as they did the keeping of the accounts, during a considerable part of the time, with my own hand, have cost me a great deal of very hard work. I do not doubt for a moment that others would have done the same thing better, and with less work: but that does not mend matters for me. Even the correspondence has been no small tax on my time and attention. I see by my register that I have written and received, during the year, about 800 letters on Common Room business alone. If I could have foreseen the work of the year, I doubt very much if I should have undertaken it: and if I thought that next year would bring the same amount, I should feel it absolutely out of the question to go on: but I do not anticipate this; now that the new ledgers are completed, I think the work will not be more than I can undertake, if Common Room wishes me to go on, while securing a reasonable amount of time for my own occupations.

But before entering on another year of office, I must come to a clear understanding on the subject of the Wine-Committee; and, in order to leave Common Room perfectly free to settle the matter to its own satisfaction, I intend, at the meeting on Shrove Tuesday, when the other business has been disposed of, to resign my office and retire from the meeting. There will then be three courses open to Common Room.

(1) To elect another Curator, without reference to any question connected with the Wine-Committee. This is the result that, personally, I desire most of all: the relief to myself would be most welcome; and if any other Curator can be found, whom Common Room would be satisfied to elect, I earnestly hope that he may be elected.

(2) To re-elect me, on the distinct understanding that I shall accept such re-election as signifying that Common Room endorses the interpretation I have put upon the Rules of the Wine-Committee, and is willing to trust me with the same amount of discretionary power in the future which I have assumed to myself in the past. I wish here to state most respectfully, but most distinctly, that I will not take office again on any other conditions. Hard work is good for every one, and I enjoy it: all I ask is to be spared from worry (which is to me far more exhausting and crushing than any amount of work), and from the liability of being taken to task by individual critics for not literally obeying the Rules of the Wine-Committee.

(3) If, however, Common Room wishes to endorse the statement of my Tunbridge Wells correspondent, that, in passing those Rules, they “deliberately reduced the Curator to a simple member of the Wine-Committee for all purposes of ordering Wine, &c.”—if, in a word, they wish to have a mechanical Curator, who will carry out their Rules, under all circumstances, with the unreasoning precision of an automaton—then it will be necessary to find some one else to take the office. They may find such a Curator, but it is doubtful whether, after a few months’ experience of such an environment, he would find existence easily distinguishable from a mustard-plaster.

I leave the matter in the hands of Common Room. If they can find another Curator, generally acceptable, I shall sincerely rejoice. If not, I will put personal feelings aside and resume office: and, when once assured that my “conceptions of government according to the law,” however “archaic,” are endorsed by C.R., I shall bear with equanimity all other criticism; and even the shower of missiles—I mean missives—from Tunbridge Wells will be to me “like a tale of little meaning, though the words are strong.”

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