of the College.  The Canons, in a vague kind of way, are supposed to control the College.”  The Senior Students “dare not call their souls their own,” and yet somehow dare “to vent their wrath” on the Junior Students.  His hazy, mental picture of the position of the Canons may be cleared up by explaining to him that the “control” they exercise is neither more nor less than that of any other six members of the Governing Body.  The description of the Students I pass over as not admitting any appeal to actual facts.

The truth is that Christ Church stands convicted of two unpardonable crimes—­being great, and having a name.  Such a place must always expect to find itself “a wide mark for scorn and jeers”—­a target where the little and the nameless may display their skill.  Only the other day an M.P., rising to ask a question about Westminster School, went on to speak of Christ Church, and wound up with a fierce attack on the ancient House.  Shall we blame him?  Do we blame the wanton schoolboy, with a pebble in his hand, all powerless to resist the alluring vastness of a barndoor?

The essence of the article seems to be summed up in the following sentence:  “At Christ Church all attempts to preserve order by the usual means have hitherto proved uniformly unsuccessful, and apparently remain equally fruitless.”  It is hard for one who, like myself, has lived here most of his life, to believe that this is seriously intended as a description of the place.  However, as general statements can only be met by general statements, permit me, as one who has lived here for thirty years and has taught for five-and-twenty, to say that in my experience order has been the rule, disorder the rare exception, and that, if the writer of your leading article has had an equal amount of experience in any similar place of education, and has found a set of young men more gentlemanly, more orderly, and more pleasant in every way to deal with, than I have found here, I cannot but think him an exceptionally favoured mortal.—­Yours, &c.

    Charles L. Dodgson,

    Student and Mathematical Lecturer of Christ Church.

In July began an amusing correspondence between Mr. Dodgson and a “circle-squarer,” which lasted several months.  Mr. Dodgson sent the infatuated person, whom we will call Mr. B—­, a proof that the area of a circle is less than 3.15 the square of the radius.  Mr. B—­replied, “Your proof is not in accordance with Euclid, it assumes that a circle may be considered as a rectangle, and that two right lines can enclose a space.”  He returned the proof, saying that he could not accept any of it as elucidating the exact area of a circle, or as Euclidean.  As Mr. Dodgson’s method involved a slight knowledge of trigonometry, and he had reason to suspect that Mr. B—­was entirely ignorant of that subject, he thought it worth while to put him to the test by asking him a few questions