SYLVIE AND BRUNO.* .

THE author whose nom. de plume is "Lewis Carroll" is in the practically unique position of having written a sequel which was quite as good as—if, indeed, not better than the original. Between Alice Through the Looking-Glass and Alice in Wonderland it is hardly possible to make a choice,

both are so super-excellent in the realms of nonsense and topsy-turvy. Yet, in spite of an achievement so remarkable, Mr. Lewis Carroll has failed in his attempt to produce a third

work which can be put on a level with his first volume and its continuation. We have had plenty of Singlespeech Ha.miltons in literature before, but a two-book author is almost a hums

literarum.

Sylvie ancl Bruno, judged by the very high standard which

Mr. Lewis Carroll's previous work forces us to apply to his performance, is unquestionably a failure. True, there are a hundred things which remind us of what the volume might have been, but placed as they are, they bring little but a

sense of regret and disappointment. If we may be allowed Wordsworth's phrase, the wiser mind mourns in Sylvie and Bruno less for what is not to be found there, than for what is left behind. Unfortunately, the author often replaces his former joyous outpourings from wells of nonsense undefiled, by matter

of very serious import—matter which would come under Charles Lamb's translation of Coleridge's motto, "Things proper for a sermon." Disquisitions on the cruelty of hunting, and the raising and satisfying of doubts as to the Christian religion, are surely out of place in a record of Fairyland. Neither they nor the delicate and iridescent fooling which surrounds them gain by juxtaposition. Nor is this less true of the tedious and unsatisfactory grown-up love-story which is interwoven with the tale of the elf-children and of all the strange characters of Outland. If Mr. Lewis Carroll could be per- suaded to cut out all the extremely self-conscious moral and religious reflections ; all the stuff about the " I " of the narra- tive, except where it is necessary for the machinery of the tale ; all the love-making that centres round the Earl's daughter ; and, in fact, everything that he has made happen in the ordinary world; and were to leave only the pleasant residuum of inspired inconsequence, he would very greatly improve his book, and would make it in some sense worthy to rank with his former efforts. Doubtless even then we should be obliged to say, "The second temple is not like the first," but at any rate we should have a very pleasant addition to the literature of the inverted mind.

After having made so much of moan over what might have been, we will utter no other word of complaint, but will merely

attempt to introduce our readers to a few of the best of the good things in Sylvie and Bruno. Of these, the "Mad Gar-

dener's Song" must be named first, because it carries us back to such delightful rhymes as " The Walrus and the Carpenter," "You are old, father William," and "A-sitting on a gate."

The present lyrical effusion is scattered up and down the book, and not presented in one inconsecutive whole, for the Mad

Gardener carols forth his snatches of song much as does Ophelia. Since, however, they are never a propos of any-

thing in particular, we shall venture to collect them all together, in order that our readers may verify our declaration that they are almost worthy to stand by the side of the song the White Knight sang to Alice in the realms of the Looking- Glass :—

" He thought he saw an Elephant, That practised on a fife :

He looked again, and found it was A letter from his wife.

'At length I realise,' he said, The bitterness of Life l' He thought he saw a Buffalo Upon the chimney-piece : He looked again, and found it was His Sister's Husband's Niece. 'Unless you leave this house,' he said, I'll send for the Police !'

He thought he saw a Rattlesnake That questioned him in Greek : He looked again, and found it was The middle of Next Week.

The one thing I regret,' he said, Is that it cannot speak !'

He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk Descending from the bus :

• Sylrie and Bruno. By Lewis Carroll. With 46 Illustrations by Harry Furniss. London: Macmillan and Co. 1889.

He looked again, and found it was A Hippopotamus : If this should stay to dine,' he said, •• There won't be much for us ! '

He thought he saw a Kangaroo That worked a coffee-mill : He looked again, and found it was I Vegetable-Pill.

Were I to swallow this,' he said, • should be very ill!'

He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four That stood beside his bed : He looked again, and found it was A. Bear without a Head.

'Poor thing,' he said, poor silly thing !

It's waiting to be fed !'

He thought he saw an Albatross That fluttered round the lamp : He looked again, and found it was A Penny-Postage-Stamp.

You'd best be getting home,' he said : • The nights are very damp !' "

Here we have at its beat that dexterous mixture of irrele- vance of thought and conventionality and commonplaceness of phrase upon which Mr. Lewis Carroll has always so greatly relied to evoke the spirit of laughter. The aptitude for seeing the potential fun in some homely and well-worn sentence such as "The bitterness of life," "I should be very ill," or "There won't be much for us," though astonishingly acute in Mr. Lewis Carroll is not, however, confined to him. Mr. Gilbert possesses it in a marked degree, as is shown by hundreds of instances in his operas. Again and again, his best hits have been produced by suddenly turning the limelight of humour full upon some banal and every-day expression, out of which all sense and meaning has been worn by constant repetition. "Hardly ever," "It sometimes is a convenient thing," "All very agreeable girls," or "They usually objected," will occur to every reader's mind. But Lewis Carroll excels every other humorist in his power of matching his common- place propositions with some extravagant and fantastic image. For example, the manner in which the laugh is compounded in the rhyme about the Banker's clerk is alike beyond praise or imitation.

The story of the nonsense-part of Sylvie and Bruno—the only part we care to dwell on—is simple enough. Practically it consists of the doings of a little elf-boy and girl—the Sylph and the Brownie—the son and daughter of the Warden of Outland, afterwards promoted to be King of Fairyland. The conspiracy hatched by the wicked Vice-Warden, his wife, and the Chancellor, the odd doings of the two old Professors, and the children's wanderings in Dogland, are some of the more amusing incidents, and over all is a pervading atmosphere of topsy-turveydom. Though not the funniest, one of the most fascinating episodes in the book is "The Frog's Birthday Treat," to which we must specially direct the attention of our readers. Before taking leave of Sylvie and Bruno, we must say a word as to Mr. Furrtiss's drawings. Those which have to do with things strange, unreal, and fantastic, are excellent and full of spirit and humour, except only that Sylvie is a little too like a ballet-girl. As to those in which the ordinary human element predominates, we cannot help expressing a less favourable opinion. "Easy, vulgar, and therefore dis- gusting," was an infamously bad criticism of Lyeidas, and would doubtless be far too strong a judgment to apply to Mr. Furniss's attempts at grace and beauty. Still, there is un- deniably in his efforts to portray subjects other than the purely grotesque, an element which suggests the famous phrase just quoted. Possibly, however, a fairer criticism would be conveyed in the words applied by a modern poet to the statesman whom Mr. Furniss has so constantly and so ably caricatured :— "Such wit, such humour, and such lively force, The whole so clever—must we add, so coarse ? " Though in no way coarse in the worst sense of the word, those of the drawings that are meant to be pretty are devoid of all true delicacy or refinement of feeling.