essionally a mathematician,
though few readers of "the Alice books" knew it. And his name, of course,
was Charles L. Dodgson, and he wrote mathematical treatises. To the time
of his death--he was born in 1832 and died in 1898--his readers hoped for
more volumes like "Alice in Wonderland" or "The Hunting of the Snark," but
Mr. Dodgson's literary output was small. The May _Harper's_ reprints a
hitherto unpublished paper from his pen, on "Feeding the Mind," in which
he says:

Breakfast, dinner, tea; in extreme cases, breakfast,
luncheon, dinner, tea, supper, and a glass of something hot
at bedtime. What care we take about feeding the lucky body!
Which of us does as much for his mind? And what causes the
difference? Is the body so much the more important of the
two?

By no means; but life depends on the body being fed, whereas
we can continue to exist as animals (scarcely as men) though
the mind be utterly starved and neglected. Therefore, Nature
provides that in case of serious neglect of the body such
terrible consequences of discomfort and pain shall ensue as
will soon bring us back to a sense of our duty; and some of
the functions necessary to life she does for us altogether,
leaving us no choice in the matter.

It would fare but ill with many of us if we were left to
superintend our own digestion and circulation. "Bless me!"
one would cry, "I forgot to wind up my heart this morning!
To think that it has been standing still for the last three
hours!" "I can't walk with you this afternoon," a friend
would say, "as I have no less than eleven dinners to digest.
I had to let them stand over from last week, being so
busy--and my doctor says he will not answer for the
consequences if I wait any longer!"

Well it is, I say, for us that the consequences of
neglecting the body can be clearly seen and felt; and it
might be well for some if the mind were equally visible and
tangible--if we could take it, say, to the doctor and have
its pulse felt.

"Why, what have you been doing with this mind lately? How
have you fed it? It looks pale, and the pulse is very slow."

"Well, doctor, it has not had much regular food lately. I
gave it a lot of sugar-plums yesterday."

"Sugar-plums! What kind?"

"Well, they were a parcel of conundrums, sir."

"Ah! I thought so. Now just mind this: if