{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_33689/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_33689","id":"gutenberg_33689","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/33689","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Art","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Wilde, Oscar, 1854-1900. Picture of Dorian Gray"],"text":"OSCAR WILDE\n\nART and MORALITY\n\nA Defence of \"The Picture of Dorian Gray\"\n\nEdited by STUART MASON\n\n\n_What the public calls an unhealthy novel is always a beautiful and\nhealthy work of art._\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLondon: J. Jacobs, Edgware Road, W.\n1908.\n\n\n\nThe Editor wishes to express his indebtedness to the proprietors of the\nvarious journals from which the reviews contained in this volume are\nre-produced. In some instances he has not been able to trace the owner\nof the copyright, owing to the journal having changed hands or become\nextinct, and if he has infringed in any case he trusts that this\nacknowledgment will be accepted.\n\nThe copyright of the eight letters by Oscar Wilde is the property of his\nliterary executor, with whose permission they are included in this book.\n\nSTUART MASON.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\nA STUDY IN PUPPYDOM\nMR. WILDE'S BAD CASE (LETTER I.)\nMR. OSCAR WILDE AGAIN (LETTER II.)\nMR. OSCAR WILDE'S DEFENCE (LETTER III.)\nLETTER FROM \"A LONDON EDITOR\"\nMR. OSCAR WILDE'S DEFENCE (LETTER IV.)\n\"THE DAILY CHRONICLE\" ON \"DORIAN GRAY\"\nOSCAR WILDE'S REPLY (LETTER V.)\n\"THE SCOTS OBSERVER'S\" REVIEW\nOSCAR WILDE'S REPLIES\n  (LETTER VI.)\n  (LETTER VII.)\n  (LETTER VIII.)\nPROFUSE AND PERFERVID\nA SPIRITUALISTIC REVIEW\n\"PUNCH\" ON \"DORIAN GRAY\"\nA REVULSION FROM REALISM\nTHE ROMANCE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE\nWALTER PATER ON \"DORIAN GRAY\"\n\"THE ATH\u00c6NEUM\" ON \"DORIAN GRAY\"\nTHE MORALITY OF \"DORIAN GRAY\"\nMR ROBERT BUCHANAN ON PAGAN VICIOUSNESS\nCOMPARATIVE TABLE OF CHAPTERS\nPASSAGES WHICH APPEAR IN THE 1890 EDITION ONLY\nBIBLIOGRAPHY\n    ORIGINAL EDITIONS\n    UNAUTHORISED EDITIONS\n    TRANSLATIONS\n        DUTCH\n        FRENCH\n        GERMAN\n        ITALIAN\n        POLISH\n        RUSSIAN\n        SWEDISH\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_On the whole, an artist in England gains something by being attacked.\nHis individuality is intensified. He becomes more completely himself. Of\ncourse, the attacks are very gross, very impertinent, and very\ncontemptible. But then no artist expects grace from the vulgar mind, or\nstyle from the suburban intellect._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nART AND MORALITY\n\n\n\"Why do you always write poetry? Why do you not write prose? Prose is so\nmuch more difficult.\"\n\nThese were the words of Walter Pater to Oscar Wilde on the occasion of\ntheir first meeting during the latter's undergraduate days at Oxford.[1]\nThose were \"days of lyrical ardours and of studious sonnet-writing,\"\nwrote Wilde, in reviewing one of Pater's books some years later,[2]\n\"days when one loved the exquisite intricacy and musical repetitions of\nthe ballade, and the vilanelle with its linked long-drawn echoes and its\ncurious completeness; days when one solemnly sought to discover the\nproper temper in which a triolet should be written; delightful days, in\nwhich, I am glad to say, there was far more rhyme than reason.\"\n\nOscar Wilde was never a voluminous writer--\"writing bores me so,\" he\nonce said to Andr\u00e9 Gide--and at the time of which he speaks he had\npublished little except some occasional verses in his University\nmagazines. Then, in 1881, came his volume of collected poems, followed\nat intervals during the next nine or ten years by a collection of fairy\nstories and some essays in the leading reviews.\n\n\"I did not quite understand what Mr. Pater meant,\" he continues, \"and it\nwas not till I had carefully studied his beautiful and suggestive essays\non the Renaissance that I fully realised what a wonderful self-conscious\nart the art of English prose-writing really is, or may be made to be.\"\n\nIt has been suggested that it was his late apprenticeship to an art that\nrequires life-long study which rendered Wilde's prose so insincere,\nresembling more the conscious artifice of the modern French school than\nthe restrained, yet jewelled style of Pater, whom he claimed as his\nmaster in prose.\n\nIt was not till 1890 that he published his first and only novel, _The\nPicture of Dorian Gray_, with its strangeness of colour and its\npassionate suggestion flickering like lightning through the gloom of the\nsubject. The Puritans and the Philistines, who scented veiled\nimproprieties in its paradoxes, were shocked; but it delighted the\nconnoisseur and the artist, wearied as they were with the hum-drum\naccounts of afternoon tea parties and the love affairs of the curate.\n\nThat such a master of prose and scholarship as Pater should have written\nin terms of commendation of _Dorian Gray_ is sufficient to prove how\nfree from offence the story really is. In the original version of the\nstory one passage struck Pater as being indefinite and likely to suggest\nevil to evil minds. This paragraph Wilde elaborated, but he refused to\nsuppress a single sentence of what he had written. \"No artist is\nconsciously wrong,\" he declared.\n\nA similar incident is recorded as early as 1878. Shairp, the Professor\nof Poetry at Oxford, suggested some improvements in Wilde's Newdigate\nPrize Poem _Ravenna_. Wilde listened to all the suggestions with\ncourtesy, and even took notes of them, but he went away and had the poem\nprinted without making a single alteration in it.\n\n_The Picture of Dorian Gray_ first appeared on June 20th, 1890, in\n_Lippincott's Monthly Magazine_ for July. It was published in America by\nthe J.B. Lippincott Company of Philadelphia simultaneously with the\nEnglish edition of the same magazine issued by Messrs. Ward, Lock and\nCo.\n\nA few weeks before the publication of his romance Wilde wrote a letter\nto a publisher stating that his story would appear in Lippincott's on\nthe following 20th of June, and that after three months the copyright\nreverted to him. The publication of _Dorian Gray_ would \"create a\nsensation,\" he wrote; he was \"going to add two additional chapters,\" and\nwould the publishing house with whom he was corresponding care to\nconsider it?\n\nUnfortunately the letter bears no indication of the house to which it\nwas sent. However, on the 1st of July in the following year _The Picture\nof Dorian Gray_ was published in book form by Messrs. Ward, Lock and Co.\nIn this form it contained seven new chapters. The binding was of a rough\ngrey paper, the colour of cigarette ash, with back of parchment vellum.\nThe gilt lettering and design was by Charles Ricketts. A sumptuous\n_\u00e9dition de luxe_, limited to two hundred and fifty copies, signed by\nthe author, was also issued, the covers being similar to the ordinary\nedition but the gilt tooling more elaborate.\n\nIn March, 1891, Wilde had written \"A Preface to 'Dorian Gray'\" in the\n_Fortnightly Review_, in which he enunciated his creed as an artist.\nThis preface is included in all impressions of _Dorian Gray_ which\ncontain twenty chapters.\n\nWilde was indeed a true prophet when he foretold that his story would\ncreate a sensation. Though it occupied but a hundred pages in a monthly\nperiodical, it was reviewed as fully as any _chef d'oeuvre_ of a leading\nnovelist. In one of his letters Wilde says that out of over two hundred\npress cuttings which he received in reference to _Dorian Gray_ he took\npublic notice of only three. But it is impossible to doubt but that he\nwas thinking of his critics when he gave vent to his views on\njournalists, and the attitude of the British public towards art, in his\nessay on _The Soul of Man_ a few months later. \"A work of art is the\nunique result of a unique temperament,\" he writes. \"Its beauty comes\nfrom the fact that the author is what he is.... The moment that an\nartist takes notice of what other people want, and tries to supply the\ndemand, he ceases to be an artist.\"\n\nHe considers it to be an impertinence for the public (represented by the\njournalist) who knows nothing about art to criticise the artist and his\nwork. In this country, he declares that the arts that have escaped best\nfrom the \"aggressive, offensive and brutalising\" attempts on the part of\nthe public to interfere with the individual as an artist, are the arts\nin which the public takes no interest. He gives poetry as an instance,\nand declares that we have been able to have fine poetry because the\npublic does not read it, and consequently does not influence it. But,\n\n\n     \"In the case of the novel and the drama, arts in which the public\n     does take an interest, the result of the exercise of popular\n     authority has been absolutely ridiculous. No country produces such\n     badly written fiction, such tedious, common work in the\n     novel-form.... It must necessarily be so. The popular standard is\n     of such a character that no artist can get to it. It is at once too\n     easy and too difficult to be a popular novelist. It is too easy,\n     because the requirements of the public as far as plot, style,\n     psychology, treatment of life, and treatment of literature are\n     concerned are within the reach of the very meanest capacity and the\n     most uncultivated mind. It is too difficult, because to meet such\n     requirements the artist would have to do violence to his\n     temperament, would have to write not for the artistic joy of\n     writing, but for the amusement of half-educated people, and so\n     would have to suppress his individualism, forget his culture,\n     annihilate his style, and surrender everything that is valuable in\n     him....\n\n     \"The one thing that the public dislikes is novelty. Any attempt to\n     extend the subject-matter of art is extremely distasteful to the\n     public; and yet the vitality and progress of art depend in a large\n     measure on the continual extension of subject-matter. The public\n     dislikes novelty because it is afraid of it.... A fresh mode of\n     Beauty is absolutely distasteful to the public, and whenever it\n     appears it gets so angry and bewildered that it always uses two\n     stupid expressions--one is that the work of art is grossly\n     unintelligible; the other, that the work of art is grossly immoral.\n     When the public says a work is grossly unintelligible, it means\n     that the artist has said a beautiful thing that is new; when the\n     public describes a work as grossly immoral, it means that the\n     artist has said or made a beautiful thing that is true. The former\n     expression has reference to style; the latter to subject-matter.\n     But it probably uses the words very vaguely, as an ordinary mob\n     will use ready-made paving-stones. _There is not a single real poet\n     or prose-writer of this_ (the nineteenth) _century on whom the\n     British public has not solemnly conferred diplomas of\n     immorality_.... Of course, the public is very reckless in the use\n     of the word.... An artist is, of course, not disturbed by it. The\n     true artist is a man who believes absolutely in himself, because he\n     is absolutely himself. But I can fancy that if an artist produced a\n     work of art in England, that immediately on its appearance was\n     recognised by the public, through its medium, which is the public\n     press, as a work that was quite intelligible and highly moral, he\n     would begin seriously to question whether in its creation he had\n     really been himself at all, and consequently whether the work was\n     not quite unworthy of him, and either of a thoroughly second-rate\n     order or of no artistic value whatsoever.\"\n\n\nWilde then goes on to discuss the use of other words by journalists\nseeking to describe the work of an artist. These are the words \"exotic,\"\n\"unhealthy,\" and \"morbid.\"[3] He disposes of each in turn. Briefly he\nsays, that the public is morbid, the artist is never morbid. The word\n\"exotic\" merely expresses the rage of the momentary mushroom against the\nimmortal, entrancing and exquisitely lovely orchid. \"_And,_\" he\nconcludes, \"_what the public calls an unhealthy novel is always a\nbeautiful and healthy work of art._\"\n\n[1] Oscar Wilde matriculated at Magdalen College, Oxford, October 17,\n1874, and took his B.A. degree on November 28, 1878. Pater was at the\ntime a Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose.\n\n[2] _The Speaker_, Vol I., No. 12, page 319. March 22, 1890.\n\n[3] _The Times_, February 23rd, 1893, in reviewing \"Salome\", said: \"It\nis an arrangement in blood and ferocity, morbid, bizarre, repulsive and\nvery offensive.\" Wilde replied (_Times_, March 2nd), \"The opinions of\nEnglish critics on a French work of mine have, of course, little, if any\ninterest for me.\"\n\nIn _The Soul of Man_ he wrote: \"To call an artist morbid because he\ndeals with morbidity as his subject matter, is as silly as if one called\nShakespeare mad because he wrote 'King Lear.'\"\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_One of the results of the extraordinary tyranny of authority is that\nwords are absolutely distorted from their proper and simple meaning, and\nare used to express the obverse of their right signification._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA STUDY IN PUPPYDOM.[4]\n\n\nTime was (it was in the '70's) when we talked about Mr. Oscar Wilde;\ntime came (it was in the '80's) when he tried to write poetry and, more\nadventurous, we tried to read it; time is when we had forgotten him, or\nonly remember him as the late editor of the _Woman's World_--a part for\nwhich he was singularly unfitted, if we are to judge him by the work\nwhich he has been allowed to publish in _Lippincott's Magazine_, and\nwhich Messrs. Ward, Lock and Co., have not been ashamed to circulate in\nGreat Britain. Not being curious in ordure, and not wishing to offend\nthe nostrils of decent persons, we do not propose to analyse \"The\nPicture of Dorian Gray\": that would be to advertise the developments of\nan esoteric prurience. Whether the Treasury or the Vigilance Society\nwill think it worth while to prosecute Mr. Oscar Wilde or Messrs. Ward,\nLock and Co., we do not know; but on the whole we hope they will not.\n\nThe puzzle is that a young man of decent parts, who enjoyed (when he was\nat Oxford), the opportunity of associating with gentlemen, should put\nhis name (such as it is) to so stupid and vulgar a piece of work. Let\nnobody read it in the hope of finding witty paradox or racy wickedness.\nThe writer airs his cheap research among the garbage of the French\n_D\u00e9cadents_ like any drivelling pedant, and he bores you unmercifully\nwith his prosy rigmaroles about the beauty of the Body and the\ncorruption of the Soul. The grammar is better than Ouida's; the\nerudition equal: but in every other respect we prefer the talented lady\nwho broke off with \"pious aposiopesis\" when she touched upon \"the\nhorrors which are described in the pages of Suetonius and Livy\"--not to\nmention the yet worse infamies believed by many scholars to be\naccurately portrayed in the lost works of Plutarch, Venus, and\nNicodemus, especially Nicodemus.\n\nLet us take one peep at the young men in Mr. Oscar Wilde's story. Puppy\nNo. 1 is the painter of the picture of Dorian Gray; Puppy No. 2 is the\ncritic (a courtesy lord, skilled in all the knowledge of the Egyptians\nand aweary of all the sins and pleasures of London); Puppy No. 3 is the\noriginal, cultivated by Puppy No. 1 with a \"romantic friendship\". The\nPuppies fall a-talking: Puppy No. 1 about his art, Puppy No. 2 about his\nsins and pleasures and the pleasures of sin, and Puppy No. 3 about\nhimself--always about himself, and generally about his face, which is\n\"brainless and beautiful\". The Puppies appear to fill up the intervals\nof talk by plucking daisies and playing with them, and sometimes by\ndrinking \"something with strawberry in it.\" The youngest Puppy is told\nthat he is charming; but he mustn't sit in the sun for fear of spoiling\nhis complexion. When he is rebuked for being a naughty, wilful boy, he\nmakes a pretty _moue_--this man of twenty! This is how he is addressed\nby the Blas\u00e9 Puppy at their first meeting:\n\n\"Yes, Mr. Gray, the gods have been good to you. But what the gods give\nthey quickly take away.... When your youth goes, your beauty will go\nwith it, and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs\nleft for you.... Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies\nand roses. You will become sallow, and hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed.\nYou will suffer horribly.\"[5]\n\nWhy, bless our souls! haven't we read something of this kind somewhere\nin the classics? Yes, of course we have! But in what recondite author?\nAh--yes--no--yes, it _was_ in Horace! What an advantage it is to have\nreceived a classical education! And how it will astonish the Yankees!\nBut we must not forget our Puppies, who have probably occupied their\ntime in lapping \"something with strawberry in it.\" Puppy No. 1 (the Art\nPuppy) has been telling Puppy No. 3 (the Doll Puppy) how much he admires\nhim. What is the answer? \"I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or\nyour silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me?\nTill I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know now that when one loses\none's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything.... I am\njealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what\nI must lose?... Oh, if it was only the other way! If the picture could\nonly change, and I could be always what I am now!\"[6]\n\nNo sooner said than done! The picture _does_ change: the original\ndoesn't. Here's a situation for you! Th\u00e9ophile Gautier could have made\nit romantic, entrancing, beautiful. Mr. Stevenson could have made it\nconvincing, humorous, pathetic. Mr. Anstey could have made it\nscreamingly funny. It has been reserved for Mr. Oscar Wilde to make it\ndull and nasty. The promising youth plunges into every kind of mean\ndepravity, and ends in being \"cut\" by fast women and vicious men. He\nfinishes with murder: the New Voluptuousness always leads up to\nblood-shedding--that is part of the cant. The gore and gashes wherein\nMr. Rider Haggard takes a chaste delight are the natural diet for a\ncultivated palate which is tired of mere licentiousness. And every\nwickedness of filthiness committed by Dorian Gray is faithfully\nregistered upon his face in the picture; but his living features are\nundisturbed and unmarred by his inward vileness. This is the story which\nMr. Oscar Wilde has tried to tell; a very lame story it is, and very\nlamely it is told.\n\nWhy has he told it? There are two explanations; and, so far as we can\nsee, not more than two. Not to give pleasure to his readers: the thing\nis too clumsy, too tedious, and--alas! that we should say it--too\nstupid. Perhaps it was to shock his readers, in order that they might\ncry Fie! upon him and talk about him, much as Mr. Grant Allen recently\ntried in the _Universal Review_ to arouse, by a licentious theory of the\nsexual relations, an attention which is refused to his popular chatter\nabout other men's science. Are we then to suppose that Mr. Oscar Wilde\nhas yielded to the craving for a notoriety which he once earned by\ntalking fiddle faddle about other men's art, and sees his only chance of\nrecalling it by making himself obvious at the cost of being obnoxious,\nand by attracting the notice which the olfactory sense cannot refuse to\nthe presence of certain self-asserting organisms? That is an\nuncharitable hypothesis, and we would gladly abandon it. It may be\nsuggested (but is it more charitable?) that he derives pleasure from\ntreating a subject merely because it is disgusting. The phenomenon is\nnot unknown in recent literature; and it takes two forms, in appearance\nwidely separate--in fact, two branches from the same root, a root which\ndraws its life from malodorous putrefaction. One development is found in\nthe Puritan prurience which produced Tolstoi's \"Kreutzer Sonata\" and Mr.\nStead's famous outbursts. That is odious enough and mischievous enough,\nand it is rightly execrated, because it is tainted with an hypocrisy not\nthe less culpable because charitable persons may believe it to be\nunconscious. But is it more odious or more mischievous than the \"frank\nPaganism\" (that is the word, is it not?) which delights in dirtiness and\nconfesses its delight? Still they are both chips from the same\nblock--\"The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon\" and \"The Picture of Dorian\nGray\"--and both of them ought to be chucked into the fire. Not so much\nbecause they are dangerous and corrupt (they are corrupt but not\ndangerous) as because they are incurably silly, written by simple\n_poseurs_ (whether they call themselves Puritan or Pagan) who know\nnothing about the life which they affect to have explored, and because\nthey are mere catchpenny revelations of the non-existent, which, if they\nreveal anything at all, are revelations only of the singularly\nunpleasant minds from which they emerge.\n\n\n[4] _St. James's Gazette_, June 24th, 1890.\n\n[5] Pp. 16, 17.\n\n[6] p. 19.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Who can help laughing when an ordinary journalist seriously proposes to\nlimit the subject-matter at the disposal of the artist?_\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. WILDE'S BAD CASE.\n\n\nTo the Editor of the _St. James's Gazette_.[7]\n\nSir,--I have read your criticism of my story, \"The Picture of Dorian\nGray,\" and I need hardly say that I do not propose to discuss its merits\nand demerits, its personalities or its lack of personality. England is a\nfree country, and ordinary English criticism is perfectly free and easy.\n\nBesides, I must admit that, either from temperament or taste, or from\nboth, I am quite incapable of understanding how any work of art can be\ncriticised from a moral standpoint. The sphere of art and the sphere of\nethics are absolutely distinct and separate; and it is to the confusion\nbetween the two that we owe the appearance of Mrs. Grundy, that amusing\nold lady who represents the only original form of humour that the middle\nclasses of this country have been able to produce.\n\nWhat I do object to most strongly is that you should have placarded the\ntown with posters on which was printed in large letters:--\n\nMR. OSCAR WILDE'S\nLATEST ADVERTISEMENT:\nA BAD CASE.\n\nWhether the expression \"A Bad Case\" refers to my book or to the present\nposition of the Government, I cannot tell. What was silly and\nunnecessary was the use of the term \"advertisement\".\n\nI think I may say without vanity--though I do not wish to appear to run\nvanity down--that of all men in England I am the one who requires least\nadvertisement. I am tired to death of being advertised--I feel no thrill\nwhen I see my name in a paper. The chronicle does not interest me any\nmore. I wrote this book entirely for my own pleasure, and it gave me\nvery great pleasure to write it. Whether it becomes popular or not is a\nmatter of absolute indifference to me. I am afraid, Sir, that the real\nadvertisement is your cleverly written article. The English public, as a\nmass, takes no interest in a work of art until it is told that the work\nin question is immoral, and your _r\u00e9clame_ will, I have no doubt,\nlargely increase the sale of the magazine; in which sale, I may mention,\nwith some regret, I have no pecuniary interest.\n\nI remain, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\n                             OSCAR WILDE.\n\n16, Tite Street, Chelsea, June 25th.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTo this the following Editorial note was appended:--\n\nIn the preceding column will be found the best reply which Mr. Oscar\nWilde can make to our recent criticism of his mawkish and nauseous\nstory, \"The Picture of Dorian Gray\". Mr. Wilde tells us that he is\nconstitutionally unable to understand how any work of art can be\ncriticised from a moral standpoint. We were quite aware that ethics and\n\u00e6sthetics are different matters, and that is why the greater part of our\ncriticism was devoted not so much to the nastiness of \"The Picture of\nDorian Gray,\" but to its dulness and stupidity. Mr. Wilde pretends that\nwe have advertised it. So we have, if any readers are attracted to a\nbook which, we have warned them, will bore them insufferably.\n\nThat the story is corrupt cannot be denied; but we added, and assuredly\nbelieve, that it is not dangerous, because, as we said, it is tedious\nand stupid.\n\nMr. Wilde tells us that he wrote the story for his own pleasure, and\nfound great pleasure in writing it. We congratulate him. There is no\ntriumph more precious to your \u00e6sthete than the discovery of a delight\nwhich outsiders cannot share or even understand. The author of \"The\nPicture of Dorian Gray\" is the only person likely to find pleasure in\nit.\n\n\n[7] June 26th, 1890.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Why should an artist be troubled by the shrill clamour of criticism?_\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. OSCAR WILDE AGAIN.\n\n\nMr. Oscar Wilde continues to carry on the defence of his novelette, \"The\nPicture of Dorian Gray\". Writing to us under yesterday's date[8], he\nsays:--\n\nIn your issue of to-day you state that my brief letter published in your\ncolumns is the \"best reply\" I can make to your article upon \"Dorian\nGray.\" This is not so. I do not propose to discuss fully the matter\nhere, but I feel bound to say that your article contains the most\nunjustifiable attack that has been made upon any man of letters for many\nyears.\n\nThe writer of it, who is quite incapable of concealing his personal\nmalice, and so in some measure destroys the effect he wishes to produce,\nseems not to have the slightest idea of the temper in which a work of\nart should be approached. To say that such a book as mine should be\n\"chucked into the fire\" is silly. That is what one does with newspapers.\n\nOf the value of pseudo-ethical criticism; in dealing with artistic work\nI have spoken already. But as your writer has ventured into the perilous\ngrounds of literary criticism I ask you to allow me, in fairness not\nmerely to myself, but to all men to whom literature is a fine art, to\nsay a few words about his critical method.\n\nHe begins by assailing me with much ridiculous virulence because the\nchief personages in my story are puppies. They _are_ puppies. Does he\nthink that literature went to the dogs when Thackeray wrote about\npuppydom? I think that puppies are extremely interesting from an\nartistic as well as from a psychological point of view.\n\nThey seem to me to be certainly far more interesting than prigs; and I\nam of opinion that Lord Henry Wotton is an excellent corrective of the\ntedious ideal shadowed forth in the semi-theological novels of our age.\n\nHe then makes vague and fearful insinuations about my grammar and my\nerudition. Now, as regards grammar, I hold that, in prose at any rate,\ncorrectness should always be subordinate to artistic effect and musical\ncadence; and any peculiarities of syntax that may occur in \"Dorian Gray\"\nare deliberately intended, and are introduced to show the value of the\nartistic theory in question. Your writer gives no instance of any such\npeculiarity. This I regret, because I do not think that any such\ninstances occur.\n\nAs regards erudition, it is always difficult, even for the most modest\nof us, to remember that other people do not know quite as much as one\ndoes one's self. I myself frankly admit I cannot imagine how a casual\nreference to Suetonius and Petronius Arbiter can be construed into\nevidence of a desire to impress an unoffending and ill-educated public\nby an assumption of superior knowledge. I should fancy that the most\nordinary of scholars is perfectly well acquainted with the \"Lives of the\nC\u00e6sars\" and with the \"Satyricon.\"\n\n\"The Lives of the C\u00e6sars,\" at any rate, forms part of the curriculum at\nOxford for those who take the Honour School of \"Liter\u00e6 Humaniores\"; and\nas for the \"Satyricon\" it is popular even among pass-men, though I\nsuppose they are obliged to read it in translations.\n\nThe writer of the article then suggests that I, in common with that\ngreat and noble artist Count Tolstoi, take pleasure in a subject because\nit is dangerous. About such a suggestion there is this to be said.\nRomantic art deals with the exception and with the individual. Good\npeople, belonging as they do to the normal, and so, commonplace type,\nare artistically uninteresting.\n\nBad people are, from the point of view of art, fascinating studies. They\nrepresent colour, variety and strangeness. Good people exasperate one's\nreason; bad people stir one's imagination. Your critic, if I must give\nhim so honourable a title, states that the people in any story have no\ncounterpart in life; that they are, to use his vigorous if somewhat\nvulgar phrase, \"mere catchpenny revelations of the non-existent.\" Quite\nso.\n\nIf they existed they would not be worth writing about. The function of\nthe artist is to invent, not to chronicle. There are no such people. If\nthere were I would not write about them. Life by its realism is always\nspoiling the subject-matter of art.\n\nThe superior pleasure in literature is to realise the non-existent.\n\nAnd, finally, let me say this. You have reproduced, in a journalistic\nform, the comedy of \"Much Ado about Nothing\" and have, of course, spoilt\nit in your reproduction.\n\nThe poor public, hearing from an authority so high as your own, that\nthis is a wicked book that should be coerced and suppressed by a Tory\nGovernment, will, no doubt, rush to it and read it. But, alas, they will\nfind that it is a story with a moral. And the moral is this: All excess,\nas well as all renunciation, brings its own punishment.\n\nThe painter, Basil Hallward, worshipping physical beauty far too much,\nas most painters do, dies by the hand of one in whose soul he has\ncreated a monstrous and absurd vanity. Dorian Gray, having led a life of\nmere sensation and pleasure, tries to kill conscience, and at that\nmoment kills himself. Lord Henry Wotton seeks to be merely the spectator\nof life. He finds that those who reject the battle are more deeply\nwounded than those who take part in it.\n\nYes, there is a terrible moral in \"Dorian Gray\"--a moral which the\nprurient will not be able to find in it, but it will be revealed to all\nwhose minds are healthy. Is this an artistic error? I fear it is. It is\nthe only error in the book.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Editor added to this letter:--\n\nMr. Oscar Wilde may perhaps be excused for being angry at the remarks\nwhich we allowed ourselves to make concerning the \"moral tale\" of the\nThree Puppies and the Magic Picture; but he should not misrepresent us.\nHe says we suggested that his novel was a \"wicked book which should be\ncoerced and suppressed by a Tory Government.\" We did nothing of the\nkind. The authors of books of much less questionable character have been\nproceeded against by the Treasury or the Vigilance Society; but we\nexpressly said that we hoped Mr. Wilde's masterpiece would be left\nalone.\n\nThen, Mr. Wilde (like any young lady who has published her first novel\n\"at the request of numerous friends\") falls back on the theory of the\ncritic's personal malice. This is unworthy of so experienced a literary\ngentleman. We can assure Mr. Wilde that the writer of that article had,\nand has, no \"personal malice\" or personal feeling towards him. We can\nsurely censure a work which we believe to be silly and know to be\noffensive, without the imputation of malice--especially when that book\nis written by one who is so clearly capable of better things.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs for the critical question, Mr. Wilde is beating the air when he\ndefends idealism and \"romantic art\" in literature. In the words of Mrs.\nHarris to Mrs. Gamp, \"Who's deniging of it?\"\n\nHeaven forbid that we should refuse to an author the supreme pleasure of\nrealising the non-existent; or that we should judge the \"\u00e6sthetic\" from\nthe purely ethical standpoint.\n\nNo; our criticism starts from lower ground. Mr. Wilde says that his\nstory is a moral tale, because the wicked persons in it come to a bad\nend. We will not be so rude as to quote a certain remark about morality\nwhich one Mr. Charles Surface made to Mr. Joseph Surface. We simply say\nthat every critic has the right to point out that a work of art or\nliterature is dull and incompetent in its treatment--as \"The Picture of\nDorian Gray\" is, and that its dulness and incompetence are not redeemed\nbecause it constantly hints, not obscurely, at disgusting sins and\nabominable crimes--as \"The Picture of Dorian Gray\" does.\n\n\n[8] June 26th.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_A true artist takes no notice whatever of the public. The public is to\nhim non-existent. He has no poppied or honeyed cakes through which to\ngive the monster sleep or sustenance. He leaves that to the popular\nnovelist._\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. OSCAR WILDE'S DEFENCE.\n\n\nTo the Editor of the _St. James's Gazette_.[9]\n\nSir,--As you still keep up, though in a somewhat milder form than\nbefore, your attacks on me and my book you not only confer upon me the\nright, but you impose on me the duty of reply.\n\nYou state, in your issue of to-day, that I misrepresented you when I\nsaid that you suggested that a book so wicked as mine should be\n\"suppressed and coerced by a Tory Government.\" Now, you did not propose\nthis, but you did suggest it. When you declare that you do not know\nwhether or not the Government will take action about my book, and remark\nthat the authors of books much less wicked have been proceeded against\nin law, the suggestion is quite obvious.\n\nIn your complaint of misrepresentation you seem to me, Sir, to have been\nnot quite candid.\n\nHowever, as far as I am concerned, this suggestion is of no importance.\nWhat is of importance is that the editor of a paper like yours should\nappear to countenance the monstrous theory that the Government of a\ncountry should exercise a censorship over imaginative literature. This\nis a theory against which I, and all men of letters of my acquaintance,\nprotest most strongly; and any critic who admits the reasonableness of\nsuch a theory shows at once that he is quite incapable of understanding\nwhat literature is, and what are the rights that literature possesses. A\nGovernment might just as well try to teach painters how to paint, or\nsculptors how to model, as attempt to interfere with the style,\ntreatment and subject-matter of the literary artist, and no writer,\nhowever eminent or obscure, should ever give his sanction to a theory\nthat would degrade literature far more than any didactic or so-called\nimmoral book could possibly do.\n\nYou then express your surprise that \"so experienced a literary\ngentleman\" as myself should imagine that your critic was animated by any\nfeeling of personal malice towards him. The phrase \"literary gentleman\"\nis a vile phrase, but let that pass.\n\nI accept quite readily your assurance that your critic was simply\ncriticising a work of art in the best way that he could, but I feel that\nI was fully justified in forming the opinion of him that I did. He\nopened his article by a gross personal attack on myself. This, I need\nhardly say, was an absolutely unpardonable error of critical taste.\n\nThere is no excuse for it except personal malice; and you, Sir, should\nnot have sanctioned it. A critic should be taught to criticise a work of\nart without making any reference to the personality of the author. This,\nin fact, is the beginning of criticism. However, it was not merely his\npersonal attack on me that made me imagine that he was actuated by\nmalice. What really confirmed me in my first impression was his\nreiterated assertion that my book was tedious and dull.\n\nNow, if I were criticising my book, which I have some thoughts of doing,\nI think I would consider it my duty to point out that it is far too\ncrowded with sensational incident, and far too paradoxical in style, as\nfar, at any rate, as the dialogue goes. I feel that from a standpoint of\nart there are true defects in the book. But tedious and dull the book is\nnot.\n\nYour critic has cleared himself of the charge of personal malice, his\ndenial and yours being quite sufficient in the matter; but he has done\nso only by a tacit admission that he has really no critical instinct\nabout literature and literary work, which, in one who writes about\nliterature is, I need hardly say, a much graver fault than malice of any\nkind.\n\nFinally, Sir, allow me to say this. Such an article as you have\npublished really makes me despair of the possibility of any general\nculture in England. Were I a French author, and my book brought out in\nParis, there is not a single literary critic in France on any paper of\nhigh standing who would think for a moment of criticising it from an\nethical standpoint. If he did so he would stultify himself, not merely\nin the eyes of all men of letters, but in the eyes of the majority of\nthe public.\n\nYou have yourself often spoken against Puritanism. Believe me, Sir,\nPuritanism is never so offensive and destructive as when it deals with\nart matters. It is there that it is radically wrong. It is this\nPuritanism, to which your critic has given expression, that is always\nmarring the artistic instinct of the English. So far from encouraging\nit, you should set yourself against it, and should try to teach your\ncritics to recognise the essential difference between art and life.\n\nThe gentleman who criticised my book is in a perfectly hopeless\nconfusion about it, and your attempt to help him out by proposing that\nthe subject-matter of art should be limited does not mend matters. It is\nproper that limitation should be placed on action. It is not proper that\nlimitation should be placed on art. To art belong all things that are\nand all things that are not, and even the editor of a London paper has\nno right to restrain the freedom of art in the selection of\nsubject-matter.\n\nI now trust, Sir, that these attacks on me and my book will cease. There\nare forms of advertisement that are unwarranted and unwarrantable.\n\nI am, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\n                         OSCAR WILDE.\n\n16, Tite Street, S.W., June 27th.\n\n\n[9] June 28th.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_The public ... is always asking a writer why he does not write like\nsomebody else ... quite oblivious of the fact that if he did anything of\nthe kind he would cease to be an artist._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOnce more the Editor attempted to justify his reviewer's trenchant\ncriticism:--\n\nMr. Oscar Wilde makes his third and, we presume, his final reply to the\ncriticism which we published on \"The Picture of Dorian Gray.\" Somewhat\ngrudgingly, but in sufficiently explicit terms, he withdraws the charge\nof \"personal malice\" which he brought against the critic, and which, we\nmay again assure him, is absolutely unfounded.\n\nBut he adheres to the other charge of critical incapacity. Mr. Wilde\nassures us that his book, so far from being dull and tedious, is full of\ninterest; an opinion which is shared (see the letter we print on another\npage to-day) by his publishers' advertising agent-in-advance.\n\nWell, we can only repeat that we disagree with Mr. Wilde and his\npublishers' paragraphist.\n\nQuite apart from \"ethical\" considerations, the book seems to us a feeble\nand ineffective attempt at a kind of allegory which, in the hands of\nabler writers (writers like Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Anstey, for instance)\ncan be made striking or amusing.\n\n\nMr. Wilde also says that we suggested that the author and publishers of\n\"The Picture of Dorian Gray\" ought to be prosecuted by the Tory\nGovernment, by which we presume he means the Treasury. No; we consider\nthat such prosecutions are ill-advised, and expressly suggested that\nsuch action ought not to be taken against a book which we believed to be\nrendered innocuous by the tedious and stupid qualities which the critic\ndiscovered and explained. Secondly, Mr. Wilde hints that the \"rights of\nliterature\" include a right to say what it pleases, how it pleases and\nwhere it pleases. That is a right not only not recognised by the law of\nthe land, but expressly denied by penalties which have been repeatedly\nenforced. Then what does Mr. Oscar Wilde mean by talking about the\n\"rights of literature\"? We will not insult an artist, who is by his own\naccount un-moral or supra-moral by suggesting that he means \"moral\nrights.\" But he tells us that limitations may be set on action but ought\nnot to be set on art. Quite so. But art becomes action when the work of\nart is published. It is offensive publications that we object to, not\nthe offensive imaginings of such minds as find their pleasure therein.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLETTER FROM \"A LONDON EDITOR.\"\n\n\nIn the same issue of June 28th appeared the following letter:--\n\nTo the Editor of the _St. James's Gazette_.\n\nSir,--If Mr. Oscar Wilde is the last man in England (according to his\nown account) who requires advertisement, his friends and publishers do\nnot seem to be of the same opinion. Otherwise it is difficult to account\nfor the following audacious puff-postive which has been sent through the\nhalfpenny post to newspaper editors and others:--\n\n     Mr. Oscar Wilde will contribute to the July number of _Lippincott's\n     Magazine_ a complete novel, entitled \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\"\n     which, as the first venture in fiction of one of the most prominent\n     personalities and artistic influences of the day, will be\n     everywhere read with wide interest and curiosity. But the story is\n     in itself so strong and strange, and so picturesque and powerful in\n     style, that it must inevitably have created a sensation in the\n     literary world, even if published without Mr. Wilde's name on the\n     title page.\n\n     Viewed merely as a romance, it is from the opening paragraph down\n     to the tragic and ghastly climax, full of strong and sustained\n     interest; as a study in psychology it is phenomenal; judged even\n     purely as a piece of literary workmanship it is one of the most\n     brilliant and remarkable productions of the year.\n\nSuch, Sir, is the estimate of Mr. Wilde's publishers or paragraph\nwriter. Note the adjectival exuberance of the puffer--complete, strong,\nstrange, picturesque, powerful, tragic, ghastly, sustained, phenomenal,\nbrilliant and remarkable. For a man who does not want advertisement this\nis not bad.\n\nI am, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\nJune 27th.                       A LONDON EDITOR.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_The sphere of art and the sphere of ethics are absolutely distinct and\nseparate._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. OSCAR WILDE'S DEFENCE.\n\n\nTo the Editor of the _St. James's Gazette_.[10]\n\nSir,--In your issue of this evening you publish a letter from \"A London\nEditor\" which clearly insinuates in the last paragraph that I have in\nsome way sanctioned the circulation of an expression of opinion, on the\npart of the proprietors of _Lippincott's Magazine_, of the literary and\nartistic value of my story of the \"Picture of Dorian Gray.\"\n\nAllow me, Sir, to state that there are no grounds for this insinuation.\nI was not aware that any such document was being circulated; and I have\nwritten to the agents, Messrs. Ward and Lock--who cannot, I feel sure,\nbe primarily responsible for its appearance--to ask them to withdraw it\nat once. No publisher should ever express an opinion of the value of\nwhat he publishes. That is a matter entirely for the literary critic to\ndecide.\n\nI must admit, as one to whom contemporary literature is constantly\nsubmitted for criticism, that the only thing that ever prejudices me\nagainst a book is the lack of literary style; but I can quite understand\nhow any ordinary critic would be strongly prejudiced against a work that\nwas accompanied by a premature and unnecessary panegyric from the\npublisher. A publisher is simply a useful middle-man. It is not for him\nto anticipate the verdict of criticism.\n\nI may, however, while expressing my thanks to the \"London Editor\" for\ndrawing my attention to this, I trust, purely American method of\nprocedure, venture to differ from him in one of his criticisms. He\nstates that he regards the expression \"complete\" as applied to a story,\nas a specimen of the \"adjectival exuberance of the puffer.\" Here, it\nseems to me, he sadly exaggerates. What my story is is an interesting\nproblem. What my story is not is a \"novelette\"--a term which you have\nmore than once applied to it. There is no such word in the English\nlanguage as novelette. It should not be used. It is merely part of the\nslang of Fleet Street.\n\nIn another part of your paper, Sir, you state that I received your\nassurance of the lack of malice in your critic \"somewhat grudgingly.\"\nThis is not so. I frankly said that I accepted that assurance \"quite\nreadily,\" and that your own denial and that of your critic were\n\"sufficient.\"\n\nNothing more generous could have been said. What I did feel was that you\nsaved your critic from the charge of malice by convicting him of the\nunpardonable crime of lack of literary instinct. I still feel that. To\ncall my book an ineffective attempt at allegory that, in the hands of\nMr. Anstey might have been made striking, is absurd.\n\nMr. Anstey's sphere in literature and my sphere are different.\n\nYou then gravely ask me what rights I imagine literature possesses. That\nis really an extraordinary question for the editor of a newspaper such\nas yours to ask. The rights of literature, Sir, are the rights of\nintellect.\n\nI remember once hearing M. Renan say that he would sooner live under a\nmilitary despotism than under the despotism of the Church, because the\nformer merely limited the freedom of action, while the latter limited\nthe freedom of mind.\n\nYou say that a work of art is a form of action: It is not. It is the\nhighest mode of thought.\n\nIn conclusion, Sir, let me ask you not to force on me this continued\ncorrespondence by daily attacks. It is a trouble and a nuisance.\n\nAs you assailed me first, I have a right to the last word. Let that last\nword be the present letter, and leave my book, I beg you, to the\nimmortality that it deserves.\n\nI am, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\n                         OSCAR WILDE.\n\n16, Tite Street, S.W., June 28th.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"THE LAST WORD.\"\n\n\nWe should be sorry to deny the ex-editor of the _Woman's World_ the\nfeminine privilege of \"the last word\" for which he pleads to-day. At the\nsame time we cannot admit that we force upon Mr. Oscar Wilde the burden\nof a newspaper controversy by \"daily attacks.\"\n\nMr. Wilde published a book, and (presumably) submitted it to criticism:\nwe exercised our rights as critics of contemporary literature by\npointing out that we thought the book feeble and offensive. Mr. Wilde\nreplies, defending his book against our unfavourable criticism, and we\nhave again the right to point out that we do not consider that he has\nsatisfactorily met our arguments and our objections. For the rest, we\nare quite willing to leave \"The Picture of Dorian Gray\" to the\n\"immortality it deserves.\" We must add one word. We congratulate Mr.\nWilde on his emphatic disavowal of the ridiculous puff preliminary which\nhis publishers had chosen to circulate.\n\n\nTwo days later (July 2nd) the Editor could not resist one more word:--\n\nModest Mr. Oscar Wilde. He has been having a little dispute with the\n_Daily Chronicle_ as well as with the _St. James's Gazette_ and this is\nwhat he writes to our contemporary:--\n\n     My story is an essay on decorative art. It re-acts against the\n     crude brutality of plain realism. It is poisonous, if you like, but\n     you cannot deny that it is also perfect, and perfection is what we\n     artists aim at.\n\n[10] June 30th.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Art should never try to be popular. The public should try and make\nitself artistic._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"THE DAILY CHRONICLE\"[11] ON \"DORIAN GRAY.\"\n\n\nDulness and dirt are the chief features of _Lippincott's_ this month.\nThe element in it that is unclean, though undeniably amusing, is\nfurnished by Mr. Oscar Wilde's story of \"The Picture of Dorian Gray.\" It\nis a tale spawned from the leprous literature of the French D\u00e9cadents--a\npoisonous book, the atmosphere of which is heavy with the mephitic\nodours of moral and spiritual putrefaction--a gloating study of the\nmental and physical corruption of a fresh, fair and golden youth, which\nmight be horrible and fascinating but for its effeminate frivolity, its\nstudied insincerity, its theatrical cynicism, its tawdry mysticism, its\nflippant philosophisings and the contaminating trail of garish vulgarity\nwhich is over all Mr. Wilde's elaborate Wardour-street \u00e6stheticism and\nobtrusively cheap scholarship.\n\nMr. Wilde says his book has \"a moral.\" The \"moral,\" so far as we can\ncollect it, is that man's chief end is to develop his nature to the\nfullest by \"always searching for new sensations,\" that when the soul\ngets sick the way to cure it is to deny the senses nothing, for\n\"nothing,\" says one of Mr. Wilde's characters, Lord Henry Wotton, \"can\ncure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but\nthe soul.\" Man is half angel and half ape, and Mr. Wilde's book has no\nreal use if it be not to inculcate the \"moral\" that when you feel\nyourself becoming too angelic you cannot do better than rush out and\nmake a beast of yourself. There is not a single good and holy impulse of\nhuman nature, scarcely a fine feeling or instinct that civilization, art\nand religion have developed throughout the ages as part of the barriers\nbetween Humanity and Animalism that is not held up to ridicule and\ncontempt in \"Dorian Gray,\" if, indeed, such strong words can be fitly\napplied to the actual effect of Mr. Wilde's airy levity and fluent\nimpudence. His desperate effort to vamp up a \"moral\" for the book at the\nend is, artistically speaking, coarse and crude, because the whole\nincident of Dorian Gray's death is, as they say on the stage, \"out of\nthe picture.\" Dorian's only regret is that unbridled indulgence in every\nform of secret and unspeakable vice, every resource of luxury and art,\nand sometimes still more piquant to the jaded young man of fashion,\nwhose lives \"Dorian Gray\" pretends to sketch, by every abomination of\nvulgarity and squalor is--what? Why, that it will leave traces of\npremature age and loathsomeness on his pretty facy, rosy with the\nloveliness that endeared youth of his odious type to the paralytic\npatricians of the Lower Empire.\n\nDorian Gray prays that a portrait of himself which an artist (who raves\nabout him as young men do about the women they love not wisely but too\nwell) has painted may grow old instead of the original. This is what\nhappens by some supernatural agency, the introduction of which seems\npurely farcical, so that Dorian goes on enjoying unfading youth year\nafter year, and might go on for ever using his senses with impunity \"to\ncure his soul,\" defiling English society with the moral pestilence which\nis incarnate in him, but for one thing. That is his sudden impulse not\nmerely to murder the painter--which might be artistically defended on\nthe plea that it is only a fresh development of his scheme for realizing\nevery phase of life-experience--but to rip up the canvas in a rage,\nmerely because, though he had permitted himself to do one good action,\nit had not made his portrait less hideous. But all this is inconsistent\nwith Dorian Gray's cool, calculating, conscienceless character, evolved\nlogically enough by Mr Wilde's \"New Hedonism.\"\n\nThen Mr. Wilde finishes his story by saying that on hearing a heavy fall\nDorian Gray's servants rushed in, found the portrait on the wall as\nyouthful looking as ever, its senile ugliness being transferred to the\nfoul profligate himself, who is lying on the floor stabbed to the heart.\nThis is a sham moral, as indeed everything in the book is a sham, except\nthe one element in the book which will taint every young mind that comes\nin contact with it. That element is shockingly real, and it is the\nplausibly insinuated defence of the creed that appeals to the senses \"to\ncure the soul\" whenever the spiritual nature of man suffers from too\nmuch purity and self-denial.\n\nThe rest of this number of _Lippincott_ consists of articles of harmless\npadding.\n\n\n[11] June 30th, 1890.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOSCAR WILDE'S REPLY.\n\n\n\"DORIAN GRAY.\"\n\nTo the Editor of the _Daily Chronicle_.[12]\n\nSir,--Will you allow me to correct some errors into which your critic\nhas fallen in his review of my story, \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\"\npublished in to-day's issue of your paper?\n\nYour critic states, to begin with, that I make desperate attempts to\n\"vamp up\" a moral in my story. Now I must candidly confess that I do not\nknow what \"vamping\" is. I see, from time to time, mysterious\nadvertisements in the newspapers about \"How to Vamp,\" but what vamping\nreally means remains a mystery to me--a mystery that, like all other\nmysteries, I hope some day to explore.\n\nHowever, I do not propose to discuss the absurd terms used by modern\njournalism. What I want to say is that, so far from wishing to emphasise\nany moral in my story, the real trouble I experienced in writing the\nstory was that of keeping the extremely obvious moral subordinate to the\nartistic and dramatic effect.\n\nWhen I first conceived the idea of a young man selling his soul in\nexchange for eternal youth--an idea that is old in the history of\nliterature, but to which I have given new form--I felt that, from an\n\u00e6sthetic point of view, it would be difficult to keep the moral in its\nproper secondary place; and even now I do not feel quite sure that I\nhave been able to do so. I think the moral too apparent. When the book\nis published in a volume I hope to correct this defect.\n\nAs for what the moral is, your critic states that it is this--that when\na man feels himself becoming \"too angelic\" he should rush out and make a\n\"beast of himself.\" I cannot say that I consider this a moral. The real\nmoral of the story is that all excess, as well as all renunciation,\nbrings its punishment, and this moral is so far artistically and\ndeliberately suppressed that it does not enunciate its law as a general\nprinciple, but realises itself purely in the lives of individuals, and\nso becomes simply a dramatic element in a work of art, and not the\nobject of the work of art itself.\n\nYour critic also falls into error when he says that Dorian Gray, having\na \"cool, calculating, conscienceless character,\" was inconsistent when\nhe destroyed the picture of his own soul, on the ground that the picture\ndid not become less hideous after he had done what, in his vanity, he\nhad considered his first good action. Dorian Gray has not got a cool,\ncalculating, conscienceless character at all. On the contrary, he is\nextremely impulsive, absurdly romantic, and is haunted all through his\nlife by an exaggerated sense of conscience which mars his pleasures for\nhim and warns him that youth and enjoyment are not everything in the\nworld. It is finally to get rid of the conscience that had dogged his\nsteps from year to year that he destroys the picture; and thus in his\nattempt to kill conscience Dorian Gray kills himself.\n\nYour critic then talks about \"obtrusively cheap scholarship.\" Now,\nwhatever a scholar writes is sure to display scholarship in the\ndistinction of style and the fine use of language; but my story contains\nno learned or pseudo-learned discussions, and the only literary books\nthat it alludes to are books that any fairly educated reader may be\nsupposed to be acquainted with, such as the \"Satyricon\" of Petronius\nArbiter, or Gautier's \"Emaux et Cam\u00e9es.\" Such books as Le Conso's\n\"Clericalis Disciplina\" belong not to culture, but to curiosity. Anybody\nmay be excused for not knowing them.\n\nFinally, let me say this--the \u00e6sthetic movement produced certain curious\ncolours, subtle in their loveliness and fascinating in their almost\nmystical tone. They were, and are, our reaction against the crude\nprimaries of a doubtless more respectable but certainly less cultivated\nage. My story is an essay on decorative art. It re-acts against the\ncrude brutality of plain realism. It is poisonous, if you like, but you\ncannot deny that it is also perfect, and perfection is what we artists\naim at.\n\nI remain, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\n                             OSCAR WILDE.\n\n16, Tite Street, June 30th.\n\n\n[12] July 2nd, 1890.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_We allow absolute freedom to the journalist, and entirely limit the\nartist. English public opinion, that is to say, tries to constrain and\nimpede and warp the man who makes things that are beautiful in effect,\nand compels the journalist to retail things that are ugly, or\ndisgusting, or revolting in fact, so that we have the most serious\njournalists in the world, and the most indecent newspapers._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"THE SCOTS OBSERVER'S\" REVIEW.\n\n\nThe following diatribe is from a journal, _The Scots Observer_[13],\nwhich had an ephemeral existence in the early 'nineties. Under the\nheading of \"Reviews and Magazines\" it launched forth in these words:--\n\n     \"Why go grubbing in muck heaps? The world is fair, and the\n     proportion of healthy-minded men and honest women to those that are\n     foul, fallen or unnatural is great. Mr. Oscar Wilde has again been\n     writing stuff that were better unwritten; and while \"The Picture of\n     Dorian Gray,\" which he contributes to _Lippincott's_, is ingenious,\n     interesting, full of cleverness, and plainly the work of a man of\n     letters, it is false art for its interest is medico-legal; it is\n     false to human nature--for its hero is a devil; it is false to\n     morality--for it is not made sufficiently clear that the writer\n     does not prefer a course of unnatural iniquity to a life of\n     cleanliness, health and sanity. The story--which deals with matters\n     only fitted for the Criminal Investigation Department or a hearing\n     _in camera_--is discreditable alike to author and editor.\n\n     Mr. Wilde has brains, and art, and style; but, if he can write for\n     none but outlawed noblemen and perverted telegraph-boys, the sooner\n     he takes to tailoring (or some other decent trade) the better for\n     his own reputation and the public morals.\"\n\n\n[13] July 5th, 1890.\n\n_The Scots Observer_ was edited by W.E. Henley. It was violently Tory in\ncharacter, and afterwards became _The National Observer_, but not even a\nre-christening could save it from an early death.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_We are dominated by journalism.... Journalism governs for ever and\never._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOSCAR WILDE'S REPLIES.\n\n\nTo this vulgar abuse Wilde condescended to reply in the following\nterms:--\n\n                                             16, Tite Street, Chelsea,\n\n                                                       9th July, 1890.\n\nSir,--You have published a review of my story, \"The Picture of Dorian\nGray.\" As this review is grossly unjust to me as an artist, I ask you to\nallow me to exercise in your columns my right of reply.\n\nYour reviewer, Sir, while admitting that the story in question is\n\"plainly the work of a man of letters,\" the work of one who has \"brains,\nand art, and style,\" yet suggests, and apparently in all seriousness,\nthat I have written it in order that it should be read by the most\ndepraved members of the criminal and illiterate classes. Now, Sir, I do\nnot suppose that the criminal and illiterate classes ever read anything\nexcept newspapers. They are certainly not likely to be able to\nunderstand anything of mine. So let them pass, and on the broad question\nof why a man of letters writes at all let me say this.\n\nThe pleasure that one has in creating a work of art is a purely personal\npleasure, and it is for the sake of this pleasure that one creates. The\nartist works with his eye on the object. Nothing else interests him.\nWhat people are likely to say does not even occur to him.\n\nHe is fascinated by what he has in hand. He is indifferent to others. I\nwrite because it gives me the greatest possible artistic pleasure to\nwrite. If my work pleases the few, I am gratified. If it does not, it\ncauses me no pain. As for the mob, I have no desire to be a popular\nnovelist. It is far too easy.\n\nYour critic then, Sir, commits the absolutely unpardonable crime of\ntrying to confuse the artist with his subject-matter. For this, Sir,\nthere is no excuse at all.\n\nOf one who is the greatest figure in the world's literature since Greek\ndays, Keats remarked that he had as much pleasure in conceiving the evil\nas he had in conceiving the good. Let your reviewer, Sir, consider the\nbearings of Keats' criticism, for it is under these conditions that\nevery artist works. One stands remote from one's subject-matter. One\ncreates it, and one contemplates it. The further away the subject-matter\nis, the more freely can the artist work.\n\nYour reviewer suggests that I do not make it sufficiently clear whether\nI prefer virtue to wickedness or wickedness to virtue. An artist, Sir,\nhas no ethical sympathies at all. Virtue and wickedness are to him\nsimply what the colours on his palette are to the painter. They are no\nmore, and they are no less. He sees that by their means a certain\nartistic effect can be produced and he produces it. Iago may be morally\nhorrible and Imogen stainlessly pure. Shakespeare, as Keats said, had as\nmuch delight in creating the one as he had in creating the other.\n\nIt was necessary, Sir, for the dramatic development of this story, to\nsurround Dorian Gray with an atmosphere of moral corruption. Otherwise\nthe story would have had no meaning and the plot no issue. To keep this\natmosphere vague and indeterminate and wonderful was the aim of the\nartist who wrote the story. I claim, Sir, that he has succeeded. Each\nman sees his own sin in Dorian Gray. What Dorian Gray's sins are no one\nknows. He who finds them has brought them.\n\nIn conclusion, Sir, let me say how really deeply I regret that you\nshould have permitted such a notice, as the one I feel constrained to\nwrite on, to have appeared in your paper. That the editor of the _St.\nJames's Gazette_ should have employed Caliban as his art-critic was\npossibly natural. The editor of the _Scots Observer_ should not have\nallowed Thersites to make mows in his reviews. It is unworthy of so\ndistinguished a man of letters.\n\nI am, etc.,\n\n                           OSCAR WILDE.\n\nTo this letter the following editorial note was added:--\n\n     It was not to be expected that Mr. Wilde would agree with his\n     reviewer as to the artistic merit of his booklet. Let it be\n     conceded to him that he has succeeded in surrounding his hero with\n     such an atmosphere as he describes. This is his reward. It is none\n     the less legitimate for a critic to hold and to express the opinion\n     that no treatment, however skilful, can make the atmosphere\n     tolerable to his readers. That is his punishment. No doubt, it is\n     the artist's privilege to be nasty; but he must exercise that\n     privilege at his peril.\n\nDuring the next two weeks various correspondents aired their views on\nthe subject, and in the third week[14] Oscar Wilde replied to them\nthus:--\n\nSir,--In a letter, dealing with the relations of art to morals,\npublished in your columns--a letter which I may say seems to me in many\nrespects admirable, especially in its insistence on the right of the\nartist to select his own subject-matter--Mr. Charles Whibley suggests\nthat it must be peculiarly painful to me to find that the ethical import\nof \"Dorian Gray\" has been so strongly recognised by the foremost\nChristian papers of England and America that I have been greeted by more\nthan one of them as a moral reformer.\n\nAllow me, sir, to re-assure on this point not merely Mr. Charles Whibley\nhimself, but also your, no doubt, anxious readers. I have no hesitation\nin saying that I regard such criticisms as a very gratifying tribute to\nmy story. For if a work of art is rich and vital and complete, those who\nhave artistic instincts will see its beauty, and those to whom ethics\nappeal more strongly than \u00e6sthetics will see its moral lesson. It will\nfill the cowardly with terror, and the unclean will see in it their own\nshame. It will be to each man what he is himself. It is the spectator,\nand not life, that art really mirrors.\n\nAnd so in the case of \"Dorian Gray,\" the purely literary critic, as in\nthe _Speaker_ and elsewhere, regards it as a \"serious and fascinating\nwork of art\"[15]: the critic who deals with art in its relation to\nconduct, as the _Christian Leader_ and the _Christian World_, regards it\nas an ethical parable: _Light_, which I am told is the organ of the\nEnglish mystics, regards it as \"a work of high spiritual import\"[16]:\nthe _St. James's Gazette_, which is seeking apparently to be the organ\nof the prurient, sees or pretends to see in it all kinds of dreadful\nthings, and hints at Treasury prosecutions: and your Mr. Charles Whibley\ngenially says that he discovers in it \"lots of morality.\"\n\nIt is quite true that he goes on to say that he detects no art in it.\nBut I do not think that it is fair to expect a critic to be able to see\na work of art from every point of view. Even Gautier had his limitations\njust as much as Diderot had, and in modern England Goethes are rare. I\ncan only assure Mr. Charles Whibley that no moral apotheosis to which he\nhas added the most modest contribution could possibly be a source of\nunhappiness to an artist.\n\nI remain, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\n                             OSCAR WILDE\n\n\n[14] August 2nd.\n[15] See ch. PROFUSE AND PERFERVID.\n[16] See ch. \"THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY\" - A Spiritualistic Review.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_When it (the public) says a work of art is grossly unintelligible, it\nmeans that the artist has said or made a beautiful thing that is new;\nwhen it describes a work as grossly immoral, it means that the artist\nhas said or made a beautiful thing that is true. The former expression\nhas reference to style; the latter to subject-matter._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis again led to further correspondence, and after an interval of two\nweeks Oscar Wilde returned to the charges levelled against his book and\nreplied for the third and last time.[17] His letter dated from 16, Tite\nStreet, Chelsea, 13th August, 1890, was as follows:--\n\n\"Sir,--I am afraid I cannot enter into any newspaper discussion on the\nsubject of art with Mr. Whibley, partly because the writing of letters\nis always a trouble to me, and partly because I regret to say that I do\nnot know what qualifications Mr. Whibley possesses for the discussion of\nso important a topic. I merely noticed his letter because (I am sure\nwithout in any way intending it) he made a suggestion about myself\npersonally that was quite inaccurate. His suggestion was that it must\nhave been painful to me to find that a certain section of the public, as\nrepresented by himself and the critics of some religious publications,\nhad insisted on finding what he calls \"lots of morality\" in my story of\n\"The Picture of Dorian Gray.\"\n\nBeing naturally desirous of setting your readers right on a question of\nsuch vital interest to the historian, I took the opportunity of pointing\nout in your columns that I regarded all such criticisms as a very\ngratifying tribute to the ethical beauty of the story, and I added that\nI was quite ready to recognise that it was not really fair to ask of any\nordinary critic that he should be able to appreciate a work of art from\nevery point of view.\n\nI still hold this opinion. If a man sees the artistic beauty of a thing\nhe will probably care very little for its ethical import. If his\ntemperament is more susceptible to ethical than to \u00e6sthetic influences\nhe will be blind to questions of style, treatment and the like. It takes\na Goethe to see a work of art fully, completely and perfectly, and I\nthoroughly agree with Mr. Whibley when he says that it is a pity that\nGoethe never had an opportunity of reading \"Dorian Gray.\" I feel quite\ncertain that he would have been delighted by it, and I only hope that\nsome ghostly publisher is even now distributing shadowy copies in the\nElysian fields, and that the cover of Goethe's copy is powdered with\ngilt asphodels.\n\nYou may ask me, Sir, why I should care to have the ethical beauty of my\nstory recognised. I answer--simply because it exists, because the thing\nis there.\n\nThe chief merit of _Madame Bovary_ is not the moral lesson that can be\nfound in it, any more than the chief merit of _Salammb\u00f4_ is its\narch\u00e6ology; but Flaubert was perfectly right in exposing the ignorance\nof those who called the one immoral and the other inaccurate; and not\nmerely was he right in the ordinary sense of the word, but he was\nartistically right, which is everything. The critic has to educate the\npublic; the artist has to educate the critic.\n\nAllow me to make one more correction, Sir, and I will have done with Mr.\nWhibley. He ends his letter with the statement that I have been\nindefatigable in my public appreciation of my own work. I have no doubt\nthat in saying this he means to pay me a compliment, but he really\nover-rates my capacity, as well as my inclination for work. I must\nfrankly confess that, by nature and by choice, I am extremely indolent.\n\nCultivated idleness seems to me to be the proper occupation for men. I\ndislike newspaper controversies of any kind, and of the two hundred and\nsixteen criticisms of \"Dorian Gray,\" that have passed from my library\ntable into the waste-paper basket I have taken public notice of only\nthree. One was that which appeared in the _Scots Observer_. I noticed it\nbecause it made a suggestion, about the intention of the author in\nwriting the book, which needed correction. The second was an article in\nthe _St. James's Gazette_. It was offensively and vulgarly written, and\nseemed to me to require immediate and caustic censure. The tone of the\narticle was an impertinence to any man of letters.\n\nThe third was a meek attack in a paper called the _Daily Chronicle_. I\nthink my writing to the _Daily Chronicle_ was an act of pure wilfulness.\nIn fact, I feel sure it was. I quite forget what they said. I believe\nthey said that \"Dorian Gray\" was poisonous, and I thought that, on\nalliterative grounds, it would be kind to remind them that, however that\nmay be, it is at any rate perfect. That was all. Of the other two\nhundred and thirteen criticisms I have taken no notice. Indeed, I have\nnot read more than half of them. It is a sad thing, but one wearies even\nof praise.\n\nAs regards Mr. Brown's letter, it is interesting only in so far as it\nexemplifies the truth of what I have said above on the question of the\ntwo obvious schools of critics. Mr. Brown says frankly that he considers\nmorality to be the \"strong point\" of my story. Mr. Brown means well, and\nhas got hold of a half truth, but when he proceeds to deal with the book\nfrom the artistic stand-point, he, of course, goes sadly astray. To\nclass \"Dorian Gray\" with M. Zola's _La Terre_ is as silly as if one were\nto class Masset's _Fortunio_ with one of the Adelphi melodramas. Mr.\nBrown should be content with ethical appreciations. There he is\nimpregnable.\n\nMr. Cobbam opens badly by describing my letter setting Mr. Whibley right\non a matter of fact as an \"impudent paradox.\" The term \"impudent\" is\nmeaningless, and the word \"paradox\" is misplaced. I am afraid that\nwriting to newspapers has a deteriorating influence on style. People get\nviolent and abusive and lose all sense of proportion when they enter\nthat curious journalistic arena in which the race is always to the\nnoisiest. \"Impudent paradox\" is neither violent not abusive, but it is\nnot an expression that should have been used about my letter.\n\nHowever, Mr. Cobbam makes full atonement afterwards for what was, no\ndoubt, a mere error of manner, by adopting the impudent paradox in\nquestion as his own, and pointing out that, as I had previously said,\nthe artist will always look at the work of art from the stand-point of\nbeauty of style and beauty of treatment, and that those who have not got\nthe sense of beauty--or whose sense of beauty is dominated by ethical\nconsiderations--will always turn their attention to the subject-matter\nand make its moral import the test and touchstone of the poem or novel\nor picture that is presented to them, while the newspaper critic will\nsometimes take one side and sometimes the other, according as he is\ncultured or uncultured. In fact, Mr. Cobbam converts the impudent\nparadox into a tedious truism, and, I dare say, in doing so does good\nservice.\n\nThe English public likes tediousness, and likes things to be explained\nto it in a tedious way.\n\nMr. Cobbam has, I have no doubt, already repented of the unfortunate\nexpression with which he has made his _d\u00e9but_, so I will say no more\nabout it. As far as I am concerned he is quite forgiven.\n\nAnd finally, Sir, in taking leave of the _Scots Observer_, I feel bound\nto make a candid confession to you.\n\nIt has been suggested to me by a great friend of mine, who is a charming\nand distinguished man of letters (and not unknown to you personally),\nthat there have been really only two people engaged in this terrible\ncontroversy, and that those two people are the editor of the _Scots\nObserver_ and the author of \"Dorian Gray.\"\n\nAt dinner this evening, over some excellent Chianti, my friend insisted\nthat under assumed and mysterious names you had simply given dramatic\nexpression to the views of some of the semi-educated classes of our\ncommunity, and that the letters signed \"H.\" were your own skilful, if\nsomewhat bitter caricature of the Philistine as drawn by himself. I\nadmit that something of the kind had occurred to me when I read \"H.'s\"\nfirst letter--the one in which he proposed that the test of art should\nbe the political opinions of the artist, and that if one differed from\nthe artist on the question of the best way of mis-governing Ireland, one\nshould always abuse his work. Still, there are such infinite varieties\nof Philistines, and North Britain is so renowned for seriousness, that I\ndismissed the idea as unworthy of the editor of a Scotch paper. I now\nfear that I was wrong, and that you have been amusing yourself all the\ntime by inventing little puppets and teaching them how to use big words.\nWell, Sir, if it be so--and my friend is strong on the point--allow me\nto congratulate you most sincerely on the cleverness with which you have\nreproduced the lack of literary style which is, I am told, essential for\nany dramatic and life-like characterisation. I confess that I was\ncompletely taken in; but I bear no malice; and as you have, no doubt,\nbeen laughing at me up your sleeve, let me join openly in the laugh,\nthough it be a little against myself. A comedy ends when the secret is\nout. Drop your curtain and put your dolls to bed. I love Don Quixote,\nbut I do not wish to fight any longer with marionettes, however cunning\nmay be the master-hand that works their wires. Let them go, Sir, on the\nshelf. The shelf is the proper place for them. On some future occasion\nyou can re-label them and bring them out for amusement. They are an\nexcellent company, and go well through their tricks, and if they are a\nlittle unreal I am not the one to object to unreality in art. The jest\nis really a good one. The only thing that I cannot understand is why you\ngave the marionettes such extraordinary and improbable names.\n\nI remain, Sir, your obedient servant,\n\n                             OSCAR WILDE.\n\nThe correspondence continued for three weeks longer, but Oscar Wilde\ntook no further part in it.\n\n[17] August 16th.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_If a man's work is easy to understand an explanation is unnecessary,\nand if his work is incomprehensible an explanation is wicked._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPROFUSE AND PERFERVID.\n\nThe review in _The Speaker_[18] which Oscar Wilde referred to in his\nletter to _The Scots Observer_ (see par. above starting with: 'And so\nin the case of \"Dorian Gray,\"'), was as follows:--\n\nBy a stroke of good fortune, singular at this season the two stories[19]\nwhich we have taken up to review this week turn out to be--each in its\nway--of no slight interest. Of Mr. Wilde's work, this was to be\nexpected. Let it be granted, to begin with, that the conception of the\nstory is exceedingly strong.\n\nA young man of remarkable beauty, perfect in body, but undeveloped,--or\nrather, lacking altogether,--in soul, becomes the dear friend of a\npainter of genius. The artist under the spell of this friendship, is\npainting the youth's portrait. Enter to them the spirit of evil, in the\nshape of Lord Henry Wotton, an extremely \"fin de si\u00e8cle\" gentleman, who,\nby a few inspiring words, supplies, or calls into life, the boy's\nmissing soul, and it is an evil one. Henceforward, the tale develops the\ngrowth of this evil soul, side by side with this mystery--that while\nvice and debauchery write no wrinkle on the boy's face, but pass from it\nas a breath off a pane, every vile action scores its mark upon the\nportrait, which keeps accurate record of a loathsome life.\n\nIt has been insinuated that this story should be suppressed in the\ninterest of morality. Mr. Wilde has answered that art and ethics have\nnothing to do with each other. His boldness in resting his defence on\nthe general proposition is the more exemplary, as he might fairly have\ninsisted on the particular proposition--that the teaching of the book is\nconspicuously right in morality. If we have correctly interpreted the\nbook's motive--and we are at a loss to conceive what other can be\ndevised--this position is unassailable. There is, perhaps, a passage or\nso in the description of Dorian's decline that were better omitted. But\nthis is a matter of taste.\n\nThe motive of the tale, then, is strong. It is in his treatment of it\nthat Mr. Wilde has failed, and his mistakes are easy of detection.\nWhether they can be as readily corrected is doubtful. To begin with, the\nauthor has a style as striking as his matter; but he has entirely missed\nreconciling the two. There is an amateurish lack of precision in the\ndescriptive passages. They are laboured, finikin, overlaid with paint;\nand, therefore, they want vigour. \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" has been\ncompared, very naturally, with \"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde\"--and we would\ninvite Mr. Wilde to take up that story, and consider the bold, sharply\ndefined strokes with which its atmosphere and \"milieu\" are put in. Such\nbrevity as Mr. Stevenson's comes from sureness of knowledge, not want of\ncare, and is the first sign of mastery. Nor is Mr. Wilde too wordy\nalone; he is too paradoxical. Only the cook who has yet to learn will\nrun riot in truffles, We will admit at once that Lord Henry's epigrams\nare admirable examples, taken separately; but a story demands simplicity\nand proportion, and here we have neither; it demands restraint, and here\nwe find profusion only; it demands point, and here the point is too\noften obscured by mere cleverness. Lord Henry's mission in the book is\nto lead Dorian Gray to destruction; and he does so, if you please, at\nthe end of a string of epigrams.\n\nIn fact we should doubt that Mr. Wilde possessed the true story teller's\ntemperament were it not for some half a dozen passages. Here is one\nwhere, Dorian tells of his engagement to Sibyl Vane, the actress:--\n\n     \"Lips,\" he says, \"that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered\n     their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me,\n     and kissed Juliet on the mouth.\"\n\n     \"Yes, Dorian, I suppose you were right,\" said Hallward slowly.\n\n     \"Have you seen her to-day?\" said Lord Henry.\n\n     Dorian Gray shook his head. \"I left her in the forest of Arden, I\n     shall find her in an orchard in Verona.\"\n\n     Lord Henry sipped his champagne in a meditative manner. \"At what\n     particular point did you mention the word marriage, Dorian? and\n     what did she say in answer? Perhaps you forgot all about it.\"\n\n     \"My dear Harry, I did not treat it as a business transaction, and I\n     did not make any formal proposal. I told her that I loved her, and\n     she said she was not worthy to be my wife. Not worthy! why, the\n     whole world is nothing to me compared to her.\"\n\n     \"Women are wonderfully practical,\" murmured Lord Henry,--\"much more\n     practical than we are....[20]\"\n\nThe last chapter of the tale is good story telling throughout, in style\nand matter--as good as Chapter IX is bad.[21] And when Mr. Wilde\nthoroughly sees why two particular sentences in that last chapter--\"The\nPark is quite lovely now. I don't think there have been such lilacs\nsince the year I met you,\"--though trivial in themselves are full of\nsignificance and beauty in their setting he will be far on the road to\neminence in fiction. He has given us a work of serious art, strong and\nfascinating, in spite of its blemishes. Will he insist on being taken\nseriously, and go on to give us a better?\n\n[18] Vol. III., No. 27. July 5, 1890.\n\n[19] The second story was \"Perfervid: the Career of Ninian Jamieson,\" by\nJohn Davidson (Ward and Downey).\n\n[20] p. 34.\n\n[21] Chapter IX in the _Lippincott_ version is Chapter XI in later\neditions, the last chapter (XIII) being afterwards divided into two (XIX\nand XX).\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY.\"\n\nA Spiritualistic Review.\nBy \"NIZIDA.\"\n\nThe following review of \"Dorian Gray\" referred to by Oscar Wilde in his\nsecond letter to the _Scots Observer_ (see page 71) was published in the\nissue of _Light_ dated July 12th, 1890. This is \"a Journal of Psychical,\nOccult, and Mystical Research.\"\n\n\"M.A., Oxon,\" writing in the same paper a few weeks later mentions that\n\"Oscar Wilde says of _Light_ that it is 'The organ of the English\nmystics,' and adds 'I do not like that word 'organ.'\" At the same time\n\"M.A., Oxon,\" refers to the _Scots Observer_ as being \"bright, wise,\nwitty, and not at all aggressive.\"\n\nThe review is here given in its entirety:\n\nMr. Oscar Wilde has created a new character in fiction, one likely to\nabsorb public attention with a similar weird fascination to that\nproduced by the renowned Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; and with a more\nlasting and beneficial moral effect than had Mr. Stevenson's surprising\ncreation. A deeply conceived psychological study, upon entirely new\nlines, enriched by the stored wealth of a mind which has spared no pains\nin the pursuit of sensuous beauty, and which has, to all appearance,\nrevelled in deepest draughts from that sparkling and alluring fountain.\nBut what a spiritual lesson has he drawn therefrom--a lesson graphically\nand powerfully set forth in the fascinating pages which present to us\nthe life of Dorian Gray. A modern Narcissus, enamoured of his own\nbeauty, which proves a lure to draw him down into the deepest hells of\nsensual indulgence, from whence he sinks into a still deeper abyss of\ncrime.\n\nIntroduced as an innocent, rather effeminate youth of extraordinary and\nfascinating beauty, Dorian Gray has his eyes opened to the fact that he\npossesses beauty, and his slumbering vanity and egotism, awakened by the\ninsidious flatteries of a hardened cynic, spring at once into activity,\nand from that moment begins the downward course. Skilfully the author\ndepicts the budding and gradual unfolding of this baleful life-blossom\nof the animal soul, seeking only the selfish gratification of the\nsenses, refined indeed by education and artistic culture, but,\nnotwithstanding, purely animal--nay, at times, bestial. By degrees, the\nstill, small voice--the voice of the higher self which spiritually\novershadows the unsophisticated youth--is deadened in the soul. All the\nhumane, merciful, spiritually beautiful sentiments and emotions of the\nbetter nature, are strangled in their infancy, for Dorian Gray drinks so\ndeeply of the intoxicating cup of sensuous gratification, that his\nnature becomes transformed to that of a demon--beautiful outwardly, but\nwithin hideous. All this is depicted with a master hand; the underlying\nlesson, for those who can find it, being the danger to the soul which\nlies in an egotistic love and idolatrous cherishing of one's own\npersonal beauty--for male or female equally perilous. But the author by\nan ingenious device presents to us an objective image of the subjective\ntransformation gradually going on in Dorian Gray's soul, which, for\nstartling vividness and horror, surpasses the effects usually produced\nby the novelist's art.\n\nDorian Gray, whilst retaining the youthfulness, vigorous health, and\nunimpaired beauty of his external form, at the same time witnesses the\nobjective presentment of his soul's growing, loathsome hideousness; and\nits falling into diseased decrepitude, into an ugliness beyond\nconception. At first horrified by this, he becomes at length accustomed\nto it, and at certain stages of his downward course, after the\ncommission of new excesses, he repairs to this silent recorder of his\ndeeds, and unveiling it, seeks for fresh indication of the gradual decay\nand corruption which are unfailingly represented on this physical side\nof his being. As time went on--\n\n     \"He grew more and more enamoured of his own beauty, more and more\n     interested in the corruption of his own soul. He would examine with\n     minute care, and often with a monstrous and terrible delight, the\n     hideous lines that seared the wrinkling forehead, or crawled around\n     the heavy sensual mouth, wondering sometimes which were the more\n     horrible, the signs of sins or the signs of age. He would place his\n     white hands beside the coarse bloated hands of the picture, and\n     smile. He mocked the misshapen body and the failing limbs.\"[22]\n\nNever does he feel a moment of repentance. The disgusting image,\nhowever, haunts him with a terror of discovery, drawing him back from\ndistant places to assure himself of its hidden security, and to\ncontemplate it with a hideous fascination. The loathsome horror never\ndeparts from his consciousness. From its veiled seclusion it exerts over\nhim a spell of diabolical enchantment, and he knows that it is he\nhimself; but his mirror presents to his gaze the personal beauty he\ncherishes, and the world continues to be fascinated by his charm. Many\nbecome fascinated to their serious moral and spiritual injury. His\nvictims are numerous; innocent women and upright young men, who, but for\nhim, would have led virtuous, useful lives. With his beautiful\nbody--cared for as one would care for some rare exotic blossom--going\nabout the world with a charming appearance of harmlessness and even\ninnocence, he murdered souls in secret, as completely as if with his\nslender, white, taper fingers he might have clutched their throats and\nstrangled the life out of their bodies.\n\nAnd all this rottenness, all this corruption, had been proximately\ncaused by a seed dropped into a soil prepared for it--the soul left\ndoubtless from the Karma of some previous life. A seed dropped from the\nflattering tongue of Lord Henry Wotton, tended and skilfully fostered\ninto a surprising precociousness by his insidious, worthless cynicisms,\nand oracular sophistries. A man out of whose life had departed every\nwholesome savour, who poisoned the lives of others, and led them to sin,\nwhilst, apparently, he sinned not himself. As a friend once said to him,\n\"You never say a moral thing, and you never do a wrong thing. Your\ncynicism is simply a pose.\" His whole life was, however, a sin,\nconcealed behind a mask of _bonhommie_, a fashionable cheerfulness and\npleasantness of manner; a hollow _cadavre_ full of the dust and ashes of\na burnt-out life. One of Lord Henry Wotton's specious sophistries was\nthis: \"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.\" As\nwell wrap oneself confidingly in the folds of a boa-constrictor, hoping\nto save one's life thereby. Lord Henry's apt pupil, Dorian Gray,\nfollowed this advice scrupulously, only to increase the power of\ntemptation, which never after found him unwilling, until at last all of\nhis higher nature was suffocated. The author skilfully depicts the\ninsidious, baleful influence of Lord Henry Wotton, but attributes the\ncorruption of Dorian Gray's soul to a book which Lord Henry loaned him.\nHe says:--\n\n     \"The Renaissance knew of strange manners of poisoning--poisoning by\n     a helmet, and a lighted torch, by an embroidered glove, and a\n     jewelled fan, by a gilded pomander, and by an amber chain. Dorian\n     Gray was poisoned by a book. There were moments when he looked on\n     evil simply as a mode through which he could realise his conception\n     of the beautiful.\"[23]\n\nDorian Gray had conceived the idea that his life was the product of many\npreceding lives. The author causes him to make the following\nreflections:--\n\n     \"He used to wonder at the shallow psychology of those who conceive\n     the Ego in man as a thing simple, permanent, reliable, and of one\n     essence. To him, man was a being with myriad lives and myriad\n     sensations, a complex multiform creature that bore within itself\n     strange legacies of thought and passion, and whose very flesh was\n     tainted with the monstrous maladies of the dead. He loved to stroll\n     through the gaunt cold picture-gallery of his country house and\n     look at the various portraits of those whose blood flowed in his\n     veins. Here was Philip Herbert, described by Francis Osborne in his\n     _Memoirs on the Reigns of Queen Elizabeth and King James_ as one\n     who was \"caressed by the Court for his handsome face, which kept\n     him not long company.\" Was it young Herbert's life that he\n     sometimes led? Had some strange poisonous germ crept from body to\n     body till it had reached his own? Was it some dim sense of that\n     ruined grace that had made him so suddenly, and almost without\n     cause, give utterance, in Basil Hallward's studio, to that mad\n     prayer which had so changed his life? Here in gold embroidered red\n     doublet, jewelled sur-coat, and gilt edged ruff and wrist-bands,\n     stood Sir Anthony Sherard, with his silver and black armour piled\n     at his feet. What had this man's legacy been? Had the lover of\n     Giovanni of Naples bequeathed him some inheritance of sins and\n     shame? Were his own actions merely the dreams that the dead man had\n     not dared to realise? Here, from the fading canvas smiled Lady\n     Elizabeth Devereux, in her gauze hood, pearled stomacher, and pink\n     slashed sleeves. A flower was in her right hand, and her left\n     clasped an enamelled collar of white and damask roses. On a table\n     by her side lay a mandolin and an apple. There were large green\n     rosettes upon her little pointed shoes. He knew her life, and the\n     strange stories that were told about her lovers. Had he something\n     of her temperament in him? Those oval heavy-lidded eyes seemed to\n     look curiously at him. What of George Willoughby, with his powdered\n     hair and fantastic patches? How evil he looked! The face was\n     saturnine and swarthy, and the sensual lips seemed to be twisted\n     with disdain. Delicate lace ruffles fell over the lean yellow hands\n     that were so overladen with rings. He had been a macaroni of the\n     eighteenth century, and the friend, in his youth, of Lord Ferrars.\n     What of the second Lord Sherard, the companion of the Prince Regent\n     in his wildest days, and one of the witnesses of the secret\n     marriage with Mrs. Fitzherbert? How proud and handsome he was, with\n     his chestnut curls and insolent pose! What passions had he\n     bequeathed? The world had looked upon him as infamous. He had led\n     the orgies at Carlton House. The Star of the Garter glittered upon\n     his breast. Beside him hung the portrait of his wife, a pallid,\n     thin-lipped woman in black. Her blood also stirred within him. How\n     curious it all seemed!\"[24]\n\nWhat a pity Dorian did not see that the sole reason for a plurality of\nlives was that very thirst of the animal soul for the sensual pleasures\nof the material life in which he so wildly indulged, and yet with a\ndiabolical, smooth, and easy method in his madness, seeking ever the\nexternally beautiful. Beauty fled indeed before the gaunt ugliness of\ncrime; but when this happened to Dorian, he coolly turned his back and\nwent in search of new sensations.\n\n     \"And in his search for sensations that would be at once new and\n     delightful and possess that element of strangeness that is so\n     essential to romance, he would often adopt certain modes of thought\n     that he knew to be really alien to his nature, abandon himself to\n     their subtle influences, and then, having, as it were, caught their\n     colour and satisfied his intellectual curiosity, leave them with\n     that curious indifference that is not incompatible with a real\n     ardour of temperament, and that, indeed, according to certain\n     modern psychologists, is often a condition of it.\"[25]\n\nVeil it as he would, his extreme moral corruption became known, crept\nout from behind skilful concealments, and was borne by the breath of\ngossip and scandal--whispering of its enormities. He was black-balled in\na West End Club,\n\n     \"and when brought by a friend into a smoking-room of the Carlton,\n     the Duke of Berwick and another gentleman got up in a marked manner\n     and went out. Curious stories became current about him after he had\n     passed his twenty-fifth year. ... Men would whisper to each other\n     in corners, or pass him with a sneer, or look at him with cold,\n     searching eyes. Of such insolences and attempted slights, he, of\n     course, took no notice; and in the opinion of most people his frank\n     manner, his charming, boyish smile, and the infinite grace of that\n     wonderful youth that seemed never to leave him were in themselves a\n     sufficient answer to the calumnies (for so they called them) that\n     were circulated about him.\"[26]\n\nThe life at length culminates in the commission of a crime of the most\ncruel, treacherous, and dastardly character. It is successfully\nconcealed. The extraordinary coolness, even peace of mind, which Dorian\nexperiences after this deed of horror is powerfully depicted. But he\ndoes feel a few momentary, weak qualms of conscience. He spares one of\nhis victims, and he thinks of beginning a new life. Then imagining\nhimself becoming purified he longs to see how his silent recorder looks.\nHe expects to find some wonderful improvement in the aspect of the\nloathsome hidden self he has created, so he repairs to its hiding place.\nIt is more loathsome than ever, and presents new aspects of ugliness. In\na moment of supreme disgust and aversion he seizes a knife to destroy\nit. By so doing he ends his physical life.\n\nThe only occult explanation of the catastrophe which befalls him is,\nthat he commits astral suicide by the murderous attack he ignorantly\nmakes upon that which represented to him his own soul. The blow reverts\nto his physical body, and he falls dead.\n\nThere is in this book a wonderful spiritual insight into the inner life\nof the human being. Arising, in all probability from that intuition we\nall more or less possess; a sort of flash of truth upon the mind, which\nis not known at the moment to be really true, but is supposed to be the\nmere weaving of a graceful prolific fancy. A similar power lay at the\nback of Mr. R. Stevenson's creation of Dr. Jekyll, casting upon the tale\nso powerful a spiritual light, that all readers were held by the spell\nof its enchantment. The same feeling of being under a spell fills the\nreader of \"The Picture of Dorian Gray.\" The same subtle, spiritual\neffect of the _aura of evil_ flows out from the book--especially at\nthose moments when Dorian is contemplating the image of his soul's\ncorruption, not, in this instance, that the evil so powerfully felt\npoisons the mind as poor Dorian was poisoned for life by his French\nnovel; but one gets a feeling of painful horror, and sickening disgust,\nit is not easy to shake off. One seems to have glanced momentarily into\nthe deepest abysses of hell, and to have drawn back totally sickened by\na subtle effluvium. This singular power possessed by both these writers\nreveals a certain growth or development in them of the spiritual nature,\nwhich need not necessarily, as yet, convert either of these gentlemen\ninto saints, or angels, although doubtless they are both very good Men.\n\n\nThe lesson taught by Mr. Oscar Wilde's powerful story is of the highest\nspiritual import; and if it can be, not _believed_ merely, but accepted\nas a literal fact, a mysterious verity in the life of a human being,\nthat the invisible soul within the body, that alone which lives after\ndeath, is deformed, bestialised, and even murdered by a life of\npersistent evil, it ought to have the most beneficial effect upon\nsociety.\n\nLet him depict the soul as he may, except in the case of Basil Hallward,\nMr. Wilde never rises above the animal soul in man. It is the animal\nsoul alone, dominated by a refined but perverted intellect, seeking an\nanimal gratification in sensuous beauty, which he puts before us. Dorian\nGray suffocated in its infancy the only germ of spiritual soul he\npossessed.\n\n\n[22] Pp. 65, 66.\n\n[23] p. 77.\n\n[24] p. 75.\n\n[25] p. 68.\n\n[26] p. 74.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_The fact of a man being a poisoner is nothing against his prose._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Illustration]\n\nPARALLEL.\nJoe, the Fat Boy in Pickwick, startles the Old Lady;\nOscar, the Fad Boy in Lippincott's, startles\nMrs. Grundy:--\n_Oscar, the Fad Boy_: \"I want to make your flesh\ncreep!\"\n\n_Reproduced by special permission of the proprietors\nof \"Punch.\"_\n\n\n\n\nPUNCH on \"DORIAN GRAY.\"\n\n     By special permission of the Proprietors of _Punch_ the following\n     review is reproduced from the issue of that journal dated July\n     19th, 1890.\n\nOUR BOOKING OFFICE.\n\nThe Baron has read Oscar Wilde's wildest and Oscarest work, called\n\"Dorian Gray,\" a weird sensational romance, complete in one number of\n_Lippincott's Magazine_. The Baron recommends any body who revels in\n_diablerie_, to begin it about half-past ten, and to finish it at one\nsitting up; but those who do not so revel he advises either not to read\nit at all, or to choose the daytime, and take it in homoeopathic doses.\n\nThe portrait represents the soul of the beautiful Ganymede-like Dorian\nGray, whose youth and beauty last to the end, while his soul, like John\nBrown's, \"goes marching on,\" into the Wilderness of Sin. It becomes at\nlast a devilled soul. And then Dorian sticks a knife into it, as any\nordinary mortal might do, and a fork also, and next morning\n\n\"Lifeless but 'hideous,' he lay,\" while the portrait has recovered the\nperfect beauty which it possessed when it first left the artist's easel.\n\nIf Oscar intended an allegory, the finish is dreadfully wrong. Does he\nmean that, by sacrificing his earthly life, Dorian Gray atones for his\ninfernal sins, and so purifies his soul by suicide? \"Heavens! I am no\npreacher,\" says the Baron, \"and perhaps Oscar didn't mean anything at\nall, except to give us a sensation, to show how like Bulwer Lytton's\nold-world style he could make his descriptions and his dialogue, and\nwhat an easy thing it is to frighten the respectable Mrs. Grundy with a\nBogie.\" The style is decidedly Lyttonerary. His aphorisms are Wilde, yet\nforced. Mr. Oscar Wilde says of his story, \"it is poisonous if you like,\nbut you cannot deny that it is also perfect, and perfection is what we\nartists aim at.\"[27] Perhaps, but \"we artists\" do not always hit what we\naim at, and despite his confident claim to unerring marksmanship, one\nmust hazard the opinion, that in this case Mr. Wilde has \"shot wide.\"\nThere is indeed more of \"poison\" than of \"perfection\" in \"Dorian Gray.\"\n\nThe central idea is an excellent, if not exactly a novel, one; and a\nfiner art, say that of Nathaniel Hawthorne, would have made a striking\nand satisfying story of it. \"Dorian Gray\" is striking enough, in a\nsense, but it is not \"satisfying\" artistically, any more than it is so\nethically. Mr. Wilde has preferred the senuous and hyperdecorative\nmanner of \"Mademoiselle de Maupin,\" and without Gautier's power, has\nspoilt a promising conception by clumsy unideal treatment.\n\nHis \"decoration\" (upon which he plumes himself) is indeed \"laid on with a\ntrowel.\" The luxuriously elaborate details of his \"artistic hedonism,\"\nare too suggestive of South Kensington Museum and \u00e6sthetic\nEncyclop\u00e6dias. A truer art would have avoided both the glittering\nconceits, which bedeck the body of the story, and the unsavoury\nsuggestiveness which lurks in its spirit.\n\nPoisonous! Yes. But the loathly \"leperous distilment\" taints and spoils,\nwithout in any way subserving \"perfection,\" artistic or otherwise. If\nMrs. Grundy doesn't read it, the younger Grundies do; that is, the\nGrundies who belong to Clubs, and who care to shine in certain sets\nwherein this story will be much discussed. \"I have read it, and, except\nfor the ingenious idea, I wish to forget it,\" says the Baron.\n\n\n[27] See letter to _Daily Chronicle_ page 61.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_The note of doom that like a purple thread runs through the texture of\n\"Dorian Gray.\"_\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA REVULSION FROM REALISM.[28]\n\nBy ANNE H. WHARTON.\n\n\nIn all ages and climes mankind has found delight in romances based upon\nthe mystic, the improbable and the impossible, from the days when the\nNorse poets sang their Sagas through long Northern nights, and the fair\nScheherezade, under Southern moon, charmed her bloodthirsty lord by her\ntales of wonder, to our own day, when Stevenson and Crawford and Haggard\nhold fancy spellbound by their entirely improbable stories. Scott and\nBulwer played with master hands upon the love of the mysterious and\nsupernatural inherent in mankind; Dickens and others have essayed to\ngratify its demands, but with less daring, and, having an eye always on\nthe moorings of the actual, their success has been less marked. With the\nelder Hawthorne such romance-writing seemed the natural growth of an\nexquisitely sensitive and spiritual nature, while among later French\nwriters Th\u00e9ophile Gautier and Edmond About have entered into the domain\nof the impossible as into the natural heritage of their genius, sporting\nin its impalpable ether with the tuneful _abandon_ of a fish in the sea,\nor a bird in the air, hampered by no bond of the actual, weighted by no\nencumbrance of the material.\n\nIt is not strange that the great influx of realistic novels that has\nflowed in upon the last decade should be followed by a revulsion to the\nimpossible in fiction. Men and women, wearied with meeting the same\ncharacters and events in so-called romance that they encounter in\nevery-day life, or saddened by the depressing, if dramatic, pictures of\nTolstoi and the cool vivisection of humanity presented by Ibsen, turn\nwith a sense of rest and refreshment to the guidance of those who, like\nRobert Louis Stevenson and Rider Haggard, lead them suddenly into the\nmystic land of wonder, or, like Marion Crawford and Mrs. Oliphant,\ndelight to draw them, by gentle and easy stages, from the midst of a\nwell-appointed setting of every-day life into the shadowy borderland\nthat lies between the real and the unreal. Much of the success of such\nromance writing rests upon the rebound, natural to humanity, from\nintense realism to extreme ideality; more, perhaps, upon the fact that\nthis age which is grossly material is also deeply spiritual. With these\ntwo facts well in view, Mr. Oscar Wilde has fallen into line, and\nentered the lists with some of the most successful masters of fiction.\nIn his novel \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" written for the July\n_Lippincott's_, Mr. Wilde, like Balzac and the authors of \"Faust\" and\n\"John Inglesant,\" presents to us the drama of a human soul, while, like\nGautier and About, he surrounds his utterly impossible story with a\nrichness and depth of colouring and a grace and airiness of expression\nthat make the perusal of its pages an artistic delight.\n\nIf Mr. Wilde's romance resembles the productions of some of the writers\nof the French school in its reality and tone, it still more strongly\nresembles Mr. Stevenson's most powerfully wrought fairy tale, \"Dr.\nJekyll and Mr. Hyde,\" although the moral of the story is brought out\neven more plainly--as plainly, indeed, as in the drama of \"Faust.\" In\nboth Mr. Stevenson's and Mr. Wilde's stories there is a transformation\nor substitution. In one the soul of Dr. Jekyll appears under different\nexteriors; in the other some fine influence passes from the soul of\nDorian Gray into his portrait and there works a gradual and subtle\nchange upon the pictured lineaments. Although. Mr. Wilde's extravaganza\nis far less dramatic than that of Mr. Stevenson, it has the advantage of\nricher colouring and a more human setting, if we may so express it. The\ncharacters in \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" enjoy life more than Mr.\nStevenson's creations, who seem to have had so dull a time of it at the\nbest that they might have been expected to welcome a tragedy, as a\nrelief to the tedium of their daily lives. Mr. Utterson, we are told,\nwas good but he was evidently not particularly happy,[29] which was the\ncase with the other personages of the drama, with the exception of those\nwho were signally wretched. On the other hand, Mr. Wilde's characters\nare happy during their little day. Their world is a luxurious, perfumed\nland of delight, until sin transforms it, and, even after Lord Henry has\ncorrupted the nature of Dorian Gray with evil books and worldly\nphilosophy, he occasionally drinks of the waters of Lethe and enjoys\nsome fragments of what may be called happiness, while Lord Henry himself\nseems to derive a certain satisfaction from the practice of his\nMephistophelian art and in his entire freedom from the restraints of\nconscience. In a tale of the impossible it is not required that the\nwriter should be true to life, animate or inanimate, yet in the fact\nthat there are glimpses of light through the clouds that surround his\n_dramatis person\u00e6_, that they inhabit a world in which the laburnum\nhangs out yellow clusters in June, and the clematis robes itself with\npurple stars, and the sun sheds gold and the moon silver, despite the\ntragedy that touches the lives of its inhabitants, is not Mr. Wilde\nquite as true to nature as to art?\n\nThe reader may reasonably question the author's good taste in displaying\nat such length his knowledge of antique decoration and old-world crime\nas in Chapter IX,[30] which, besides being somewhat tiresome, clogs the\ndramatic movement of the story. Yet, on the other hand, it must be\nadmitted that none but an artist and an apostle of the beautiful could\nhave so sympathetically portrayed the glowing hues and perfumes of the\ngarden in which Dorian Gray had first presented to his lips the cup of\nlife, and none other could have so pictured the luxurious surroundings\nof his home, for whose embellishment the known world had been searched\nfor hangings, ornaments and _bric-\u00e0-brac_. Amid such an _entourage_ of\nmodern London life, with its Sybaritic indulgence, its keenness of wit\nand its subtle intelligence, Mr. Wilde places his characters and works\nout his miracle.\n\nViewing his own portrait, just completed by an artist friend, Dorian\nGray turns from it filled with envy and dissatisfaction, because it has\nbeen whispered in his ear that youth is the supreme possession in life,\nand that when youth and beauty have fled from his face and form this\npictured presentment will live for ever, a perpetual mockery of himself,\nwhom withering age has overtaken. Under the influence of his evil\ngenius, Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian Gray utters a prayer that he may\nalways remain young, and the portrait alone reveal the ravages of time,\nsin and sorrow. The realization of this idea is the theory of Mr.\nWilde's romance, and the air of probability with which he has endowed\nthe absolutely impossible evidences the artistic and dramatic power of\nthe writer. The portrait of Dorian Gray, painted in days of innocence\nand loveliness, when his mere presence symbolized to the artist the\nentire harmony between beauty of body and beauty of soul, changes day by\nday with the degradation of his nature, while the living Dorian Gray,\nafter years of sin, remorseless cruelty and corruption of thought and\naction, preserves all the grace and fairness of his Antinous-like youth.\n\nLove in this romance is an incident, not its crowning event, although an\nimportant incident as a revelation of the character of Dorian Gray. The\nreader never meets Sybil Vane; he merely sees her on the stage and hears\nof her from the lips of her lover; yet even thus she appeals to us as an\nexquisite personation of maidenhood with all its purity and all its\ntenderness. As shadowy an outline as the fair child whom Bulwer allows\nto captivate the imagination of Kenelm Chillingly, who caught\nbutterflies, talked philosophy and died young, yet who in her brief\ntransit across his path realized to his poetic soul all the best\npossibilities of life, spiritual and material, Sibyl Vane comes to us\ngirt about with ideal charm, to fulfil her widely different mission,\nwhich was to reveal to Dorian Gray the sad fact that his soul had passed\nbeyond her sweet and ennobling influence. His artistic and intellectual\nsenses were touched by her beauty and dramatic power, but to the beauty\nthat made her worthy to be loved, his eyes were blind, his heart was\ninsensible. The tragedy of the story, the climax of the situation, is\nnot the death of Sybil Vane, nor even the pitiless murder of the friend\nwho dared to give Dorian Gray good counsel, but the disclosure that\nDorian's soul, once open to all good influences, had, by yielding to the\nmalign domination of his evil genius, passed beyond the reach of love,\npity or remorse.\n\nIt is needless to say that Dorian Gray is not a very substantial\ncharacter. The most entertaining, though not the most exemplary,\npersonage of the story is Lord Henry Wotton, who by his preaching and\npractice of the doctrine of hedonism leads Dorian Gray into all known\nand unknown evil, until finally his darkling shadow outreaches in\ndepravity the imagination of his tempter. When his victim has sunk so\nlow in sin that the world shuns him, Lord Henry still enjoys his gay,\nconscienceless existence, and continues to utter the persiflage that\nconstitutes much of the attraction of the book as well of his society.\nDebonair, witty, learned, giving expression to aphorisms as keen as the\nsayings of Thackeray's characters, with the moral element eliminated,\nand as cynical as those of Norris, with exquisite taste and the\nfascination of a finished man of the world, Lord Henry belongs as truly,\non the material side of his nature, to the life of to-day, as he\nappertains on its spiritual side to the region of Pluto. A gay child of\nthe great London social world, he hovers airily around and about the\nemotions of life, declaring that death is the only thing that ever\nterrifies him, and that death and vulgarity are the only facts in the\nnineteenth century that one cannot explain away. The climax of Lord\nHenry's sardonic worldliness is reached when he becomes the spectator of\nhis own domesticity, if he may be said to have any, and speaks to Dorian\nof his divorce from his wife as one of the latest sensations of London,\nremarking _apropos_ of his music, \"The man with whom my wife ran away\nplayed Chopin exquisitely. Poor Victoria! I was very fond of her. The\nhouse is rather lonely without her.\"\n\nLord Henry is so entirely true to himself and the worst that is in him\nthat towards the close of the book, when Dorian announces that he is\n\"going to be good,\" and begs his friend not to poison another young life\nwith the book with which he had corrupted his, we find ourselves\ntrembling for Dorian's one remaining ally, especially when he exclaims,\n\"My dear boy, you are really beginning to moralize. You will soon be\ngoing about warning people against all the sins of which you have grown\ntired. You are much too delightful to do that. Besides, it is no use.\nYou and I are what we are, and we will be what we will be.\" Had not the\nhero stabbed himself, or his picture (which was it?) it is only a\nquestion of time how soon Dorian Gray, with the slightest obtrusion of\nconscience, would have ceased to charm him who had welcomed him as a\n_d\u00e9butant_ on the Stage of Pleasure, where, to use his favourite saying,\n\"the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.\" Dorian Gray\nstruggling against the temptations of the world would have proved an\ninartistic and disturbing element in the life of Lord Henry.\n\nAll that is needed to complete the tale is Lord Henry's own comment on\nthe highly dramatic taking-off of his friend. This chapter, Mr. Wilde,\ntrue to his artistic instinct, has not finished, preferring to leave\nappetite unappeased, rather than to create satiety by making his\nMephistopheles say precisely what one would expect him to say under the\ncircumstances.\n\n[28] _Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, September, 1890._\n\n[29] \"When we are happy we are always good, but when we are good we are\nnot always happy.\"--DORIAN GRAY, chap. vi. (Ed.)\n\n[30] Chapter XI. in the 1891 edition.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE ROMANCE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE.\n\nBy JULIAN HAWTHORNE.[31]\n\n\nFiction which flies at all game, has latterly taken to the Impossible as\nits quarry. The pursuit is interesting and edifying, if one goes\nproperly equipped, and with adequate skill. But if due care is not\nexercised, the impossible turns upon the hunter and grinds him to\npowder. It is a very dangerous and treacherous kind of wild-fowl. The\nconditions of its existence--if existence can be predicated on that which\ndoes not exist--are so peculiar and abstruse that only genius is really\ncapable of taming it and leading it captive. But the capture, when it is\nmade, is so delightful and fascinating that every tyro would like to\ntry. One is reminded of the princess of the fairy-tale, who was to be\nwon on certain preposterous terms, and if the terms were not met, the\ndiscomfited suitor lost his head. Many misguided or over-weening youths\nperished; at last the One succeeded. Failure in a romance of the\nImpossible is apt to be a disastrous failure; on the other hand, success\ncarries great rewards.\n\nOf course, the idea is not a new one. The writings of the alchemists are\nstories of the Impossible. The fashion has never been entirely extinct.\nBalzac wrote the \"Peau de Chagrin,\" and probably this tale is as good a\none as was ever written of that kind. The possessor of the Skin may have\nevery thing he wishes for; but each wish causes the Skin to shrink, and\nwhen it is all gone the wisher is annihilated with it. By the art of the\nwriter this impossible thing is made to appear quite feasible; by\ntouching the chords of coincidence and fatality, the reader's\ncommon-sense is soothed to sleep. We feel that all this might be, and\nyet no natural law be violated; and yet we know that such a thing never\nwas and never will be. But the vitality of the story, as of all good\nstories of the sort, is due to the fact that it is the symbol of a\nspiritual verity: the life of indulgence, the selfish life, destroys\nthe soul. This psychic truth is so deeply felt that its sensible\nembodiment is rendered plausible. In the case of another famous\nromance--\"Frankenstein\"--the technical art is entirely wanting: a worse\nstory from the literary point of view has seldom been written. But the\nsoul of it, so to speak, is so potent and obvious that, although no one\nactually reads the book nowadays, everybody knows the gist of the idea.\n\"Frankenstein\" has entered into the language, for it utters a perpetual\ntruth of human nature.\n\nAt the present moment the most conspicuous success in the line we are\nconsidering is Stevenson's \"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.\" The author's\nliterary skill, in that awful little parable, is at its best, and makes\nthe most of every point. To my thinking, it is an artistic mistake to\ndescribe Hyde's transformation as actually taking place in plain sight\nof the audience; the sense of spiritual mystery is thereby lost, and a\nmere brute miracle takes its place. But the tale is strong enough to\ncarry this imperfection, and the moral significance of it is so\ncatholic--it so comes home to every soul that considers it--that it has\nalready made an ineffaceable impression on the public mind. Every man is\nhis own Jekyll and Hyde, only without the magic powder. On the bookshelf\nof the Impossible, Mr. Stevenson's book may take its place beside\nBalzac's.\n\nMr. Oscar Wilde, the apostle of beauty, has in the July number of\n_Lippincott's Magazine_, a novel, or romance (it partakes of the\nqualities of both), which everybody will want to read. It is a story\nstrange in conception, strong in interest, and fitted with a tragic and\nghastly climax. Like many stories of its class, it is open to more than\none interpretation; and there are, doubtless, critics who will deny that\nit has any meaning at all. It is, at all events, a salutary departure\nfrom the ordinary English novel, with the hero and heroine of different\nsocial stations, the predatory black sheep, the curate, the settlements\nand Society. Mr. Wilde, as we all know, is a gentleman of an original\nand audacious turn of mind, and the commonplace is scarcely possible to\nhim. Besides, his advocacy of novel ideas in life, art, dress and\ndemeanour had led us to expect surprising things from him; and in this\nliterary age it is agreed that a man may best show the best there is in\nhim by writing a book. Those who read Mr. Wilde's story in the hope of\nfinding in it some compact and final statement of his theories of life\nand manners will be satisfied in some respects, and dissatisfied in\nothers; but not many will deny that the book is a remarkable one and\nwould attract attention even had it appeared without the author's name\non the title-page.\n\n\"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" begins to show its quality in the opening\npages. Mr. Wilde's writing has what is called \"colour,\" the quality that\nforms the mainstay of many of Ouida's works,--and it appears in the\nsensuous descriptions of nature and of the decorations and environments\nof the artistic life. The general aspect of the characters and the tenor\nof their conversation remind one a little of \"Vivian Gray\" and a little\nof \"Pelham,\" but the resemblance does not go far: Mr. Wilde's objects\nand philosophy are different from those of either Disraeli or Bulwer.\nMeanwhile his talent for aphorisms and epigrams may fairly be compared\nwith theirs: some of his clever sayings are more than clever,--they show\nreal insight and a comprehensive grasp. Their wit is generally cynical;\nbut they are put into the mouth of one of the characters, Lord Harry,\nand Mr. Wilde himself refrains from definitely committing himself to\nthem; though one can not help suspecting that Mr. Wilde regards Lord\nHarry as being an uncommonly able fellow. Be that as it may, Lord Harry\nplays the part of Old Harry in the story, and lives to witness the\ndestruction of every other person in it. He may be taken as an\nimaginative type of all that is most evil and most refined in modern\ncivilization,--a charming, gentle, witty, euphemistic Mephistopheles,\nwho deprecates the vulgarity of goodness, and muses aloud about \"those\nrenunciations that men have unwisely called virtue, and those natural\nrebellions that wise men still call sin.\" Upon the whole, Lord Harry is\nthe most ably portrayed character in the book, though not the most\noriginal in conception. Dorian Gray himself is as nearly a new idea in\nfiction as one has now-a-days a right to expect. If he had been\nadequately realized and worked out, Mr. Wilde's first novel would have\nbeen remembered after more meritorious ones were forgotten. But, even as\n\"nemo repente fuit turpissimus,\" so no one, or hardly any one, creates a\nthoroughly original figure at a first essay. Dorian never quite\nsolidifies. In fact, his portrait is rather the more real thing of the\ntwo. But this needs explanation.\n\nThe story consists of a strong and marvellous central idea, illustrated\nby three characters, all men. There are a few women in the background,\nbut they are only mentioned: they never appear to speak for themselves.\nThere is, too, a valet who brings in his master's breakfasts, and a\nchemist who by some scientific miracle, disposes of a human body: but,\nsubstantially, the book is taken up with the artist who paints the\nportrait, with his friend Lord Harry aforesaid, and with Dorian Gray,\nwho might, so far as the story goes, stand alone. He and his portrait\nare one, and their union points the moral of the tale.\n\nThe situation is as follows. Dorian Gray is a youth of extraordinary\nphysical beauty and grace, and pure and innocent of soul. An artist sees\nhim and falls \u00e6sthetically in love with him, and finds in him a new\ninspiration in his art, both direct and general. In the lines of his\nform and features, and in his colouring and movement, are revealed fresh\nand profound laws: he paints him in all guises and combinations, and it\nis seen and admitted on all sides that he has never before painted so\nwell. At length he concentrates all his knowledge and power in a final\nportrait, which has the vividness and grace of life itself, and,\nconsidering how much both of the sitter and of the painter is embodied\nin it, might almost be said to live. The portrait is declared by Lord\nHarry to be the greatest work of modern art; and he himself thinks so\nwell of it that he resolves never to exhibit it, even as he would shrink\nfrom exposing to public gaze the privacies of his own nature.\n\nOn the day of the last sitting a singular incident occurs. Lord Harry,\nmeeting with Dorian Gray for the first time, is no less impressed than\nwas Hallward, the artist, with the youth's radiant beauty and freshness.\nBut whereas Hallward would keep Dorian unspotted from the world, and\nwould have him resist evil temptations and all the allurements of\ncorruption, Lord Harry, on the contrary, with a truly Satanic ingenuity,\ndiscourses to the young man on the matchless delights and privileges of\nyouth. Youth is the golden period of life: youth comes never again: in\nyouth only are the senses endowed with divine potency; only then are\njoys exquisite and pleasures unalloyed. Let it therefore be indulged\nwithout stint. Let no harsh and cowardly restraints be placed upon its\nglorious impulses. Men are virtuous through fear and selfishness. They\nare too dull or too timid to take advantage of the godlike gifts that\nare showered upon them in the morning of existence; and before they can\nrealise the folly of their self-denial, the morning has passed, and\nweary day is upon them, and the shadows of night are near. But let\nDorian, who is matchless in the vigour and resources of his beauty, rise\nabove the base shrinking from life that calls itself goodness. Let him\naccept and welcome every natural impulse of his nature. The tragedy of\nold age is not that one is old, but that one is young: let him so live\nthat when old age comes he shall at least have the satisfaction of\nknowing that no opportunity of pleasure and indulgence has escaped\nuntasted.\n\nThis seductive sermon profoundly affects the innocent Dorian, and he\nlooks at life and himself with new eyes. He realizes the value as well\nas the transitoriness of that youth and beauty which hitherto he had\naccepted as a matter of course and as a permanent possession. Gazing on\nhis portrait, he laments that it possesses the immortality of loveliness\nand comeliness that is denied to him; and, in a sort of imaginative\ndespair, he utters a wild prayer that to the portrait, and not to\nhimself, may come the feebleness and hideousness of old age; that\nwhatever sins he may commit, to whatever indulgences he may surrender\nhimself, not upon him but upon the portrait may the penalties and\ndisfigurements fall. Such is Dorian's prayer; and, though at first he\nsuspects it not, his prayer is granted. From that hour, the evil of his\nlife is registered upon the face and form of his pictured presentment,\nwhile he himself goes unscathed. Day by day, each fresh sin that he\ncommits stamps its mark of degradation upon the painted image. Cruelty\nsensuality, treachery, all nameless crimes, corrupt and render hideous\nthe effigy on the canvas; he sees in it the gradual pollution and ruin\nof his soul, while his own fleshly features preserve unstained all the\nfreshness and virginity of his sinless youth. The contrast at first\nalarms and horrifies him; but at length he becomes accustomed to it, and\nfinds a sinister delight in watching the progress of the awful change.\nHe locks up the portrait in a secret chamber, and constantly retires\nthither to ponder over the ghastly miracle. No one but he knows or\nsuspects the incredible truth; and he guards like a murder-secret this\nvisible revelation of the difference between what he is and what he\nseems. This is a powerful situation; and the reader may be left to\ndiscover for himself how Mr. Wilde works it out.\n\n\n[31] _Lippincott's Monthly Magazine, September, 1890._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_ ... Pater, who is, on the whole, the most perfect master of English\nprose now creating amongst us._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWALTER PATER ON \"DORIAN GRAY.\"\n\n\nThere is always something of an excellent talker about the writing of\nMr. Oscar Wilde, (wrote Pater, in reviewing \"Dorian Gray\" for _The\nBookman_[32]) and in his hands, as happens so rarely with those who\npractise it, the form of dialogue is justified by its being really\nalive. His genial, laughter-loving sense of life and its enjoyable\nintercourse, goes far to obviate any crudity there may be in the\nparadox, with which, as with the bright and shining truth which often\nunderlies it, Mr. Wilde, startling his \"countrymen,\" carries on, more\nperhaps than any other writer, the brilliant critical work of Mathew\nArnold. _The Decay of Lying_, for instance, is all but unique in its\nhalf-humorous, yet wholly convinced, presentment of certain valuable\ntruths of criticism. Conversational ease, the fluidity of life,\nfelicitous expression, are qualities which have a natural alliance to\nthe successful writing of fiction; and side by side with Mr. Wilde's\n_Intentions_ (so he entitles his critical efforts) comes a novel,\ncertainly original, and affording the reader a fair opportunity of\ncomparing his practice as a creative artist with many a precept he has\nenounced as critic concerning it.\n\nA wholesome dislike of the common-place, rightly or wrongly identified\nby him with the _bourgeois_, with our middle-class--its habits and\ntastes--leads him to protest emphatically against so-called \"realism\" in\nart; life, as he argues, with much plausibility, as a matter of fact,\nwhen it is really awake, following art--the fashion of an effective\nartist sets; while art, on the other hand, influential and effective\nart, has taken its cue from actual life. In \"Dorian Gray\" he is true,\ncertainly, on the whole, to the \u00e6sthetic philosophy of his _Intentions_;\nyet not infallibly, even on this point: there is a certain amount of the\nintrusion of real life and its sordid aspects--the low theatre, the\npleasures and griefs, the faces of some very unrefined people, managed,\nof course, cleverly enough. The interlude of Jim Vane, his half-sullen\nbut wholly faithful care for his sister's honour, is as good as perhaps\nanything of the kind, marked by a homely but real pathos, sufficiently\nproving a versatility in the writer's talent, which should make his\nbooks popular. Clever always, this book, however, seems intended to set\nforth anything but a homely philosophy of life for the middle-class--a\nkind of dainty Epicurean theory, rather--yet fails, to some degree in\nthis; and one can see why. A true Epicureanism aims at a complete though\nharmonious development of man's entire organism. To lose the moral sense\ntherefore, for instance, the sense of sin and righteousness, as Mr.\nWilde's hero--his heroes are bent on doing as speedily, as completely as\nthey can, is to lose, or lower, organisation, to become less complex, to\npass from a higher to a lower degree of development. As a story,\nhowever, a partly supernatural story, it is first-rate in artistic\nmanagement; those Epicurean niceties only adding to the decorative\ncolour of its central figure, like so many exotic flowers, like the\ncharming scenery and the perpetual, epigrammatic, surprising, yet so\nnatural, conversations, like an atmosphere all about it. All that\npleasant accessory detail, taken straight from the culture, the\nintellectual and social interests, the conventionalities, of the moment,\nhave, in fact, after all, the effect of the better sort of realism,\nthrowing into relief the adroitly-devised supernatural element after the\nmanner of Poe, but with a grace he never reached, which supersedes that\nearlier didactic purpose, and makes the quite sufficing interest of an\nexcellent story.\n\nWe like the hero and, spite of his somewhat unsociable, devotion to his\nart, Hallward, better than Lord Henry Wotton. He has too much of a not\nvery really refined world in him and about him, and his somewhat cynic\nopinions, which seem sometimes to be those of the writer, who may,\nhowever, have intended Lord Henry as a satiric sketch. Mr. Wilde can\nhardly have intended him, with his cynic amity of mind and temper, any\nmore than the miserable end of Dorian himself, to figure the motive and\ntendency of a true Cyrenaic or Epicurean doctrine of life. In contrast\nwith Hallward the artist, whose sensibilities idealise the world around\nhim, the personality of Dorian Gray, above all, into something\nmagnificent and strange, we might say that Lord Henry, and even more\nthe, from the first, suicidal hero, loses too much in life to be a true\nEpicurean--loses so much in the way of impressions, of pleasant\nmemories, and subsequent hopes, which Hallward, by a really Epicurean\neconomy, manages to secure. It should be said, however, in fairness,\nthat the writer is impersonal; seems not to have identified himself\nentirely with any one of his characters; and Wotton's cynicism, or\nwhatever it be, at least makes a very clever story possible. He becomes\nthe spoiler of the fair young man, whose bodily form remains un-aged;\nwhile his picture, the _chef d'oeuvre_ of the artist Hallward, changes\nmiraculously with the gradual corruption of his soul. How true, what a\nlight on the artistic nature, is the following on actual personalities\nand their revealing influence in art. We quote it as an example of Mr.\nWilde's more serious style.\n\n     \"I sometimes think that there are only two eras of any importance\n     in the world's history. The first is the appearance of a new medium\n     for art, and the second is the appearance of a new personality for\n     art also. What the invention of oil-painting was to the Venetians,\n     the face of Antinous was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of\n     Dorian Gray will some day be to me. It is not merely that I paint\n     from him, draw from him, sketch from him. Of course I have done all\n     that. But he is much more to me than a model or a sitter. I won't\n     tell you that I am dissatisfied with what I have done of him, or\n     that his beauty is such that Art cannot express it. There is\n     nothing that Art cannot express, and I know that the work I have\n     done, since I met Dorian Gray, is good work, is the best work of my\n     life. But in some curious way ... his personality has suggested to\n     me an entirely new manner in art, an entirely new mode of style. I\n     see things differently. I can now recreate life in a way that was\n     hidden from me before.\"[33]\n\nDorian himself, though certainly a quite unsuccessful experiment in\nEpicureanism, in life as a fine art, is (till his inward spoiling takes\nvisible effect suddenly, and in a moment, at the end of his story) a\nbeautiful creation. But his story is also a vivid, though carefully\nconsidered, exposure of the corruption of a soul, with a very plain\nmoral, pushed home, to the effect that vice and crime make people coarse\nand ugly. General readers, nevertheless, will probably care less for\nthis moral, less for the fine, varied, largely appreciative culture of\nthe writer, in evidence from page to page, than for the story itself,\nwith its adroitly managed supernatural incidents, its almost equally\nwonderful applications of natural science; impossible, surely, in fact,\nbut plausible enough in fiction. Its interest turns on that very old\ntheme; old because based on some inherent experience or fancy of the\nhuman brain, of a double life: of D\u00f6ppelg\u00e4nger--not of two _persons_, in\nthis case, but of the man and his portrait; the latter of which, as we\nhinted above, changes, decays, is spoiled, while the former, through a\nlong course of corruption, remains, to the outward eye, unchanged, still\nin all the beauty of a seemingly immaculate youth--\"the devil's\nbargain.\" But it would be a pity to spoil the reader's enjoyment by\nfurther detail. We need only emphasise once more, the skill, the real\nsubtlety of art, the ease and fluidity withal of one telling a story by\nword of mouth, with which the consciousness of the supernatural is\nintroduced into, and maintained amid, the elaborately conventional,\nsophisticated, disabused world Mr. Wilde depicts so cleverly, so\nmercilessly. The special fascination of the piece is, of course, just\nthere--at that point of contrast. Mr. Wilde's work may fairly claim to\ngo with that of Edgar Poe, and with some good French work of the same\nkind, done, probably, in more or less conscious imitation of it.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_The Athen\u00e6um_ in reviewing \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" in its issue\nof June 27th, 1891, under the heading of \"Novels of the Week,\" said:--\n\n     Mr. Oscar Wilde's paradoxes are less wearisome when introduced into\n     the chatter of society than when he rolls them off in the course of\n     his narrative. Some of the conversation in his novel is very smart,\n     and while reading it one has the pleasant feeling, not often to be\n     enjoyed in the company of modern novelists, of being entertained by\n     a person of decided ability. The idea of the book may have been\n     suggested by Balzac's \"Peau de Chagrin,\" and it is none the worse\n     for that. So much may be said for \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" but\n     no more, except, perhaps, that the author does not appear to be in\n     earnest. For the rest, the book is unmanly, sickening, vicious\n     (though not exactly what is called \"improper\"), and tedious.\n\nMr. R.H. Sherard, in his recently published \"Life of Oscar Wilde\"\n(Werner Laurie, 1906), gives some interesting particulars as to the\nreasons which induced Wilde to write the book, while the views of a\nFrench _litt\u00e9rateur_ on \"Dorian Gray\" may be read in M. Andr\u00e9 Gide's\n\"Study,\" a translation of which, by the present editor, was issued from\nthe Holywell Press, Oxford, in 1905.\n\n\n[32] November 1891.\n\n[33] Pp. 14, 15 (1891 edition).\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_A critic cannot be fair in the ordinary sense of the word._\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTHE MORALITY OF \"DORIAN GRAY.\"\n\n\nThe question of the morality of \"Dorian Gray\" was dealt with very fully\nduring the trial of the Marquis of Queensberry for libel, and also in\nthe subsequent trials of Wilde himself, when, the libel action having\ncollapsed, Wilde was transferred from the witness-box to the dock.\n\nAt the trial of Lord Queensberry at the Old Bailey on April 3rd, 1895,\nSir Edward Clarke, in his opening speech for the prosecution, referred\nto what he called \"an extremely curious count at the end of the plea,\"\nnamely, that in July, 1890, Mr. Wilde published, or caused to be\npublished, with his name upon the title page, a certain immoral and\nindecent work, with the title of \"The Picture of Dorian Gray,\" which was\nintended to be understood by the readers to describe the relations,\nintimacies and passions of certain persons guilty of unnatural\npractices. That, said Sir Edward, was a very gross allegation. The\nvolume could be bought at any bookstall in London. It had Mr. Wilde's\nname on the title page, and had been published five years. The story of\nthe book was that of a young man of good birth, great wealth and great\npersonal beauty, whose friend paints a picture of him. Dorian Gray\nexpresses the wish that he would remain as in the picture, while the\npicture aged with the years. His wish was granted, and he soon knew that\nupon the picture and not upon his own face the scars of trouble and bad\nconduct were falling. In the end he stabbed the picture and fell dead.\nThe picture was restored to its pristine beauty, while his friends find\non the floor the body of a hideous old man. \"I shall be surprised,\" said\nCounsel in conclusion, \"if my learned friend (Mr. Carson) can pitch upon\nany passage in that book which does more than describe as novelists and\ndramatists may, nay, must, describe the passions and the fashions of\nlife.\"\n\nLord Queensberry's Counsel was Mr. (now Sir Edward) Carson, M.P. He\nproceeded, after Sir Edward's Clarke's speech, to cross-examine Mr.\nWilde on the subject of his writings.\n\nCounsel: You are of opinion, I believe, that there is no such thing as\nan immoral book?\n\nWitness: Yes.\n\nAm I right in saying that you do not consider the effect in creating\nmorality or immorality?--Certainly, I do not.\n\nSo far as your works are concerned you pose as not being concerned about\nmorality or immorality?--I do not know whether you use the word \"pose\"\nin any particular sense.\n\nIt is a favourite word of your own?--Is it? I have no pose in this\nmatter. In writing a play or a book I am concerned entirely with\nliterature, that is, with art. I aim not at doing good or evil, but in\ntrying to make a thing that will have some quality of beauty.\n\nAfter the criticisms that were passed on \"Dorian Gray\" was it modified a\ngood deal?--No. Additions were made. In one case it was pointed out to\nme--not in a newspaper or anything of that sort, but by the only critic\nof the century whose opinion I set high, Mr. Walter Pater--that a\ncertain passage was liable to misconstruction, and I made one addition.\n\nThis is in your introduction to \"Dorian Gray\": \"There is no such thing\nas a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written.\nThat is all.\"--That expresses my view of art.\n\nThen, I take it that no matter how immoral a book may be, if it is well\nwritten it is, in your opinion, a good book?--Yes; if it were well\nwritten so as to produce a sense of beauty which is the highest sense of\nwhich a human being can be capable. If it were badly written it would\nproduce a sense of disgust.\n\nThen a well-written book putting forward perverted moral views may be a\ngood book?--No work of art ever puts forward views. Views belong to\npeople who are not artists.\n\nA novel of \"a certain kind\" might be a good book?--I do not know what\nyou mean by \"a novel of a certain kind.\"\n\nThen I will suggest \"Dorian Gray\" as open to the interpretation of being\na novel of that kind.--That could only be to brutes and illiterates.\n\nAn illiterate person reading \"Dorian Gray\" might consider it such a\nnovel?--The views of illiterates on art are unaccountable. I am\nconcerned only with my view of art. I do not care twopence what other\npeople think of it.\n\nThe majority of persons would come under your definition of Philistines\nand illiterates?--I have found wonderful exceptions.\n\nDo you think the majority of people live up to the position you are\ngiving us?--I am afraid they are not cultivated enough.\n\nNot cultivated enough to draw the distinction between a good book and a\nbad book?--Certainly not.\n\nThe affection and love of the artist of \"Dorian Gray\" might lead an\nordinary individual to believe that it might have a certain tendency?--I\nhave no knowledge of the views of ordinary individuals.\n\nYou did not prevent the ordinary individual from buying your book?--I\nhave never discouraged him.\n\nMr. Carson then read an extract extending to several pages from \"Dorian\nGray,\" using the version as it appeared in _Lippincott's Magazine_[34],\ndescribing the meeting of Dorian Gray and the painter Basil Hallward.\n\"Now, I ask you, Mr. Wilde,\" added Counsel, \"do you consider that that\ndescription of the feeling of one man towards another, a youth just\ngrown up, was a proper or an improper feeling?\"--\"I think,\" replied the\nauthor, \"it is the most perfect description of what an artist would feel\non meeting a beautiful personality which was in some way necessary to\nhis art and life.\"\n\nCounsel: You think that is a feeling a young man should have towards\nanother?\n\nWitness: Yes, as an artist.\n\nMr. Carson proceeded to read another long extract. Mr. Wilde asked for a\ncopy, and was given one of the complete edition. Mr. Carson in calling\nhis attention to the place, remarked, \"I believe it was left out in the\npurged edition?\"\n\nWitness: I do not call it purged.\n\nCounsel: Yes, I know that; but we will see.\n\nMr. Carson then read a lengthy passage from \"Dorian Gray\" as originally\npublished[35], and said, \"Do you mean to say that that passage describes\nthe natural feeling of one man towards another?\"--\"It would be the\ninfluence produced on an artist by a beautiful personality,\" was the\nreply.\n\nCounsel: A beautiful person?\n\nWitness: I said \"a beautiful personality.\" You can describe it as you\nlike. Dorian Gray was a most remarkable personality.\n\nMay I take it that you, as an artist, have never known the feeling\ndescribed here?--I have never allowed any personality to dominate my\nheart.\n\nThen you have never known the feeling you describe?--No; it is a work of\nfiction.\n\nSo far as you are concerned you have no experience as to its being a\nnatural feeling?--I think it is perfectly natural for any artist to\nadmire intensely and love a young man. It is an incident in the life of\nalmost every artist.\n\nBut let us go over it phrase by phrase. \"I quite admit that I adored you\nmadly.\" What do you say to that? Have you ever adored a young man\nmadly?--No; not madly. I prefer love; that is a higher form.\n\nNever mind about that. Let us keep down to the level we are at now.--I\nhave never given adoration to any body except myself. (Loud laughter.)\n\nI suppose you think that a very smart thing?--Not at all.\n\nThen you never had that feeling?--No; the whole idea was borrowed from\nShakespeare, I regret to say; yes, from Shakespeare's sonnets.\n\nMr. Carson, continuing to read: \"I adored you extravagantly?\"--Do you\nmean financially?\n\nOh, yes, financially. Do you think we are talking about finance?--I do\nnot know what you are talking about.\n\nDon't you? Well, I hope, I shall make myself very plain before I have\ndone. \"I was jealous of every one to whom you spoke.\" Have you ever been\njealous of a young man?--Never in my life.\n\n\"I wanted to have you all to myself.\" Did you ever have that\nfeeling?--No, I should consider it an intense nuisance, an intense bore.\n\n\"I grew afraid that the world would know of my idolatry.\" Why should he\ngrow afraid that the world should know of it?--Because there are people\nin the world who cannot understand the intense devotion, affection and\nadmiration that an artist can feel for a wonderful and beautiful\npersonality. These are the conditions under which we live. I regret\nthem.\n\nThese unfortunate people, that have not the high understanding that you\nhave, might put it down to something wrong?--Undoubtedly; to any point\nthey chose. I am not concerned with the ignorance of others.\n\nIn another passage Dorian Gray receives a book.[36] Was the book to\nwhich you refer a moral book?--Not well written?\n\nPressed further upon this point, and as to whether the book he had in\nmind was not of a certain tendency, Mr. Wilde declined with some warmth\nto be cross-examined upon the work of another artist. It was, he said,\n\"an impertinence and a vulgarity.\" He admitted that he had in his mind a\nFrench book entitled _A Rebours_. Mr. Carson wanted to elicit Mr.\nWilde's view as to the morality of that book, but Sir Edward Clarke\nsucceeded, on an appeal to the Judge, in stopping any further reference\nto it.\n\nCounsel then quoted another extract[37] from the _Lippincott_ version of\n\"Dorian Gray,\" in which the artist tells Dorian of the scandals about\nhim, and finally asks, \"Why is your friendship so fateful to young men?\"\nAsked whether the passage in its ordinary meaning did not suggest a\ncertain charge, witness stated that it described Dorian Gray as a man of\nvery corrupt influence, though there was no statement as to the nature\nof his influence. \"But as a matter of fact,\" he added, \"I do not think\nthat one person influences another, nor do I think there is any bad\ninfluence in the world.\"\n\nCounsel: A man never corrupts a youth?--I think not.\n\nNothing could corrupt him?--If you are talking of separate ages.\n\nMr. Carson: No, Sir, I am talking common sense.\n\nWitness: I do not think one person influences another.\n\nYou do not think that flattering a young man, making love to him, in\nfact, would be likely to corrupt him?--No.\n\nOn the assembling of the court on the following day, Mr. Wilde, who\narrived ten minutes late, after saying to the Judge, \"My lord, pray\naccept my apologies for being late in the witness-box,\" was examined by\nSir Edward Clarke. In reference to \"Dorian Gray\" the witness said: \"Mr.\nWalter Pater wrote me several letters about it, and in consequence of\nwhat he said I modified one passage. The book was very widely reviewed,\namong others by Mr. Pater himself. I wrote a reply to the review that\nappeared in the _Scots Observer_.\"\n\nThe subject then dropped.\n\nOn the last day of Mr. Wilde's first trial at the Criminal Central\nCourt, May 1st, 1895, the Judge, Mr. Justice Charles, in his summing-up,\ndealt with \"the literary part of the case,\" and again \"Dorian Gray\" came\nunder consideration. The Judge said that a very large portion of the\nevidence of Mr. Wilde at the trial of Lord Queensberry was devoted to\nwhat Sir Edward Clarke had called \"the literary part of the case.\" It\nwas attempted to show by cross-examination of Mr. Wilde, as to works he\nhad published, especially in regard to the book called \"Dorian Gray,\"\nthat he was a man of most unprincipled character with regard to the\nrelation of men to boys. His lordship said he had not read that book,\nand he assumed that the jury had not, but they had been told it was the\nstory of a youth of vicious character, whose face did not reveal the\nabysses of wretchedness into which he had fallen, but a picture painted\nby an artist friend revealed all the consequences of his passion. In the\nend he stabs the picture, whereupon he himself falls dead, and on his\nvicious face appear all the signs which before had been upon the\npicture. His lordship did not think that in a criminal case the jury\nshould place any unfavourable inference upon the fact that Mr. Wilde was\nthe author of \"Dorian Gray.\" It was, unfortunately, true that some of\ntheir most distinguished and noble-minded writers, who had spent their\nlives in producing wholesome literature had given to the world books\nwhich were painful to persons, of ordinary modesty and decency, to read.\nSir Edward Clarke had quoted from Coleridge, \"Judge no man by his\nbooks,\" but his lordship would prefer to say \"Confound no man with the\ncharacters of the persons he creates.\" Because a novelist put into the\nmouth of his villain the most abominable sentiments it must not be\nassumed that he shared them.\n\nIt will be remembered that on this occasion the jury were unable to\nagree on a verdict as to whether Mr. Wilde was guilty or not of the\ncharges brought against him.\n\nIn the second trial, which began on May 22nd following, the subject of\nhis books was not mentioned.\n\n\n[34] Pp. 6-10.\n\n[35] Pp. 57-58.\n\n[36] p. 63, 64.\n\n[37] p. 79.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMR. ROBERT BUCHANAN ON PAGAN VICIOUSNESS.\n\n\nMr. Robert Buchanan, the well-known writer, in a letter dated April\n23rd, 1895, expressed his own views on this subject in the columns of\n_The Star_. Referring to an anonymous correspondent in the same\nnewspaper who had accused Mr. Wilde of \"pagan viciousness\"--this was\nmore than a month before a verdict of \"Guilty\" had been returned against\nhim--Mr. Buchanan asks, \"Has even a writer like this no sense of humour?\nDoes he seriously contend that the paradoxes and absurdities with which\nMr. Wilde once amused us were meant as serious attacks on public\nmorality? Two thirds of all Mr. Wilde has written is purely ironical,\nand it is only because they are now told that the writer is a wicked man\nthat people begin to consider his writings wicked.\"\n\n\"I think,\" he adds, \"I am as well acquainted as most people with Mr.\nWilde's works, and I fearlessly assert that they are, for the most part,\nas innocent as a naked baby. As for the much misunderstood \"Dorian\nGray,\" it would be easy to show that it is a work of the highest\nmorality, since its whole purpose is to point out the effect of selfish\nindulgence and sensuality in destroying the character of a beautiful\nhuman soul. But it is useless to discuss these questions with people who\nare colour-blind. I cordially echo the cry that, failing a little\nknowledge of literature, a little Christian charity is sorely wanted.\"\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nCOMPARATIVE TABLE OF CHAPTERS IN THE FIRST TWO EDITIONS OF 'THE PICTURE\nOF DORIAN GRAY'.\n\n\n1890            1891\nI                I\nII               II\n                 III\nIII              IV\n                 V\nIV               VI\nV                VII\nVI               VIII\nVII              IX\nVIII             X\nIX               XI\nX                XII\nXI               XIII\nXII              XIV\n                 XV\n                 XVI\n                 XVII\n                 XVIII\nXIII             XIX, XX\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nPASSAGES WHICH APPEAR IN THE 1890 EDITION ONLY.\n\nThe following are the chief passages in the 1890 edition which are\nomitted (or have undergone alteration) in the 1891 edition. (_The\nfigures in brackets refer to the page in the 1891 edition where the\nomission or alteration is made_).\n\n\nLIPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE, 1890 (Volume xlvi.)\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nPage\n\n6 \"Well, I will tell you what it is.\"\n\n\"Please don't.\"\n\n\"I must. I want you to explain....\" (7)\n\n6 \"Well, this is incredible,\" repeated Hallward, rather\nbitterly,--\"incredible to me at times. I don't know what it means. The\nstory is simply this....\"(8)\n\n6 You know yourself, Harry, how independent I am by nature. My father\ndestined me for the army. I insisted on going to Oxford. Then he made me\nenter my name at the Middle Temple. Before I had eaten half a dozen\ndinners I gave up the Bar, and announced my intention of becoming a\npainter. I have always been my own master.... (9)\n\n7 I knew that if I spoke to Dorian I would become absolutely devoted to\nhim, and that I ought not to speak to him. I grew afraid.... (9)\n\n7 perfectly audible to everybody in the room, something like, 'Sir\nHumpty Dumpty--you know--Afghan frontier. Russian intrigues: very\nsuccessful man--wife killed by an elephant--quite inconsolable--wants to\nmarry a beautiful American widow--everybody does now-a-days--hates Mr.\nGladstone--but very much interested in beetles: ask him what he thinks\nof Schouvaloff.' I simply fled....(11)\n\n8 'Charming boy--poor dear mother and I quite inseparable--engaged to be\nmarried to the same man--I mean married on the same day--how very silly\nof me! Quite forget what he does....(11)\n\n9 I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him every day. Of course sometimes\nit is only for a few minutes. But a few minutes with somebody one\nworships mean a great deal.\"\n\n\"But you don't really worship him?\"\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"How extraordinary. I thought you would never care for anything but your\npainting,--your art, I should say. Art sounds better, doesn't it?\"...\n(14)\n\n10 After some time he came back. \"You don't understand, Harry,\" he said.\n\"Dorian Gray is merely to me a motive in art.... (16)\n\n10 \"Because I have put into it all the extraordinary romance of which,\nof course, I have never dared to speak to him.... (16)\n\n10 I give myself away. As a rule, he is charming to me, and we walk home\ntogether from the club arm in arm, or sit in the studio.... (17)\n\n11, 12 Don't take away from me the one person that makes life absolutely\nlovely to me, and that gives to my art whatever wonder or charm it\npossesses. Mind, Harry, I trust you.\" ... (20, 21)\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n12 No wonder Basil Hallward worshipped him. He was made to be\nworshipped.... (23)\n\n16 You are a wonderful creature. You know more than you think.... (31)\n\n19, 20 \"This is your doing, Harry,\" said Hallward, bitterly.\n\n\"My doing?\"\n\n\"Yes, yours, and you know it.\" Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders (40)\n\n20 \"And you know you have been a little silly, Mr. Gray, and that you\ndon't really mind being called a boy.\"\n\n\"I should have minded very much this morning, Lord Henry.\".... (42)\n\n21 It has nothing to do with our own will. It is either an unfortunate\naccident, or an unpleasant result of temperament. Young men want....(44)\n\nCHAPTER III. (IV). 22, 23 I think my husband has got twenty-seven of\nthem.\"\n\n\"Not twenty-seven, Lady Henry?\"\n\n\"Well, twenty-six, then....\" (66)\n\n23 leaving a faint odor of patchouli behind her. Then he shook hands\nwith Dorian Gray, lit a cigarette, and flung himself down on the\nsofa.... (68)\n\n24 \"About three weeks. Not so much. About two weeks and two days.\"\n\n\"How did you come across her?\".... (70)\n\n24, 25 Its splendid sinners, and its sordid sins, as you once said....\n(71)\n\n27 thanks,--tell me what are your relations with Sibyl Vane?\".... (76)\n\n27 \"I am not surprised.\"\n\n\"I was not surprised either. Then he asked me.... (77)\n\n27 his three bankruptcies were entirely due to the poet, whom he\ninsisted on calling 'The Bard.' (78)\n\n29 You won't be able to refuse to recognize her genius. (81)\n\n\"You don't mean to say that Basil has got any passion or any romance in\nhim?\"\n\n\"I don't know whether he has any passion, but he certainly has romance,\"\nsaid Lord Henry, with an amused look in his eyes. \"Has he never let you\nknow that?\"\n\n\"Never. I must ask him about it. I am rather surprised to hear it. He is\nthe best of fellows, but he seems to me.... (82)\n\nCHAPTER IV. (VI).\n\n32 Hallward turned perfectly pale, and a curious look flashed for a\nmoment into his eyes, and then passed away, leaving them dull. \"Dorian\nengaged to be married!\" he cried. \"Impossible!\" (107)\n\n33 If a personality fascinates me, whatever the personality chooses to\ndo is absolutely delightful to me. (109)\n\nCHAPTER VI. (VIII).\n\n44 we live in age when only unnecessary things are absolutely necessary\nto us; (138)\n\n48 all the terrible beauty of a great tragedy....(148)\n\n49 I had buried my romance in a bed of poppies. (150)\n\n49 absolutely true, and it explains everything.\" (152)\n\n50 \"But suppose, Harry I became haggard, and gray, and wrinkled?\" What\nthen?\" (153)\n\nCHAPTER VII. (IX).\n\n54 Hallward felt strangely moved. Rugged and straightforward as he was,\nthere was something in his nature that was purely feminine in its\ntenderness. The lad was infinitely dear to him....\n\n56 \"Let us sit down, Dorian,\" said Hallward, looking pale and pained.\n\"Let us sit down. I will sit in the shadow, and you shall sit in the\nsunlight. Our lives are like that. Just answer me one question.\"....\n(169)\n\n56, 57 \"I see you did. Don't speak. Wait till you hear what I have to\nsay. It is quite true that I have worshipped you with far more romance\nof feeling than a man usually gives to a friend. Somehow, I had never\nloved a woman. I suppose I never had time. Perhaps, as Harry says, a\nreally '_grande passion_' is the privilege of those who have nothing to\ndo, and that is the use of the idle classes in a country. Well, from the\nmoment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence\nover me. I quite admit that I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly.\nI was jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all\nto myself. I was only happy when I was with you. When I was away from\nyou, you were still present in my art. It was all wrong and foolish. It\nis all wrong and foolish.... I did not understand it myself.... It was\nto have been my masterpiece. It is my masterpiece.... But, as I worked\nat it, ... (169, 170)\n\n57 \"Did you really see it?\"\n\n\"Of course I did.\" (172)\n\n58 And now good-by, Dorian. You have been the one person in my life of\nwhom I have been really fond. I don't suppose I shall often see you\nagain. You don't know what it cost me to tell you all that I have told\nyou.\"(172)\n\n58 But you mustn't talk about not meeting me again, or anything of that\nkind. You and I are friends, Basil (173)\n\nCHAPTER VIII (X).\n\n59 Mrs. Leaf, a dear old lady in a black silk dress, with a photograph\nof the late Mr. Leaf framed in a large gold brooch at her neck, and\nold-fashioned thread mittens on her wrinkled hands, bustled into the\nroom.\n\n\"Well, Master Dorian,\" she said, \"what can I do for you? I beg your\npardon, sir,\"--here came a courtsey,--\"I shouldn't call you Master\nDorian, any more. But, Lord bless you, sir, I have known you since you\nwere a baby, and many's the tricks you've played on poor old Leaf. Not\nthat you were not always a good boy, sir; but boys will be boys, Master\nDorian, and jam is a temptation to the young, isn't it, sir?\"\n\nHe laughed. \"You must always call me Master Dorian, Leaf. I will be very\nangry with you if you don't. And I assure you I am quite as fond of jam\nnow as I used to be. Only when I am asked out to tea I am never offered\nany. I want you to give me the key of the room at the top of the house.\"\n(175)\n\n59 He winced at the mention of his dead uncle's name.... \"That does not\nmatter, Leaf,\" he replied, \"All I want is the key.\"(176)\n\n59 \"No, Leaf, I don't. I merely want to see the place, and perhaps store\nsomething in it,--that is all. Thank you, Leaf. I hope your rheumatism\nis better; and mind you send me up jam for breakfast.\"\n\nMrs. Leaf shook her head. \"Them foreigners doesn't understand jam,\nMaster Dorian. They call's it 'compot'. But I'll bring it to you myself\nsome morning, if you lets me.\"\n\n\"That will be very kind of you, Leaf, he answered, looking at the key;\nand, having made him an elaborate courtsey, the old lady left the room,\nher face wreathed in smiles. She had a strong objection to the French\nvalet. It was a poor thing, she felt, for any one to be born a\nforeigner.\n\nAs the door closed, etc. (176)\n\n60 Mr. Ashton, himself, the celebrated frame-maker. (179)\n\n61 \"A terrible load to carry,\" murmured Dorian, (180).\n\n61 built by the last Lord Sherard for the use of the little nephew whom,\nbeing himself childless, and perhaps for other reasons, etc. (181)\n\n64 the French school of _D\u00e9cadents_. (186).\n\n64 \"Ah, if you have discovered that, you have discovered a great deal,\"\nmurmured Lord Henry, with his curious smile. \"Come, let us go in to\ndinner. It is dreadfully late, and I am afraid the champagne will be too\nmuch iced.\" (188).\n\nCHAPTER X (XII.)\n\n65 no less than five large-paper copies of the first edition, (189).\n\n65 The boyish beauty that had so fascinated Basil Hallward, (190)\n\n65 an age that was at once sordid and sensuous. (190)\n\n66 That curiosity about life that, many years before, Lord Henry had\nfirst stirred in him, (190, 191)\n\n67 driving the anchorite out to herd with the wild animals.... (194)\n\n68 the half-read book that we had been studying, (195)\n\n68 re-fashioned anew for our pleasure in the darkness, (196)\n\n74 the smoking-room of the Carlton,\n\n74 Of all his friends, or so-called friends, Lord Henry Wotton was the\nonly one who remained loyal to him. (211)\n\n74 rich and charming. (212)\n\n74 the wit and beauty that make such plays charming. (212)\n\n75 Lord Sherard, the companion of the Prince Regent. (214)\n\n76 The hero of the dangerous novel. (215)\n\n76 and the chapter immediately following, in which the hero describes\nthe curious tapestries that he had had woven for him from Gustave\nMoreau's designs. (216)\n\nCHAPTER X. (XII).\n\n77 It was on the 7th of November, the eve of his own thirty-second\nbirthday. (219)\n\n79 the most dreadful things are being said about you in London,--things\nthat I could hardly repeat to you.\" (222)\n\n79 You used to be a friend of Lord Cawdor. (224)\n\n79 Dorian, Dorian, your reputation is infamous. I know you and Harry are\ngreat friends. I say nothing about that now. (226)\n\n81 You know I have been always devoted to you.\" (228)\n\n81 \"My God! don't tell me that you are infamous!\" (229)\n\n81 Don't keep me waiting.\" (229)\n\nCHAPTER XI. (XIII.)\n\n82 some scarlet on the sensual lips. (231)\n\n82 \"you met me, devoted yourself to me, flattered me.... (233)\n\n83 \"Can't you see your romance in it?\" said Dorian bitterly.\n\n\"My romance as you call it....\" (233)\n\nCHAPTER XIII. (XX.)\n\n100 He seized it, and stabbed the canvas with it, ripping the thing\nright up from top to bottom. (333)\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nBIBLIOGRAPHY.\n\n(a) ORIGINAL EDITIONS.\n(b) UNAUTHORISED EDITIONS.\n(c) TRANSLATIONS:--\n (i.) Dutch.\n(ii.) French.\n(iii.) German.\n(iv.) Italian.\n(v.) Polish.\n(vi.) Russian.\n(vi.) Swedish.\n\n\nTHE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY.\n\n\n(a) Original Editions.\n\n* I. i. LIPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. July, 1890. London: Ward, Lock &\nCo. Price 1/-. Size 9 by 6 in. The cover, printed in red and black, is\ninscribed: This Number contains a Complete Novel,/THE PICTURE OF DORIAN\nGRAY./By OSCAR WILDE./ The story occupies pages 3 to 100.\n\n* ii. LIPPINCOTT'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE. July, 1890. Philadelphia: J.B.\nLippincott & Co. Price 25 cents. Similar to above, but cover inscribed:\nThis Number contains THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY./By OSCAR\nWILDE./Complete./It contains also a title-page with THE PICTURE/OF/\nDORIAN GRAY,/by OSCAR WILDE./ Philadelphia:/J.B. Lippincott Company./\n\n* iii. FOUR COMPLETE NOVELS/BY FAMOUS AUTHORS,/FROM/\nLIPPINCOTT'S/MONTHLY MAGAZINE. /With/Short Stories,/Essays (Critical and\nBiographical), Poetry, and/Articles on Miscellaneous Subjects. /Ward,\nLock, Bowden & Co.,/ London: Warwick House, Salisbury Square, E.C./New\nYork: Bond Street./Melbourne: St. James's Street. Sydney: York Street./\n(Half-title) THE COMPLETE NOVELS IN THIS VOLUME/ Comprise the following/\n\nTHE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY. By Oscar Wilde./\n\nWHAT GOLD CANNOT BUY. By Mrs. Alexander./\n\nTHE MARK OF THE BEAST. By Katharine Pearson Woods./\n\nA MARRIAGE AT SEA. By W. Clark Russell./\n\nPp. 578. Containing the monthly parts (without wrappers or\nadvertisements), for July to October, 1890.\n\nCovers of pale blue, brown, or drab, lettered in red on front:--FOUR\nCOMPLETE/STORIES/FROM LIPPINCOTT/and in gold on back in five lines; with\nWARD, LOCK & CO./London, New York Melbourne/at bottom. All edges cut and\nplain.\n\nPage 409 (September) contains \"A Revulsion from Realism,\" by Anne H.\nWharton, and 412 \"The Romance of the Impossible,\" by Julian Hawthorne,\nthese being reviews of \"Dorian Gray.\"\n\niv. THE FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW. March 1891. London: Chapman & Hall. Price\n2/6. This number contains on pages 480-1 \"A PREFACE TO 'DORIAN GRAY,'\"\nconsisting of 23 aphorisms and epigrams. In the novel, as it appeared in\nbook form in the following\n\nJuly, another, the 13th, was added making 24 in all. It is as follows:\n_No artist is ever morbid. The artist can express everything._\n\n     In the 15th paragraph the author altered his words, _his art_ to\n     _an art_, and in the 16th paragraph the words _form_ and _feeling_\n     are no longer spelt with capital initial letters. The last word in\n     the 23rd paragraph is changed from _inordinately_ to _intensely_.\n     The Preface as revised appears in all editions of the book, which\n     contain twenty chapters.\n\nII. i. THE PICTURE OF/DORIAN GRAY./By/OSCAR WILDE./Ward, Lock and Co.,\nLondon, New York and Melbourne./1891./\n\n     The edition was limited to 250 copies (signed by the author) on\n     large sized (8-1/2 by 7 in.) Van Gelder hand-made paper, top edges\n     gilt, sides uncut. With gilt lettering, and outside wrappers,\n     designed by Charles Ricketts. Pp. vii., 334. Price 21/-.\n\nii. The same on small paper (7-1/2 by 5 in.) all edges uncut. Binding\nsimilar to the last, but with less elaborate gilt tooling. Undated.\nPrice 6/-.\n\n     The date of this edition is given in the _English Catalogue_ as\n     May, 1891, but Messrs. Ward, Lock & Co., consider July 1st as the\n     actual day of publication, though the _Athen\u00e6um_ reviewed the book\n     under \"Novels of the Week,\" on June 27. (see page 125).\n\niii. New Edition of the same (1894). Ward, Lock and Bowden. Undated.\nPrice 6/-.\n\n     This edition was prepared for publication towards the end of 1894,\n     but it was not issued. About a year later it was sold off to the\n     booksellers as a \"remainder,\" the date of his publication being\n     according to the _English Catalogue_, October, 1895.\n\n\n\nb) Unauthorised Editions.\n\n\n* III. THE PICTURE/OF/DORIAN GRAY./By/OSCAR WILDE./New York: M.J. Ivers\nand Co \"American Series,\" No. 195. Size, 7 by 4-3/4 in. Blue and white\nornamental wrappers. Dated June 22, 1890. Price 25 cents. Several\nimpressions have been issued.\n\n* IV. i. THE PICTURE OF/DORIAN GRAY./By OSCAR WILDE./New York: Geo.\nMunro's Sons. \"Seaside Library,\" No. 2143. Pocket Edition. Size 7-1/4 by\n5 in. Yellow wrappers. Dated May 11, 1895, pp. 125. Price 25 cents.\nSeveral impressions have been issued.\n\n* ii. The same. Later editions, from September, 1898, in blue and white\nornamental wrappers. The 4th impression was issued in December, 1905.\nAll are printed from stereotyped plates on coarse paper. Covers all\ndated May 11, 1895.\n\n* iii. The same. \"Savoy Series,\" No. 221. White wrappers with picture\nand lettering in brown. Cover dated 1900. The second impression was\nissued in January, 1905, but all reprints bear date 1900.\n\n* V. The same. A Novel. \"Arrow Library,\" No. 166. 12mo. Pictorial\nwrappers. New York: Street & Smith. Undated (1901).\n\n* VI. THE PICTURE/OF/DORIAN GRAY./BY/OSCAR WILDE./Privately\nPrinted/1890. Size 8-3/4 by 5-3/4 in. Light blue-grey boards, label on\nback. Uncut edges. This is an unauthorised reprint published in London\nabout 1903-4. Price from 10/6 to 21/-. Pp. 249.\n\nVII. THE PICTURE OF/DORIAN GRAY/by/OSCAR WILDE./New York: Charterhouse\nPress, 1904. Size 8-3/4 by 6-1/4 in. Limited to 800 numbered copies. Top\nedges gilt, sides uncut. Contains Publisher's note, Artist's preface,\nand a short Biography of the Author. Facing title is a full-length\nportrait of \"Dorian Gray,\" by \"Basil Hallward,\" which inspired the\nstory. Pp. xv., 334. Price $3.50c. With loose outside wrapper. The\npublisher was Donald Bruce Wallace. The edition was transferred to\nBrentano's of New York, in 1905. Price $3.00 net.\n\n     The English Copyright of _Dorian Gray_ was purchased from Ward,\n     Lock and Bowden, in January, 1905, by Charles Carrington, of Paris,\n     who has issued the following editions.\n\nVIII. THE PICTURE/OF/DORIAN GRAY/BY/OSCAR WILDE./Paris: Charles\nCarrington. Cr. 8vo, Pp. vii., 334. Blue boards, gilt lettering with\ntitle DORIAN GREY. Price 12/6. 1901.\n\nIX. i. Same Publisher. New Edition. Size 7-1/2 by 5-1/2 in. Top edges\ngilt, sides uncut. Shot green silk boards, with water-lily design in\nblack on front. Pp. vii., 327. 1905. Price 10/6.\n\nii. The same. An edition, strictly limited to 100 copies, on hand-made\npaper, from the same plates. Issued in various forms of binding. Price\n15s. No. IX. is now the \"Sole Authorised Edition.\"\n\nMr. Charles Carrington has in preparation a new edition which will\ncontain some twenty-five illustrations (seven of which will be\nfull-page) most of them engraved on wood. The artist is M. Paul Thiriat.\nThe edition, each copy of which will be numbered, Will consist of:--\n\nX. i. Library Edition. 100 copies on English antique paper, cloth bound,\n21/-.\n\nii. Seventy-five copies on English hand-made paper, bound in\nwater-coloured silk, 31/6.\n\niii. Fifty copies on Imperial Japanese vellum, with an extra set of the\nillustrations printed on China paper, \u00a33/3/-.\n\nThe size of the paper will be sm. 4to.\n\n\n\n(c) Translations.\n\n\n(i) Dutch.\n\nXI. HET PORTRET VAN/DORIAN GRAY/DOOR/OSCAR WILDE/VERTAALD DOOR/ MEVROUW\nLOUIS COUPERUS /EERSTE (_& Tweede_) DEEL (_fleuron_)/AMSTERDAM L.J.\nVEEN./\n\n2 vols., 8vo size, 7-7/8 by 5-1/2 in. Grey wove paper wrappers,\ndecorated with bands and printed in blue on front, back and ends.\nPrinted on wove paper with edges untrimmed.\n\nVol. I., pages 1-159 (Chapters I.-VIII.), Vol. II., pages 1-160\n(Chapters numbered I.-XI.). Last page is dated \"Den Haag, Febr., '93.\"\nThe Preface is omitted. In wrappers, price _fl_.3.25, cloth _fl_.3.90.\n\n\n(ii) French\n\nXII. i. LE PORTRAIT/DE/DORIAN GRAY./ (Traduit de l'Anglais). Paris\nAlbert Savine, \u00e9diteur, 12, rue des Pyramides, 12, 1895. Size 7-1/4 by\n4-1/2 in. Yellow wrappers, Pp. 316. Price 3fr. 50c. (June 1895).\n\n     The translators were Eugene Tardieu and Georges Maurevert.\n\nii. The same. Second Edition. July 1895.\n\nXIII. i. The same. Type re-set. Pp. vii., 325. Price 3fr. 50c. Yellow\nwrappers. Paris: P.V. Stock, Editeur, 27, rue de Richelieu. 1904.\n\nii. The same. Second Edition. 1904.\n\niii. The same. Third Edition. 1904 (July).\n\n\n(iii) German.\n\n* XIV. DORIAN GRAY./Von/OSCAR WILDE./Aus dem Englischen \u00fcbersetzt und\nmit einem Vorwort verschehen von Johannes Gaulke. Leipzig: Verlag von\nMax Spohr. Not dated (September 1901). Size 8-1/2 by 5-3/4 in. Pale\ngreen wrappers, uncut edges. Pp. 203. Price 3 marks; Bound 4 marks.\n\nXV. i. OSCAR WILDE/DAS BILDNIS DORIAN GRAYS./Deutsch von Felix Paul\nGreve. Minden in Westf: J.C.C. Bruns' Verlag. No date (1902). Size 7-3/4\nby 5 in. Ribbed grey wrappers. Uncut edges. Pp. vi., 367. Price 3 marks\n50 pf. Bound 4 marks 50 pf.\n\nii. The same. New Edition. DORIAN GRAYS BILDNIS, etc. (1903).\n\niii. The same (1904).\n\nThis edition has been reprinted several times.\n\nXVI. DAS BILDNIS DER DORIAN GRAY.\n\nThis is Volume II. of an edition of the Works of Oscar Wilde, in six\nvolumes, published by the Wiener Verlag; (Vienna,) 1906, under the\ngeneral title of \"Samtliche werke in Deutsche Sprache.\"\n\nGrey paper wrappers, uncut edges, 2 marks. Edition de luxe, on hand-made\npaper, limited to 100 copies, bound in crimson roan, top edges crimson,\nsides uncut, 6 marks.\n\n\n(iv) Italian.\n\nXVII. i. IL RITRATTO DI DORIAN GRAY, ROMANZO DI OSCAR WILDE. Appeared in\n_Varietas_, Milan, June, 1905, to May, 1906 (Nos. 14-25). Complete\nversion, without preface.\n\nii. DORIANO GRAY DIPINTO. VERSIONE DALL' INGLESE CON PREFAZIONE DI B.\nCHIARA. NAPOLI LIBRERIA EDITRICE BIDERI S. PIETRO A MAJELLA 17.\n\n16mo, Biblioteca Varia Bideri, No. 31. Price 2 lire.\n\niii. IL RITRATTO DI DORIANO GRAY. Romanzo. Publicato par la Ditta Remo\nSandron. Palermo, 1907.\n\n16mo. Pp. 262. Price 1 lira.\n\n\n(v) Polish.\n\nXVIII. OSCAR WILDE PORTRET DORIANA GRAY 'A Przeklad M. Kreczowska.\nWydanie \"Przeglada Tygodniowy.\" Warszawa. 1906.\n\n8vo. Pp. 327. Cena 1 rb.\n\n\n(vi) Russian.\n\nXIX. i. PORTRET DORIANA GREYA./ perevod S.Z. Izdanie W.M.\nSablina./Moskwa, 1905. 1 r. 50 c.\n\nii. New Edition, 1907\n\n* XX. PORTRET DORIANA GREYA/ perevod A. Mintzlowoi Srysoonkami M.\nDurnowa/Knigoizdatelstwo \"Griff\"/Moskwa 1906. 3 roub.\n\n\n(vii) Swedish.\n\nXXI. i. DORIAN GRAYS PORTRATT/ Af/OSCAR WILDE./Ofversattning fran\nEngelskan. af N. Selander. Stockholm: Albert Bonniers Forlag. 1905.\nSize 7-1/4 by 4-3/4 in. White wrappers (bearing etching of Wilde, by\nKelly). Pp. 307. Price 3kr.\n\nii. The same. Second Edition. 1905.\n\niii. The same. Third Edition, 1906.\n\nNOTE.--Editions marked with an asterisk(*) contain the thirteen chapters\nas originally contributed to _Lippincott's Monthly Magazine_.","title":"Oscar Wilde, Art and Morality: A Defence of \"The Picture of Dorian Gray\"","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":29307}