It was a book with a definite purpose; it
would be more true to say with several definite purposes. For this
very reason it is not an artistic triumph as the two "Alice" books
undoubtedly are; it is on a lower literary level, there is no unity in
the story. But from a higher standpoint, that of the Christian and the
philanthropist, the book is the best thing he ever wrote. It is a
noble effort to uphold the right, or what he thought to be the right,
without fear of contempt or unpopularity. The influence which his
earlier books had given him he was determined to use in asserting
neglected truths.

[Illustration: The Late Duke of Albany. _From a photograph
by Lewis Carroll._]

Of course the story has other features, delightful nonsense not
surpassed by anything in "Wonderland," childish prattle with all the
charm of reality about it, and pictures which may fairly be said to
rival those of Sir John Tenniel. Had these been all, the book would
have been a great success. As things are, there are probably hundreds
of readers who have been scared by the religious arguments and
political discussions which make up a large part of it, and who have
never discovered that Sylvie is just as entrancing a personage as
Alice when you get to know her.

Perhaps the sentiment of the following poem, sent to Lewis Carroll by
an anonymous correspondent, may also explain why some of "Alice's"
lovers have given "Sylvie" a less warm welcome:--

TO SYLVIE.

Ah! Sylvie, winsome, wise and good!
Fain would I love thee as I should.
But, to tell the truth, my dear,--
And Sylvie loves the truth to hear,--
Though fair and pure and sweet thou art,
Thine elder sister has my heart!
I gave it her long, long ago
To have and hold; and well I know,
Brave Lady Sylvie, thou wouldst scorn
To accept a heart foresworn.

Lovers thou wilt have enow
Under many a greening bough--
Lovers yet unborn galore,
Like Alice all the wide world o'er;
But, darling, I am now too old
To change. And though I still shall hold
Thee, and that puckling sprite, thy brother,
Dear, I cannot _love_ another:
In this heart of mine I own
_She_ must ever reign alone!

_March_, 1890.

N.P.

I do not know N.P.'s name and address, or I should have asked leave
before giving publicity to the above verses. If these words meet his
eye, I hope he