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 '' OUN 5: 
 
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 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
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DECORATIVE ART 
 IN AMERICA 
 
Oscar \a^ilde 
 
DECORATIVE ART 
 IN AMERICA 
 
 A LECTURE BY 
 
 OSCAR WILDE 
 
 TOGETHER WITH LETTERS 
 REVIEWS AND INTERVIEWS 
 EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 BY RICHARD BUTLER GLAENZER 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 BRENTANO'S 
 
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 Copyright, 1906, by 
 Brent ANo's 
 
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 THE DE VINNE PRESS 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGS 
 
 Introduction vii 
 
 Decorative Art in America i 
 
 Joaquin Miller, the Good Samaritan .... 17 
 Mrs. Langtry as Hester Grazebrook .... 23 
 
 "Vera" and the Drama 31 
 
 Mr. Whistler's " Ten O'Clock " 39 
 
 The Relation of Dress to Art 47 
 
 The Tomb of Keats 55 
 
 Keats' Sonnet on Blue 63 
 
 English Poetesses 71 
 
 LoOTJON Models 87 
 
 "Dorian Gray" and its Critics loi 
 
 RuDYARD Kipling and the Anglo-Indians . . .117 
 
 "A House of Pomegranates" 121 
 
 The Relation of the Actor to the Play . .127 
 
 The Censure and " Salom^ " 135 
 
 Paris, the Abode of Artists 145 
 
 Sarah Bernhardt and " Salom^ " 149 
 
 The Ethics of Journalism 153 
 
 Dramatic Critics and "An Ideal Husband" . . 161 
 Notes 
 
 Introduction I7S 
 
 Decorative Art in America 181 
 
 Joaquin Miller, the Good Samaritan 187 
 
 V 
 
VI CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Mrs. Langtry as Hester Grazebrook 193 
 
 "Vera" and the Drama 19S 
 
 Mr. Whistler's "Ten O'clock" 197 
 
 The Relation of Dress to Art 201 
 
 The Tomb of Keats 205 
 
 Keats' Sonnet on Blue 219 
 
 English Poetesses 229 
 
 London Models 241 
 
 " Dorian Gray " and its Critics 245 
 
 Mr. Kipling and the Anglo-Indians 251 
 
 " A House of Pomegranates " 253 
 
 The Relation of the Actor to the Play 255 
 
 The Censure and "Salome" 257 
 
 Paris, the Abode of Artists 261 
 
 Sarah Bernhardt and " Salome " 263 
 
 The Ethics of Journalism 265 
 
 Dramatic Critics and "An Ideal Husband " ... 269 
 Index 271 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
If it took Labonchere three columns to prove that I was forgot- 
 ten, then there is no difference between fame and obscurity. 
 
 — New York Herald, Sunday, August is, 1883. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 If we are content to accept Oscar Wilde at his 
 own final valuation and to judge him by the con- 
 fession which he has left the world in De Pro- 
 fundis, we can apply to him no better epithet than 
 The Epicurean. But confessions are at best mis- 
 leading. They are tinctured by the exaggera- 
 tions of humility. They are laden with self-abase- 
 ment proportionate to the penitent's desire for 
 absolution, rather than to the culpability of the 
 malefactor. They confuse things material with 
 things spiritual and the sins of the body with those 
 of the intellect. Fearful of half-truths, they dis- 
 close monstrous untruths, until the spirit of self- 
 immolation is glutted and the tortured soul satisfied 
 that repentance has no further penance within 
 reach. So, with Wilde, it is difficult to believe the 
 whole of the "pitiless indictment which he brings 
 against himself." Flaneur and dandy he accuses 
 
X INTRODUCTION 
 
 himself of being. ^ Flaneur and dandy he may 
 have been. But, however profitless his life, must 
 his word be wholly without purpose? Surely 
 there was something more than mere dilettantism 
 in talents so diverse, so brilliantly manifested, so 
 exquisitely elusive. For elusive, perplexing, de- 
 fiant of definition was he in all that he did — this 
 man of genius, Oscar Wilde par excellence The 
 Protean. The Protean — for we embrace the singer 
 of songs to find that we have seized upon the 
 cynic; we seek to learn the secret of worldly dis- 
 dain and discover that we are communing with the 
 prose poet ; we are roused from the lulling charm 
 of fable and delicate imagery by the mordant wit 
 of the dramatist ; with the smile still on our lips 
 we are confronted by a soul in torment. Oscar 
 Wilde, The Protean, the weaver of paradoxes — 
 himself the great paradox ! Try as we may, shall 
 we ever understand him ? " Be warned in time, 
 James ; and remain, as I do, incomprehensible. To 
 be great is to be misunderstood." ^ At all events he 
 remains unexplained and unexplainable, nor one, 
 whom his most pitiless critics have been able to 
 explain away. 
 
 Yet, if we are to approach him, as we must, with 
 a small measure of understanding, let us begin where 
 he ends in The Truth of Masks : " Not that I agree 
 
INTRODUCTION XI 
 
 with everything that I have said in this essay. There 
 is much with which I entirely disagree. The essay 
 simply represents an artistic standpoint. For in 
 art there is no such thing as a universal truth. A 
 Truth in art is that whose contradictory is also 
 true." ^ Using this dogma as a basis for argument, 
 Arthur Symons evolves the theory that Wilde was 
 " an artist in attitudes." * " And it was precisely in 
 his attitudes," he says, " that he was most sincere. 
 They represented his intentions ; they stood for the 
 better, unrealized part of himself. Thus his atti- 
 tude, towards life and towards art, was untouched 
 by his conduct." There is a kernel of truth in the 
 theory so long as emphasis be laid upon this sin- 
 cerity ; for with Wilde the attitude was not so much 
 a pose assumed as a point of view accidentally en- 
 countered. Given the new point of view, with 
 the change of perspective, new theories became not 
 only admissible, but imperative.^ Nor was incon- 
 sistency or insincerity possible to him, whose one 
 fixed star was that " art never expresses anything 
 but itself." ^ But not only was he sincere in his at- 
 titudes; he was sincere concerning his attitudes. 
 "What people call insincerity," he says in The 
 Critic as Artist, " is simply a method by which we 
 can multiply our personalities." Were this exam- 
 ple a random citation, it might carry little weight. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 But Wilde proceeds to say in the same essay, " To 
 know anything about oneself, one must know all 
 about others. There must be no mood with which 
 one cannot sympathize, no dead mode of life that 
 one cannot make alive. . . . Man is least himself 
 when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, 
 and he will tell you the truth." '' This, perhaps, is a 
 key to the secret. That he intentionally adopted 
 the shell of different personalities, is improbable. 
 What seems unquestionable, however, is this as- 
 sumption of certain quite distinct roles, which col- 
 oured not only his life but his written word. And 
 so a trait, unconscious at first, through mere repeti- 
 tion became self-conscious — deliberate, it may be — 
 thereby substantiating the theory which he pro- 
 pounds. This much is certain. When he posed as 
 an idealist, he was laughed at for a fool ; when he 
 posed as a cynic, he was applauded for a wit. But 
 then the public could gain something from the pose 
 of 1882, and had nothing to gain from that of 1892. 
 " All art is quite useless," * he says. Was it in 
 consolation or self-justification? Again we find 
 ourselves involved in a labyrinth of paradox. And 
 so, inexplicable he remains. Yet, if a man be intel- 
 ligent enough to simulate cleverness, or sufficiently 
 gifted to exemplify genius, is he not cleverness 
 intensified, may he not be genius magnified ? 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 But this is by way of digression and bears only 
 indirectly on Wilde's literary work. His better 
 known essays, which were published in The Nine- 
 teenth Century and The Fortnightly Review at various 
 intervals from 1885 to 1890, and which, after some 
 revision, were reissued in a collected form under the 
 characteristic title of Intentions, have received 
 much of the attention which they deserve. Though 
 comparatively unnoticed upon their individual ap- 
 pearance, as a collection they not only created a 
 sensation, but received some serious consideration 
 and appreciation at the hands of the more discrimi- 
 nating critics.' At present, their great merit is so 
 generally accepted that it becomes almost platitu- 
 dinous to insist upon the wit that characterizes 
 their every phrase. Perhaps it is in these essays 
 that we find Wilde in his most brilliant mood. 
 Here we are given many of his ideas crystallized in 
 the form of epigrams — dogmas so gracefully ex- 
 pressed that it seems as if such wealth of fancy 
 could conceal no useful thought. Here is Wilde 
 more truly Protean than ever. But here also much 
 of potential utility has been polished into exqui- 
 sitely arrayed abstractions so mellifluous that they 
 do not invite serious interpretation. 
 
 But Wilde had another side: one extremely 
 practical, in which wit was made secondary to wis- 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 dom, and form to fact; and though this side is 
 emphasized more especially in his unpublished 
 personal correspondence, evidence of it may be 
 detected in his lecture on decorative art, his 
 specific criticisms, and in the majority of the letters 
 included in the following collection. Furthermore, 
 to obtain an insight into the true significance of 
 Intentions, it is essential to grasp the theories of 
 the young man who lectured on art in 1882; who 
 took issue with Whistler in 1885. For the dogmas 
 of the New Esthetics, set forth in The Decay of 
 Lying, are in a measure visionary and not a little 
 destructive, while the earlier doctrines are not only 
 constructive, but practical. In the first instance, 
 as an iconoclast, he laid bare much of the hypocrisy 
 and smug complacency of the " literary gentleman " 
 — the quasi-artist, creative and critical; in the 
 second, as a teacher, he attempted to indicate certain 
 means for improvement and to lead the way to 
 truth by the path of his own ideals. 
 
 If we examine the files of Punch of a quarter 
 of a century ago, we will find rather illumina- 
 ting references to Nincompoopiana.^'^ "Jellaby 
 Postlethwaite " from that time became so prominent 
 a personage in the world of cartoons, that in 
 the year 1882, which discovers Oscar Wilde, the 
 poet, lecturer, and soi-disant .Esthete approaching 
 
INTRODUCTION XV 
 
 the port of New York," it was difficult to scan any 
 public sheet without finding some allusion to the 
 aesthetic movement and its high-priest. In both 
 Gilbert's Patience^^ and Burnand's Colonel^^ he 
 was held up to ridicule. Puck^*^ led the van in 
 this country. Cartoon followed upon cartoon, nor 
 were there many reputable newspapers that did not 
 engage some jealous scribe to parody the poems 
 which he lacked the talent to write or the intelli- 
 gence to emulate.^' 
 
 It was under these conditions that Wilde deliv- 
 ered his lecture on The English Renaissance}^ 
 But alas, he committed the unpardonable offence 
 of appearing in a pair of breeches which descended 
 no further than his knees ! Whereupon, the sig- 
 nificance of his remarks was relegated to that level 
 by an audience whose understanding could not sur- 
 mount eccentricities of dress. His lecture, however 
 fine and worthy and beautiful as a literary pro- 
 duction, was known thenceforth as Ruskin and 
 Water. 
 
 Wilde irritated England; disturbed British sto- 
 lidity, conservatism and self-conceit. America he 
 amused. American courtesy was too superficial to 
 withstand America's sense of humour. The theo- 
 ries of a man with knickerbockers and long hair 
 were ipso facto untenable. Said The Sun in a gen- 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 erous editorial : " Why rebuff a visitor simply be- 
 cause of the fashion of his clothes? . . . There is 
 no law, social or other, that compels a man to dress 
 like every other man you meet;" " and later of his 
 lecture in Boston, " It is not a performance so tri- 
 fling as to insult the intelligence of the audience, 
 but a carefully prepared essay which proves its 
 author to be a man of cultivation, taste, imagina- 
 tion, education and refinement." ^* But this atti- 
 tude was the exception. The lecture remained 
 Ruskin and Water, and its author the mountebank. 
 So, the American public, which began by ridi- 
 culing his appearance, his clothes, and his manner- 
 isms, ended by ridiculing his opinions on art. 
 They attended his lectures, not to listen, but to 
 laugh ; and though, at the time of his discourteous 
 reception by the students of Harvard,^* he com- 
 pletely turned the tables on his tormentors and 
 earned the respect of his audience, this reaction in his 
 favour was of short duration. Once a buffoon, 
 always a buffoon. A clown, as every one knows, 
 must look to laughter for his highest reward. There 
 were dissenting voices; there were broad-minded 
 men and women who treated him as a gentleman 
 and not as a curiosity. One, indeed, John Paul, 
 had the courage to express his opinions in The New- 
 York Tribune;'" to weigh fault against virtue, to 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 weigh carefully and judiciously. He alone seems to 
 have appreciated what few people understood ; for 
 he saw that Wilde was in reality " suffering poi- 
 gnantly " from the attacks of the Press— in fact that 
 it was because of these attacks and the attitude of 
 the public, that he had, with a certain amount of 
 quixotism, exaggerated the cut of his clothes and 
 the dogmatism of those ideas which had proven 
 ridiculous or offensive to his inartistic and ultra- 
 conventional audiences. 
 
 Then came the tour in the West, which, he tells 
 us, embraced some fifty or sixty cities.^^ When he 
 returned, it was with a deeper knowledge of the 
 needs of this country. And to suggest a remedy 
 for those needs, he delivered his new lecture,^ more 
 simple in form than the first, more practical in its 
 application to the requirements of the American 
 people. As a plea for the encouragement of the 
 handicraftsman ; for the rejection of the hideously 
 naturalistic tendency in house-furnishing; for the 
 establishment of museums, enriched by the finest 
 examples from the finest periods of decorative art ; 
 for beautiful surroundings for children, and for 
 schools in which these children might develop their 
 artistic proclivities under the guidance of artists and 
 capable artisans — as a plea for all that is beautiful, 
 noble and sane in art, this lecture falls little short 
 
XVm INTRODUCTION 
 
 of being a masterpiece. As a plea only, for from 
 the standpoint of style — from Oscar Wilde's own 
 standpoint — it cannot compare with any one of the 
 Intentions. But from the standpoint of rational 
 criticism and of actual utility, it surpasses anything 
 that he has done. For once, at least, the artist 
 created something thoroughly useful, and if, ac- 
 cording to his own dictum, " we can forgive a man 
 for making a useful thing as long as he does not 
 admire it," ^^ perhaps there are many of us who, with 
 equal consistency, now admire that useful thing as 
 long as we can never forgive the man who made it. 
 For at the time that he expressed these theories 
 his suggestions, his admonitions and his hopes were 
 received with indifference, if not altogether with 
 contempt, by both the public and the Press. But 
 the Press and the public, it must be admitted, were 
 almost synonymous, so much had the former 
 moulded the latter to its uses and blunted both its 
 perception and sense of justice. To insist that this 
 lecture has revolutionized art in America, would be 
 ridiculous. To deny that its precepts have been in 
 a large measure realized, would be preposterous. 
 Perhaps Wilde was no more than one of a number 
 of influences at work for the improvement of taste. 
 But the fact that public opinion at large was so 
 thoroughly antagonistic to his views, remains, in 
 
INTRODJCTION xix 
 
 the light of succeeding events, proof positive that 
 these views were just, inevitable, and well-timed. 
 Whether they originated with him, is a matter of 
 small importance. The one important fact is that 
 he had the courage to express them. Now that we 
 have sufficient culture to accept them — at least in 
 principle — we should have the honesty, if not the 
 generosity to acknowledge our error, if not our 
 debt. 
 
 Wilde has expressed in a dozen ways the doctrine 
 that all art should be self-conscious, conventional 
 and decorative;^ that to be Art, it must be these 
 things; conversely, that the art which is uncon- 
 scious, unstudied and merely imitative— that is to 
 say, reproductive of objects in Nature — is not Art 
 at all, but a hybrid, masquerading in the garments 
 of Art. These tenets have now become postulates, 
 at least in so far as they concern interior decoration. 
 However unwelcome were the strictures he laid on 
 the crude taste displayed in the homes of England 
 and America, the justice of his criticisms may no 
 longer be questioned. He not only objected to the 
 " inane worship of Nature" ^^ as exemplified in the 
 decorative arts, more notably in tapestry and carpet, 
 but explained wherein lay the futility of that wor- 
 ship. He both appreciated and taught the niceties 
 and limitations of the mural and textile arts, the 
 
XX INTRODUCTION 
 
 charm of restraint and simplicity, and the restful- 
 ness of pattern.^* 
 
 As early as 1883, he remarked in an interview^' 
 with a New York journalist : " The French art im- 
 ported into America is not suited here ; it should 
 be costly or it will not be pretty. The Americans 
 are going back to the real, simple art that flourished 
 in the Colonial days. This is the only genuine 
 American art and will be the art of the Republic in 
 the future." This was the prediction of no dreamer. 
 Would indeed that it might have been more produc- 
 tive as a warning! For there remains to this day a 
 majority that should be restrained from innocently 
 indulging in the gilt abortions so commonly mis- 
 called French furniture. But at that period all 
 classes were equally barbarous in their want of 
 artistic refinement. In spite of this, at the end of 
 the decade a change for the better became so marked 
 that Wilde could write, " Ugliness has had its day. 
 Even in the houses of the rich there is taste ;" ^* and 
 again in 1891, " It would be quite impossible at the 
 present moment to furnish a room as rooms were 
 furnished a few years ago, without going for every- 
 thing to an auction of second-hand furniture from 
 some third-rate lodging-house. The things are no 
 longer made." ^' 
 
 In many respects, Wilde was in accord with 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 Whistler as regards the conditions of art. He has 
 even been accused of borrowing his ideas from 
 Whistler. That is absurd. It would be easier, if 
 anything, to prove the reverse. In point of time, 
 the exposition of Wilde's doctrines takes precedence 
 over that of the painter. Said Whistler in Ten 
 C Clock (1885): "Humanity takes the place of 
 Art, and God's creations are excused by their use- 
 fulness. Beauty is confounded with virtue, and, 
 before a work of Art, it is asked, 'What good shall 
 it do ? ' " Said Wilde in U Envoi to Rose Leaf and 
 Apple Leaf^" (1882): "Nor, in its primary aspect 
 has a painting, for instance, any more spiritual mes- 
 sage or meaning for us than a blue tile from the wall 
 of Damascus. ... It is a beautifully-coloured sur- 
 face, nothing more, and affects us by no suggestion 
 stolen from philosophy, no pathos pilfered from liter- 
 ature, no feeling filched from a poet, but by its own 
 incommunicable artistic essence." 
 
 In this elimination of all intellectual or ethical 
 considerations, both Whistler and Wilde were op- 
 posed to Ruskin and his school. Accordingly, from 
 the subjective point of view their beHefs were iden- 
 tical. It was from the objective point of view that 
 they differed so materially. Whistler sought to 
 isolate Art and the artist.^^ The sacred precinct of 
 Beauty and its priest were, in his eyes, beyond the 
 
Xxii INTRODUCTION 
 
 ken of the vulgar ; and beyond their reach should 
 both remain. Wilde, on the other hand, deemed it 
 praiseworthy and possible to educate the masses to 
 an appreciation of the beautiful.^^ This very position 
 was maintained and elaborated by Swinburne in his 
 spirited reply ^' to Ten G Clock in 1888. 
 
 Mr. H. W. Singer, in a recent monograph on 
 Whistler,'* refers to Wilde's attitude as "an artificial 
 enthusiasm for art," which, he goes on to say, "is 
 just as futile as its enforced exercise." Wilde him- 
 self would agree with the conclusion, if the premises 
 were true. But they are indubitably false. He 
 never exercised pressure; he never attempted to 
 "drive his following to the love of art." So, when 
 Mr. Singer adds, " For the conditions to be ab- 
 solutely healthy, the people must come of their 
 own accord," and says it presumably in confutation 
 of the fabricated doctrines of a purely imaginary 
 Wilde, he should make it impossible for the latter 
 to have written, " The truths of art cannot be taught. 
 They are revealed only — revealed to natures which 
 have made themselves receptive of all beautiful 
 impressions by the study and worship of all beau- 
 tiful things. "'' And when Mr. Singer prefaces his 
 argument by stating that "the movement inaugu- 
 rated by the latter (Wilde) spent itself in an affected 
 style of dress, and of necessity aroused the antip- 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiil 
 
 athy of every honest man," he should remember 
 that, according to the artist whom he champions, 
 ethical problems are irrelevant to art, and that all 
 expression of personal feeling merely stultifies the 
 man who mistakes such expression for logic. Mr. 
 Singer is, unfortunately, a fair example of popular 
 ignorance as regards the real theories of Wilde ; 
 and his logic, typical of the logic applied to what 
 little truth is known. But Swinburne estabHshed 
 Wilde's position, however unconsciously, when he 
 wrote, " Good intentions will not secure good re- 
 sults; but neither — strange as it may seem — will 
 the absence of good intentions.'"' At any rate, 
 Wilde refused to be deterred from the hope that 
 Beauty would ultimately become "the national 
 inheritance of all."^'' As he put it in 1890, "The 
 Creeds are believed, not because they are rational, 
 but because they are repeated."^ 
 
 But although he hoped for a national, a universal 
 acceptance of art, he demanded complete liberty 
 for the artist. " The work of art," he insisted, " is to 
 dominate the spectator; the spectator is not to 
 dominate the work of art." ^* He claimed for liter- 
 ature the same license that is granted to the Press. 
 He claimed for the stage the same freedom that is 
 granted to art, whether verbal, plastic, or pictorial. 
 He did not expect exemption from criticism, but he 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 believed that all criticism should mean something 
 more than mere approval or condemnation ; that it 
 should reflect the mood and the individuality of the 
 critic, being an impression made on him and not 
 merely an analysis made by him*" — in short, that 
 criticism should be as imaginative and creative as 
 the subject-matter it criticizes. 
 
 As in painting, so in literature he opposed the 
 authority of convention; and more especially in 
 literature, he resented the restrictions placed upon 
 subject-matter by an arbitrary standard of morals, 
 and the Puritanism of a Press, which advocated 
 these restrictions. Upon this, he dwells at some 
 length in "Dorian Gray" and its Critics. So, in 
 The Censure and " Salome'," he arraigns in a 
 masterly manner the inconsistencies by which the 
 Anglo-Saxon discriminates between what is fit and 
 unfit for stage-production. 
 
 In " Vera " and the Drama and The Relation of 
 the Actor to the Play, he confines himself to an 
 exposition of the canons of dramatic art and a 
 discussion of the limitations of the actor. And in 
 each and every instance, despite an occasional flip- 
 pancy of tone, there is always a strong undercurrent 
 of common sense, which, coupled with his inexhaus- 
 tible wit, does much to atone for his native egotism 
 and his imperturbable arrogance. On the other 
 
INTRODUCTION XXV 
 
 hand, Joaquin Miller, the Good Samaritan; Paris, 
 the Abode of Artists; and The Ethics of Journalism 
 seem at first glance to consist of very little save this 
 arrogance and egotism in their most offensive form. 
 This, however, is more apparent than real. On 
 each occasion, Wilde had been provoked beyond 
 human endurance. In the face of mere personal 
 abuse, he had a thousand times remained silent, 
 however malicious and unfounded the charges 
 made against him. It was only when his reputation 
 as an artist was attacked that he accepted a chal- 
 lenge. A little knowledge of the situation in 
 America in 1882, a realization of the injustice of 
 the Censure in 1892, and a mere glance at The 
 Shamrock of 1894, will extenuate, if not altogether 
 justify, the tone which he assumed. 
 
 The last article of this collection. Dramatic 
 Critics and "An Ideal Husband" which was not 
 the direct product of his pen, may have been 
 embeUished with slight exaggerations by the 
 chronicler, Mr. Burgess. Yet it is Wilde— Wilde 
 in his most irritating mood. It actually bristles 
 with startHng impertinences, the most inconsequen- 
 tial dogmas, the most pitiful affectations. As if 
 fearful of the future, Wilde seems to be demand- 
 ing a final opportunity to exhibit his powers 
 of verbal coloratura; an hour in which to vin- 
 
xxvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 dicate his reputation as a juggler of ideas. And 
 yet in this, as in almost everything that he wrote or 
 did, there is something of the naive child. " People 
 like myself, who have child-like, simple natures," 
 is his way of putting it, in a letter" to Leonard 
 Smithers. And Wilde knew. Perhaps, after all, it 
 was this child-like attitude which subjected him to 
 such universal misunderstanding. Certainly it was 
 with the simplicity and impetuosity of a child that 
 he first took the world into his confidence. A child 
 does not question the interest of the veriest stranger. 
 In much the same way, Wilde, delighted with new 
 vistas of art, intoxicated by the beauty of the 
 thoughts to which they gave occasion, did not hes- 
 itate to give these thoughts public expression nor 
 to hang upon them all the jewels of his fancy. But 
 the world looked upon the offering as an affecta- 
 tion, and upon his lack of reserve as an indelicacy, 
 as a want of dignity and good breeding. Now, 
 this attitude of the world rankled ; for he saw that 
 it was unjust, that it was hypocritical. Too late, he 
 learned that a man cannot be himself, however 
 much he may wish it ; that he may think anything, 
 but that he must say or do nothing that is unsanc- 
 tioned by usage. Oscar Wilde was a dreamer and 
 his dreams called forth laughter. So he cherished 
 them in secret, till they lost much of their bloom 
 
INTRODUCTION xxvii 
 
 and distilled the fatal poison that at last destroyed 
 him. And so, he who had been an idealist with a 
 loathing for the ugly, sordid things of life, became 
 a cynic whose heart still throbbed in echo to all 
 that was beautiful and good in the realm of fancy. 
 The most pitiful dreamer, the wittiest cynic and 
 the most brilliant wit of his century he remains. 
 But above all else, he will be known as the artist. 
 Max Beerbohm*^ tells us that Pater, in one of his 
 few book reviews, remarked that in Wilde's work 
 there was always " the quahty of the good talker." 
 But he was more, far more than a mere talker. He 
 was a verbal colourist, a great decorative artist, 
 whose words make as direct an appeal to the eye 
 as their sound does to the ear, or their sense to 
 the intellect. They are suggestive in themselves. 
 They are the very essence of Art. " If one loves 
 Art at all," he says, "one must love it beyond all 
 other things in the world, and against such love, 
 the reason, if one listened to it, would cry out. 
 There is nothing sane about the worship of beauty. 
 It is too splendid to be sane. Those of whose 
 lives it forms the dominant note will always seem 
 to the world to be pure visionaries."*' And with 
 Wilde it was Art that formed the dominant note. 
 Richard Butler Glaenzer. 
 
 New York, February, 1906. 
 
It will be a marvellous thing — the true personality of man — when 
 we see it. It will grow naturally and simply, flower-like, or as a 
 tree grows. It will not be at discord. It will never argue or dis- 
 pute. It will not prove things. It will know everything. And 
 yet it will not busy itself about knowledge. It will have wisdom. 
 Its value will not be measured by material things. It will have 
 nothing. And yet it will have everything ; and whatever one takes 
 from it, it will still have — so rich will it be. It will not be alwayj 
 meddling with others, or asking them to be like itself. It will love 
 them because they will be different. And yet, while it will not med- 
 dle with others, it will help all, as a beautiful thing helps us by 
 being what it is. The personality of man will be very wonderful. 
 It wiU be as wonderful as the personality of a child. 
 
 — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 There are artists of two sorts : the ones present answers ; the 
 others ask questions. It is essential to know if one is of the one 
 sort or of the other, for he who asks the questions is never the one 
 who answers them. There are certain works of art that wait long 
 for interpretation for the reason that they answer questions that 
 have not yet been asked ; for often the question comes very long 
 after the answer. —Translation from "The Sayings of Oscar Wilde!' 
 
 Pretextes by Andr6 Gide. 
 
 A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and 
 his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
And even the light of the sun will fade at the last, 
 
 And the leaves will fall, and the birds will hasten away. 
 And I will be left in the snow of a flowerless day 
 To think of the glories of Spring, and the joys long past. 
 — From 'Magdalen Walks' 
 
 Magdalen College, i8jS. 
 
 I know that every forest tree 
 By labour rises from the root ; 
 I know that none shall gather fruit 
 By sailing on the barren sea. 
 
 — From ' Lotus Leaves.' 
 
 Oxford, i8tj. 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
Art should never try to be popular. The public should try to 
 make themselves artistic. —The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 The whole history of the decorative arts in Europe is the record of 
 the struggle between Orientalism with its frank rejection of imita- 
 tion, its love of artistic convention, its dislike to the actual represen- 
 tation of any object of Nature, and our ovra imitative spirit. 
 Wherever the former has been paramount, ... we have had 
 beautiful and imaginative work in which the visible things of life 
 are transmuted into artistic conventions, and the things that Life has 
 not, are invented and fashioned for her delight. But wherever we 
 have returned to Life and Nature, our work has always become vul- 
 gar, common, and uninteresting. — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 The art that is frankly decorative is the art to live with. It is, 
 of all our visible arts, the one art that creates in us both mood and 
 temperament. IMere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with 
 definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. 
 The harmony that resides in the delicate proportions of Unes and 
 masses becomes mirrored in the mind. The repetitions of pattern 
 give us rest. — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 All good work aims at a purely artistic effect. But, as in your 
 cities, so in your literature, it is an increased sensibility to beauty 
 that is lacking. All noble work is not national merely, but universal. 
 —Lecture on the English Renaissance. iSSz. 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA: 
 A LECTURE' 
 
 In my first lecture/ I gave you something of the 
 history of Art in England. I sought to trace the 
 influence of the French Revolution upon its devel- 
 opment. I said something of the song of Keats 
 and the school of the Pre-Raphaelites. But I do 
 not want to shelter the movement which I have 
 called " The English Renaissance " under any pal- 
 ladium, however noble, or any name, however re- 
 vered. The roots of it have indeed to be sought 
 for in things that have long passed away, and not, 
 as some suppose, in the fancy of a few young 
 men — although I am not altogether sure that there 
 is anything much better than the fancy of a few 
 young men. 
 
 When I appeared before you on a previous occa- 
 sion, I had seen nothing of American art save the 
 Doric columns and Corinthian chimney-pots visible 
 on your Broadway and Fifth Avenue. Since then 
 
 3 
 
4 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 I have been through your country to some fifty or 
 sixty cities/ I think. I find what your people need 
 is not so much high imaginative art, but that which 
 hallows the vessels of every-day use. I suppose 
 that the poet will sing and the artist will paint re- 
 gardless whether the world praises or blames. He 
 has his own world and is independent of his fellow- 
 men. But the handicraftsman is dependent on your 
 pleasure and opinion. He needs your encourage- 
 ment and he must have beautiful surroundings. 
 Your people love art, but do not sufficiently honour 
 the handicraftsmen. Of course, those millionaires 
 who can pillage Europe for their pleasure need have 
 no care to encourage such ; but I speak for those 
 whose desire for beautiful things is larger than their 
 means. I find that one great trouble all over is 
 that your workmen are not given to noble designs. 
 You cannot be indifferent to this, because art is not 
 something which you can take or leave. It is a 
 necessity of human life. 
 
 And what is the meaning of this beautiful deco- 
 ration which we call art? In the first place, it 
 means value to the workman, and it means the 
 pleasure which he must necessarily take in making 
 a beautiful thing. The mark of all good art is not 
 that the thing done is done exactly or finely, for 
 machinery may do as much, but that it is worked 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 5 
 
 out with the head and the workman's heart. I can- 
 not impress the point too frequently that beautiful 
 and rational designs are necessary in all work. I 
 did not imagine until I went into some of your sim- 
 pler cities that there was so much bad work done. 
 I found where I went bad wall-papers, horribly de- 
 signed, and coloured carpets, and that old offender, 
 the horse-hair sofa, whose stolid look of indifference 
 is always so depressing. I found meaningless chan- 
 deliers and machine-made furniture, generally of 
 rosewood, which creaked dismally under the weight 
 of the ubiquitous interviewer. I came across the 
 small iron stove* which they always persist in deco- 
 rating with machine-made ornaments, and which is 
 as great a bore as a wet day or any other particu- 
 larly dreadful institution. When unusual extrava- 
 gance was indulged in it was garnished with two 
 funeral urns. 
 
 It must always be remembered that what is well 
 and carefully made by an honest workman after a 
 rational design, increases in beauty and value as the 
 years go on. The old furniture brought over by 
 the Pilgrims two hundred years ago, which I saw 
 in New England, is just as good and as beautiful 
 to-day as it was when it first came here. Now, 
 what you must do is to bring artists and handi- 
 craftsmen together. Handicraftsmen cannot live, 
 
6 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 certainly cannot thrive, without such companion- 
 ship. Separate these two, and you rob art of all 
 spiritual motive. Having done this, you must place 
 your workman in the midst of beautiful surround- 
 ings. The artist is not dependent on the visible 
 and the tangible. He has his visions and his dreams 
 to feed on. But the workman must see lovely 
 forms and beautiful forms, as he goes to his work in 
 the morning and returns at eventide. And, in con- 
 nection with this, I want to assure you that noble 
 and beautiful designs are never the result of idle 
 fancy or purposeless day-dreaming. They only 
 come as the accumulation of habits of long and 
 delightful observation. And yet such things may 
 not be taught.' Right ideas concerning them 
 can certainly only be obtained by those who have 
 been accustomed to rooms that are beautiful and 
 colours that are satisfying. 
 
 Perhaps one of the most difficult things for us to 
 do is to choose a notable and joyous dress for men. 
 There would be more joy in life if we should accus- 
 tom ourselves to use all the beautiful colours we 
 can in fashioning our own clothes. The dress of 
 the future, I think, will use drapery to a great extent 
 and will abound with joyous colour. At present 
 we have lost all nobility of dress, and in doing so, 
 have almost annihilated the modern sculptor. And 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 7 
 
 in looking around at the figures which adorn our 
 parks, one could almost wish that we had completely 
 killed the noble art. To see the frock coat of the 
 drawing-room done in bronze or the double waist- 
 coat perpetuated in marble, adds a new horror 
 to death. But indeed, in looking through the his- 
 tory of costume, seeking an answer to the questions 
 we have propounded, there is little that is either 
 beautiful or appropriate. One of the earliest forms 
 is the Greek drapery, which is so exquisite for 
 young girls. And then, I think we may be pardoned 
 a little enthusiasm over the dress of the time of 
 Charles I, so beautiful indeed, that in spite of its 
 invention being with the Cavaliers, it was copied 
 by the Puritans. And the dress for the children 
 at that time must not be passed over. It was a very 
 golden age of the little ones. I do not think that 
 they have ever looked so lovely as they do in the 
 pictures of that time. The dress of the last century 
 in England is also pecuHarly gracious and graceful. 
 There is nothing bizarre or strange about it, but it 
 is full of harmony and beauty. In these days, 
 when we have suffered so dreadfully from the 
 incursions of the modern milliner, we hear ladies 
 boast that they do not wear a dress more than 
 once." In the old days, when the dresses were 
 decorated with beautiful designs and worked with 
 
8 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 exquisite embroidery, ladies rather took a pride in 
 bringing out the garment and wearing it many 
 times and handing it down to their daughters— a 
 process which I think would be quite appreciated 
 by modern husbands when called upon to settle 
 their wives' bills. 
 
 And how shall men dress? Men say they don't 
 particularly care how they dress, and that it is little 
 matter. I am bound to reply that I do not believe 
 them and do not think that you do. In all my 
 journeys through the country, the only well-dressed 
 men that I saw — and in saying this I earnestly 
 deprecate the polished indignation of your Fifth 
 Avenue dandies — were the Western miners. Their 
 wide-brimmed hats,' which shaded their faces from 
 the sun and protected them from the rain, and the 
 cloak, which is by far the most beautiful piece of 
 drapery ever invented, may well be dwelt on with 
 admiration. Their high boots, too, were sensible 
 and practical. They wore only what was comfort- 
 able and therefore beautiful. As I looked at 
 them, I could not help thinking with regret of the 
 time when these picturesque miners should have 
 made their fortunes and would go East to assume 
 again all the abominations of modern fashionable 
 attire. Indeed, so concerned was I that I made 
 some of them promise that when they again 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 9 
 
 appeared in the more crowded scenes of Eastern 
 civilization they would still continue to wear their 
 lovely costume. But I don't believe they will' 
 ! ' Now, what America wants to-day is a school of 
 rational design. Bad art is a great deal worse than 
 no art at all. You must show your workmen speci- 
 mens of good work, so that they may come to know 
 what is simple and true and beautiful. To that end 
 I would have you have a museum attached to these 
 schools — not one of those dreadful modern institu- 
 tions where there are a stuffed and very dusty 
 giraffe and a case or two of fossils, but a place 
 where there are gathered examples of art decoration 
 from various periods and countries. Such a place 
 is the South Kensington Museum in London, where- 
 on we build greater hopes for the future than on 
 any other one thing. There I go every Saturday 
 night, when the Museum is opened later than usual, 
 to see the handicraftsman, the wood-worker, the 
 glass-blower and the worker in metals. And it is 
 here that the man of refinement and culture comes 
 face to face with the workman who ministers to his 
 joy. He comes to know more of the nobility of the 
 workman, and the workman, feeling the apprecia- 
 tion, comes to know more of the nobility of his 
 work. 
 
 You have too many white walls. More colour is 
 
lO DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 wanted. You should have such men as Whistler 
 among you to teach you the beauty and joy 
 of colour. Take Mr. Whistler's "Symphony in 
 White," * which you no doubt have imagined to be 
 something quite bizarre. It is nothing of the sort. 
 Think of a cool grey sky, flecked here and there 
 with white clouds, a grey ocean and three wonder- 
 fully beautiful figures robed in white, leaning over 
 the water and dropping white flowers from their 
 fingers. Here are no extensive intellectual scheme 
 to trouble you and no metaphysics, of which we 
 have had quite enough in art. But if the simple and 
 unaided colour strikes the right keynote, the whole 
 conception is made clear. I regard Mr. Whistler's 
 famous " Peacock Room " ^^ as the finest thing in 
 colour and art decoration which the world has known 
 since Correggio painted that wonderful room in 
 Italy where the little children are dancing on the 
 walls." Mr. Whistler finished another room just be- 
 fore I came away — a breakfast room in blue and 
 yellow. The ceiling was a light blue, the cabinet- 
 work and furniture were of a yellow wood, the cur- 
 tains at the windows were white and worked in yel- 
 low, and when the table was set for breakfast with 
 dainty blue china, nothing can be conceived at once 
 so simple and so joyous. 
 
 The fault which I have observed in most of your 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA II 
 
 rooms is that there is apparent no definite scheme 
 of colour. Everything is not attuned to a keynote 
 as it should be. The apartments are crowded with 
 pretty things which have no relation to one another. 
 Again, your artists must decorate what is more 
 simply useful. In your art schools I found no 
 attempt to decorate such things as the vessels for 
 water. I know of nothing uglier than the ordinary 
 jug or pitcher. A museum could be filled with the 
 different kinds of water vessels which are used in 
 hot countries. Yet we continue to submit to the 
 depressing jug with the handle all on one side. I 
 do not see the wisdom of decorating dinner-plates 
 with sunsets and soup-plates with moonlight scenes. 
 I do not think it adds anything to the pleasure of 
 the canvas-back duck to take it out of such glories. 
 Besides, we do not want a soup-plate whose bottom 
 seems to vanish in the distance. One feels neither 
 safe nor comfortable under such conditions. In fact, 
 I did not find in the art schools of the country that 
 the difference was explained between decorative 
 and imaginative art. 
 
 The conditions of art should be simple. A great 
 deal more depends upon the heart than the head. 
 Appreciation of art is not secured by any elaborate 
 scheme of learning. Art requires a good healthy 
 atmosphere. The motives for art are still around 
 
12 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 about us as they were around about the ancients. 
 And the subjects are also easily found by the 
 earnest sculptor and the painter. Nothing is more 
 picturesque and graceful than a man at work. The 
 artist who goes to the children's playground, watches 
 them at their sport, and sees the boy stoop to 
 tie his shoe, will find the same themes that en- 
 gaged the attention of the ancient Greeks, and 
 such observation and the illustrations which follow 
 will do much to correct that foolish impression that 
 mental and physical beauty are always divorced. 
 
 To you more than perhaps to any other country, 
 has nature been generous in furnishing material 
 for art-workers to work in. You have marble- 
 . quarries where the stone is more beautiful in colour 
 than the Greeks ever had for their beautiful work, 
 and yet day after day I am confronted with the 
 great building of some stupid man who has used 
 the beautiful material as if it were not precious al- 
 most beyond speech. Marble should not be used 
 save by noble workmen. There is nothing which 
 gave me a greater sense of barrenness in travelling 
 through the country than the entire absence of 
 wood-carving on your houses. Wood-carving is 
 the simplest of the decorative arts. In Switzer- 
 land the little barefooted boy beautifies the porch 
 of his father's house with examples of skill in this 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 1 3 
 
 direction. Why should not American boys do a 
 great deal more and better than Swiss boys ? 
 
 There is nothing to my mind more coarse in con- 
 ception and more vulgar in execution than modern 
 jewelry. This is something that can be easily cor- 
 rected. Something better should be made out of 
 the beautiful gold which is stored up in your 
 mountain hollows and strewn along your river beds. 
 When I was at Leadville and reflected that all the 
 shining silver I saw coming from the mines would 
 be made into ugly dollars, it made me sad. It 
 should be made into something more permanent. 
 The golden gates at Florence are as beautiful to- 
 day as when Michael Angelo saw them. 
 
 We should see more of the workman than we 
 do. We should not be content to have the sales- 
 man stand between us— the salesman, who knows 
 nothing of what he is selling save that he is charg- 
 ing a great deal too much for it. And watching 
 the workmen, will teach that most important lesson, 
 the nobility of all rational workmanship. 
 
 I said in my last lecture that art would create 
 a new brotherhood^^ among men by furnishing a 
 universal language. I said that under its beneficent 
 influences war might pass away. Thinking this, 
 what place can I ascribe to art in our education ? 
 If children grow up among all fair and lovely things, 
 
14 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 they will grow to love beauty and detest ugliness 
 before they know the reason why. If you go into 
 a house where everything is coarse, you find 
 things chipped and broken and unsightly. Nobody 
 exercises any care. If everything is dainty and 
 delicate, gentleness and refinement of manner are 
 unconsciously acquired. When I was in San Fran- 
 cisco I used to visit the Chinese Quarter frequently. 
 There I used to watch a great hulking Chinese 
 workman at his task of digging, and used to see 
 him every day drink his tea from a little cup as 
 delicate in texture as the petal of a flower, whereas 
 in all the grand hotels of the land, where thousands 
 of dollars have been lavished on great gilt mirrors 
 and gaudy columns, I have been given my coffee 
 or my chocolate in cups an inch and a quarter 
 thick. ^^ I think I have deserved something nicer. 
 
 The art systems of the past have been devised 
 by philosophers who looked upon human beings as 
 obstructions. They have tried to educate boys' 
 minds before they had any. How much better it 
 would be in these early years to teach children to 
 use their hands in the rational service of mankind ! 
 I would have a workshop attached to every school, 
 and one hour a day given up to the teaching of 
 simple decorative arts. It would be a golden hour 
 to the children. And you would soon raise up a 
 
DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 1 5 
 
 race of handicraftsmen who would transform the 
 face of your country. I have seen only one such 
 school" in the United States, and this was in Phil- 
 adelphia, and was founded by my friend Mr. Le- 
 land.^' I stopped there yesterday and have brought 
 some of the work here this afternoon to show you. 
 Here ^* are two discs of beaten brass : the designs 
 on them are beautiful, the workmanship is simple 
 and the entire result is satisfactory. The work was 
 done by a little boy twelve years old. This is a 
 wooden bowl, decorated by a little girl of thirteen. 
 The design is lovely, and the colouring delicate 
 and pretty. Here you see a piece of beautiful wood- 
 carving, accomplished by a little boy of nine. In 
 such work as this children learn sincerity in art. 
 They learn to abhor the liar in art — the man who 
 paints wood to look like iron, or iron to look like 
 stone. It is a practical school of morals. No better 
 way is there to learn to love Nature than to under- 
 stand Art. It dignifies every flower of the field. 
 And the boy who sees the thing of beauty which a 
 bird on the wing becomes when transferred to wood 
 or canvas, will probably not throw the customary 
 stone." What we want is something spiritual added 
 to life. Nothing is so ignoble that art cannot sanc- 
 tify it. 
 
JOAQUIN MILLER, 
 THE GOOD SAMARITAN 
 
Satire paid the usual homage which mediocrity yields to genius. 
 — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 1882. 
 
 If you survive yellow journalism, you need not be afraid of yellow 
 fever. — Lecture on America. Current London Gossip. 
 
 New York Times, July 23, 1883. 
 
 There is much to be said in favour of modern journalism. By giv- 
 ing us the opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the 
 ignorance of the community. By invariably discussing the unneces- 
 sary, it makes us understand what things are requisite for culture, 
 and what are not. — The Critic as Artist. Part II, 
 
 In America the President reigns for four years, and journalism 
 governs for ever and ever. — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except 
 genius. — The Critic as Artist. Part I 
 
 Society often forgives the criminal ; it never forgives the dreamer. 
 — The Critic as Artist, Part II. 
 
 The meaning of any beautiful created thing is at least as much in 
 the soul of him who looks at it, as it was in his soul who wrought it. 
 
 — The Cntic as Artist, Pari I. 
 
JOAQUIN MILLER, 
 THE GOOD SAMARITAN' 
 
 109 West 33rd Street, 
 New York, February 9th, 1882. 
 
 My dear Oscar Wilde: — 
 
 I read with shame about the behaviour of those 
 ruffians at Rochester at your lecture there.^ When 
 I see such things here in the civiHzed portion of my 
 country and read the coarse comments of the Phihs- 
 tine Press, I feel like thanking God that my home 
 lies three thousand miles further on, and in what is 
 called the wilderness. Should you get as far as 
 Oregon in your travels, go to my father's. You 
 will find rest there and room, as much land as you 
 can encompass in a day's ride, and I promise you 
 there the respect due a stranger to our shores, to 
 your attainments, your industry and your large, 
 generous, and tranquil nature. Or should you 
 
 19 
 
20 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 decide to return here and not bear further abuse, 
 come to my house-top and abide with me, where 
 you will be welcome and loved as a brother.' And 
 bear this in mind, my dear boy, the more you are 
 abused the more welcome you will be. For I 
 remember how kind your country* was to me, and 
 at your age I had not done one-tenth your work. 
 May my right hand fail me when I forget this. 
 But don't you lose heart or come to disHke 
 America. For whatever is said or done, the real 
 heart of this strong young world demands and will 
 have fair play for all. This sentiment is deep and 
 substantial and will show itself when appealed to. 
 So go ahead, my brave youth, and say your say if 
 you choose. My heart is with you and so are the 
 hearts of the best of America's millions. Thine for 
 the Beautiful and True, 
 
 Joaquin Miller. 
 
 II 
 
 St. Louis,' February 28th, 1882. 
 My dear Joaquin Miller : — 
 
 I thank you for your chivalrous and courteous 
 letter. Believe me, I would as lief judge of the 
 strength and splendour of sun and sea by the dust 
 that dances in the beam and the bubble that breaks 
 
JOAQUIN MILLER, THE GOOD SAMARITAN 21 
 
 on the wave," as take the petty and profitless 
 vulgarity of one or two insignificant towns' as any 
 test or standard of the real spirit of a sane, strong, 
 and simple people, or allow it to affect my respect 
 for the many noble men or women* whom it has 
 been my privilege in this great country to know. 
 
 For myself and the cause which I represent, I have 
 no fears as regards the future. Slander and folly 
 have their way for a season, but for a season only, 
 while, as touching either the few provincial news- 
 papers which have so vainly assailed me, or that igno- 
 rant and itinerant libeller of New England who goes 
 lecturing from village to village in such open and 
 ostentatious isolation, be sure I have no time to 
 waste on them ! Youth being so glorious, art so god- 
 like, and the very world about us so full of beauti- 
 ful things, and things worthy of reverence, and 
 things honourable, how should one stop to listen to 
 the lucubrations of a literary gamin, to the brawling 
 and mouthing of a man whose praise would be as 
 insolent as his slander is impotent, or to the 
 irresponsible and irrepressible chatter of the profes- 
 sionally unproductive? 
 
 'T is a great advantage, I admit, to have done 
 nothing, but one must not abuse even that advan- 
 tage! 
 
 Who after all, that I should write of him, 
 is this scribbling anonymuncule in grand old 
 
22 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Massachusetts, who scrawls and screams so glibly 
 about what he cannot understand? This apostle 
 of inhospitality,' who delights to defile, to dese- 
 crate and to defame the gracious courtesies he is 
 unworthy to enjoy? Who are these scribes,^" who, 
 passing with purposeless alacrity from the police 
 news to the Parthenon, and from crime to criticism, 
 sway with such serene incapacity the office which 
 they so lately swept ? " Narcissuses of imbecil- 
 ity,"" what should they see in the clear waters of 
 Beauty and in the well undefiled of Truth but the 
 shifting and shadowy image of their own substantial 
 stupidity? Secure of that oblivion for which they 
 toil so laboriously, and, I must acknowledge, with 
 such success, let them peer at us through their tele- 
 scopes and report what they like of us. But, my 
 dear Joaquin, should we put them under the micro- 
 scope there would be really nothing to be seen. 
 
 I look forward to passing another delightful 
 evening with you on my return to New York, and 
 I need not tell you that whenever you visit England 
 you will be received with that courtesy with which 
 it is our pleasure always to welcome all Americans, 
 and that honour with which it is our privilege to 
 greet all poets. 
 
 Most sincerely and affectionately yours, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
MRS. LANGTRY AS HESTER 
 GRAZEBROOK 
 
EUe est comme une colombe qui s'est ^garfie . . . EUe est comme 
 un narcisse agit6 da vent . . . EUe ressemble ^ une fleur d'argent. 
 
 — Salomi. 
 
 In the case of a very fascinating woman, sex is a challenge, not a 
 defense. — An Ideal Husband; 
 
 !i\&o. Phrases and Philosophies for the use of the Young. 
 
 Beauty is a form of genius— is higher indeed, as it needs no ex- 
 planation. — The Picture of Dorian Gray, 
 
 The critic reproduces the work that he criticizes in a mode that is 
 never imitative, and part of whose charm may really consist in the 
 rejection of resemblance, and shows us in this way not merely the 
 meaning but also the mystery of Beauty, and, by transforming 
 each art into literature, solves once for all the problem of Art's 
 unity. — The Critic as Artist. Part I. 
 
 No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he 
 would cease to be an artist. — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 A great work of dramatic art should ... be presented to us in 
 the form most suitable to the modern spirit . . . Perfect accuracy 
 of detail, for the sake of perfect illusion, is necessary for us. 
 What we have to see is that the details are not allowed to usurp the 
 principal place. They must be subordinate always to the general 
 motive of the play. But subordination in art does not mean dis- 
 regard of truth ; it means conversion of fact into effect, and the 
 assigning to each detail its proper relative value. 
 
 — The Truth of Masks. 
 
MRS. LANGTRY AS HESTER 
 GRAZEBROOK' 
 
 It is only in the best Greek gems, on the silver 
 coins of Syracuse, or among the marble figures of 
 the Parthenon frieze, that one can find the ideal rep- 
 resentation of the marvellous beauty of that face 
 which laughed through the leaves last night^ as 
 Hester Grazebrook. 
 
 Pure Greek it is, with the grave low forehead, 
 the exquisitely arched brow; the noble chiselling 
 of the mouth, shaped as if it were the mouthpiece 
 of an instrument of music ; the supreme and splen- 
 did curve of the cheek ; the augustly pillared throat 
 which bears it all : it is Greek because the lines 
 which compose it are so definite and so strong, 
 and yet so exquisitely harmonized that the effect 
 is one of simple loveliness purely : Greek, because 
 its essence and its quality, as is the quality of music 
 and of architecture, is that of beauty based on ab- 
 solutely mathematical laws.^ 
 
 25 
 
26 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 But while art remains dumb and immobile in its 
 passionless serenity, with the beauty of this face 
 it is different: the grey eyes lighten into blue or 
 deepen into violet as fancy succeeds fancy; the 
 lips become flower-like in laughter or, tremulous 
 as a bird's wing, mould themselves at last into the 
 strong and bitter moulds of pain or scorn. And 
 then motion comes, and the statue wakes into life. 
 But the life is not the ordinary life of common 
 days ; it is life with a new value given to it, the 
 value of art: and the charm to me of Hester 
 Grazebrook's acting in the first scene of the play 
 to-night was that mingling of classic grace with 
 absolute reality which is the secret of all beautiful 
 art, of the plastic work of the Greeks and of the 
 pictures of Jean Francois Millet equally. 
 
 I do not think that the sovereignty and empire 
 of women's beauty has at all passed away, though 
 we may no longer go to war for them as the Greeks 
 did for the daughter of Leda.* The greatest empire 
 still remains for them — the empire of art. And 
 indeed this wonderful face, seen to-night for the 
 first time in America, has filled and permeated with 
 the pervading image of its type the whole of our 
 modern art in England. Last century it was the 
 romantic type which dominated in art, the type 
 loved by Reynolds and Gainsborough, of wonder- 
 
MRS. LANGTRY AS HESTER GRAZEBROOK 2J 
 
 ful contrasts of colour, of exquisite and varying 
 charm of expression, but without that definite 
 plastic feeling which divides classic from romantic 
 work. This type degenerated into mere facile 
 prettiness in the hands of lesser masters, and in pro- 
 test against it, was created by the hands of the Pre- 
 Raphaelites a new type, with its rare combination 
 of Greek form with Florentine mysticism. But 
 this mysticism becomes overstrained and a burden, 
 rather than an aid to expression, and a desire for 
 the pure Hellenic joy and serenity came in its 
 place ; and in all our modern work, in the paintings 
 of such men as Albert Moore ^ and Leighton * and 
 Whistler, we can trace the influence of this single 
 face giving fresh life and inspiration in the form of 
 a new artistic ideal. 
 
 As regards Hester Grazebrook's dresses, the first 
 was a dress whose grace depended entirely on the 
 grace of the person who wore it. It was merely 
 the simple dress of a village girl in England. The 
 second was a lovely combination of blue and creamy 
 lace. But the masterpiece was undoubtedly the 
 last, a symphony in silver-grey and pink, a pure 
 melody of colour which I feel sure Whistler would 
 have called a Scherzo, and take as its visible motive 
 the moonlight wandering in silver mist through a rose 
 garden, unless indeed he saw this dress, in which 
 
28 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 case he would paint it and nothing else, for it is 
 a dress such as Velasquez only could paint and 
 Whistler very wisely always paints those things 
 which are only within reach of Velasquez. 
 
 The scenery was, of course, prepared in a hurry.'' 
 Still much of it was very good indeed: the first 
 scene especially, with its graceful trees and open 
 forge and cottage porch, though the roses were 
 dreadfully out of tone, and besides their crudity of 
 colour, were curiously — badly grouped. The last 
 scene was exceedingly clever and true to nature as 
 well, being that combination of lovely scenery and 
 execrable architecture which is so specially charac- 
 teristic of a German spa. As for the drawing-room 
 scene, I cannot regard it as in any way a success. 
 The heavy ebony doors are entirely out of keeping 
 with the satin panels; the silk hangings and 
 festoons of black and yellow are quite meaningless 
 in their position and consequently quite ugly ; the 
 carpet is out of all colour-relation with the rest of 
 the room, and the table-cover is mauve. Still, to 
 have decorated ever so bad a room in six days must, 
 I suppose, be a subject of respectful wonder, though 
 I should have fancied that Mr. Wallack had many 
 very much better sets in his own stock. 
 
 But I am beginning to quarrel generally with 
 most modern scene-painting. A scene is primarily 
 
MRS. LANGTRY AS HESTER GRAZEBROOK 29 
 
 a decorative background for the actors, and should 
 be kept always subordinate ;8 first, to the players, 
 their dress, gesture, and action ; and, secondly, to 
 the fundamental principle of decorative art, which 
 is not to imitate but to suggest nature. If the 
 landscape is given its full realistic value, the value 
 of the figures to which it serves as a background is 
 impaired and often lost, and so the painted hang- 
 ings of the Elizabethan age were a far more artistic, 
 and so a far more rational form of scenery than most 
 modern scene-painting is. From the same master- 
 hand which designed the curtain at the Madison 
 Square Theatre,* I would like very much to see a 
 good decorative landscape in scene-painting; for I 
 have seen no open-air scene in any theatre which 
 did not really mar the value of the actors. One 
 must either, like Titian, make the landscape subor- 
 dinate to the figures, or like Claude, the fig^ures sub- 
 ordinate to the landscape;" for if we desire realistic 
 acting we cannot have realistic scene-painting. 
 
 I need not describe, however, how the beauty of 
 Hester Grazebrook survived the crude roses and the 
 mauve table-cloth triumphantly. That it is a beauty 
 that will be appreciated to the full in America, I 
 do not doubt for a moment, for it is only countries 
 which possess great beauty that can appreciate 
 beauty at all. It may also influence the art of 
 
30 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 America as it has influenced the art of England, 
 for of the rare Greek type it is the most absolutely- 
 perfect example. 
 
 The Philistine may, of course, object that to be 
 absolutely perfect is impossible. Well, that is so : 
 but then it is only the impossible things that are 
 worth doing nowadays ! 
 
"VERA" AND THE DRAMA 
 
The drama is the meeting place of art and life ; it deals, as Maz- 
 zini said, not merely with man, but with social man, with man in 
 relation to God and to humanity. 
 
 — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 1882. 
 
 A good play is hardly ever finished. It must be fitted to the 
 stage. It is not enough to make music ; one must make music that 
 the instruments can play. — Interview with Oscar Wilde. 
 
 New York World, August 12, 1883. 
 
 The actor is a critic of the drama. He shows the poet's work 
 under new conditions and by a message special to himself. He 
 takes the written word, and action, gesture, and voice become the 
 media of revelation. — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 The play [ Verci\ is meant not to be read but to be acted, and the 
 actor has always a right to object and to suggest. 
 
 —LetUr to Mr. K, D'Oyly Carte. 1882. 
 
"VERA" AND THE DRAMA 
 
 Charles Street, Grosvenor Square, July, 1883. 
 My dear Miss Prescott: — 
 
 It is with great pride and pleasure that I look 
 forward to seeing you in the character of the her- 
 oine of my play^ — a character which I entrust to 
 you with the most absolute confidence,^ for the first 
 night I saw you act I recognized in you a great 
 artist. 
 
 I do not only mean that there was strength and 
 splendour in your acting, music and melody in your 
 voice, and in every pose and gesture, as you walked 
 the stage, the infinite grace of perfect expressive- 
 ness, but that behind all these things, which are 
 merely the technique of acting, there lay the true 
 artistic nature which alone can conceive a part, and 
 the true artistic power which alone can create one. 
 
 As regards the play itself, I have tried in it to 
 
34 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 express within the limits of art that Titan cry of the 
 peoples for liberty, which in the Europe of our day, is 
 threatening thrones and making governments un- 
 stable from Spain to Russia, and from north to 
 southern seas. But it is a play not of politics but 
 of passion. It deals with no theories of govern- 
 ment, but with men and women simply ; and mod- 
 ern Nihilistic Russia, with all the terror of its tyr- 
 anny and the marvel of its martyrdoms, is merely 
 the fiery and fervent background in front of which 
 the persons of my dream live and love. With this 
 feeling was the play written, and with this aim 
 should the play be acted. 
 
 I have to thank you for the list of your company 
 which you have sent me ; and congratulate you, as 
 well as myself, on the names of the many well- 
 known and tried actors which I see it includes. 
 
 I am very much pleased to know that my di- 
 rections as regards scenery and costume have been 
 carried out. The yellow satin council-chamber is 
 sure to be a most artistic scene, and as you have 
 been unable to match in New York the vermilion 
 silk of which I sent you a pattern, I hope you will 
 allow me to bring you over a piece large enough 
 for your dress in the last act. 
 
 I look forward with much interest to a second 
 visit to America, and to having the privilege of pre- 
 
'VERA" AND THE DRAMA 
 
 35 
 
 senting to the American people my first drama. 
 There is, I think, no country in the world where 
 there are such appreciative theatrical audiences as 
 I saw in the United States. 
 
 I hope that by the time I arrive, the play will 
 be in good rehearsing order, and I remain, dear 
 Miss Prescott, your sincere friend and admirer, 
 
 Oscar Wjlde. 
 
 II 
 
 July, 1883. 
 My dear Miss Prescott : — 
 
 I have received the American papers and thank 
 you for sending them. I think we must remember 
 that no amount of advertising will make a bad 
 play succeed, if it is not a good play well acted. I 
 mean that one might patrol the streets of New 
 York with a procession of vermilion caravans twice 
 a day for six months to announce that Vera 
 was a great play, but if on the first night of its 
 production, the play was not a strong play, well 
 acted, well mounted, all the advertisements in the 
 world would avail nothing. My name signed to a 
 play will excite some interest in London and Amer- 
 
36 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 ica. Your name as the heroine carries great weight 
 with it. What we want to do is to have all the 
 real conditions of success in our hands. Success is 
 a science ; if you have the conditions, you get the 
 result. Art is the mathematical result of the emo- 
 tional desire for beauty. If it is not thought out, it 
 is nothing. 
 
 As regards dialogue, you can produce tragic ef- 
 fects by introducing comedy. A laugh in the audi- 
 ence does not destroy terror, but, by relieving terror, 
 aids it. Never be afraid that by raising a laugh you 
 destroy tragedy. On the contrary, you intensify it. 
 The canons of each art depend on what they appeal 
 to. Painting appeals to the eye and is founded on 
 the science of optics. Music appeals to the ear and 
 is founded on the science of acoustics. The drama 
 appeals to human nature, and must have as its ulti- 
 mate basis the science of psychology and physiology. 
 Now, one of the facts of physiology is the desire 
 of any intensified emotion to be relieved by some 
 emotion that is its opposite. Nature's example of 
 the dramatic effect is the laughter of hysteria or 
 the tears of joy. So, I cannot cut out my comedy 
 lines. Besides, the essence of good dialogue is in- 
 terruption. All good dialogue should give the 
 effect of its being made by the reaction of the per- 
 sonages on one another. It should never seem to 
 
"VERA" AND THE DRAMA 37 
 
 be ready-made by the author, and interruptions 
 have not only their artistic effect but their physical 
 value. They give the actors time to breathe and 
 get new breath power. 
 
 I remain, dear Miss Prescott, your sincere friend, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
MR. WHISTLER'S " TEN O'CLOCK" 
 
He who seems to stand most remote from his age is he who mir- 
 rors it best, because he has stripped life of that mist of familiarity 
 which, as Shelley used to say, makes life obscure to us. 
 
 — Lecture on the English Renaissance. iSSSc 
 
 A truly great artist cannot conceive of life being shown, or beauty 
 fashioned, under any conditions other than those that he has selected. 
 Creation employs all its critical faculty within its own sphere. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 All fine imaginative work is self-conscious and deliberate. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part I. 
 
 In its primary aspect, a painting has no more spiritual message or 
 meaning for us than a blue tile from the wall of Damascus, or a 
 Hitzen vase. It is a beautifully-coloured surface, nothing more, 
 and affects us by no suggestion stolen from philosophy, no pathos 
 pilfered from literature, no feeling filched from a poet, but by its 
 own incommunicable artistic essence. 
 
 — Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf : V Envoi. 1882. 
 
 To the great painter there is only one manner of painting — that 
 which he himself employs. The aesthetic critic, and the aesthetic 
 critic alone, can appreciate all forms and modes. It is to him that 
 Art makes her appeal, —The Critic as Artist, Part II. 
 
MR. WHISTLER'S "TEN O'CLOCK"' 
 
 At Princes' Hall Mr. Whistler made his first pub- 
 lic appearance last Friday^ as a lecturer on art, and 
 spoke for more than an hour with really marvellous 
 eloquence on the absolute uselessness of all lectures 
 of the kind. He began with a very pretty aria on 
 prehistoric history, describing how in early times 
 hunter and warrior would go forth to chase and 
 foray, while the artist sat at home making cup and 
 bowl for their service. Rude imitations of nature 
 they were first, like the gourd-bottle, till the sense 
 of beauty and form developed, and, in all its ex- 
 quisite proportions, the first vase was fashioned. 
 Then came the higher civilization of architecture 
 and arm-chairs, and with exquisite design, and 
 dainty diaper, the useful things of life were made 
 lovely ; and the hunter and the warrior lay on the 
 couch when they were tired, and, when they were 
 thirsty, drank from the bowl, and never cared to 
 love the exquisite proportions of the one, or the 
 
 41 
 
42 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 delightful ornament of the other ; and this attitude 
 of the primitive anthropophagous Philistine formed 
 the text of the lecture, and was the attitude which 
 Mr. Whistler entreated his audience to adopt towards 
 art. Remembering, no doubt, many charming invi- 
 tations to wonderful private views, this fashionable 
 assemblage seemed somewhat aghast, and not a 
 little amused, at being told that the slightest appear- 
 ance among a civilized people of any joy in beau- 
 tiful things is a grave impertinence to all painters ; 
 but Mr. Whistler was relentless, and with charming 
 ease, and much grace of manner, explained to the 
 public that the only thing they should cultivate was 
 ugliness, and that on their permanent stupidity 
 rested all the hopes of art in the future. 
 
 The scene was in every way dehghtf ul ; he stood 
 there, a miniature Mephistopheles mocking the 
 majority! He was like a brilliant surgeon' lecturing 
 to a class composed of subjects destined ultimately 
 for dissection, and solemnly assuring them how 
 valuable to science their maladies were, and how 
 absolutely uninteresting the slightest symptoms of 
 health on their part should be. In fairness to the 
 audience, however, I must say they seemed ex- 
 tremely gratified at being rid of the dreadful respon- 
 sibility of admiring anything, and nothing could 
 have exceeded their enthusiasm when they were 
 
MR. WHISTLER'S "TEN O'CLOCK" 43 
 
 told by Mr. Whistler that no matter how vulgar 
 their dresses were, or how hideous their sur- 
 roundings at home, still it was possible that a great 
 painter, if there was such a thing, could, by con- 
 templating them in the twilight, and half closing 
 his eyes, see them under really picturesque condi- 
 tions, and produce a picture which they were not 
 to attempt to understand, much less dare to enjoy. 
 Then there were some arrows, barbed and brilliant, 
 shot off, with all the speed and splendour of fire- 
 works, at the archaeologists, who spend their lives 
 in verifying the birthplaces of nobodies, and estimate 
 the value of a work of art by its date, or its decay ; 
 at the art critics who always treat a picture as if it 
 were a novel, and try and find out the plot ; at the 
 dilettanti in general, and amateurs in particular, 
 and {O inea culpa!) at dress reformers * most of all. 
 " Did not Velasquez paint crinolines ? What more 
 do you want ? " ' 
 
 Having thus made a holocaust of humanity, Mr. 
 Whistler turned to Nature, and in a few moments 
 convicted her of the Crystal Palace, Bank holidays, 
 and a general overcrowding of detail, both in 
 omnibuses and in landscapes ; and then, in a passage 
 of singular beauty, spoke of the artistic value of dim 
 dawns and dusks, when the mean facts of life are lost 
 in exquisite and evanescent effects ; when common 
 
44 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 things are touched with mystery, and transfigured 
 with magic; when the warehouses become as 
 palaces, and the tall chimneys of the factory seem 
 like campaniles in the opal air — a passage of per- 
 fect prose, well worthy of him to whom alone 
 among painters, has the moon revealed her silver 
 secrets, and the rose of morning opened its petals 
 of gold. 
 
 Finally, after making a strong protest against 
 anybody but a painter judging of painting, and a 
 pathetic appeal to the audience not to be lured by 
 the aesthetic movement into having beautiful things 
 about them,' Mr. Whistler concluded his lecture 
 with a pretty passage about Fusiyama on a fan,' and 
 made his bow to an audience which he had suc- 
 ceeded in completely fascinating by his wit, his 
 brilliant paradoxes, and, at times, his real eloquence. 
 Of course, with regard to the value of beautiful 
 surroundings I differ entirely from Mr. Whistler. 
 An artist is not an isolated eccentricity.* ' He is the 
 resultant of a certain milieu and a certain entourage, 
 and can no more be born of a nation that is devoid 
 of any sense of beauty, than a fig can grow from a 
 thorn, or a rose blossom from a thistle. That an 
 artist will find beauty in ugliness, le beau dans 
 I' horrible, is now a commonplace of the schools, the 
 argot of the atelier, but I strongly deny that charm- 
 
MR. WHISTLER'S "TEN O'CLOCK" 45 
 
 ing people should be condemned to live with magenta 
 ottomans, and Albert blue curtains, in their rooms, 
 in order that some painter may observe the side- 
 lights on the one and the values of the other. Nor 
 do I accept the dictum that only a painter is a judge 
 of painting.' I say that only an artist is a judge of 
 art ; there is a wide difference. As long as a painter 
 is a painter merely, he should not be allowed to talk 
 of anything but mediums and megilp, and on those 
 subjects should be compelled to hold his tongue; 
 it is only when he becomes an artist that the secret 
 laws of artistic creation are revealed to him. For 
 there are not many arts, but one art merely : poem, 
 picture, and Parthenon, sonnet and statue — all are 
 in their essence the same, and he who knows one, 
 knows all.^" But the poet is the supreme artist, for 
 he is the master of colour and of form, and the real 
 musician besides, and is lord over all life and all 
 arts; and so to the poet beyond others are these 
 mysteries known; to Edgar Allan Poe, and to 
 Baudelaire,^^ not to Benjamin West and Paul Dela- 
 roche.^^ However, I could not enjoy anybody else's 
 lectures unless I entirely disagreed with them, and 
 so I have no hesitation in describing Mr. Whistler's 
 effort of Friday night as a masterpiece. Not merely 
 for its clever satire and amusing jests will it be 
 remembered, but for the pure and perfect beauty 
 
46 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 of many of its passages — passages delivered with an 
 earnestness which seemed to amaze those who had 
 looked on Mr. Whistler as a master of persiflage 
 merely, and had not known him, as we do, as a 
 master of painting also. For that he is indeed one 
 of the very greatest masters of painting, is my 
 opinion. And I may add that in this opinion Mr. 
 Whistler himself entirely concurs. 
 
THE RELATION OF DRESS 
 TO ART 
 
From a combination of the Greek principles of beauty with the 
 German principles of health will come, I feel certain, the costume 
 of the future. —Letter on Woman! s Dress. 1884. 
 
 The costume of the future in England, if it is founded on the 
 true laws of freedom, comfort, and adaptability to circumstances, 
 cannot fail to be most beautiful also, because beauty is the sign 
 always of the rightness of principles, the mystical seal set upon what 
 is perfect, and upon what is perfect only. 
 
 — More Radical Ideas Upon Dress Reform. 1884.. 
 
 Every single work of art is the fulfilment of a prophecy : for every 
 work of art is the conversion of an idea into an image. 
 
 — De Profundis. 
 
 A work of art is the unique result of a unique temperament. Its 
 beauty comes from the fact that the author is what he is. It has 
 nothing to do with the fact that other people want what they want. 
 — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 The meaning of joy in art— that incommunicable element of ar- 
 tistic delight ... in painting is to be sought for, from the subject 
 never, but from the pictorial charm only — the scheme and sym- 
 phony of the colour, the satisfying beauty of the design : so that the 
 ultimate expression of our artistic movement in painting has been, 
 not in the spiritual visions of the Pre-Raphaelites for all their mar- 
 vel of Greek legend and their mystery of Italian song, but in the 
 work of such men as Whistler and Albert Moore, who have raised 
 design and colour to the ideal level of poetry and music. 
 
 — Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf : V Envoi. 1882. 
 
THE RELATION OF DRESS 
 TO ART' 
 
 A NOTE IN BLACK AND WHITE 
 ON MR. whistler's LECTURE 
 
 " How can you possibly paint these ugly three- 
 cornered hats?" asked a reckless art critic once of 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds. " I see light and shade in 
 them," answered the artist. " Les grands coloristes" 
 says Baudelaire, in a charming article on the ar- 
 tistic value of frock coats, "les grands coloristei 
 savent faire de la couleur avec un habit noir, une 
 cravate blanche, et un fond gris." 
 
 " Art seeks and finds the beautiful in all times, 
 as did her high priest Rembrandt, when he saw the 
 picturesque grandeur of the Jews' quarter of Am- 
 sterdam and lamented not that its inhabitants were 
 not Greeks," were the fine and simple words used 
 by Mr. Whistler in one of the most valuable pas- 
 sages of his lecture. The most valuable, that is, 
 
 49 
 
50 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 to the painter; for there is nothing of which the 
 ordinary English painter more needs to be reminded, 
 than that the true artist does not wait for life to be 
 made picturesque for him, but sees life under pictur- 
 esque conditions always — under conditions, that is to 
 say, which are at once new and delightful. But be- 
 tween the attitude of a painter towards the public, and 
 the attitude of a people towards art, there is a wide 
 difference. That, under certain conditions of light 
 and shade, what is ugly in fact may, in its effect,* 
 become beautiful, is true: and this, indeed, is the 
 real moderniti of art : but these conditions are ex- 
 actly what we cannot be always sure of, as we stroll 
 down Piccadilly in the glaring vulgarity of the noon- 
 day, or lounge in the park with a foolish sunset* 
 as a background. Were we able to carry our chiar- 
 oscuro about with us, as we do our umbrellas, all 
 would be well ; but, this being impossible, I hardly 
 think that pretty and delightful people will continue 
 to wear a style of dress, as ugly as it is useless, on 
 the chance of Mr. Whistler spiritualizing them into 
 a symphony, or refining them into a mist. To be 
 etched is not the end of existence. The arts are 
 made for life, and not life for the arts. 
 
 Nor do I feel quite sure that Mr. Whistler has 
 been himself always true to the dogma he seems 
 to lay down, that a painter should only paint the 
 
THE RELATION OF DRESS TO ART 51 
 
 dress of his age, and of his actual surroundings. 
 Far be it from me to burden a butterfly with the 
 heavy responsibility of its past! I have always 
 been of opinion that consistency is the last refuge 
 of the unimaginative. But have we not all seen, 
 and most of us admired, a picture from his hand of 
 exquisite English girls strolling by an opal sea in 
 the fantastic dresses of Japan?* Has not Tite 
 Street been thrilled with the tidings that the models 
 of Chelsea were posing to the master, in peplums, 
 for pastels?^ 
 
 Whatever comes from Mr. Whistler's brush is far 
 too perfect in its loveliness, to stand, or fall, by any 
 intellectual dogmas on art, even by his own. For 
 Beauty is justified of all her children, and cares 
 nothing for explanations. But it is impossible to 
 look through any collection of modern pictures in 
 London, from Burlington House to the Grosvenor 
 Gallery, without feeling that the professional model 
 is ruining painting, and reducing it to a condi- 
 tion of mere pose and pastiche.^ 
 
 Are we not all weary of him, that venerable im- 
 poster, fresh from the steps of the Piazza di Spagna, 
 who, in the leisure moments that he can spare from 
 his customary organ, makes the round of the studios, 
 and is waited for in Holland Park ? Do we not all 
 recognize him, when, with the gay insouciance of his 
 
52 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 nation, he reappears on the walls of our summer 
 exhibitions, as everything that he is not, and as 
 nothing that he is, glaring at us here as a patriarch 
 of Canaan, here beaming as a brigand from the 
 Abruzzi ? Popular is he, this poor peripatetic pro- 
 fessor of posing,' with those whose joy it is to paint 
 the posthumous portrait of the last philanthropist, 
 who, in his lifetime, had neglected to be photo- 
 graphed. Yet, he is the sign of the decadence, 
 the symbol of decay. 
 
 For all costumes are caricatures. The basis of 
 Art is not the Fancy Ball.' Where there is loveli- 
 ness of dress, there is no dressing up. And so, were 
 our national attire delightful in colour, and in con- 
 struction simple and sincere ; were dress the expres- 
 sion of the loveliness that it shields, and of the 
 swiftness and motion that it does not impede; did 
 its lines break from the shoulder,' instead of bulging 
 from the waist ; did the inverted wineglass cease to 
 be the ideal of form" — were these things brought 
 about, as brought about they will be, then would 
 painting be no longer an artificial reaction against 
 the ugliness of life, but become, as it should be, the 
 natural expression of life's beauty. Nor would 
 painting merely, but all the arts also, be the 
 gainers by a change such as that which I propose ; 
 the gainers; I mean, through the increased atmos- 
 
THE RELATION OF DRESS TO ART 53 
 
 phere of Beauty by which the artists would be 
 surrounded, and in which they would grow up. 
 For Art is not to be taught in Academies. It is 
 what one looks at, not what one listens to, that 
 makes the artist. The real schools are the streets. 
 There is not, for instance, a single delicate line, or 
 delightful proportion, in the dress of the Greeks, 
 which is not echoed exquisitely in their architec- 
 ture." A nation arrayed in stove-pipe hats, and 
 dress-improvers, might have built the Pantechni- 
 con, possibly, but the Parthenon, never. And, 
 finally, there is this to be said : Art, it is true, can 
 never have any other aim but her own perfection, 
 and it may be that the artist, desiring merely to 
 contemplate and to create, is wise in not busying 
 himself about change in others : yet wisdom is not 
 always the best ; there are times when she sinks to 
 the level of common sense ; and from the passionate 
 folly of those, and there are many, who desire that 
 Beauty shall be confined no longer to the bric-a-brac 
 of the collector, and the dust of the museum, but 
 shall be, as it should be, the natural and national 
 inheritance of all^ — from this noble unwisdom, I 
 say, who knows what new loveliness shall be given to 
 life, and, under these more exquisite conditions, what 
 perfect artist born ? Le milieu se renouvelant, I'art 
 se renouvelle. 
 
54 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Speaking, however, from his own passionless 
 pedestal, Mr. Whistler in pointing out that the 
 power of the painter is to be found in his power of 
 vision, not in his cleverness of hand, has expressed 
 a truth which needed expression, and which, coming 
 from the lord of form and colour, cannot fail to 
 have its influence. His lecture, the Apocrypha 
 though it be for the people, yet remains from this 
 time as the Bible for the painter, the masterpiece of 
 masterpieces, the song of songs. It is true he has 
 pronounced the panegyric of the Philistine, but I 
 can fancy Ariel praising Caliban^^ for a jest : and, 
 in that he has read the Commination Service over 
 the critics, let all men thank him, the critics them- 
 selves indeed most of all, for he has now relieved 
 them from the necessity of a tedious existence. 
 Considered again, merely as a litterateur, Mr. 
 Whistler seems to me to stand almost alone. 
 Indeed, I know but few who can combine, so felici- 
 tously as he does, the mirth and malice of Puck with 
 the style of the minor prophets. 
 
THE TOMB OF KEATS 
 
Spirit of Beauty! •• 
 
 Yet tarry! for the boy who loved thee best, 
 Whose very name should be a memory 
 To make thee linger, sleeps in silent rest 
 
 Beneath the Roman walls 
 
 — The Garden of Eros. 
 
 ON THE RECENT SALE BY AUCTION OF KEATS' LOVE 
 LETTERS 1 
 
 These are the letters which Endymion wrote 2 
 To one he loved in secret and apart, 
 And now the brawlers of the auction-mart ^ 
 Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note, 
 Aye ! for each separate pulse of passion quote 
 The merchant's price ! I think they love not art 
 Who break the crystal of a poet's heart 
 That small and sickly eyes may glare or gloat. 
 
 Is it not said, that many years ago. 
 In a far Eastern town some soldiers ran 
 With torches through the midnight, and began 
 To wrangle for mean raiment, and to throw * 
 Dice for the garments of a wretched man, 
 Not knowing the God's wonder, or His woe? 
 
 And out of the bronze of the image of the sorrow that 
 ENDURETH FOREVER he fashioned an image of the pleasure 
 that abideth for a moment. — T?ie Artist. 
 
THE TOMB OF KEATS' 
 
 - . • ^ 
 
 As one enters Rome from the Via Ostiensis* by 
 the Porta San Paolo, the first object that meets the 
 eye is a marble pyramid'' which stands close at hand 
 on the left. 
 
 There are many Egyptian obelisks* in Rome, tall 
 snake-like spires of red sandstone, mottled with 
 strange writings, which remind us of the pillars of 
 flame* which led the Children of Israel through the 
 desert away from the land of the Pharaohs; but 
 more wonderful than these to look upon is this 
 gaunt, wedge-shaped pyramid standing here in this 
 Italian city, unshattered amid the ruins and wrecks 
 of time, looking older than the Eternal City ^tself, 
 like terrible impassiveness turned to stone. And 
 so in the middle ages men supposed this to be the 
 sepulchre of Remus, who was slain by his own 
 brother at the founding of the city, so ancient and 
 mysterious it appears ; but we have now, perhaps 
 
 57 
 
58 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 unfortunately, more accurate information about it, 
 and know that it is the tomb of Caius Cestius, a 
 Roman gentleman of small note, who died about 30 
 B.C. 
 
 Yet though we cannot care much for the dead 
 man who lies in lonely state beneath it, and who is 
 only known to the world through his sepulchre, 
 still this pyramid will be ever dear to the eyes of all 
 English-speaking people, because at evening its 
 shadow falls on the tomb of one who walks with 
 Spenser and Shakespeare and Byron and Shelley 
 and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, in the great pro- 
 cession of the sweet singers of England. 
 
 For at its foot there is a green sunny slope, 
 known as the Old Protestant cemetery,'" and on this 
 a common looking grave, which bears the following 
 inscription : 
 
 " This grave contains all that was mortal of a young 
 English poet, who, on his death-bed, in the bitterness of his 
 heart, desired ^^ these words to be engraved on his tomb-stone : 
 ' Here lies one whose name was writ in water.' w February 24, 
 1821." 
 
 And the name of the young English poet is John 
 Keats. 
 
 Lord Houghton^' calls this cemetery " one of the 
 most beautiful spots on which the eye and heart of 
 man can rest," and Shelley speaks of it as " making 
 
THE TOMB OF KEATS 59 
 
 one in love with death, to think one should be 
 buried in so sweet a place;"" and indeed when I 
 saw the violets and the daisies and the poppies 
 that overgrow the tomb, I remembered how the 
 dead poet had once told his friend that he thought 
 the " intensest pleasure he had received iu life was 
 in watching the growth of flowers," and how another 
 time, after lying a while quite still, he murmured 
 in some strange prescience of early death, "I feel 
 the flowers growing over me."^^ 
 
 But this time-worn stone and these wild flowers 
 are but poor memorials* of one so great as Keats : 
 most of all, too, in this city of Rome, which pays 
 such honor to her dead; where popes and em- 
 perors and saints and cardinals lie hidden in 
 " porphyry wombs," or couched in baths of jasper 
 and chalcedony and malachite, ablaze with pre- 
 cious stones and metals, and tended with continued 
 service. For very noble is the site, and worthy of 
 a noble monument." Behind looms the grey pyra- 
 mid, symbol of the world's age, and filled with 
 
 "Recently some well-meaning persons have placed a marble slab 
 on the wall of the cemetery with a medallion-profile of Keats on it, 
 and some mediocre lines of poetry.lT The face is ugly and rather 
 hatchet-shaped, with thick, sensual lips, and is utterly unlike the 
 poet himself, who was very beautiful to look upon. "His counte- 
 nance," says a lady 18 who saw him at one of Hazlitt's lectures, "lives 
 in my mind as one of singular beauty and brightness; it had the ez- 
 
60 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 memories of the sphinx" and the lotus leaf and the 
 glories of old Nile ; in front is the Monte Testaccio/" 
 built, it is said, with the broken fragments of the 
 vessels in which all the nations of the East and the 
 West brought their tribute to Rome ; and a little 
 distance off, along the slope of the hill under the 
 Aurelian wall, some tall, gaunt cypresses rise, like 
 burnt-out funeral torches,^^ to mark the spot where 
 Shelley's heart (that " heart of hearts ! "f^ lies in the 
 earth ; and above all, the soil on which we tread is 
 very Rome! 
 
 As I stood beside the mean grave of this divine 
 boy, I thought of him as of a Priest of Beauty 
 slain before his time ; and the vision of Guido's St. 
 Sebastian^' came before my eyes as I saw him at 
 Genoa, a lovely brown boy, with crisp, clustering 
 hair** and red lips, bound by his evil enemies to a 
 tree, and though pierced by arrows, raising his eyes 
 with divine, impassioned gaze toward the Eternal 
 Beauty of the opening heavens. And thus my 
 thoughts shaped themselves to rhyme: 
 
 pression as if he had been looking on some glorions sight." And 
 this is the idea which Severn's picture^s of him gives. Even Haydon's 
 rough pen and ink sketches of him is better than this " marble libel," 
 which I hope will soon be taken dovra. I think the best representa- 
 tion of the poet would be a coloured bust, like that of the young 
 Rajah of Koolapoor 27 at Florence, which is a lovely and life-like work 
 of art. — Author's Note. 
 
THE TOMB OF KEATS 6l 
 
 HEU MISERANDE PUER^* 
 
 Rid of the world's injustice and its pain, 
 
 He rests at last beneath God's veil of blue ;29 
 
 Taken from life while life and love were new, 
 
 The youngest of the martyrs here is lain, 
 
 Fair as Sebastian and as foully slain. 
 
 No cypress shades his grave, nor funeral yew. 
 
 But red-lipped daisies, violets drenched with dew. 
 
 And sleepy poppies, catch the evening rain. 
 
 O proudest heart that broke for misery ! 
 O saddest poet that the world hath seen ! 
 O sweetest singer of the English land ! 
 Thy name was writ in water on the sand. 
 But our tears shall keep thy memory green, 
 And make it flourish like a Basil-tree.^" 
 
 Rome, 1877. 
 
KEATS' SONNET ON BLUE 
 
"Behappy,"cried the Nightingale, "be happy; you shall have 
 your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight and stain 
 it with my own heart's-blood. All that I ask of yon in return is 
 that yon wiU be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy, 
 though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty." 
 
 — The Nightingale and the Rose. 
 
 The most joyous poet is not he who sows the desolate highways 
 of this world with the barren seed of laughter, but he who makes 
 his sorrow most musical. — Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf: V Envoi. 
 
 The joy of poetry comes never from the subject, but from an in- 
 ventive handling of rhythmical language. 
 
 — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 
 
 Art finds her own perfection within, and not outside of, herself. 
 . . . She is a veil, rather than a mirror. She has flowers that 
 no forests know of, birds that no woodland possesses. She makes 
 and unmakes many worlds, and can draw the moon from heaven 
 with a scarlet thread. . . . She can bid the almond tree blossom in 
 winter, and send the snow upon the ripe cornfield. At her word 
 the frost lays its silver finger on the burning mouth of June. 
 
 — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 The world is made by the singer for the dreamer. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part I. 
 
KEATS' SONNET ON BLUE' 
 
 During my tour in America I happened one 
 evening to find myself in Louisville,^ Kentucky. 
 The subject I had selected to speak on was The 
 Mission of Art in the Nineteenth Century, and in 
 the course of my lecture I had occasion to quote 
 Keats' sonnet on Blue as an example of the poet's 
 delicate sense of colour-harmonies. When my 
 lecture was concluded there came round to see me 
 a lady of middle age, with a sweet, gentle manner 
 and a most musical voice. She introduced herself 
 tb me as Mrs. Speed,' the daughter of George 
 Keats,* and invited me to come and examine the 
 Keats manuscripts in her possession. I spent most 
 of the next day with her, reading the letters of 
 Keats to her father, some of which were at that 
 time unpublished,' poring over torn yellow leaves 
 and faded scraps of paper, and wondering at the 
 little Dante in which Keats had written those mar- 
 vellous notes on Milton.* Some months afterwards 
 
 65 
 
66 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 when I was in California, I received a letter from 
 Mrs. Speed asking my acceptance of the original 
 manuscript of the sonnet which I had quoted in my 
 lecture. This manuscript I have had reproduced 
 here/ as it seems to me to possess much psycholog- 
 ical interest. It shows us the conditions that pre- 
 ceded the perfected form, the gradual growth, not 
 of the conception but of the expression, and the 
 workings of that spirit of selection which is the 
 secret of style. In the case of poetry, as in the 
 case of the other arts, what may appear to be 
 simply technicalities of method are in their essence 
 spiritual, not mechanical, and although, in all 
 lovely work, what concerns us is the ultimate form, 
 not the conditions that necessitate that form, yet 
 the preference that precedes perfection, the evolu- 
 tion of the beauty, and the mere making of the 
 music, have, if not their artistic value, at least their 
 value to the artist. 
 
 It will be remembered that this sonnet was first 
 published in 1 848, by Lord Houghton' in his Life, 
 Letters, and Literary Remains of John Keats. Lord 
 Houghton does not definitely state where he found 
 it, but it was probably among the Keats manuscripts 
 belonging to Mr. Charles Brown.' It is evidently 
 taken from a version later than that in my possession, 
 as it accepts all the corrections, and makes three 
 
KEATS' SONNET ON BLUE 67 
 
 variations. As in my manuscript the first line is 
 torn away, I give the sonnet here as it appears in 
 Lord Houghton's edition." 
 
 ANSWER TO A SONNET ENDING THUS:- 
 
 "Dark eyes are dearer far II 
 Than those that make the hyacinthine bell." * 
 
 By J. H. REYNOLDS.12 
 
 Blue ! 'Tis the life of heaven,— the domain 
 
 Of Cynthia,— the wide palace of the sun,— 
 The tent of Hesperus and all his train,— 
 
 The bosomer of clouds, gold, grey and dun. 
 Blue ! 'Tis the life of waters— ocean 
 
 And all its vassal streams : pools numberless 
 May rage, and foam, and fret, but never can 
 
 Subside if not to dark-blue nativeness. 
 Blue ! gentle cousin of the forest green, 
 
 Married to green in all the sweetest flowers, 
 Forget-me-not,— the blue-bell,— and, that queen 
 
 Of secrecy, the violet : what strange powers 
 Hast thou, as a mere shadow ! But how great. 
 
 When in an Eye thou art alive with fate ! 
 
 Feb., 1818P 
 
 In The Athenceum of the 3rd of June, 1876," ap- 
 peared a letter from Mr. A. J. Horwood, stating 
 that he had in his possession a copy of The Garden 
 of Florence in which this sonnet was transcribed. 
 
 * ' Make ' is of course a mere printer's error for ' mock,' and was 
 subsequently corrected by Lord Houghton. The sonnet as given in 
 The Garden of Florence reads 'orbs ' for ' \\iose'— Author's Note. 
 
68 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Mr. Horwood, who was unaware that the sonnet 
 had been already published by Lord Houghton, 
 gives the transcript at length. His version reads 
 hue for life in the first line, and bright for wide in 
 the second, and gives the sixth line thus : 
 
 " With all his tributary streams, pools numberless," 
 
 a foot too long: it also reads to for of in the 
 ninth line. Mr. Buxton Forman is of the opinion 
 that these variations are decidedly genuine,^ but in- 
 dicative of an earlier state of the poem than that 
 adopted in Lord Houghton's edition. However, 
 now that we have before us Keats' first draft of his 
 sonnet, it is difficult to believe that the sixth line in 
 Mr. Horwood's version is really a genuine varia- 
 tion." Keats may have written, 
 
 " Ocean 
 His tributary streams, pools numberless," 
 
 and the transcript may have been carelessly made, 
 but having got his line right in his first draft, Keats 
 probably did not spoil it in his second. The 
 Athenaum. version inserts a comma after art in the 
 last line, which seems to me a decided improvement, 
 and eminently characteristic of Keats' method." I 
 am glad to see that Mr. Buxton Forman has adopted 
 it. 
 
 As for the corrections that Lord Houghton's 
 
KEATS' SONNET ON BLUE 69 
 
 version shows Keats to have made in the eighth and 
 ninth lines of this sonnet, it is evident that they 
 sprang from Keats' reluctance to repeat the same 
 word in consecutive lines, except in cases where a 
 word's music or meaning was to be emphasized. 
 The substitution of its for his in the sixth line is 
 more difficult of explanation. It is due probably 
 to a desire on Keats' part not to mar by any echo 
 the fine personification of Hesperus. 
 
 It may be noticed that Keats' own eyes were 
 brown, and not blue,^* as stated by Mrs. Procter to 
 Lord Houghton. Mrs. Speed showed me a note to 
 that effect written by Mrs. George Keats on the 
 margin of the page in Lord Houghton's Life (page 
 100, vol. i), where Mrs. Procter's description is 
 given. Cowden Clarke" made a similar correction 
 in his "Recollections; ""^ and in some of the later 
 editions of Lord Houghton's book the word "blue" 
 is struck out. In Severn's^^ portraits of Keats also 
 the eyes are given as brown. 
 
 The exquisite sense of colour expressed in the 
 ninth and tenth lines may be paralleled by 
 
 « The Ocean with its vastness, its blue green," 
 of the sonnet to George Keats.^ 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 
 
Like the philosopher of the Platonic vision, the poet is the spec- 
 tator of all time and all existence. For him no form is obsolete, no 
 subject out of date ; rather, whatever of life and passion the world 
 has known in the desert of Judaea or in Arcadian valley, by the 
 ruins of Troy or Damascus, in the crowded and hideous streets of 
 the modem city, or by the pleasant ways of Camelot, all lies before 
 him like an open scroll, all is still instinct with beautiful life. 
 
 — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 1882. 
 
 Lying and poetry are arts — arts, as Plato saw, not unconnected 
 with each other — and they require the most careful study, the most 
 disinterested devotion. — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 Rhyme, that exquisite echo which in the Muse's hollow hill creates 
 and answers its own voice ; rhyme, which in the hands of the real 
 artist becomes not merely a material element of metrical beauty, but 
 a spiritual element of thought and passion also, waking a new mood, 
 it may be, or stirring a fresh train of ideas, or opening by mere 
 sweetness and suggestion of sound some golden door at which the 
 Imagination itself had knocked in vain ! 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Parti. 
 
 In the case of most of our modern poets, when we have analysed 
 them down to an adjective, we can go no further, or, we care to go 
 no further. 
 
 What English poetry has to fear is not the fascination of dainty 
 meter or delicate form, but the predominance of the intellectual 
 spirit over the spirit of beauty. — A Note on Some Modem Poets. 
 The Woman's World, December, 1888. 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES' 
 
 England has given to the world one great 
 poetess^ — Elizabeth Barrett Browning. By her side 
 Mr. Swinburne would place Miss Christina Rossetti, 
 whose New Year hymn^ he describes* as so much 
 the noblest of sacred poems in our language, that 
 there is none which comes near it enough to stand 
 second. "It is a hymn," he tells us, "touched as 
 with the fire, and bathed as in the light of sun- 
 beams, tuned as to chords and cadences of refluent 
 sea-music beyond reach of harp and organ, large 
 echoes of the serene and sonorous tides of heaven." 
 Much as I admire Miss Rossetti's work, her subtle 
 choice of words, her rich imagery, her artistic 
 naivete, wherein curious notes of strangeness and 
 simplicity are fantastically blended together, I can- 
 not but think that Mr. Swinburne has, with noble 
 and natural loyalty, placed her on too lofty a ped- 
 estal. To me, she is simply a very delightful artist 
 in poetry. This is indeed something so rare that 
 
 73 
 
74 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 when we meet it we cannot fail to love it, but it is 
 not everything. Beyond it and above it are higher 
 and more sunlit heights of song, a larger vision, 
 and an ampler air, a music at once more passionate 
 and more profound, a creative energy that is born 
 of the spirit, a winged rapture that is born of the 
 soul, a force and fervour of mere utterance that has 
 all the wonder of the prophet, and not a little of 
 the consecration of the priest. Mrs. Browning is 
 unapproachable by any woman who has ever 
 touched lyre or blown through reed since the days 
 of the great yEolian poetess.' But Sappho, who, 
 to the antique world, was a pillar of flame, is to us 
 but a pillar of shadow. Of her poems, burnt with 
 other most precious work by Byzantine Emperor 
 and by Roman Pope, only a few fragments re- 
 main.' Possibly they lie mouldering in the scented 
 darkness of an Egyptian tomb, clasped in the 
 withered hands of some long-dead lover. Some 
 Greek monk at Athos'' may even now be poring 
 over an ancient manuscript, whose crabbed char- 
 acters conceal lyric or ode by her whom the Greeks 
 spoke of as " The Poetess," just as they termed 
 Homer " The Poet," who was to them the tenth 
 Muse, the flower of the Graces, the child of Eros, 
 and the pride of Hellas — Sappho, with the sweet 
 voice, the bright, beautiful eyes, the dark hyacinth- 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 75 
 
 coloured hair. But, practically, the work of the mar- 
 vellous singer of Lesbos * is entirely lost to us. We 
 have a few rose leaves out of her garden. That is all. 
 Literature nowadays survives marble and bronze, 
 but in old days, in spite of the Roman poet's noble 
 boast, it was not so. The fragile clay vases of the 
 Greeks still keep for us pictures of Sappho, deli- 
 cately painted in black and red and white ; but of 
 her song we have only the echo of an echo. 
 
 Of all the women of history, Mrs. Browning is 
 the only one that we could name in any possible 
 or remote conjunction with Sappho. Sappho was 
 undoubtedly a far more flawless and perfect artist. 
 She stirred the whole antique world more than Mrs. 
 Browning ever stirred our modern age. Never had 
 Love such a singer. Even in the few lines that 
 remain to us, the passion seems to scorch and bum. 
 But, as unjust Time, who has crowned her with the 
 barren laurels of fame, has twined with them the 
 dull poppies of oblivion, let us turn from the mere 
 memory of a poetess to one whose song still remains 
 to us as an imperishable glory of our literature ; to 
 her who heard the cry of the children from dark 
 mine and crowded factory, and made England weep 
 over its little ones ; ' who in the feigned sonnets 
 from the Portuguese ^^ sang of the spiritual mystery 
 of Love, and of the intellectual gifts that Love 
 
76 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 brings to the soul ; who had faith in all that is 
 worthy, and enthusiasm for all that is great, and 
 pity for all that suffers ; who wrote the Vision of 
 Poets, and Casa Guidi Windows and Aurora Leigh}^ 
 As one, to whom I owe my love of poetry no 
 less than my love of country, has said of her: 
 
 Still on our ears 
 The clear "Excelsior" from a woman's lip 
 Rings out across the Apennines, although 
 The woman's brow lies pale and cold in death 
 With all the mighty marble dead in Florence. 
 For while great songs can stir the heart of men, 
 Spreading their full vibrations through the world 
 In ever-widening circles till they reach 
 The Throne of God, and song becomes a prayer, 
 And prayer brings down the liberating strength 
 That kindles nations to heroic deeds, 
 She lives — the great-souled poetess who saw 
 From Casa Guidi i^ windows Freedom dawn 
 On Italy, and gave the glory back 
 In sunrise hymns to all Humanity 1 
 
 She lives indeed, and not alone in the heart of 
 Shakespeare's England, but in the heart of Dante's 
 Italy also. To Greek literature she owed her 
 scholarly culture," but modern Italy created her 
 passion for Liberty. When she crossed the Alps,^* 
 she became filled with a new ardour, and from that 
 fine eloquent mouth, that we can still see in her 
 portraits, broke forth such a noble and majestic 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 77 
 
 outburst of lyrical song as had not been heard from 
 woman's lips for more than two thousand years. 
 It is pleasant to think that an English poetess was 
 to a certain extent a real factor in bringing about 
 that unity of Italy that was Dante's dream, and if 
 Florence drove her great singer into exile, she at 
 least welcomed within her walls the later singer that 
 England had sent to her. 
 
 If one were asked the chief qualities of Mrs. 
 Browning's work, one would say, as Mr. Swinburne 
 said of Byron's, its sincerity and its strength. 
 Faults it, of course, possesses. " She would rhyme 
 moon to table," used to be said of her in jest; and 
 certainly no more monstrous rhymes are to be 
 found in literature, than some of those we come 
 across in Mrs. Browning's poems. But her rugged- 
 ness was never the result of carelessness. It was 
 deliberate as her letters to Mr. Horne^* show very 
 clearly. She refused to sandpaper her Muse. She 
 disliked facile smoothness and artificial polish. In 
 her very rejection of art she was an artist. She 
 intended to produce a certain effect by certain 
 means, and she succeeded ; and her indifference to 
 complete assonance in rhyme often gives a splendid 
 richness to her verse, and brings into it a pleasur- 
 able element of surprise. 
 
 In philosophy she was a Platonist, in politics an 
 
78 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Opportunist. She attached herself to no particular 
 party. She loved the people when they were king- 
 like, and kings when they showed themselves to 
 be men. Of the real value and motive of poetry 
 she had a most exalted ideal. "Poetry," she says, 
 in the preface to one of her volumes, " has been as 
 serious a thing to me as life itself ; and life has 
 been a very serious thing. There has been no 
 playing at skittles for me in either. I never mis- 
 took pleasure for the final cause of poetry, nor 
 leisure for the hour of the poet. I have done my 
 work" so far, not as mere hand and head work 
 apart from the personal being, but as the com- 
 pletest expression of that being to which I could at- 
 tain." It certainly is her completest expression, and 
 through it she realizes her fullest perfection. " The 
 poet," she says, elsewhere, " is at once richer and 
 poorer than he used to be ; he wears better broad- 
 cloth, but speaks no more oracles." These words 
 give us the keynote of her view of the poet's mis- 
 sion. He was to utter Divine oracles, to be at 
 once inspired prophet and holy priest ; and as such 
 we may, I think, without exaggeration, conceive 
 her. She was a Sibyl delivering a message to the 
 world, sometimes through stammering lips, and 
 once at least with blinded eyes, yet always with the 
 true fire and fervour of lofty and unshaken faith, 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 79 
 
 always with the great raptures of a spiritual na- 
 ture, the high ardours of an impassioned soul. As 
 we read her best poems we feel that, though 
 Apollo's shrine be empty and the bronze tripod over- 
 thrown, and the vale of Delphi desolate, still the 
 Pythia is not dead." In our own age she has sung 
 for us, and this land gave her new birth. Indeed, 
 Mrs. Browning is the wisest of the Sibyls, wiser 
 even than that mighty figure whom Michael An- 
 gelo has painted on the roof of the Sistine Chapel 
 at Rome, poring over the scroll of mystery, and 
 trying to decipher the secrets of Fate; for she 
 realized that, while Knowledge is Power, Suffering 
 is part of Knowledge. 
 
 To her influence, almost as much as to the higher 
 education of women, I would be incHned to attrib- 
 ute the really remarkable awakening of woman's 
 song that characterizes the latter half of our cen- 
 tury in England. No country has ever had so 
 many poetesses at once. Indeed, when one remem- 
 bers that the Greeks had only nine muses, one is 
 sometimes apt to fancy that we have too many. And 
 yet the work done by women in the sphere of 
 poetry is really of a very high standard of ex- 
 cellence. In England we have always been prone 
 to underrate the value of tradition in literature. In 
 our eagerness to find a new voice and a fresh mode 
 
8o DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 of music, we have forgotten how beautiful Echo 
 may be. We look first for individuality and person- 
 ality, and these are, indeed, the chief characteristics 
 of the masterpieces of our literature, either in prose 
 or verse ; but deliberate culture and a study of the 
 best models, if united to an artistic temperament 
 and a nature susceptible of exquisite impressions, 
 may produce much that is admirable, much that is 
 worthy of phrase. It would be quite impossible to 
 give a complete catalogue of all the women who since 
 Mrs. Browning's day have tried lute and lyre. Mrs. 
 Pfeifler, Mrs. Hamilton-King, Mrs. Augusta Web- 
 ster, Graham Tomson, Miss Mary Robinson, Jean 
 Ingelow, Miss May Kendall, Miss Nesbit, Miss 
 May Probyn, Mrs. Craik, Mrs. Meynell, Miss Chap- 
 man,^* and many others have done really good 
 work in poetry, either in the grave Dorian mode of 
 thoughtful and intellectual verse, or in the light and 
 graceful forms of old French'song, or in the roman- 
 tic manner of antique ballad, or in that " moment's 
 monument," as Rossetti called it, the intense and 
 concentrated sonnet. Occasionally one is tempted 
 to wish that the quick artistic faculty that women 
 undoubtedly possess developed itself somewhat more 
 in prose and somewhat less in verse. Poetry is for 
 our highest moods, when we wish to be with the 
 gods, and in poetry nothing but the very best 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 8 1 
 
 should satisfy us ; but prose is our daily bread, and 
 the lack of good prose is one of the chief blots on 
 our culture. French prose, even in the hands of the 
 most ordinary writers, is always readable, but Eng- 
 lish prose is detestable. We have a few, a very 
 few masters, such as they are. We have Carlyle," 
 who should not be imitated ; and Mr. Pater, ^° who, 
 through the subtle perfection of his form, is inimita- 
 ble absolutely ; and Mr. Froude, who is useful ; and 
 Matthew Arnold, who is a model ; and Mr. George 
 Meredith, ^^ who is a warning ; and Mr. Lang, who 
 is the divine amateur ; and Mr. Stevenson,^^ who is 
 the humane artist ; and Mr. Ruskin,^' whose rhythm 
 and colour and fine rhetoric and marvellous music 
 of words are entirely unattainable. But the general 
 prose that one reads in magazines and in newspa- 
 pers is terribly dull and cumbrous, heavy in move- 
 ment and uncouth or exaggerated in expression. 
 Possibly some day our women of letters will apply 
 themselves more definitely to prose. Their light 
 touch, and exquisite ear, and delicate sense of bal- 
 ance and proportion would be of no small service to 
 us. I can fancy women bringing a new manner 
 into our literature.^ 
 
 However, we have to deal here with women as 
 poetesses, and it is interesting to note that, though 
 Mrs. Browning's influence undoubtedly contributed 
 
82 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 very largely to the development of this new song 
 movement, if I may so term it, still there seems to have 
 been never a time during the last three hundred years 
 when the women of this kingdom did not cultivate, 
 if not the art, at least the habit, of writing poetry. 
 Who the first English poetess was, I cannot say. I 
 believe it was the Abbess Juliana Berners,^ who 
 lived in the fifteenth century ; but I have no doubt 
 that Mr. Freeman would be able at a moment's 
 notice to produce some wonderful Saxon or Nor- 
 man poetess, whose works cannot be read without 
 a glossary, and even with its aid are completely 
 unintelligible. For my own part, I am content 
 with the Abbess Juliana, who wrote enthusiastically 
 about hawking; and after her I would mention 
 Anne Askew,^* who, in prison and on the eve of 
 her fiery martyrdom, wrote a ballad that has, at any 
 rate, a pathetic and historical interest. Queen Eliz- 
 abeth's "most sweet and sententious ditty "^ on 
 Mary Stuart is highly praised by Puttenham, a con- 
 temporary critic, as an example of " Exargasia, or 
 the Gorgeous in Literature," which somehow seems 
 a very suitable epithet for a great Queen's poems. 
 The term she applies to the unfortunate Queen of 
 Scots, " the daughter of debate " has, of course, 
 long since passed into literature. The Countess of 
 Pembroke, 2* Sir Philip Sidney's sister, was much ad- 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 83 
 
 mired as a poetess in her day. In 16 13 "the 
 learned, virtuous, and truly noble ladie, Elizabeth 
 Carew,"^' published A Tragedie of Mariam, the 
 Faire Queene of Jewry, and a few years later the 
 " noble ladie Diana Primrose " wrote A Chain of 
 Pearl, which is a panegyric on the "peerless 
 graces" of Gloriana. Mary Morpeth, the friend 
 and admirer of Drummond of Hawthornden ; Lady 
 Mary Wroth,^" to whom Ben Jonson dedicated The 
 Alchemist; and the Princess Elizabeth," the sister 
 of Charles I, should also be mentioned. After the 
 Restoration, women applied themselves with still 
 greater ardour to the study of literature and the 
 practice of poetry. Margaret, Duchess of New- 
 castle,'^ was a true woman of letters, and some of 
 her verses are extremely pretty and graceful. Mrs. 
 Aphra Behn^ was the first English woman who 
 adopted literature as a regular profession. Mrs. 
 Katherine Philips,'* according to Mr. Gosse, in- 
 vented sentimentality. As she was praised by 
 Dryden and mourned by Cowley, let us hope that 
 she may be forgiven. Keats came across her poems 
 at Oxford when he was writing Endymion and 
 found in one of them " a most delicate fancy of the 
 Fletcher kind," but I fear that nobody reads " The 
 Matchless Orinda" now. Of Lady Winchilsea's '' 
 Nocturnal Reverie, Wordsworth said that, with the 
 
84 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 exception of Pope's Windsor Forest, it was the only 
 poem of the period intervening between Paradise 
 Lost and Thomson's Seasons that contained a single 
 new image of external nature. Lady Rachel Rus- 
 sell,'^ who may be said to have inaugurated the let- 
 ter-writing literature of England ; Eliza Haywood," 
 who is immortalized by the badness of her work, 
 and has a niche in The Dunciad ; and the Mar- 
 chioness of Wharton,^ whose poems Waller said he 
 admired, are very remarkable types, the finest of 
 them being, of course, the first named, who was a 
 woman of heroic mould and of a most noble dig- 
 nity of nature. Indeed, though the English poet- 
 esses up to the time of Mrs. Browning cannot be 
 said to have produced any work of absolute genius, 
 they are certainly interesting figures, fascinating 
 subjects for study. Amongst them we find Lady 
 Mary Wortley Montagu,'' who had all the caprice 
 of Cleopatra, and whose letters are delightful read- 
 ing; Mrs. Centilivre,*" who wrote one brilliant 
 comedy ; Lady Anne Barnard,** whose Auld Robin 
 Gray was described by Sir Walter Scott as " worth 
 all the dialogues Corydon and Phillis have together 
 spoken from the days of Theocritus downwards," 
 and is certainly a very beautiful and touching poem ; 
 Esther Vanhomrigh*'' and Hester Johnson,** the Va- 
 nessa and the Stella of Dean Swift's life; Mrs. 
 Thrale** the friend of the great Lexicographer; the 
 
ENGLISH POETESSES 85 
 
 worthy Mrs. Barbauld ;*^ the excellent Mrs. Hannah 
 More ;*^ the industrious Joanna Baillie ;" the admira- 
 ble Mrs. Chapone/* whose Ode to Solitude always 
 fills me with the wildest passion for society, and 
 who will at least be remembered as the patroness 
 of the establishment at which Becky Sharp was ed- 
 ucated ; Miss Anna Seward,*' who was called the 
 " Swan of Lichfield " ; poor L. E. L./° whom Dis- 
 raeli described in one of his clever letters to his 
 sister as "the personification of Brompton — pink 
 satin dress, white satin shoes, red cheeks, snub nose, 
 and her hair a la Sappho " ; Mrs. Radchffe,^^ who 
 introduced the romantic novel, and has conse- 
 quently much to answer for; the beautiful Duchess 
 of Devonshire, ^^ of whom Gibbon said that she was 
 "made for something better than a Duchess"; the 
 two wonderful sisters. Lady Dufferin and Mrs. 
 Norton ;^^ Mrs. Tighe,^* whose Psyche Keats read 
 with pleasure ; Constantia Grierson,^' a marvellous 
 bluestocking in her time; Mrs. Hemans;'^ pretty, 
 charming " Perdita," " who flirted alternately with 
 poetry and the Prince Regent, played divinely in The 
 Winter's Tale, was brutally attacked by Gifford, and 
 has left us a pathetic little poem on the snowdrop ; 
 and Emily Bronte,^* whose poems are instinct with 
 tragic power, and seem often on the verge of being 
 great. 
 
 Old fashions in literature are not so pleasant as 
 
86 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERKIA 
 
 old fashions in dress. I like the costume of the age 
 of powder better than the poetry of the age of 
 Pope. But if one adopts the historical standpoint — 
 and this is, indeed, the only standpoint from which 
 we can ever form a fair estimate of work that is 
 not absolutely of the highest order — we cannot fail 
 to see that many of the English poetesses who pre- 
 ceded Mrs. Browning, were women of no ordinary 
 talent, and that if the majority of them looked upon 
 poetry simply as a department of belles lettres, so 
 in most cases did their contemporaries. Since Mrs. 
 Browning's day our woods have become full of sing- 
 ing birds, and if I venture to ask them to apply 
 themselves more to prose and less to song, it is not 
 that I like poetical prose, but that I love the prose 
 of poets. 
 
LONDON MODELS 
 
Most of our modern portrait painters are doomed to absolute 
 oblivion. They never paint what they see. They paint what the pub- 
 lic sees, and the public never sees anything. 
 
 — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 Not width but intensity is the true aim of modern art. 
 
 — De Profundis. 
 
 AH beautiful things belong to the same age. ... To those who 
 are preoccupied with the beauty of form nothing else seems of much 
 importance. — Pen, Pencil, and Poison. 
 
 Art is a passion, and, in matters of art. Thought is inevitably 
 coloured by emotion, and so is fluid rather than fixed, and, depend- 
 ing upon fine moods and exquisite moments, cannot be narrowed 
 into the rigidity of a scientific formula or a theological dogma. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 Whatever work we have in the nineteenth century must rest on 
 the two poles of personality and perfection. 
 
 — Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf: U Envoi. 
 
 While the poet can be pictorial or not, as he chooses, the painter 
 must be pictorial always. For a painter is limited, not to what he 
 sees in nature, but to what upon canvas may be seen. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part I. 
 
LONDON MODELS' 
 
 Professional models are a purely modern in- 
 vention. To the Greeks, for instance, they were quite 
 unknown. Mr. Mahaffy,^ it is true, tells us that 
 Perikles used to present peacocks to the great ladies 
 of Athenian society in order to induce them to sit to 
 his friend Pheidias,' and we know that Polygnotus* 
 introduced into his picture of the Trojan women 
 the face of Elpinike,^ the celebrated sister of the 
 great Conservative leader® of the day, but these 
 grandes dames clearly do not come under our cate- 
 gory. As for the old masters, they undoubtedly 
 made constant studies from their pupils and 
 apprentices, and even their religious pictures are 
 full of the portraits of their friends and relations, 
 but they do not seem to have had the inestimable 
 advantage of the existence of a class of people 
 whose sole profession is to pose. In fact the model, 
 in our sense of the word, is the direct creation of 
 
 Academic Schools. 
 
 89 
 
90 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Every country now has its own models, except 
 America. In New York, and even in Boston, a good 
 model is so great a rarity that most of the artists 
 are reduced to painting Niagara'' and millionaires. 
 In Europe, however, it is different. Here we have 
 plenty of models, and of every nationality. The 
 Italian models are the best. The natural grace of 
 their attitudes, as well as the wonderful picturesque- 
 ness of their colouring, makes them facile — often 
 too facile — subjects for the painter's brush. The 
 French models, though not so beautiful as the 
 Italian, possess a quickness of intellectual sympathy, 
 a capacity in fact of understanding the artist, which 
 is quite remarkable. They have also a great com- 
 mand over the varieties of facial expression, are 
 peculiarly dramatic, and can chatter the argot of 
 the atelier as cleverly as the critic of the Gil Bias. 
 The English models form a class entirely by them- 
 selves. They are not so picturesque as the Italian, 
 nor so clever as the French, and they have abso- 
 lutely no tradition, so to speak, of their order. Now 
 and then some old veteran knocks at a studio door, 
 and proposes to sit as Ajax defying the lightning, 
 or as King Lear upon the blasted heath. One of 
 them some time ago called on a popular painter 
 who, happening at the moment to require his ser- 
 vices, engaged him, and told him to begin by 
 
LONDON MODELS 
 
 91 
 
 kneeling down in the attitude of prayer. "Shall I 
 be Biblical or Shakespearean, sir?" asked the vet- 
 eran. "Well — Shakespearean," answered the 
 artist, wondering by what subtle nuance of ex- 
 pression the model would convey the difJerence. 
 "All right, sir," said the professor of posing,* and 
 he solemnly knelt down and began to wink with his 
 left eye ! This class, however, is dying out. As a 
 rule the model, nowadays, is a pretty girl, from 
 about twelve to twenty-five years of age, who knows 
 nothing about art, cares less, and is merely anxious 
 to earn seven or eight shillings a day without much 
 trouble. English models rarely look at a picture, 
 and never venture on any aesthetic theories. In 
 fact they realize very completely Mr. Whistler's 
 idea of the function of an art-critic, for they pass 
 no criticisms at all.' They accept all schools of art 
 with the grand catholicity of the auctioneer," and 
 sit to a fantastic young impressionist as readily 
 as to a learned and laborious academician. They 
 are neither for the Whistlerites, nor against them ; 
 the quarrel between the school of facts and the 
 school of effects^^ touches them not ; idealistic and 
 naturalistic are words that convey no meaning to 
 their ears; they merely desire that the studio 
 shall be warm, and the lunch hot, for all charming 
 artists give their models lunch. 
 
92 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 As to what they are asked to do they are 
 equally indifferent. On Monday they will don the 
 rags of a beggar-girl for Mr. Pumper, whose pa- 
 thetic pictures of modern life draw such tears from 
 the public, and on Tuesday they will pose in a 
 peplum for Mr. Phoebus, who thinks that all really 
 artistic subjects are necessarily B.C. They career 
 gaily through all centuries and through all cos- 
 tumes, and, like actors, are only interesting when 
 they are not themselves. They are extremely 
 good-natured, and very accommodating. "What 
 do you sit for?" said a young artist to a model 
 who had sent him in her card (all models by the 
 way have cards and a small black bag). " Oh, for 
 anything you like, sir," said the girl ; " landscape 
 if necessary! " 
 
 Intellectually, it must be acknowledged, they are 
 Philistines, but physically they are perfect — at 
 least some are. Though none of them can talk 
 Greek, many can look Greek, which to a nineteenth- 
 century painter is naturally of great importance. 
 If they are allowed, they chatter a great deal, but 
 they never say anything. Their observations are 
 the only banalitis heard in Bohemia. However, 
 though they cannot appreciate the artist as an artist, 
 they are quite ready to appreciate the artist as a 
 man. They are very sensitive to kindness, respect, 
 and generosity. A beautiful model who had sat 
 
LONDON MODELS 
 
 93 
 
 for two years to one of our most distinguished 
 English painters, got engaged to a Street vendor 
 of penny ices. On her marriage the painter sent 
 her a pretty wedding present, and received in re- 
 turn a nice letter of thanks with the following re- 
 markable postscript: " Never eat the green ices! " 
 
 When they are tired a wise artist gives them a 
 rest. Then they sit in a chair and read penny 
 dreadfuls, till they are roused from the tragedy of 
 literature to take their place again in the tragedy 
 of art. A few of them smoke cigarettes. This, 
 however, is regarded by the other models as show- 
 ing a want of seriousness, and is not generally ap- 
 proved of. They are engaged by the day and by 
 the half day. The tariff is a shilling an hour, to 
 which great artists usually add an omnibus fare. 
 The two best things about them are their extraor- 
 dinary prettiness and their extreme respectability. 
 As a class they are very well-behaved, particularly 
 those who sit for the figure, a fact which is curious 
 or natural according to the view one takes of 
 human nature. They usually marry well, and 
 sometimes they marry the artist. In neither case 
 do they ever sit again, t. For an artist to marry his 
 model is as fatal as for a gourmet to marry his 
 cook ; the one gets no sittings, and the other gets 
 no dinners*! 
 
 On the whole the English female models are very 
 
94 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 naive, very natural, and very good-humoured. The 
 virtues which the artist values most in them are 
 prettiness and punctuality. Every sensible model 
 consequently keeps a diary of her engagements 
 and dresses neatly. The bad season is of course 
 the summer, when the artists are out of town. 
 However, of late years some artists have engaged 
 their models to follow them, and the wife of one 
 of our most charming painters has often had three 
 or four models under her charge in the country, so 
 that the work of her husband and his friends should 
 not be interrupted. In France the models migrate 
 en masse to the little seaport villages or forest ham- 
 lets where the painters congregate. The English 
 models, however, wait patiently in London, as a 
 rule, till the artists come back. Nearly all of them 
 live with their parents, and help to support the 
 house. They have every qualification for being 
 immortalized in art except that of beautiful hands. 
 The hands of the English model are nearly always 
 coarse and red. 
 
 As for the male models, there is the veteran whom 
 we have mentioned above. He has all the tradi- 
 tions of the grand style, and is rapidly disappearing 
 with the school he represents. An old man who 
 talks about Fuseli^ is of course unendurable, and 
 besides, patriarchs have ceased to be fashionable sub- 
 
LONDON MODELS 95 
 
 jects. Then there is the true Academy model. He 
 is usually a man of thirty, rarely good-looking, but 
 a perfect miracle of muscles. In fact he is the 
 apotheosis of anatomy, and is so conscious of his 
 own splendour that he tells you of his tibia and his • 
 thorax, as if no one else had anything of the kind. 
 Then come the Oriental models. The supply of 
 these is limited, but there are always about a dozen 
 in London. They are very much sought after, as 
 they can remain immobile for hours, and generally 
 possess lovely costumes. However, they have a poor 
 opinion of English art, which they regard as some- 
 thing between a vulgar personality and a common- 
 place photograph. Next we have the Italian youth 
 who has either come over specially to be a model, 
 or takes to it when his organ is out of repair. He 
 is often quite charming with his large melancholy 
 eyes, his crisp hair, and his slim brown figure." It 
 is true he eats garhc, but then he can stand like a 
 faun and couch" like a leopard, so he is forgiven. 
 He is always full of pretty compliments, and has 
 been known to have kind words of encouragement 
 for even our greatest artists. As for the English 
 lad of the same age, he never sits at all. Appar- 
 ently he does not regard the career of a model as a 
 serious profession. In any case he is rarely if ever 
 to be got hold of. English boys too are difficult to 
 
96 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 find. Sometimes an ex-model who has a son, will 
 curl his hair, and wash his face, and bring him the 
 round of the studios, all soap and shininess. The 
 young school don't like him, but the older school 
 do, and when he appears on the walls of the -Royal 
 Academy he is called " The Infant Samuel." Occa- 
 sionally also an artist catches a couple of gamins in 
 the gutter and asks them to come to his studio. 
 The first time they always appear, but after that 
 they don't keep their appointments. They dislike 
 sitting still, and have a strong and perhaps natural 
 objection to looking pathetic. Besides they are 
 always under the impression that the artist, is 
 laughing at them. It is a sad fact, but there is no 
 doubt that the poor are completely unconscious of 
 their picturesqueness. Those of them who can be 
 induced to sit do so with the idea that the artist is 
 merely a benevolent philanthropist who has chosen 
 an eccentric method of distributing alms to the un- 
 deserving. Perhaps the School Board will teach 
 the London gamin his own artistic value, and then 
 they will be better models than they are now. 
 One remarkable privilege belongs to the Academy 
 model, that of extorting a sovereign from any newly 
 elected Associate or R. A. They wait at Burling- 
 ton House till the announcement is made, and then 
 race to the hapless artist's house. The one who 
 
LONDON MODELS 97 
 
 arrives first receives the money. They have of late 
 been much troubled at the long distances they have 
 had to run, and they look with strong disfavour on 
 the election of artists who live at Hampstead or at 
 Bedford Park, for it is considered a point of honour 
 not to employ the underground railway, omnibuses, 
 or any artificial means of locomotion. The race is 
 to the swift. 
 
 Besides the professional posers of the studio there 
 are the posers of the Row, the posers at afternoon 
 teas, the posers in politics, and the circus-posers. 
 All four classes are delightful, but only the last 
 class is ever really decorative. Acrobats and gym- 
 nasts can give the young painter infinite sugges- 
 tions, for they bring into their art an element of 
 swiftness, of motion, and of constant change that 
 the studio model necessarily lacks. What is inter- 
 esting in these " slaves of the ring " is that with 
 them Beauty is an unconscious result, not a con- 
 scious aim, the result in fact of the mathematical 
 calculation of curves and distances, of absolute pre- 
 cision of eye, of the scientific knowledge of the 
 equilibrium of forces, and of perfect physical train- 
 ing. A good acrobat is always graceful, though 
 grace is never his object ; he is graceful because he 
 does what he has to do in the best way in which it 
 can be done — graceful because he is natural. If an 
 
98 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 ancient Greek were to come to life now, which, con- 
 sidering the probable severity of his criticism, would 
 be rather trying to our conceit, he would be found 
 far oftener at the circus than at the theatre. A 
 good circus is an oasis of Hellenism in a world that 
 reads too much to be wise, and thinks too much to 
 be beautiful. If it were not for the running- 
 ground at Eton, the towing-path at Oxford, the 
 Thames swimming baths, and the yearly circuses, 
 humanity would forget the plastic perfection of its 
 own form, and degenerate into a race of short- 
 sighted professors, and spectacled precieuses/ Not 
 that the circus-proprietors are, as a rule, conscious 
 of their high mission. Do they not bore us with 
 the haute ecole, and weary us with Shakespearean 
 clowns ? Still at least they give us acrobats, and 
 the acrobat is an artist. The mere fact that he 
 never speaks to the audience, shows how well he 
 appreciates the great truth that the aim of art is 
 not to reveal personality but to please. The clown 
 may be blatant, but the acrobat is always beautiful. 
 He is an interesting combination of the spirit of 
 Greek sculpture with the spangles of the modern 
 costumier}^ He has even had his niche in the 
 novels of our age, and if Manette Salomon^^ be 
 the unmasking of the model, Les Freres Zemganno" 
 is the apotheosis of the acrobat. 
 
LONDON MODELS 
 
 99 
 
 As regards the influence of the ordinary model 
 on our English school of painting, it cannot be said 
 that it is altogether good. It is of course an ad- 
 vantage for the young artist sitting in his studio to 
 be able to isolate " a little corner of life," as the 
 French say, from disturbing surroundings, and to 
 study it under certain effects of light and shade. 
 But this very isolation leads often to mere man- 
 nerism in the painter, and robs him of that broad 
 acceptance of the general facts of life which is the 
 very essence of art. Model-painting, in a word, 
 while it may be the condition of art, is not by any 
 means its aim. It is simply practice, not per- 
 fection. Its use trains the eye and the hand of the 
 painter. Its abuse produces in his work an effect 
 of mere posing and prettiness. It is the secret of 
 much of the artificiality of modern art, this constant 
 posing of pretty people, and when art becomes 
 artificial it becomes monotonous.^' Outside the 
 little world of the studio, with its draperies and its 
 bric-a-brac, lies the world of life with its infinite, 
 its Shakespearian variety. We must, however, dis- 
 tinguish between the two kinds of models, those 
 who sit for the figure and those who sit for 
 costume. The study of the first is always excel- 
 lent, but the costume model is becoming rather 
 wearisome in modern pictures. It is really of very 
 
lOO DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 little use to dress up a London girl in Greek 
 draperies and to paint her as a goddess. The robe 
 may be the robe of Athens, but the face is usually 
 the face of Brompton. Now and then, it is true, 
 one comes across a model whose face is an exquisite 
 anachronism, and who looks lovely and natural in 
 the dress of any country but her own. This, how- 
 ever, is rather rare. As a rule models are absolutely 
 de notre siecle, and should be painted as such. 
 Unfortunately they are not, and as a consequence 
 we are shown every year a series of scenes from fancy 
 dress balls which are called historical pictures, but 
 are little more than mediocre representations of 
 modern people masquerading.^^ In France they are 
 wiser. The French painter uses the model simply 
 for study ; for the finished picture he goes to real 
 life. 
 
 However, we must not blame the sitters for the 
 shortcomings of the artists. The English models 
 are a well-behaved and hard-working class, and if 
 they are more interested in artists than they are in 
 art, a large section of the public is in the same 
 condition, and most of our modern exhibitions 
 seem to justify its choice. 
 
DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS 
 CRITICS 
 
It is absurd to have a hard-and-fast rule about what one should 
 read and what one shouldn't. More than half of modern culture 
 depends on what one shouldn't read. 
 
 — Phrases and Philosophies for the use of the Young; 
 also, The Importance of Being Earnest. 
 
 Morality is simply the attitude we adopt toward people whom we 
 personally dislike. 
 
 —Phrases and Philosophies for the use of the Young; 
 also, An Ideal Husband. 
 
 There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books 
 are well written or badly written. That is all. 
 
 — The Preface to '^ The Picture of Dorian Gray." 
 
 " It is in working within limits that the master reveals himself," 
 and the limitation, the very condition of any art is style. 
 
 — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 Start with the worship of form, and there is no secret in art that 
 will not be revealed to you. — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 Art only begins where Imitation ends. — De Profundis. 
 
 Common sense is the enemy of romance. Leave ns some unreality. 
 Don't make us ofifensively sane. 
 
 —Letter to The Thirteen Club. iSg^. 
 
"DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS 
 CRITICS' 
 
 To THE Editor of the St. James Gazette. 
 
 Sir: — I have read your criticism^ of my story 
 The Picture of Dorian Gray^ and I need hardly say 
 that I do not propose to discuss its merits or 
 demerits, its personalities or its lack of personality. 
 England is a free country, and ordinary English 
 criticism is perfectly free and easy. Besides, I 
 must admit that, either from temperament, or from, 
 taste, or from both, I am quite incapable of under- 
 standing how any work of art can be criticized from 
 a moral standpoint. The sphere of art and the 
 sphere of ethics are absolutely distinct and separate ; 
 and it is to the comparison between the two that we 
 owe the appearance of Mrs. Grundy, that amusing 
 old lady who represents the only original form of 
 humour that the middle classes of this country have 
 been able to produce. What I do object to most 
 strongly is, that you should have placarded the 
 
 103 
 
I04 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 town with posters on which was printed in large 
 letters : Mr. Oscar Wilde's Latest Advertisement ; 
 A Bad Case. 
 
 Whether the expression "A Bad Case " refers to 
 my book or to the present position of the Govern- 
 ment, I cannot tell. What was silly and unneces- 
 sary was the use of the term "Advertisement." 
 
 I think I may say without vanity — though I do 
 not wish to appear to run vanity down — that of all 
 men in England, I am the one who requires least 
 advertisement. I am tired to death of being adver- 
 tised. I feel no thrill when I see my name in 
 a paper.* The chronicler does not interest me any 
 more. I wrote this book entirely for my own 
 pleasure* and it gave me very great pleasure to 
 write it. Whether it becomes popular or not is a 
 matter of absolute indifference to me. I am afraid, 
 Sir, that the real advertisement is your cleverly 
 written article. The English public, as a mass, 
 takes no interest in a work of art until it is told that 
 the work in question is immoral, and your reclame 
 will, I have no doubt, largely increase the sale of 
 the magazine; in which sale, I may mention with 
 some regret, I have no pecuniary interest. I remain, 
 Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 i6 TiTE Street, Chelsea, June 25. 
 
•dorian gray" and its critics 105 
 
 IV 
 
 June 26, 1890. 
 To THE Editor of the St. James Gazette. 
 
 Sir: — In your issue of to-day you state that my 
 brief letter published in your columns is the " best 
 reply " I can make to your article upon Dorian Gray. 
 This is not so. I do not propose to fully discuss 
 the matter here, but I feel bound to say that your 
 article contains the most unjustifiable attack that 
 has been made upon any man of letters for many 
 years. The writer of it, who is quite incapable of 
 concealing his personal malice, and so in some meas- 
 ure destroys the effect he wishes to produce, seems 
 not to have the slightest idea of the temper in 
 which a work of art should be approached. To say 
 that such a book as mine should be "chucked into the 
 fire " is silly. That is what one does with newspapers. 
 
 Of the value of pseudo-ethical criticism in dealing 
 with artistic work I have spoken already. But as 
 your writer has ventured into the perilous grounds 
 of literary criticism, I ask you to allow me, in fair- 
 ness not only to myself but to all men to whom 
 literature is a fine art, to say a few words about his 
 critical method. 
 
 He begins by assailing me with much ridiculous 
 
I06 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 virulence because the chief personages in my stories 
 are "puppies." They are puppies. Does he think that 
 literature went to the dogs when Thackeray wrote 
 about puppydom? I think that puppies are ex- 
 tremely interesting from an artistic as well as from 
 a psychological point of view. They seem to me to 
 be certainly more interesting than prigs ; and I am 
 of opinion that Lord Henry Wotton is an excellent 
 corrective of the tedious ideal shadowed forth in the 
 semi-theological novels of our age.* 
 
 He then makes vague and fearful insinuations 
 about my grammar and my erudition. Now, as 
 regards grammar, I hold that, in prose at any rate, 
 correctness should always be subordinated to artistic 
 effect and musical cadence ; and any peculiarities of 
 syntax that may occur in Dorian Gray are deliber- 
 ately intended,* and are introduced simply to show 
 the value of the artistic theory in question. Your 
 writer gives no instance of any such peculiarity. 
 This I regret, because I do not think any such 
 instances occur. 
 
 As regards erudition, it is always difficult, even 
 for the most modest of us, to remember that other 
 people do not know quite as much as one does one- 
 self. I myself frankly admit I cannot imagine how 
 a casual reference to Suetonius and Petronius 
 Arbiter can be construed into evidence of a desire 
 
"DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS CRITICS 107 
 
 to impress an unoffending and ill-educated public 
 by an assumption of superior knowledge. I should 
 fancy that the most ordinary of scholars is perfectly 
 well acquainted with the Lives of the Ccesars and 
 with the Satyricon}" The Lives of the Ccesars, 
 at any rate, form part of the ordinary curriculum 
 at Oxford for those who take the Honour School 
 of LitercB Humaniores; " and as for the Satyricon, 
 it is popular even among passmen, though I suppose 
 they are obliged to read it in translations. 
 
 The writer of the article then suggests that I, in 
 common with that great and noble artist Count 
 Tolstoi, take pleasure in a subject because it is 
 dangerous. About such a suggestion there is this 
 to be said. Romantic art deals with the exception 
 and with the individual. Good people, belonging as 
 they do to the normal, and so commonplace, type, 
 are artistically uninteresting. But bad people are, 
 from the point of view of art, fascinating studies. 
 They represent colour, variety and strangeness. 
 Good people exasperate one's reason ; bad people 
 stir one's imagination. Your critic, if I must give 
 him so honourable a title, states that the people in 
 my story have no counterpart in life ; that they are, 
 to use his vigorous if somewhat vulgar phrase, 
 "mere catchpenny revelations of the non-existent." 
 Quite so. If they existed they would not be worth 
 
I08 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 writing about.^^ The function of the artist is to in- 
 vent, not to chronicle. There are no such people. 
 If there were, I would not write about them. Life 
 by its realism is always spoiling the subject-matter 
 of art.^^ The supreme pleasure in literature is to 
 realize the non-existent. 
 
 And, finally, let me say this. You have repro- 
 duced, in a journalistic form, the comedy of Much 
 Ado About Nothing, and have, of course, spoiled it 
 in your reproduction. The poor public, hearing 
 from an authority as high as your own, that this is 
 a wicked book that should be coerced and sup- 
 pressed by a Tory Government, will, no doubt, rush 
 to it and read it. But, alas ! they will find that it 
 is a story with a moral. And the moral is this : 
 all excess, as well as all renunciation brings its own 
 punishment. The painter, Basil Hallward, wor- 
 shipping physical beauty far too much, as most 
 painters do, dies by the hand of one in whose soul 
 he has created a monstrous and absurd vanity. 
 Dorian Gray having led a life of mere sensation and 
 pleasure, tries to kill Conscience, and at that moment 
 kills himself. Lord Henry Wotton seeks to be 
 merely the spectator of life. He finds that those 
 who reject the battle are more deeply wounded 
 than those who take part in it. Yes : There is a 
 terrible moral in Dorian Gray — a moral which the 
 
"DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS CRITICS 1 09 
 
 prurient will not be able to find in it, but which will 
 be revealed to all whose minds are healthy. Is this 
 an artistic error? I fear it is. It is the only error 
 in the book. 
 
 I remain, Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 iir 
 
 To THE Editor of the St. James Gazette. 
 
 Sir:— As you still keep up, though in a some- 
 what milder form than before, your attacks on me 
 and my book, you not merely confer on me the 
 right, but you impose upon me the duty to reply. 
 
 You state, in your issue of to-day that I misrep- 
 resent you when I said that you suggested that a 
 book -SO wicked as mine should be " suppressed and 
 coerced by a Tory Government." Now you did 
 not propose this, but you did suggest it. When 
 you declare that you do not know whether or not 
 the Government will take action about my book, 
 and remark that the authors of books much less 
 wicked have been proceeded against in law, the 
 suggestion is qujte obvious. In your complaint of 
 misrepresentation you seem to me. Sir, to have 
 been not quite candid. However, as far as I am 
 
I lO DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 concerned the suggestion is of no importance. 
 What is of importance is that the editor of a paper 
 like yours should appear to countenance the mon- 
 strous theory that the Government of a country 
 should exercise a censorship over imaginative lit- 
 erature. This is a theory against which I, and all 
 men of letters of my acquaintance, protest most 
 strongly ; and any critic who admits the reasonable- 
 ness of such a theory shows at once that he is 
 quite incapable of understanding what literature is, 
 and what are the rights that literature possesses. 
 A Government might just as well try to teach 
 painters how to paint, or sculptors how to model,** 
 as attempt to interfere with the style, treatment, 
 and subject-matter of the literary artist; and no 
 writer, however eminent or obscure, should ever 
 give his sanction to a theory that would degrade 
 literature far more than any didactic or so-called 
 immoral book could possibly do. 
 
 You then express your surprise that "so experi- 
 enced a literary gentleman " as myself should im- 
 agine that your critic was animated by any feeling 
 of personal malice towards him. The phrase " lit- 
 erary gentleman" is a vile phrase; but let that 
 pass. I accept quite readily your assurance that 
 your critic was simply criticizing a work of art in 
 the best way he could ; but I feel that I was fully 
 justified in forming the opinion of him I did. He 
 
"DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS CRITICS III 
 
 opened his article by a gross personal attack on 
 myself. This, I need hardly say, was an absolutely 
 unpardonable error of critical taste. There is no 
 excuse for it, except personal malice ; and you, Sir, 
 should not have sanctioned it. A critic should be 
 taught to criticize a work of art without making any 
 reference to the personality of the author. This, in 
 fact, is the beginning of criticism. However, it was 
 not merely his personal attack on me that made me 
 imagine that he was actuated by malice. What 
 really confirmed me in my first impression was his 
 reiterated assertion that my book was tedious and 
 dull. Now, if I were criticizing my book, which I 
 have some thoughts of doing, I think I would con- 
 sider it my duty to point out that it is far too 
 crowded with sensational incident and far too par- 
 adoxical in style, as far, at any rate, as the dialogue 
 goes. I feel that from a standpoint of art these 
 are the two great defects in the book. But tedious 
 and dull the book is not. Your critic has cleared 
 himself of the charge of personal malice, his denial 
 and yours being quite sufficient in the matter; but 
 he has only done so by a tacit admission that he 
 has really no critical instinct about literature and 
 literary work, which, in one who writes about lit- 
 erature, is, I need hardly say, a much graver fault 
 than malice of any kind. 
 
 Finally, Sir, allow me to say this. Such an 
 
112 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 article as you have published really makes one de- 
 spair of the possibility of any general culture in 
 England. Were I a French author, and my book 
 brought out in Paris, there is not a single literary 
 critic in France, on any paper of high standing, who 
 would think for a moment of criticizing it from an 
 ethical standpoint. If he did so he would stultify 
 himself, not merely in the eyes of all men of letters, 
 but in the eyes of the majority of the public. You 
 have yourself often spoken against Puritanism. 
 Beheve me, Sir, Puritanism is never so offensive 
 and destructive as when it deals with art matters. 
 It is there that its influence is radically wrong. It 
 is this Puritanism, to which your critic has given 
 expression, that is always marring the artistic 
 instinct of the English. So far from encouraging it, 
 you should set yourself against it, and should try to 
 teach your critics to recognize the essential difference 
 between art and life. The gentleman who criticized 
 my book is in a perfectly hopeless confusion about 
 it, and your attempt to help him out by proposing 
 that the subject-matter of art should be limited does 
 not help matters. It is proper that limitations 
 should be placed on actions. It is not proper that 
 limitations should be placed on art. To art belong 
 all things that are, and all things that are not, and 
 even the editor of a London paper has no right to 
 
"DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS CRITICS 1 13 
 
 restrain the freedom of art in the selection of subject- 
 matter. 
 
 I now trust, Sir, that these attacks on me and on 
 my book will cease. There are forms of advertise- 
 ment that are unwarranted and unwarrantable. — 
 I am, Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 16 TiTE St., S. W., June 37. 
 
 IV' 
 
 To THE Editor of the St. James Gazette. 
 
 Sir: — In your issue of this evening you publish 
 a letter from "A London Editor,"" which clearly 
 insinuates in the last paragraph that I have in some 
 way sanctioned the circulation of an expression of 
 opinion, on the part of the proprietors of Lippincott's 
 Magazine, of the literary and artistic value of my 
 story of The Picture of Dorian Gray. 
 
 Allow me. Sir, to state that there are no grounds 
 for this insinuation. I was not aware that any such 
 document was being circulated ; and I have written 
 to the agents, Messrs. Ward & Lock— who cannot, 
 I feel sure, be primarily responsible for its appear- 
 ance—to ask them to withdraw it at once. No pub- 
 lisher should ever express an opinion on the value 
 
114 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 of what he publishes. That is a matter entirely for 
 the literary critic to decide. I must admit, as one 
 to whom contemporary literature is constantly sub- 
 mitted for criticism, that the only thing that ever 
 prejudices me against a book is the lack of literary 
 style ; but I can quite understand how any ordi- 
 nary critic would be strongly prejudiced against 
 a work that was accompanied by a premature and 
 unnecessary panegyric from the publisher. A pub- 
 lisher is simply a useful middleman. It is not for 
 him to anticipate the verdict of criticism. 
 
 I may, however, while expressing my thanks to 
 the " London Editor " for drawing my attention to 
 this, I trust, purely American method of procedure, 
 venture to differ from him in one of his criticisms. 
 He states that he regards the expression " complete " 
 as applied to a story, as a specimen of the " ad- 
 jectival exuberance of the puffer!" Here, it seems 
 to me, he sadly exaggerates. What my story is, 
 is an interesting problem. What my story is not, 
 is a "novelette"^' — a term which you have more 
 than once applied to it. There is no such word in 
 the English language as novelette. It should never 
 be used. It is merely part of the slang of Fleet 
 street. 
 
 In another part of your paper, Sir, you state that 
 I received your assurance of the lack of malice in 
 
"DORIAN GRAY" AND ITS CRITICS 1 15 
 
 your critic " somewhat grudgingly." This is not so. 
 I frankly said that I accepted that assurance "quite 
 readily," and that your own denial and that of your 
 critic were " sufBcient." Nothing more generous 
 could have been said. What I did feel was that you 
 saved your critic from the charge of malice by con- 
 victing him of the unpardonable crime of lack of 
 literary instinct. I still feel that. To call my book 
 an ineffective attempt at allegory that, in the hands 
 of Mr. Anstey, might have been made striking, is 
 absurd. Mr. Anstey's sphere in literature, and my 
 sphere are different — very widely different. 
 
 You then gravely ask me what rights I imagine 
 literature possesses. That is really an extraordinary 
 question for the editor of a newspaper such as 
 yours to ask. The rights of literature. Sir, are the 
 rights of intellect. 
 
 I remember once hearing M. Renan say that he 
 would sooner live under a military despotism than 
 under the despotism of the church, because the 
 former merely limited the freedom of the body 
 while the latter limited the freedom of mind." You 
 say that a work of art is a form of action. It is not. 
 It is the highest mode of thought. 
 
 In conclusion. Sir, let me ask you not to force on 
 me this continued correspondence by daily attacks. 
 It is a trouble and a nuisance. As you assailed 
 
Il6 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 me first, I have a right to the last word. Let that 
 last word be the present letter, and leave my book, 
 I beg you, to the immortality it deserves. I am, 
 Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 i6 TiTE St., S. W., June 28. 
 
RUDYARD KIPLING AND THE 
 ANGLO-INDIANS 
 
From the point of view of literature, Mr. Kipling is a genius 
 who drops his aspirates. From the point of view of life, he is a 
 reporter who knows vulgarity better than any one has ever known 
 it. Dickens knew its clothes and its comedy. Mr. Kipling knows its 
 essence and its seriousness. He is our first authority on the sec- 
 ond-rate, and has seen marvellous things through key-holes, and his 
 back-grounds are real works of art. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 No doubt, everything that is worthy of existence, is worthy also 
 of art — at least, one would like to think so — but while echo or 
 mirror can repeat for us a beautiful thing, to artistically render a 
 thing that is ugly requires the most exquisite alchemy of form, the 
 most subtle magic of transformation. 
 
 — A Note on Some Modern Poets. 
 The Woman's World, December, 1888. 
 
MR. KIPLING AND THE 
 ANGLO-INDIANS ' 
 
 September 25, 1891. 
 To THE Editor of the Times. 
 
 Sir .-—The writer of a letter signed "An Indian 
 Civilian"^ that appears in your issue of to-day 
 makes a statement about me which I beg you to 
 allow me to correct at once. 
 
 He says that I have described the Anglo-Indians 
 as being vulgar. This is not the case. Indeed, I 
 have never met a vulgar Anglo-Indian. There may 
 be many, but those whom I have had the pleasure 
 of meeting here have been chiefly scholars, men in- 
 terested in art and thought, men of cultivation; 
 nearly all of them have been exceedingly brilliant 
 talkers; some of them have been exceedingly 
 brilliant writers. 
 
 What I did say— I believe in the pages of Tke 
 Nineteenth Century — was that vulgarity is the dis- 
 tinguishing note of those Anglo-Indians whom 
 
 119 
 
I20 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Rudyard Kipling loves to write about, and writes 
 about so cleverly. This is quite true and there is 
 no reason why Mr. Rudyard Kipling should not 
 select vulgarity as his subject-matter, or as part of 
 it. For a realistic artist, certainly, vulgarity is a 
 most admirable subject. How far Mr. Kipling's 
 stories really mirror Anglo-Indian society I have 
 no idea at all, nor indeed, am I ever much interested 
 in any correspondence between art and nature. It 
 seems to me a matter of entirely secondary im- 
 portance. I do not wish, however, that it should 
 be supposed that I was passing a harsh judgment 
 on an important and in many ways distinguished 
 class, when I was merely pointing out the charac- 
 teristic qualities of some puppets in a prose play. 
 I remain, Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde 
 
*'A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES" 
 
All bad art comes from returning to Life and Nature, and elevat- 
 ing them into ideals. Life and Nature may sometimes be used as 
 part of Art's rough material, but before they are of any real service 
 to art, they must be translated«into artistic conventions. The mo- 
 ment Art surrenders its imaginative medium, it surrenders every- 
 thing. — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 The marvels of design stir the imagination. In the mere loveli- 
 ness of the materials employed there are latent elements of culture. 
 Nor is this all. By its deliberate rejection of Nature as the ideal of 
 beauty, as well as of the imitative method of the ordinary painter, 
 decorative art not merely prepares the soul for the reception of true 
 imaginative work, but develops in it that sense of form which is the 
 basis of creative no less than of critical achievement. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 There is a danger of modern illustration becoming too pictorial. 
 What we need is good book-ornament — decorative ornament that 
 will go with type and printing, and give to each page a harmony and 
 unity of effect. — Some Literary Notes. 
 
 The Woman's World, January, i88g. 
 
 It is one thing to talk of the principles of art and quite another to 
 create a piece of artistic work. — Interview with Oscar Wilde. 
 New York World, August is, 1883. 
 
"A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES"' 
 
 To THE Editor of the Speaker. 
 
 Sir: — I have just, at a price that for any other 
 English sixpenny paper I would have consid- 
 ered exorbitant, purchased a copy of The Speaker 
 at one of the charming kiosks that decorate Paris ; 
 institutions, by the way, that I think we should at 
 once introduce into London. The kiosk is a de- 
 lightful object, and when illuminated at night from 
 within, as lovely as a fantastic Chinese lantern, es- 
 pecially when the transparent advertisements are 
 from the clever pencil of M. Cheret. In London 
 we have merely the ill-clad news-vendors, whose 
 voice, in spite of the admirable efforts of the Royal 
 College of Music to make England a really musi- 
 cal nation, is always out of tune, and whose rags, 
 badly designed and badly worn, merely emphasize 
 a painful note of uncomely misery, without con- 
 veying that impression of picturesqueness which is 
 the only thing that makes the spectacle of the pov- 
 erty of others at all bearable. 
 
 123 
 
i24 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 It is not, however, about the establishment of 
 kiosks in London that I wish to write you, though 
 I am of the opinion that it is a thing that the 
 County Council should at once take in hand. The 
 object of my letter is to correct a statement made 
 in a paragraph^ of your interesting paper. 
 
 The writer of the paragraph in question, states 
 that the decorative designs that make lovely my 
 book A House of Pomegranates^ are by the hand of 
 Mr. Shannon,* while the delicate dreams that sep- 
 arate and herald each story are by Mr. Ricketts.' 
 The contrary is the case. Mr. Shannon is the drawer 
 of the dreams, and Mr. Ricketts is the subtle and 
 fantastic decorator. Indeed, it is to Mr. Ricketts 
 that the entire decorative scheme of the book is due, 
 from the selection of the type and the placing 
 of the ornamentation, to the completely beautiful 
 cover that encloses the whole. The writer of the 
 paragraph goes on to state that he does not " like 
 the cover." This is, no doubt, to be regretted, 
 though it is not a matter of much importance, as 
 there are only two people in the world whom it is 
 absolutely necessary that the cover should please. 
 One is Mr. Ricketts who designed it; the other 
 is myself whose book it binds. We both admire it 
 immensely ! The reason, however, that your critic 
 gives for his failure to gain from the cover any im- 
 
"A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES" 125 
 
 pression of beauty, seems to me to show a lack of 
 artistic instinct on his part, which I beg you will 
 allow me to try to correct. 
 
 He complains that a portion of the design on the 
 left-hand side of the cover reminds him of an Indian 
 club with a house-painter's brush on top of it, 
 while a portion of the design on the right-hand side 
 suggests to him the idea of " a chimney-pot hat 
 with a sponge in it." Now I do not for a moment 
 dispute that these are the real impressions your 
 critic received. It is the spectator, and the mind of 
 the spectator, as I pointed out in the preface to The 
 Picture of Dorian Gray, that art really mirrors. 
 What I want to indicate is this ; the artistic beauty 
 of the cover of my book resides in the delicate 
 tracing, arabesques, and massing of many coral-red 
 lines on a ground of white ivory, the colour-effect 
 culminating in certain high gilt notes, and being 
 made still more pleasurable by the over-lapping 
 band of moss-green cloth that holds the book to- 
 gether. What the gilt notes suggest, what imitative 
 parallel may be found to them in that chaos that 
 is termed Nature, is a matter of no importance. ° 
 They may suggest, as they do sometimes to me, 
 peacocks and pomegranates and splashing fountains 
 of gold water, or, as they do to your critic,' sponges 
 and Indian clubs and chimney-pot hats. Such sug- 
 
126 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 gestions and evocations have nothing whatsoever to 
 do with the aesthetic quality and value of design. 
 A thing inNaturebecomes much lovelier if it reminds 
 us of a thing of Art, but a thing of Art gains no 
 real beauty through reminding us of a thing in 
 Nature. The primary assthetic impression of a work 
 of art borrows nothing from recognition or resem- 
 blance. These belong to a later and less perfect 
 stage of apprehension. Properly speaking, they are 
 not part of a real aesthetic impression at all, and the 
 constant preoccupation with subject-matter that 
 characterizes nearly all our English art criticism is, 
 what makes our art criticism, especially as regards 
 literature, so sterile, so profitless, so much beside 
 the mark, and of such curiously little account. 
 I remain. Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 Boulevard des Capucines, Paris. 
 
THE RELATION OF THE ACTOR 
 TO THE PLAY 
 
From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art 
 of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's craft 
 is the type. —The Preface to "The Picture of Dorian Gray." 
 
 The objective form is the most subjective in matter. Man is least 
 himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he 
 will tell you the truth. — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 As the inevitable result of this substitution of an imitative for a 
 creative medium, this surrender of an imaginative form, we have the 
 modern English melodrama. The characters in these plays talk on 
 the stage exactly as they would off it ; . . . they present the gait, 
 manner, costume, and accent of real people. . . . And yet how 
 wearisome the plays are ! They do not succeed in producing even 
 that impression of reality at which they aim, and which is their only 
 reason for existing. — The Decay of Lying. 
 
THE RELATION OF THE ACTOR 
 TO THE PLAY' 
 
 To THE Editor of the Daily Telegraph. 
 
 Sir: — I have just been sent an article that seems 
 to have appeared in your paper some days ago, in 
 which it is stated that, in the course of some remarks 
 addressed to the Playgoers' Club on the occasion 
 of my taking the chair at their last meeting, I laid 
 down as an axiom that the stage is only "a frame 
 furnished with a set of puppets." 
 
 Now it is quite true that I hold that the stage is 
 to a play no more than a picture frame is to a 
 painting; and that the actable value of a play has 
 nothing whatsoever to do with its value as a work 
 of art. In this century in England, to take an 
 obvious example, we have had only two great 
 plays — one is Shelley's Cenci, the other, Mr. 
 Swinburne's Atalanta in Calydon, and neither of 
 them is in any sense of the word an actable play. 
 
 129 
 
I30 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Indeed, the mere suggestion that stage presen- 
 tation is any test of a work of art is quite ridicu- 
 lous. In the production of Browning's plays, for 
 instance, in London and at Oxford, what was being 
 tested was obviously the capacity of the modern 
 stage to represent, in any adequate measure or 
 degree, works of introspective method and strange 
 or sterile psychology. But the artistic value of 
 Strafford or In a Balcony, was settled when 
 Robert Browning wrote their last lines. It is not, 
 Sir, by the mimes that the Muses are to be 
 judged.^ So far, the writer of the article in question 
 is right. Where he goes wrong is in saying that I 
 described this frame — the stage — as being furnished 
 " with a set of puppets." He admits that he speaks 
 only by report; but he should have remembered. 
 Sir, that report is not merely a lying jade, which I 
 personally could readily forgive her, but a jade who 
 lies without lovely inventions — a thing that I, at 
 any rate can forgive her never. 
 
 What I really said was that the frame we call the 
 stage was " peopled with either living actors or mov- 
 ing puppets," and I pointed out briefly, of neces- 
 sity, that the personality of the actor is often a 
 source of danger in the perfect presentation of a 
 work of art. It may distort. It may lead astray. 
 It may be a discord in the tone of symphony. For 
 
RELATION OF THE ACTOR TO THE PLAY 1 31 
 
 anybody can act. Most people in England do 
 nothing else. To be conventional is to be. a come- 
 dian. To act a particular part, however, is a very 
 different thing and a very difficult thing as well. 
 The actor's aim is, or should be, to convert his own 
 accidental personality into the real and essential 
 personality of the character he is called upon to 
 impersonate, whatever that character may be; ^ or 
 perhaps I should say that there are two schools of 
 actors — the school of those who attain their effect by 
 exaggeration of personality and the school of those 
 who attain it by suppression. It would take too 
 long to discuss these schools, or to decide which of 
 them the dramatist loves best. Let me note the 
 danger of personality, and pass on to my puppets. 
 There are many advantages in puppets.* They 
 never argue. They have no crude views about 
 art. They have no private lives. We are never 
 bothered by accounts of their virtues, or bored by 
 recitals of their vices; and when they are out of 
 an engagement they never do good in public or 
 save people from drowning ! Nor do they speak 
 more than is set down for them ! They recognize 
 the presiding intellect of the dramatist and have 
 never been known to ask for their parts to be writ- 
 ten up. They are admirably docile, and have no 
 personalities at all. I saw lately, in Paris, a per- 
 
132 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 formance by certain puppets of Shakespeare's 
 Tempest in M. Maurice Boucher's translation. 
 Miranda was the image of Miranda because an 
 artist had so fashioned her; and Ariel was true 
 Ariel, because so had she been made. Their gestures 
 were quite sufficient, and the words that seemed to 
 come from their little lips were spoken by poets 
 who had beautiful voices. It was a delightful per- 
 formance, and I remember it still with delight, 
 though Miranda took no notice of the flowers I 
 sent her after the curtain fell. For modern plays, 
 however, perhaps we had better have living play- 
 ers, for in modern plays actuality is everything. 
 The charm — the ineffable charm of the unreal is 
 here denied us, and rightly. 
 
 Suffer me one more correction. Your writer 
 describes the author of the brilliant fantastic lec- 
 ture on The Modern Actor as "a protege" of 
 mine. Allow me to state that my acquaintance 
 with Mr. John Gray ° is, I regret to say, extremely 
 recent, and that I sought it because he had already 
 a perfected mode of expression both in prose and 
 verse. All artists in this vulgar age need protection 
 certainly. Perhaps they have always needed it. 
 But the nineteenth century artist finds it not in 
 Prince, or Pope, or patron, but in high indifference 
 of temper ; in the pleasure of the creation of beau- 
 
RELATION OF THE ACTOR TO THE PLAY 1 33 
 
 tiful things and the long contemplation of them : 
 in disdain of what in life is common and ignoble; 
 and in such felicitous sense of humour as enables 
 one to see how vain and foolish is all popular 
 opinion, and popular judgment, upon the wonder- 
 ful things of art. These qualities Mr. John Gray 
 possesses in a marked degree. He needs no other 
 protection, nor indeed would he accept it. 
 I remain. Sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 London, Feb. 19th, 
 
THE CENSURE AND "SALOMfi" 
 
The mere artistic process of acting, the translation of literature 
 back again into life, and the presentation of thought under the 
 conditions of action, is in itself a critical method of a very high 
 order. — Literary and Other Notes. 
 
 The Woman's World, January, 1888. 
 
 An educated person's ideas of art are drawn naturally from what 
 art has been, whereas the new work of art is beautiful by being what 
 art has never been ; and to measure it by the standard of the past 
 is to measure it by a standard on the rejection of which its real 
 perfection depends. A temperament capable of receiving, through 
 an imaginative medium, and under imaginative conditions, new and 
 beautiful impressions, is the only temperament that can appreciate a 
 work of art. 
 
 No spectator of art needs a more perfect mood of receptivity than 
 the spectator of a play. — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 To disagree with three-fourths of England on all points is one of 
 the first elements of sanity, which is a deep source of consolation 
 in all moments of spiritual doubt. 
 
 — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 
 
 England is the home of lost ideas, — The Decay of Lying. 
 
THE CENSURE AND "SALOMfi"^ 
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH OSCAR WILDE 
 
 The Lord Chamberlain has declined to authorize 
 the representation of Mr. Oscar Wilde's French play 
 Salome,^ so the premiere will probably be given in 
 Paris instead of London. I should show (writes the 
 interviewer) but small appreciation of Mr. Wilde's 
 courtesy were T to describe the piece, or do m.ore than 
 refer incidentally to a conversation that would have 
 appeared in this column on the eve of the first per- 
 formance had Salome been licensed for representa- 
 tion. / may, however, be permitted to say thatjudg- 
 ing from what / saw at rehearsal, art has suffered 
 by the Lord Chamberlain's action; for with such 
 interpreters as Madame Sarah Bernhardt and M. 
 Albert Darmont there was no danger that the 
 author's dignified treatment of the Biblical story 
 would be degraded. I have had the advantage of 
 reading a great many forbidden plays, for in Paris 
 
 137 
 
138 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 the Censure is applied more frequently than in Lon- 
 don, and I have no hesitation in saying that in nine 
 cases out of ten the prohibitive measure is a mistaken 
 policy. It is not pretended that there is any religious 
 or moral gain to compensate for the wrong done to 
 art. Diametrically opposed standards seem to be set 
 up by the Censure in passing judgment on religious 
 or social dramas. If Justice does not suffer every 
 time some monstrous injustice is handled by the play- 
 wright, why should Religion suffer when the acts of 
 its oppressors are made the subject of artistic treat- 
 ment by the dramatic author? The public can be 
 trusted to save Religion from insult. 
 
 This is of course the expression of my own opinion. 
 It was with these thoughts running in my mind that 
 I called on Mr. Oscar Wilde yesterday to beg him to 
 modify an earlier interview he had given m-e in such 
 particulars as might be important in view of the 
 Lord Chamberlain's decision. 
 
 "Personally," said Mr. Wilde, "to have ray pre- 
 miere in Paris instead of in London is a great 
 honour, and one that I appreciate sincerely. The 
 pleasure and pride that I have experienced in the 
 whole affair has been that Madame Sarah Bernhardt 
 who is undoubtedly the greatest artist on any stage, 
 should have been charmed and fascinated by my 
 play and should have wished to act it." 
 
THE CENSURE AND "SALOM^" 1 39 
 
 I could not help feeling that Mr. Wilde's pride was 
 justified. It is the fashion of to-day to write single- 
 role pieces for Madame Bernhardt. The talents of 
 several authors have been almost exclusively devoted 
 to the task of fitting the talents of the artist. 
 Salome is not a one-role drama; it was not 
 written for Madame Bernhardt; indeed, it had 
 been in manuscript nearly six months before it was 
 submitted to her. 
 
 " Every rehearsal," continued Mr. Wilde, " has 
 been a source of intense pleasure to me. To hear 
 my own words spoken by the most beautiful voice 
 in the world has been the greatest artistic joy that 
 it is possible to experience.' So that you see, as far 
 as I am concerned, I care very little about the refusal 
 of the Lord Chamberlain's to allow my play to be 
 produced. What I do care about is this — that the 
 Censorship apparently regards the stage as the 
 lowest of all the arts, and looks on acting as a 
 vulgar thing. The painter is allowed to take his 
 subjects where he chooses. He can go to the great 
 Hebrew, and Hebrew-Greek literature of the Bible 
 and can paint Salome dancing, or Christ on the 
 cross, or the Virgin with her child. Nobody inter- 
 feres with the painter. Nobody says, ' Painting is 
 such a vulgar art that you must not paint sacred 
 things.' The sculptor is equally free. He can 
 
I40 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 carve St. John the Baptist in his camel hair, and 
 fashion the Madonna or Christ in bronze or in 
 marble as he wills. Yet nobody says to him, 
 ' Sculpture is such a vulgar art that you must not 
 carve sacred things.' And the writer, the poet — 
 he also is quite free. I can write about any subject 
 I choose. For me there is no Censorship. I can 
 take any incident I like out of sacred literature and 
 treat it as I choose and there is no one to say to the 
 poet, ' Poetry is such a vulgar art that you must 
 not use it in treating sacred subjects.' But there is 
 a Censorship over the stage and acting, and the 
 basis of that Censorship is that, while vulgar sub- 
 jects may be put on the stage and acted, while 
 everything that is mean and low and shameful in 
 life can be portrayed by actors, no actor is to be 
 permitted to present under artistic conditions, the 
 great and ennobling subjects taken from the Bible. 
 The insult in the suppression of Salome, is an 
 insult to the stage as a form of art and not to me." 
 
 "/ understand that Madame Bernhardt' s engage- 
 ments will not allow her to play Salome at an in- 
 vitation performance. We shall not see your play in 
 London, then ? " 
 
 " I shall publish Salome. No one has the right 
 to interfere with me, and no one shall interfere with 
 me. The people who are injured are the actors ; the 
 
THE CENSURE AND "SALOMfi" 141 
 
 art that is vilified is the art of acting. I hold that 
 this is as fine as any other art and to refuse it the 
 right to treat great and noble subjects is an insult to 
 the stage. The action of the Censorship in England 
 is odious and ridiculous. What can be said of a 
 body that forbids Massenet's Herodiade,'' Gounod's 
 La Reine de Saba^ Rubinstein's Judas Maccabceus,^ 
 and allows Divorfons '' to be placed on any stage ? 
 The artistic treatment of moral and elevating sub- 
 jects is discouraged, while a free course is given to 
 the representation of disgusting and revolting 
 subjects." 
 
 "How came you to write Salom^ in French?" 
 "My idea of writing the play was simply this: 
 I have one instrument that I know that I can com- 
 mand, and that is the English language. There 
 was another instrument to which I had listened all 
 my life, and I wanted once to touch this new 
 instrument to see whether I could make any beau- 
 tiful thing out of it. The play was written in Paris 
 some six months ago, where I read it to some 
 young poets, who admired it immensely. Of course 
 there are modes of expression that a Frenchman of 
 letters would not have used, but they give a certain 
 relief or colour to the play.® A great deal of the 
 curious effect that Maeterlinck produces comes from 
 the fact that he, a Flamand by grace, writes in an 
 
142 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 alien language. The same thing is true of Rossetti, 
 who, though he wrote in English, was essentially 
 Latin in temperament." 
 
 During this part of our interview the correspon- 
 dent of The Gaulois was present. The conver- 
 sation was consequently carried on in French, and 
 my colleague remarked on the admirable way that 
 Mr. Wilde spoke that language. This elicited 
 from him a splendid tribute to Paris, "the center of 
 art, the artistic capital of the world." 
 
 " If the Censure refuses Salome'," said Mr. Wilde, 
 for at the time of my first interview the decision of 
 the Lord Chamberlain had not been announced, " I 
 shall leave England and settle in France, where I 
 will take out letters of naturalization.' I will not 
 consent to call myself a citizen of a country that 
 shows such narrowness in its artistic judgment." 
 
 My colleague of The Gaulois tnade a movement 
 of surprise. 
 
 " I am not English ; I 'm Irish — which is quite 
 another thing." 
 
 To continue with Salome — "A few weeks 
 ago," said Mr. Wilde, " I met Madame Sarah Bern- 
 hardt at Sir Henry Irving's. She had heard of my 
 play and asked me to read it to her." I did so, and 
 she at once expressed a wish to play the title-role. 
 Of course it has been a great disappointment to 
 
THE CENSURE AND "SALOM^" 143 
 
 her and to her company not to have played this 
 piece in London. We have been rehearsing for 
 three weeks. The costumes, scenery, and every- 
 thing has been prepared, and we are naturally disap- 
 pointed ; still all are looking forward now to produ- 
 cing it for the first time in Paris, where the actor is 
 appreciated and the stage is regarded as an artistic 
 medium. It is remarkable how little art there is in 
 the work of dramatic critics in England. You 
 find column after column of description, but the 
 critics rarely know how to praise an artistic 
 work. The fact is, it requires an artist to praise 
 art ; any one can pick it to pieces. For my own 
 part, I don't know which I despise most, blame or 
 praise. The latter, I think, for it generally happens 
 that the qualities praised are those one regards 
 with the least satisfaction oneself." 
 
 Just as T was taking leave of Mr. Oscar Wilde, 
 the conversation went back to the question of prohi- 
 bition. 
 
 " What makes the Lord Chamberlain's action to 
 me most contemptible, and the only point in which 
 I feel at all aggrieved in the matter, is that he al- 
 lows the personaHty of an artist to be presented in 
 a caricature on the stage," and will not allow the 
 work of that artist to be shown under very rare 
 and very beautiful conditions." ^^ 
 
PARIS, THE ABODE OF ARTISTS 
 
In France they limit the journalist, and allow the artist almost 
 perfect freedom. Here we allow absolute freedom to the journalist, 
 and entirely limit the artist. English public opinion, that is to say, 
 tries to constrain and impede and warp the man who makes things 
 that are beautiful in effect, and compels the journalist to retail things 
 that are ugly or disgusting or revolting in fact. 
 
 — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always 
 from the noblest motive. — The Picture of Dorian Gray. 
 
 England has done one thing; it has invented and established 
 Public Opinion, which is an attempt to organize the ignorance of 
 the community and to elevate it to the dignity of physical force. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 The only thing that ever consoles man for the stupid things he 
 does is the praise he always gives himself for doing them. 
 
 — A Chinese Sage. 
 
PARIS, THE ABODE OF ARTISTS^ 
 
 June, 1892. 
 
 To Monsieur X of the Gaulois. 
 
 Sir .-—My resolution is deliberately taken. Since 
 it is impossible to have a work of art performed in 
 England, I shall transfer myself to another father- 
 land, of which I have long ago been enamoured. 
 There is but one Paris, vqyez-vous, and Paris is 
 France. 
 
 It is the abode of artists ; nay, it is la ville artiste. 
 I adore Paris.^ I also adore your language. To 
 me there are only two languages in the world, 
 French and Greek. Here [in London] people are 
 essentially anti- artistic and narrow-minded. Now 
 the ostracism of Salome will give you a fair notion 
 of what people here consider venal and indecorous. 
 To put on the stage any person or persons con- 
 nected with the Bible is impossible. On these 
 grounds the Censorship has prohibited Saint-Saens' 
 Samson et Dalila^ and Massenet's Herodiade} Ra- 
 
 147 
 
148 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 cine's superb tragedy of Athalie^ cannot be per- 
 formed on an English stage. Really, one hardly 
 knows whether the measure is the more hateful or 
 ridiculous. 
 
 Of course, I do not deny that EngHshmen pos- 
 sess certain practical qualities, but, as I am an 
 artist, these qualities are not those which I can ad- 
 mire. Moreover, I am not at present an English- 
 man. I am an Irishman," which is by no means the 
 same thing. 
 
 No doubt, I have English friends, to whom I am 
 deeply attached, but as to the English, I do not 
 love them. There is a great deal of hypocrisy in 
 England, which you in France, very justly find 
 fault with. 
 
 The typical Briton is Tartuffe, seated in his shop 
 behind the counter. There are numerous excep- 
 tions, but they only prove the rule. 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
SARAH BERNHARDT AND 
 " SALOMfi " 
 
TO SARAH BERNHARDT 1 
 
 How vain and dull this common world must seem 
 To such a One as thou, who should'st have talked 
 At Florence with Mirandola, or walked 
 
 Through the cool olives of the Academe : 
 
 Thou should'st have gathered reeds from a green stream 
 For Goat-foot Pan's shrill piping, and have played 
 With the white girls in that Phffiacian glade 
 
 Where grave Odysseus wakened from his dream. 
 
 Ah ! surely once some urn of Attic clay 
 
 Held thy wan dust, and thou hast come again 
 Back to this common world so dull and vain, 
 
 For thou wert weary of the sunless day. 
 The heavy fields of scentless asphodel. 
 
 The loveless lips with which men kiss in HelL 
 
SARAH BERNHARDT AND 
 " SALOME " ' 
 
 March, 1893. 
 To THE Editor of the Times. 
 
 Sir: — My attention has been drawn to a re- 
 view' of Salome*" which was published in your 
 columns last week. The opinions of English critics 
 on a French work of mine have, of course, Httle, 
 if any interest for me. I write simply to ask you 
 to allow me to correct a misstatement that appears 
 in the review in question. 
 
 The fact that the greatest tragic actress of any 
 stage now living saw in my play such beauty that 
 she was anxious to produce it, to take herself the 
 part of the heroine, to lend to the entire poem the 
 glamour of her personality, and to my prose the 
 music of her flute-like voice— this was naturally 
 and always will be a source of pride and pleasure 
 to me, and I look forward with delight to seeing 
 Mme Bernhardt present my play in Paris, that 
 
 151 
 
152 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 vivid centre of art, where religious dramas are 
 often performed. But my play was in no sense of 
 the word written for this great actress.^ I have never 
 written a play for any actor or actress, nor shall I 
 ever do so. Such work is for the artisan in litera- 
 ture, not for the artist. 
 I remain, Sir, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
THE ETHICS OF JOURNALISM 
 
Gilbert. — As for modern journalism, it is not my business to 
 defend it. It justifies its own existence by the great Darwinian 
 principle of the survival of the vulgarest. I have merely to do with 
 literature. 
 
 Ernest.— "But. what is the difference between literature and 
 journalism? 
 
 Gilbert. — Oh! journalism is unreadable and literature is not read. 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part I. 
 
 The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything except 
 what is worth knowing. Journalism, conscious of this, and having 
 trades man -like habits, supplies their demands. In centuries before 
 ours the public nailed the ears of journalists to the pump. That 
 was quite hideous. In this century journalists have nailed their 
 own ears to the keyhole. That is much worse. 
 
 — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling. To be natural is to 
 be obvious, and to be obvious is to be inartistic. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
THE SHAMROCK 
 
 The spreading rose is fair to view, 
 And rich the modest violet's hue. 
 Or queenly tulip filled virith devir. 
 And sweet the lily's fragrance ; 
 But there 's a flower more dear to me. 
 That grows not on a branch or tree, 
 But in the grass plays merrily 
 And of its leaves there are but three, 
 T'is Ireland's native Shamrock. 
 
 My country's flower, I love it well. 
 For every leaf a tale can tell, 
 And teach the minstrel's heart to swell 
 In praise of Ireland's Shamrock : 
 The emblem of our faith divine. 
 Which blest St. Patrick made to shine. 
 To teach eternal truth sublime, 
 And which shall last as long as time, 
 And long as blooms the Shamrock. 
 
 Oh ! twine a wreath of Shamrock leaves 1 
 They decked the banner of our Chiefs 
 And calmed the Irish Exile's griefs. 
 Our country's cherished Shamrock ; 
 The Muse inspired with words of praise 
 The poets of our early days. 
 To write in many a glowing phrase. 
 And sing in powerful, thrilling lays 
 The virtues of the Shamrock. 
 
He who has left his island home 
 Beneath a foreign sky to roam, 
 And in a foreign clime unknown, 
 How dear he loves the Shamrock. 
 When on the feast of Patrick's Day 
 He kneels within the church to pray 
 For holy Ireland far away. 
 He feels again youth's genial ray. 
 While gazing on the Shamrock. 
 
 The brightest gem of the rarest flowers, 
 
 That ever bloomed in Eastern bowers 
 
 Possesses for him not half the powers 
 
 That dwell within the Shamrock ; 
 
 Sweet memories, like refreshing dew. 
 
 The past with all its charm renew ; 
 
 The church, the spot where wild flowers grew. 
 
 The faithful friends, the cherished few 
 
 He left to cull the Shamrock. 
 
 Land of the West, my native isle. 
 May heaven's love upon you smile. 
 And banish foes that may beguile 
 The lovers of the Shamrock ; 
 May God for ever cherish thee 
 In peace and love and harmony. 
 And rank thee proud mid nations free, 
 Thus pray thy children fervently 
 For Ireland and the Shamrock. 
 
 (Signed) OscAR Wilde. 
 
THE ETHICS OF JOURNALISM' 
 
 I 
 
 To THE Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Sir : — Will you allow me to draw your attention 
 to a very interesting example of the ethics of mod- 
 ern journalism, a quality of which we have all heard 
 so much and seen so little? 
 
 About a month ago Mr. T. P. O'Connor pub- 
 lished in The Sunday Sun some doggerel verses 
 entitled The Shamrock,^ and had the amusing 
 impertinence to append my name to them as their 
 author. As for some years past all kinds of scur- 
 rilous personal attacks had been made on me in Mr. 
 O'Connor's newspapers, I determined to take no 
 notice at all of the incident. 
 
 Enraged, however, by my courteous silence, Mr. 
 O'Connor returns to the charge this week. He 
 now solemnly accuses me of plagiarizing* the poem 
 he had the vulgarity to attribute to me. 
 
 157 
 
158 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 This seems to me to pass beyond even those 
 bounds of coarse humour and coarser malice that 
 are, by the contempt of all, conceded to the ordi- 
 nary journalist, and it is really distressing to find 
 so low a standard of ethics in a Sunday newspaper. 
 I remain. Sir, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 II* 
 
 To THE Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Sir : — The assistant editor of The Weekly Sun, 
 on whom seems to devolve the arduous duty of 
 writing Mr. T. P. O'Connor's apologies for him,^ 
 does not, I observe with regret, place that gentle- 
 man's conduct in any more attractive or more hon- 
 ourable light by the attempted explanation that 
 appears in the letter published in your issue of 
 to-day. For the future it would be much better if 
 Mr. O'Connor could always write his own apolo- 
 gies. That he can do so exceedingly well, no one 
 is more ready to admit than myself. I happen to 
 possess one from him. 
 
 The assistant editor's explanation, stripped of its 
 unnecessary verbiage, amounts to this: it is now 
 stated that some months ago, somebody, whose 
 
THE ETHICS OF JOURNALISM 159 
 
 name, observe, is not given, forwarded to the office 
 of The Weekly Sun a manuscript in his own hand- 
 writing, containing some fifth-rate verses with my 
 name appended to them as their author. The as- 
 sistant editor frankly admits that they had grave 
 doubts about my being capable of such an astound- 
 ing production. To me, I must candidly say, it 
 seems more probable that they never for a single 
 moment believed that the verses were from 
 my pen. Literary instinct is, of course, a rare 
 thing, and it would be too much to expect any true 
 literary instinct to be found among the members 
 of the staff of an ordinary newspaper; but had Mr. 
 O'Connor really thought that the production, such 
 as it is, was mine, he would naturally have asked 
 my permission before publishing it. Great license 
 of comment and attack of every kind is allowed 
 nowadays to newspapers, but no respectable editor 
 would dream of printing and publishing a man's 
 work without first obtaining his consent. 
 
 Mr. O'Connor's conduct in accusing me of 
 plagiarism when it was proved to him on unimpeach- 
 able authority that the verses he had vulgarly 
 attributed to me were not by me at all, I have 
 already commented on. It is perhaps left to the 
 laughter of the gods and the sorrow of men. I 
 would like, however, to point out that when Mr. 
 
l6o DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 O'Connor, with the kind help of his assistant editor, 
 states, as a possible excuse for his original sin that 
 he and the members of his staff " took refuge " in 
 the belief that the verses in question might conceiv- 
 ably be some very early and youthful work of 
 mine, he and the members of his staff showed a 
 lamentable ignorance of the nature of the artistic 
 temperament. Only mediocrities progress. An 
 artist revolves in a cycle of masterpieces, the first of 
 which is no less perfect than the last.* 
 
 In conclusion, allow me to thank you for your 
 courtesy in opening to me the columns of your 
 valuable paper, and also to express the hope that 
 the painful expose of Mr. O'Connor's conduct that I 
 have been forced to make, will have the good result 
 of improving the standard of journalistic ethics in 
 England. I am, Sir, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 Sept. 22, 1894. 
 
DRAMATIC CRITICS AND 
 
 "AN IDEAL HUSBAND" 
 
The work of art is to dominate the spectator ; the spectator is 
 not to dominate the work of art. 
 
 — The Soul of Man Under Socialism, 
 
 The tears that we shed at a play are a type of the exquisite ster- 
 ile emotions that it is the function of Art to awaken. We weep, 
 but we are not wounded. We grieve, but our grief is not bitter. 
 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 The spectator is not the arbiter of the work of art. He is one 
 who is admitted to contemplate the work of art, and, if the work 
 be fine, to forget in its contemplation all the egotism that mars him 
 —the egotism of his ignorance, or the egotism of his information. 
 
 — The Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 
 The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new 
 material his impression of beautiful things. 
 
 — The Preface to " The Picture of Dorian Gray." 
 
DRAMATIC CRITICS AND 
 "AN IDEAL HUSBAND"' 
 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH OSCAR WILDE 
 
 On the morning following the production of An 
 Ideal Husband,^ / met Oscar Wilde as he came 
 down the steps of a club at the top of St. James' 
 Street and I took advantage of the occasion to ask 
 him what he thought of the attitude of the critics 
 towards his play., 
 
 "Well," he replied, as he walked slowly down the 
 street, " for a man to be a dramatic critic is as 
 foolish and as inartistic as it would be for a man to 
 be a critic of epics or a pastoral critic, or a critic 
 of lyrics. All modes of art are one, and the modes 
 of the art that employs words as its medium are 
 quite indivisible. The result of the vulgar special- 
 ization of criticism is an elaborate scientific knowl- 
 edge of the stage — almost as elaborate as that of 
 the stage-carpenter and quite on a par with that of 
 
 163 
 
1 64 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 the call-boy— combined with an entire incapacity 
 to realize that a play is a work of art, or to receive 
 any artistic impressions at ail." 
 
 "Vou are rather severe upon dramatic criticism, 
 Mr. Wilde." 
 
 " English dramatic criticism of our own day has 
 never had a single success, in spite of the fact that 
 it goes to all the first nights." 
 
 " But," I suggested " it is influential." 
 
 " Certainly, that is why it is so bad." 
 
 " / don't think I quite " 
 
 " The moment criticism exercises any influence, 
 it ceases to be criticism. The aim of the true critic 
 is to try and chronicle his own moods, not to try 
 and correct the masterpieces of others." 
 
 "Real critics would be charming in your eyes, 
 then ?" 
 
 " Real critics ? Ah ! how perfectly charming 
 they would be. I am always waiting for their 
 arrival. An inaudible school would be nice. Why 
 do you not found it?" 
 
 / was momentarily dazed at the broad vista that 
 had been opened for me, but I retained my presence 
 of mind, and asked: 
 
 "Are there absolutely no real critics in London f " 
 
 "There are just two." 
 
 " Who are they ?" I asked eagerly. 
 
CRITICS AND "AN IDEAL HUSBAND" 1 65 
 
 Mr. Wilde, with the elaborate courtesy for which 
 he has always been famous, replied, " I think I had 
 better not mention their names ; it might make the 
 others so jealous." 
 
 " What do the literary cliques think of your 
 plays ? " 
 
 " I don't write to please cliques ; I write to please 
 myself. Besides I have always had grave suspicions 
 that the basis of all literary cliques is a morbid love 
 of meat-teas. That makes them sadly uncivilized." 
 
 " Still, if your critics offend you, why don't you 
 reply to them f " 
 
 " I have far too much time. But I think some 
 day I will give a general answer in the form of a 
 lecture in a public hall which I shall call Straight 
 Talks to Old Men." 
 
 " What is your feeling towards your audiences — 
 towards the public ? " 
 
 " Which public ? There are as many publics as 
 there are personalities." 
 
 "Are you nervous on the night that you are pro- 
 ducing a new play ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; I am exquisitely indifferent. My ner- 
 vousness ends at the last dress rehearsal; I know 
 then what effect my play, as presented upon the 
 stage, has produced upon me. My interest in the 
 play ends there, and I feel curiously envious of the 
 
1 66 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 public — they have such wonderfully fresh emotions 
 in store for them." 
 
 T laughed, but Mr. Wilde rebuked me with a look 
 of surprise. 
 
 " It is the public, not the play, that I desire to 
 make a success." 
 
 "But, I' in afraid I don't quite understand" — 
 
 "The public makes a success when it realizes 
 that a play is a work of art. On the three first 
 nights ' I have had in London, the public has been 
 most successful, and, had the dimensions of the stage 
 admitted of it, I would have called them before the 
 curtain. Most managers, I believe, call them be- 
 hind." 
 
 " / imagine then, that you don't hold with the 
 opinion that the public is the patron of the dramatist? " 
 
 "The artist is always the munificent patron of 
 the public. I am very fond of the public, and, 
 personally, I always patronize the public very 
 much." 
 
 " What are your views upon the much-vexed ques- 
 tion of subject-matter in artf " 
 
 " Everything matters in art except the subject." 
 
 When I recovered, I said, " Several plays have 
 been written lately that deal with the monstrous in- 
 justice of the social code of morality at the present 
 time." 
 
CRITICS AND "AN IDEAL HUSBAND" 167 
 
 " Oh," answered Mr. Wilde, with an air of 
 earnest conviction, " it is indeed a burning shame 
 that there should be one law for men and another 
 law for women. I think " — he hesitated, and a smile 
 as swift as Sterne's "hectic of a moment" flitted 
 across his face — " I think that there should be no 
 law for anybody." 
 
 " In writing, do you think that real life or real 
 people should ever give one inspiration ? " 
 
 " The colour of a flower may suggest to one the 
 plot of a tragedy; a passage in music may give 
 one the sestet of a sonnet ; but whatever actually 
 occurs gives the artist no suggestion. 
 
 "Every romance that one has in one's life is a 
 romance lost to one's art. To introduce real people 
 into a novel or a play is a sign of an unimaginative 
 mind,* a coarse, untutored observation and an entire 
 absence of style." 
 
 "lam afraid I can't agree with you, Mr. Wilde; 
 I frequently see types and people who suggest ideas 
 to ike." 
 
 " Everything is of use to the artist except an 
 idea." 
 
 After that I was silent, until Mr. Wilde pointed 
 to the bottom of the street and drew my attention to 
 the " apricot-coloured palace" which we were ap- 
 proaching. So I continued my questioning. 
 
1 68 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 "The enemy has said that your plays lack ac- 
 tion." 
 
 " Yes, English critics always confuse the action of 
 a play with the incidents of a melodrama. I wrote 
 the first act of A Woman of No Importance^ in 
 answer to the critics who said that Lady Winder- 
 mere's Fan^ lacked action. In the act in question, 
 there was absolutely no action at all. It was a 
 perfect act." 
 
 " What do you think is the chief point that critics 
 have missed in your new play f"'' 
 
 "Its entire psychology — the difference in the 
 way in which a man loves a woman from that in 
 which a woman loves a man ; the passion that women 
 have for making ideals (which is their weakness) 
 and the weakness of a man who dares not show his 
 imperfections to the thing he loves. The end of 
 Act I, and the end of Act II, and the scene in the 
 last act, when Lord Goring points out the higher 
 importance of a man's life over a woman's — to take 
 three prominent instances — seem to have been 
 missed by most of the critics. They failed to see 
 their meaning; they really thought it was a play 
 about a bracelet. We must educate our critics — 
 we must really educate them," said Mr. Wilde half 
 to himself. 
 
 "The critics subordinate the psychological in- 
 
CRITICS AND "AN IDEAL HUSBAND" 169 
 
 terest of a play to its mere technique. As soon as 
 a dramatist invents an ingenious situation, they 
 compare him with Sardou,^ but Sardou is an artist 
 not because of his marvellous instinct of stagecraft, 
 but in spite of it. In the third act of La Tosca, the 
 scene of torture, he moved us by a terrible human 
 tragedy, not by his knowledge of stage methods. 
 Sardou is not understood in England because he is 
 only known through a rather ordinary travesty of 
 his play Dora, which was brought out here under 
 the title of Diplomacy. I have been considerably 
 amused by so many of the critics suggesting that 
 the incident of the diamond bracelet in Act III of 
 my new play was suggested by Sardou. It does 
 not occur in any of Sardou's plays, and it was not 
 in my play until less than ten days before produc- 
 tion. Nobody else's work gives me any suggestion. 
 It is only by entire isolation from everything that 
 one can do any work. Idleness gives one the mood 
 in which to write, isolation the conditions. Con- 
 centration on one's self recalls the new and wonder- 
 ful world that one presents in the colour and cadence 
 of words in movement." 
 
 " And yet we want something more than literature 
 in a play," said I. 
 
 " That is merely because the critics have always 
 propounded the degrading dogma that the duty of 
 
1 70 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 the dramatist is to please the public. Rossetti did 
 not weave words into sonnets to please the 
 public, and Corot did not paint silver and grey- 
 twilights to please the public. The mere fact of 
 telling an artist to adopt any particular form of art 
 in order to please the pubHc, makes him shun it. 
 We shall never have a real drama in England until 
 it is recognized that a play is as personal and 
 individual a form of self-expression as a poem or a 
 picture." 
 
 "/ 'm afraid you don't like journalists? " I re- 
 marked nervously. 
 
 "The journaHst is always reminding the public 
 of the existence of the artist. That is unnecessary 
 of him. He is always reminding the artist of the 
 existence of the public. That is indecent of 
 him." 
 
 "But we must have journalists, Mr. Wilde." 
 
 " Why ? They only record what happens. What 
 does it matter what happens ? It is only the abiding 
 things that are interesting, not the horrid incidents 
 of every-day life. Creation for the joy of crea- 
 tion, is the aim of the artist, and that is why the 
 artist is a more divine type than the saint. The 
 artist arrives at his moment with his own mood. 
 He may come with terrible purple tragedies ;' he 
 may come with dainty rose-coloured comedies — 
 
CRITICS AND " AN IDEAL HUSBAND " 171 
 
 what a charming title! " added Mr. Wilde with 
 a smile — " I must write a play and call it A Rose- 
 Coloured Comedy y 
 
 " What are the exact relations between literature 
 and the drama?" 
 
 "Exquisitely accidental. That is why I think 
 them so necessary." 
 
 " And the exact relations between the actor and the 
 dramatist ? " 
 
 Mr. Wilde looked at me with a serious expression 
 which changed almost immediately into a smile, as 
 he replied, " Usually a Httle strained." 
 
 " But surely you regard the actor as a creative 
 artist ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Mr. Wilde with a touch of pathos 
 in his voice, "terribly creative — terribly creative!" 
 
 " Do you consider that the future outlook of the 
 English stage is hopeful?" 
 
 " I think it must be. The critics have ceased to 
 prophesy. That is something. It is in silence that 
 the artist arrives. What is waited for never suc- 
 ceeds; what is heralded is hopeless." 
 
 We were nearing the sentries at Marlborough 
 House, and T said : " Won't you tell me a little 
 more, please ? Let us walk down Pall Mall— ex- 
 ercise is such a good thing." 
 
 "Exercise!" he ejaculated with an emphasis 
 
172 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 which almost warrants italics. " The only possible 
 form of exercise is to talk, not walk." 
 
 And as he spoke, he motioned to a passing han- 
 som. We shook hands, and Mr. Wilde, giving me 
 a glance of approval, said : " I am sure that you 
 must have a great future in literature before you." 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " I asked, as I 
 flushed with pleasure at the prediction. 
 
 "Because you seem to be such a very bad inter- 
 viewer. I feel sure that you must write poetry. I 
 certainly like the colour of your necktie very much. 
 Good-bye." 
 
NOTES 
 
Where there is no exaggeration there is no love, and where there 
 is no love there is no understanding. It is only about things that 
 do not interest one, that one can give a really unbiased opinion ; and 
 this is no doubt the reason why an unbiased opinion is always abso- 
 lutely valueless. — Mr. Pater's Last Volume. iSgo. 
 
NOTES 
 
 NOTES FOR THE INTRODUCTION 
 
 Page X 
 
 (1) Cf. "I amused myself with being B.fldneur, a dandy, a man 
 of fashion." — De Profundis. 
 
 (2) Letter to James McNeill Whistler. The World, February 25, 
 1885; later in The Gentle Art of Making Enemies. 1890. (Page 163 
 of the 1904 edition) See Mr. Whistler's " Ten O' Clock," Note 12, 
 II, p. 199. 
 
 Page xi 
 
 (3) The Truth of Masks is the last essay of Intentions, though 
 the first issued in its original separate form, under the title of 
 Shakespeare and Stage Costume. The Nineteenth Century, No. 
 XCIX, May, 1885, Vol. XVII. 
 
 (*) This theory is propounded at some length in a brilliant study 
 entitled An Artist in Attitudes : Oscar Wilde, appearing in Studies 
 in Prose and Verse by Arthur Symons : 1904. This study has also 
 been translated into German by Franz Blei, and is included in his In 
 Memoriam. O. W. Second Edition, 1905. 
 
 (5) Cf. "There are always new attitudes for the mind, and new 
 points of view." — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 (6) The Decay of Lying, the first essay of Intentions, published 
 first in The Nineteenth Century, No. CXLIII, January, 1889. Vol. 
 XXV; later, in The Eclectic Magazine, February, 1889. It was 
 considerably extended at the time of its later appearance. 
 
 Page xii 
 (T) The Critic as Artist. Part II, the fourth essay of Intentions, 
 originally issued under the title of The True Function and Value of 
 Criticism. Concluded. The Nineteenth Century, No. CLXIII, 
 
 175 
 
176 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 September, 1890, Vol. XXVIII ; also, in Mr. Pater's Last Volume. 
 The Speaker, March 22, 1890, Vol. I. 
 
 (8) The Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray, first published 
 
 in The Fortnightly Review, No. CCXCI, N. S., March, 1891, Vol. 
 
 LV, N. S. 
 
 Page xiii 
 
 (9) I. Richard Le Gallienne, in The Academy, July 4, 1891. 
 II. Agnes Repplier in Essays in Miniature, Charles L. Web- 
 ster & Co., (1892) ; Houghton, Mifflin & Co. (Current Edition). 
 
 III. G. R. Carpenter in Three Critics : Mr. Howells, Mr. Moore 
 and Mr. Wilde. The Andover Review, December, 1891. 
 
 IV. Unsigned review in The Speaker, July 4, 1891, Vol. IV. 
 
 Page xiv 
 (I*) The first conspicuous reference made in Punch, occurred on 
 February 14, 1880, Vol. 78. It is entitled Nincompoopiana. The 
 Mutual Admiration Society. About seven cartoons of this series 
 vpere printed, with the illustrations by George Du Maurier and the 
 captions of F. C. Burnand. They celebrated the "aesthetic" affec- 
 tations of Maudle, Jellaby Postlethwaite and Mrs. Cimabue Brown. 
 Later on in 1881 and 1882, the references to Wilde became more 
 direct, as in Oscar Interviewed, January 14, 1882, Vol. 82, purport- 
 ing to be an account of his arrival in the port of New York. In 
 addition to the pictorial satire, there were frequent parodies of his 
 poems— which poems were attacked with great bitterness. 
 
 Page XV 
 
 (11) Oscar Wilde arrived in New York harbour on the Arizona of 
 the Cunard Line on January 2, 1882. For a characteristic account 
 of this event, read Ten Minutes with u. Poet. The New York 
 Times, Tuesday, January 3, 1882, page 5, cl. 6. 
 
 (12) Gilbert and Sullivan's Patience; or, Bunthome^s Bride. An 
 Entirely New and Original ^Esthetic Opera, was first produced at 
 the Opera Comique, London, on Saturday, April 23, 1881. In 
 America, it was first presented under the management of R. D'Oyly 
 Carte at the Standard Theatre, New York, September 22, i88i. 
 Reginald Bunthorne, a Fleshly Poet, the " Ultra-poetical, super- 
 aesthetical " young man with his knee-breeches and sun-flowers, was 
 
NOTES J 77 
 
 generally accepted as a burlesque of Oscar Wilde, On the other 
 hand, Mrs. Langtry, after attending a performance of Patience in 
 New York, is said to have expressed her surprise at this inter- 
 pretation of the character. "In England,'' she said, " Bunthorne 
 is dressed after a countryman of yours— Mr. Whistler, a very 
 distinguished artist. The tuft on the forehead and some other 
 peculiarities of the make-up are characteristic of him." (New York 
 Herald, Thursday, October 26, 1882, page 6.) 
 
 (13) The Colonel hy F. C. Burnand— an " aesthetic ' comedy, 
 was given its premiere at the Prince of Wales Theatre, London, 
 Wednesday, February 2, l88l. The American production was at 
 Abbey's New Park Theatre, Monday, January 16, 1882, with Lester 
 WaUack in the title-r61e. It was a satire on all the forms of 
 sestheticism, but Basil Giorgione, the Knight of the Lily, was made 
 to bear the brunt of the ridicule ; and because of the author's asso- 
 ciation with the Punch cartoons, this character was quite naturally 
 assumed to be a travesty upon Oscar Wilde. 
 
 (1*) Puck began with occasional references such as that in Fitz- 
 noodle in America for September 28, 1881, Vol. X. The more 
 systematic bombardment commenced with No. 253, January 11, 
 1882, when the entire last page was devoted to " The .(Esthete." In 
 addition to this tribute, the larger part of that number and the suc- 
 ceeding one were generously allotted to his reception at the hands of 
 " Fitznoodle " and "Hugo Dusenbury." This enthusiasm spent 
 itself by the middle of March, but not until it had given Mr. R. K. 
 Munkittrick the opportunity to unburden himself of a series of 
 really delightful parodies of Wilde's Impressions, to which he applied 
 such significant titles as "Impression Du Pork-Chop," "Impres- 
 sion Du Bull-Dog " and the like. These were pure fun, as was 
 Helen Gray Cone's really brilliant Narcissus in Camden. A Clas- 
 sical Dialogue, between Whitman and Wilde (The Century, No- 
 vember, 1882) ; but not so were the parodies which appeared in The 
 World under the general title of The j€.sthetic Boom, and signed 
 " OW! " However clever these were at times, they almost passed 
 the bounds of decency by the undue emphasis which their author 
 laid upon certain of the more amorous of Wilde's poems. It seems 
 strange that The World, which of all American journals treated 
 Wilde with the most courtesy, should have permitted the appear. 
 
1 78 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 ance of such verse on its editorial page. Harper's Weekly and Har- 
 per's Bazar, through the master hand of Thomas Nast, also ex- 
 ploited the foibles or peculiarities of the Apostle of jEstheticism and 
 even Life entered the lists in a modest way. But the most flagrant 
 example of so-called American Humour may be found in Ye Soul 
 Agonies in Ye Life of Oscar Wilde, a rare pamphlet of twenty-two 
 pages purporting to be a comic history of the poet, with a pictorial 
 cover, eight full-page illustrations and several sketches — all from 
 the pen of Charles Kendrick, and representing Wilde at all ages 
 from infancy. Although this pamphlet does not seem to have been 
 issued with any malice, it was hardly an example of good taste, espe- 
 cially when it is recalled that copies were hawked by vendors on the 
 streets outside the public halls in which Wilde lectured. 
 
 (15) There was none more ready than Wilde to recognize merit in 
 the work of others. Even The World verses, mentioned above, are 
 referred to in a personal letter (January, 1889), as "admirable 
 parodies." On this subject he goes on to say: "Parody requires 
 a light touch, a fanciful treatment, and, oddly enough, a love for 
 the poet whom it caricatures. One's disciples can parody one— no- 
 body else." 
 
 (1*) See Note 2, page 181, for Decorative Art in America. 
 
 Page xvi 
 (P) 7'/4^ i'KW.New York, Wednesday, January 18, 1882, page 2,cl. 2. 
 
 (18) The Sun,New York, Thursday, February 2, 1882, page 2, cl. 2. 
 
 (19) See Note 7, page 188, for Joaquin Miller, The Good 
 Samaritan. 
 
 (20) New - York Daily Tribune, Sunday, November S, 1 882, page 3, 
 els. 3-4. 
 
 Page xvii 
 
 (21) See Note 3, page 182, for Decorative Art in America. 
 
 (22) See Note i, page 181, for Decorative Art in America. 
 
 Page xviii 
 
 (23) The Preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray. See Note 8. 
 
 Page xix 
 
 (24) Cf. The second introductory keynote of Decorative Art in 
 America, page 2. 
 
 (25) The Decay of Lying. See Note 5, page 175. 
 
NOTES lyg 
 
 Page XX 
 
 (26) Cf. The third introductory keynote of Decorative Art in 
 America, page 2. 
 
 P) N'ew York Herald, Sunday, August I2, 1883, page 10, cl. 3. 
 
 (28) The Critic as Artist. Part II; or, in its earlier form in The 
 Nineteenth Century, September, 1890. 
 
 (29) The Soul of Man Under Socialism. The Fortnightly Review, 
 February, 1891, Vol. LV, O. S. ; or, in The Eclectic Magazine, April, 
 1891, Vol. LIU, N. S., and the several reprint editions in pamphlet 
 and book-form. 
 
 Page xxi 
 (3") The so-called Envoi is Wilde's Gallicism for the introduction 
 which he contributed to Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf, by Rennell 
 Rodd, a book of poems published through Wilde's agency in Phila- 
 delphia, 1882. Wilde was a friend of Rodd, an Englishman in the 
 diplomatic service ; but the rather unusual character of the first issue 
 of this book by J. M. Stoddart, made the author so conspicuous that 
 its publication is said to have caused a breach in their friendship. 
 The original edition was printed in brown ink on thin parchment, 
 interleaved with green tissue. The book appeared again in 1882 in 
 a more conventional form. The Envoi was reissued in 1904 as a 
 " Privately Printed" book in London; and in a choice edition of 
 50 copies by Thomas B. Mosher, Maine, in 1905. 
 
 (31) See Note 8, page 198, for Mr. Whistler's "Ten O'clock"; 
 also Note 9, page 202, for The Relation of Dress to Art. 
 
 Page xxii 
 
 (32) Wilde's theories are propounded in both his American 
 lectures on art (1882); in his two criticisms of Whistler's " 7>» 
 O'clock,'" included in this collection (18S5); The Soul of Man 
 Under Socialism (1891) ; as well as in a number of notes in The 
 Woman's World, 1887- 1889. 
 
 (33) See Note 6, page 198, for Mr. Whistler's "Ten O'Clock." 
 (3*) See James McNeill Whistler by H. W. Singer. Charles 
 
 Scribner's Sons, 1905, pages 74-5. 
 
 (35) See Note S, page 182, for Decorative Art in America; 
 also matter referred to, page 6. 
 
l8o DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Page zxiii 
 (36) See Note 6, page 198, for Mr. Whistler's "Ten O'clock." 
 (3^) See The Relation of Dress to Art, at the foot of page 53. 
 (^) The Critic as Artist. Part II, in Intentions; or its issue in 
 magazine form, September, 1890. 
 
 (39) The Soul of Man Under Socialism, February, 1891. 
 
 Page xxiv 
 (*") Cf. The fourth introductory keynote of Mrs. Langtry as 
 Hester Grazebrook, page 24. 
 
 Page xxvi 
 (*1) This occurs in a personal letter, dated Paris, May 24, 1898. 
 
 Page xxvii 
 (*2) The Saturday Review, December 8, 1900. Vol. XC. 
 («) The Critic as Artist. Fart II. 
 
NOTES FOR « DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA" 
 
 Page 3 
 
 (1) This discourse was delivered for the first time in New York 
 
 City, May, 1882. It was heralded by circulars of yellowish Japan 
 
 tissue, on which appeared a reproduction of the head from J. E. 
 
 Kelly's etching of Wilde (See Frontispiece of Be Profundis, 
 
 G. P. Putnam's Sons), and the following announcement: Art 
 
 Decoration. The Practical Application of The Principles of The 
 ^Esthetic Theory to Exterior and Interior House Decoration, 
 With Observations Upon Dress and Personal Ornaments. A 
 Lecture By Oscar Wilde. To Be Given At Wallack's, Thursday 
 Afternoon, May nth, at Half-Past Two O'Clock. 
 
 Earlier in the spring, he had lectured on the same general sub- 
 ject. In Omaha, for example, he referred to many of the American 
 houses as " illy designed, decorated shabbily and in bad taste, and 
 filled with furniture that was not honestly made and was out of 
 character." See also The Freeman's JoumaKJDyjiAin), Jan. 7, 1885. 
 (2) Oscar Wilde's first public appearance in America, under the 
 management of R. D'Oyly Carte, was on the occasion of his lecture 
 on The English Renaissance at Chickering Hall, Monday, 
 January 9, 1882, at 8 o'clock. An interesting account of this even 
 occurs in The New York World, Tuesday, January 10, 1882, page 2,^ 
 columns 2-3, and in The Nation, January 12, Vol. XXXIV. The 
 lecture was printed in The New -York Daily Tribune of Jan- 
 nary 10, page 2, and in The Sun, page l. From these sources it 
 has been reprinted more or less correctly in the following editions : 
 I. Poems by Oscar Wilde; also his Lecture on the English 
 Renaissance. The Seaside Library, New York. January 19, 1882. 
 (No. 1 183 of Vol. 58.) Pp. 32. 
 
 181 
 
1 82 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 II. Oscar Wilde's Poems and Lecture. Ogilvie's Popular 
 Reading. People's Library, New York, 1882. Pp. 30. 
 
 III. Poems by Oscar Wilde, together with his Lecture on the 
 English Renaissance. {Now first published) Varis, i^z- Pp. 216. 
 
 IV. Lecture on the English Renaissance. Rose Leaf and Apple 
 Leaf: L'Envoi. By Oscar Wilde. Portland, Maine. Thomas 
 B. Mosher. 1905. Pp. 42. 
 
 Page 4 
 (3) Between January 16 and May S, 1882, Wilde visited all the 
 important centres of the North and West. In most cases, he 
 lectured on The English Renaissance, varying his introduction and 
 conclusion to suit the audience. The lecture tour embraced among 
 other cities, Philadelphia, Washington, Baltimore, Boston, Hart- 
 ford, New Haven, Rochester (in the order named) ; Cincinnati, 
 Louisville,* St. Louis, Chicago, Racine, Milwaukee, St. Paul, San 
 Francisco, Denver, Kansas City and Omahf . * See page 65 and 
 Note. 
 
 Pages 
 
 (^) See Harper's Weekly, Saturday, September 9, 1882. No. 
 1342, Vol. XXVI. " Oscar Wilde on Our Cast-iron Stoves : An- 
 other American Institution sat down on."— Cartoon by Thomas Nast. 
 
 Page 6 
 (5) Cf. " The truths of art cannot be taught. They are revealed 
 only — revealed to natures which have made themselves receptive of 
 all beautiful impressions by the study and worship of all beautiful 
 things." — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 
 
 '7 
 
 (') For further expression of his beliefs as regards women's 
 clothes and their making, cf. Literaiy and Other Notes. The 
 Woman's World, February, 1888, or page 149 of Essays, Criti- 
 cisms and Reviews ; also. Pall Mall Gazette, or Pall Mall Budget 
 for October-November, 1884. 
 
 Page 8 
 C) See Harper's Bazar, Saturday, June 10, 1882. No. 23 of 
 Vol. XV. "Wilde on Us. Something To ' Live Up To ' in Amer- 
 
NOTES 
 
 183 
 
 ica."-Cartoonby Thomas Nast, representing Wilde with a miner's 
 hat and boots in one hand, etc. 
 
 Page 9 
 (^ Wilde himself, however, had the courage of his convictions 
 and caused a sensation by appearing at a Polo Game at Newport, 
 with a white slouch hat.— ^^ New York World, Sunday, July 
 16, 1882, page 6, cl. 3. He elaborated these ideas in his lectures on 
 dress in England in 1884. In a letter printed in the Pall Mall 
 Budget and Pall Mall Gazette for that year, he writes of head- 
 gear : " In a hat made on right principles one should be able to turn 
 the brim up or down according as the day is dark or fair, dry or wet, 
 etc."; and of foot-gear: "A boot should be made of soft leather 
 always, and if worn high at all, must be either laced up the front or 
 carried well over the knee : in the latter case one combines perfect 
 freedom for walking together with perfect protection against rain, 
 neither of which a short stiff boot will ever give one ; and when one 
 is sitting in the house, the long soft boot can be turned down, as the 
 boot of 1640 was." 
 
 Page 10 
 
 (*) This must refer to one of the many studies made for "The 
 Symphony in White, No. 4" or "The Three Girls." The final 
 design was a large panel painted some time in the early seventies 
 and is now in the possession of Mr. Charles L. Freer of Detroit. 
 It was originally intended to occupy the wall-panel opposite ' ' La 
 Princesse du Pays de la Porcelaine " in Mr. Leyland's dining-room. 
 (See below.) Mr. Whistler began to paint the finished picture on 
 more than one canvas with figures aboutlife size, and although the 
 painting "was never completed, Mr. Chapman owns a large canvas 
 which Mr. Whistler left half-finished when he went to Venice."— 
 The Art of James McNeill Whistler by T. R. Way and G. R. Den- 
 nis. Pages 26, 30-32 and lOO. The three first and better known 
 " Symphonies in White " were exhibited, 1863 - 7, as " The White 
 Girl," " The Little White Girl " and " Symphony in White, No. 3." 
 
 (1") The celebrated dining-room known as the " Peacock Room " 
 was in the residence of Frederick R. Leyland, 49 Prince's Gate 
 London. Whistler's decorative scheme in blue and gold was carried 
 ont by him in 1876-77. Most interesting allusions to this work axe 
 
1 84 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 made in The History of Modem Painting by Richard Mather, Vol. 
 3, page 662; Recollections and Impressions of James A. McNeill 
 Whistler by Arthur Jerome Eddy, pages 128 - 130 ; James McNeill 
 Whistler hy H. W. Singer, pages 12, 36; Whistler as I Knew Him 
 by Mortimer Menpes, pages 129 - 132 ; The Art of J. McNeill Whist- 
 ler by T. R. Way and G. R. Dennis, pages 31, 99-101 ; Pall Mall 
 Budget, June 16, 1892, Vol. 40; and Whistler's Peacock Room, 
 New York Herald, Magazine Section, June 17, 1904. Of these, the 
 last three contain illustrations of the panels. The raison d'etre for 
 the colour-scheme of this room was Whistler's painting " La Prin- 
 cesse du Pays de la Porcelaine " which hung over the mantel. This 
 was first exhibited at the Paris Salon of 1865 and is reproduced in 
 the volumes by H. W. Singer ; T. R. Way and G. R. Dennis ; Pall 
 Mall Budget, June 2, 1892; and Impressionist Painting by Wyn- 
 ford Dewhurst. Both this picture and the peacock decorations (ac- 
 quired in 1904) are now in the possession of Mr. C. L. Freer. 
 
 (11) This room is the Camera di San Paolo, Parma. At the bidding 
 of the abbess of the convent. Donna Giovanna Piacenza, Correggio 
 decorated her private room during the months of April — December, 
 1518. " From the cornice above the walls sixteen ribs rise to the 
 centre of the vault, forming a like number of lunettes. Correggio 
 covered the whole with frescoes, adapting his scheme of decoration 
 to the structure of the vault. The design is a bower of foliage 
 supported on a trellis of canes, with sixteen oval openings, through 
 which a joyous band of naked Amorini, moving apparently along 
 an outside gallery, are seen at play." — Antonio Allegri da Correggio. 
 His Life, His Friends, and His Tim.e. By Corrado Ricci, 1896. 
 Following page 160 is a plate illustrating the cupola of this room. 
 
 Page 13 
 
 (12) " Wars there must be always ; but I think that creating a 
 common intellectual atmosphere might make men brothers." — 
 Lecture on the English Renaissance. 
 
 Page 14 
 
 (13) See 'Oscar Wilde' in People I Have Met. Short Sketches 
 of Many Prominent Persons, by Mary Watson, San Francisco, 1890. 
 
NOTES 185 
 
 Cf. "In the Chinese restaurant, where these navvies meet to 
 have supper in the evening, I found them drinking tea out of china 
 cups as delicate as the petals of a rose-leaf, whereas at the gaudy 
 hotels I was supplied with a delf cup, an inch and a half thick."— 
 Impressions of America. Wandsworth, September, 1883. 
 
 Page IS 
 
 (W) Public Industrial Art School, a part of the public-school sys- 
 tem of Philadelphia. 
 
 (15) Charles Godfrey Leland, author, editor and journalist, born 
 in Philadelphia, August, 1824. His literary work extends over 
 such dissimilar fields as are represented by Hans Breitmann's Barty, 
 The English Gypsies and Their Language, Abraham Lincoln, saA 
 a series oi Art Manuals. 
 
 (16) Mr. Wilde here turned to an adjoining table and held up to 
 view the different articles which are mentioned. 
 
 (y) In a lecture on America and Art Schools, which Wilde de- 
 livered in London, April, 1884, he is reported to have expressed the 
 hope that a time would come when boys would prefer to look at a 
 bird or even draw one rather than throw "the customary stone." 
 
 In an earlier lecture. Impressions of America, September, 1883, he 
 said: "Boys and girls should be taught to use their hands to make 
 something, and they would be less apt to destroy and be mis- 
 chievous." 
 
NOTES FOR "JOAQUIN MILLER, THE GOOD 
 SAMARITAN " 
 
 Page 19 
 
 (1) Cincinnatus Heine Miller, known by the pen-name of Joaquin 
 Miller, which he assumed after he had written a paper in defence of 
 the Mexican bandit, Joaquin Murietta. Born in Indiana, Nov., 
 1841, his father moved to Oregon when he was nine years of age. 
 After an adventurous boyhood, which included an Indian campaign 
 in 1857, he graduated from Columbia College, Oregon, in 1858. 
 Admitted to the bar in i860, he started for the Idaho gold mines in 
 '61, but two years later he was back in Oregon as editor of The 
 Democratic Register at Eugene. He resumed practice of law in '64, 
 and for services against the Indians, was appointed Judge of Grant 
 County in '56. From 1870 to 1887 his life was spent in Europe, 
 and largely in New York and Washington, where he followed a lit- 
 erary career and published a number of poems (a collected edition 
 in 1882), some prose and several plays. Since 1887 he has made 
 his home in a cabin, which he calls " The Hights," from its position 
 on the green hills overlooking Oakland and Alameda. It is here in 
 the California which he loves, that he has dwelt in recent years, 
 except for the time when he served as a newspaper correspondent 
 in the Boxer Rebellion of 1900. 
 
 (2) Oscar Wilde delivered his Lecture on the English Renaissance 
 at the Grand Opera House, Rochester, N. Y., on the evening of 
 Tuesday, February 7th, 1882. By pre-arrangement among the stu- 
 dents, his reception was most disorderly — so insulting in fact, that 
 policemen were summoned to quiet the disturbance. For specific 
 details, see The NewYork Herald,Vft&a&s^y, February 8, 1882, page 
 ID ; The Boston Daily Globe, Thursday, February 9, 1882, page I ; 
 and The Boston Evening Transcript, same date, page 4. 
 
 Page 20 
 
 (3) Oscar Wilde and Joaquin Miller met for the first time at a 
 
 187 
 
1 88 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 reception given in New York by Mrs. Marion T. Fortescne on Fri- 
 day, January 13, 1882. Mr. Miller immediately extended the hand of 
 good-fellowship to the Irishman, although Wilde was already being 
 persecuted by almost the entire American Press. 
 
 (4) His first visit to London was in 1870, for the purpose of se- 
 curing a publisher for his poems. These were published by Long- 
 mans in 1871, under the title of Songs of the Sierras. He again 
 visited London in 1873, in which year were issued Songs of the Sun- 
 lands. It is said that he made a sensation by appearing in the cos- 
 tume of a vaquero ; he was much fSted and lionized, and called by 
 some "The American Byron." 
 
 (5) Wilde delivered his lecture in St. Louis at the Mercantile 
 Library Hall on Saturday, February 25, 1882. 
 
 Page 21 
 
 (') Cf. " But you must not judge of sestheticism by the satire of 
 Mr. Gilbert, any more than you judge of the strength and splen- 
 dour of sun or sea by the dust that dances in the beam or the bubble 
 that breaks on the wave." — Lecture on the English Renaissance. 
 
 Q) From the date of his first address up to that of the present letter, 
 his audiences, if never enthusiastic, were at least attentive and courte- 
 ous, except in Boston, Brooklyn and Rochester. The Rochester 
 episode has already been recorded. Wilde lectured at Boston Music 
 Hall on Tuesday, January 31, '82. The first rows of the orchestra 
 had been reserved by sixty Harvard students, who came, dressed 
 after the manner of Bunthorne in Patience, which at that time was 
 being played at the Standard Theatre, New York City. Instead, how- 
 ever, of showing any embarrassment, he completely turned the tables 
 by his witty sallies and good humour, thereby winning the esteem and 
 good-will of the audience. For an account of the lecture, refer to 
 any Boston newspaper for Feb. i, 1882; The Sun, New York, 
 Feb. 1st, or The New York World, Feb. 2nd. The most interesting 
 allusions are the editorials in The Boston Evening Transcript of 
 February 1st, and those of The Sun and The World of New York, 
 on Boston's reception of Wilde, in their issues of Feb. 2nd. Under 
 the latter date The Transcript had the fairness to supplement its first 
 editorial with an acknowledgment of Wilde's fine bearing in the 
 face of churlish provocation. To quote : " Mr. Wilde achieved a 
 
NOTES 189 
 
 real triumph and it was by right of conquest, by force of being a 
 gentleman in the truest sense of the word." 
 
 As regards the attitude of his Brooklyn audience at the Academy 
 of Music, Friday, February 3rd, it was merely unsympathetic and ill- 
 mannered in its interruptions of feigned applause. For details, 
 refer to The Sun, The New York World and The New York Herald 
 for February 4, 1882. 
 
 (8) At the date of this letter, these men and women included 
 General and Mrs. McClellan, John Boyle O'Reilly, George W. 
 Childs, Julia Ward Howe, Mrs. Robert H. Sherwood, Oliver 
 Wendell Holmes, Clara Morris, Louisa Alcott, Kate Field, Henry 
 Wadsworth Longfellow, all of whom extended to him some courtesy, 
 if not their hospitality. Later he became acquainted with many of 
 the most prominent people of this country and not least among them 
 General Grant, and the Reverend Henry Ward Beecher, whose 
 guest he became at his home in Peekskill, in the summer of 1882. 
 
 Page 22 
 
 (9) The "literaxY gamin," etc., to whom Wilde refers throughout 
 this letter was the author of an editorial, signed T. W. H. which ap- 
 peared in The Woman's Journal, Vol. XIII, No. 5, Saturday, 
 Feb. 4, 1882. This was an attack on the personality and the 
 theories of Wilde, terminating with the plea that he should be 
 socially ostracized. Extracts from this article were reprinted in the 
 New -York Daily Tribune, Sunday, February 5, 1882. To this, 
 Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, who had received Wilde in Boston, replied 
 in The Boston Daily Globe, February 15, page 4. This letter was 
 copied in The Boston Evening Transcript oi February 16, page 5: 
 "As Colonel H .... n in The Woman's Journal takes exception 
 to the entertainment of Mr. Oscar Wilde in private houses, ... I 
 as one of the entertainers alluded to . . . etc. Mr. Wilde is a 
 young man in whom many excellent people have found much to 
 like. ..." Mrs. Howe further proved her friendship for Wilde 
 by making him her guest at Lawton's Valley a part of the time that 
 he was at Newport, where he lectured at the Casino, July 15th. 
 The "T. W. H." episode was referred to later in an editorial en- 
 titled "A Stale Joke," Harfiet^s Weekly, No. 1335, July 22, 1882, 
 Vol. XXVI— an article in which Wilde was treated with customary 
 
I go DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 severity. Though Wilde's allusions to his slanderer are lacking 
 in restraint, it must be remembered that he was attacked without 
 just provocation by a man whose high position in the community 
 made this attack as injurious as it was undignified. It is interesting 
 to note that this is the only display of feeling recorded of his visit 
 in America. The one parallel expression of resentment occurs in 
 the Whistler-Wilde controversy of 1890. See Truth, Jan. 9, 1890, 
 and The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, page 336-42. 
 
 (1") So many were the " scribes," who ventured to express them- 
 selves upon Wilde's appearance and theories that it is difiicult to fix 
 upon the particular objects of his contempt. At the time of this 
 letter, however, the two papers that had been the most virulent in 
 their censure of him were The Washington Post and The Saturday 
 Evening Gazette, Boston. The first, published on Sunday, January 
 32nd, 1882, a most insulting cartoon. AVhen Colonel Morse, at 
 that period manager for Mr. Carte, wrote to the editor expressing his 
 indignation over such unjustifiable treatment, further insulting 
 comments were made at the time of the publication of his letter, 
 January 24th. As regards this very episode, the Chicago papers 
 were especially hostile to Wilde. They went so far (he writes to 
 Colonel Morse from Omaha) as to "accuse me of encouraging the 
 attacks on me, and of having 'corrected the proofs of the Washing- 
 ton attack and approved of the caricature before it was published ' — 
 These are the words of The Chicago Herald." Such accusations 
 were not unusual. The Gazette, in its issues of January 21st 
 and January 28th, indulged in nothing short of abusive invective, part 
 of which is quoted in The Boston Daily Globe for January 23rd and 
 30th. Under the first date, are quoted also extracts of a letter from one 
 who is represented as being "one of the foremost literary men of New 
 York." This is an anonymous and extremely priggish explanation 
 that literary New York refused to receive in its ranks the soi-disant 
 poet, who was trying to obtain admission to literary and social 
 circles by means cf letters of introduction secured through the 
 agency of his manager. This was palpably false, and subsequent to 
 the date of its original appearance in The Boston Transcript for 
 January 13th, called forth some comment and ridicule from The New 
 York World in an editorial under date of January 15th. 
 
 Apart from the two papers alluded to, the Press as a whole assumed 
 
NOTES 191 
 
 an attitude which was mainly tolerant or flippant or, at the worst, 
 satirical, though The Springfield Republican was occasionally insult- 
 ing in tone and The Boston Transcript rather offensive in the per- 
 sonalities with which its editorials bristled until after the Boston 
 lecture. 
 
 (11) Although Narcissus is one of the characters which Wilde uses 
 most frequently in simile, this is probably a direct retort to the 
 following passage in an editorial entitled Oscar Wilde's Prototypes, 
 which appeared in The Boston Evening Transcript, January 14, 
 l88z : " There has never been a lack of these creatures whose life 
 is passed in posturing. Narcissus is perhaps the earliest recorded 
 instance." 
 
 Note. The editor takes this occasion to acknowledge Mr. 
 Joaquin Miller's courtesy in consenting to the publication of his 
 letter to Oscar Wilde. 
 
NOTES FOR " MRS. LANGTRY AS HESTER 
 GRAZEBROOK" 
 
 Page 25 
 
 (1) This dramatic criticism was printed in The New York World, 
 Tuesday, November 7, 1882, page 5, cl. i. 
 
 (2) Mrs. Langtry made her American debut at Wallack's Thea- 
 tre, New York, on Monday evening, November 6, 1882. She played 
 the r61e of Hester Grazebrook in An Unequal Match, a comedy by 
 Tom Taylor. 
 
 (3) Cf. "Art is the mathematical result of the emotional desire 
 for beauty." — " Fera " and the Drama, page 36. 
 
 Page 26 
 (*) Helen of Troy, was, according to Euripides, the daughter of 
 Leda and Zeus. She is one of Wilde's favourite characters, alluded 
 to frequently in his essays and poems. Apropos of .both Helen 
 and Mrs. Langtry, Wilde is reported to have made the following 
 statement in an interview, chronicled in The Halifax Morning 
 Herald, October 10, 1882 : " I would rather have discovered Mrs. 
 Langtry than have discovered America. Her beauty is in outline 
 perfectly moulded. She will be a beauty at eighty-five. Yes, it 
 was for such ladies that Troy was destroyed, and well might Troy 
 be destroyed for such a woman.." 
 
 Page 27 
 (5) Albert Moore, born in York, 1841 ; died in London, 1892. 
 "From the Greeks he learnt the combination of noble lines, the 
 charm of dignity and quietude, while the Japanese gave him the 
 feeling for harmonies of colour, for soft, delicate, blended tones. By 
 a capricious union of both these elements he formed his refined 
 and exquisite style."— 7%^ History of Modem Painting, by Rich- 
 ard Mnther, VoL 3. 
 
 193 
 
194 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 C) Frederick, Lord Leighton, the classicist par excellence, bom 
 in Scarborough, 1830 ; died January, 1896. He was president of 
 the Royal Academy from 1879 to the date of his death. — 7'/4^ His- 
 tory of Modem Painting, by Richard Muther, Vol. 3. 
 
 Page 28 
 
 C) Mrs. Langtry, who was under the management of Mr. Ab- 
 bey, was to have made her debut at Abbey's New Park Theatre, 
 22nd Street and Broadway, on Monday evening, the 30th of October. 
 This theatre, however, was destroyed by fire with all of the scenery, 
 on that very afternoon. Through the courtesy and generosity of 
 Mr. Wallack, Mr. Abbey was enabled to present Mrs. Langtry ex- 
 actly one week later at the present Wallack's Theatre. There was 
 consequently only a very brief interval for the preparation of new 
 scenery. 
 
 Page 29 
 
 (*) Cf. "As a rule, the hero is smothered in bric-i-brac and palm 
 trees, lost in the gilded abyss of Louis Quatorze furniture, or re- 
 duced to a mere midge in the midst of marqueterie; whereas the 
 background should always be kept as a background, and colour sub- 
 ordinated to effect." — The Truth of Masks. 
 
 (9) The decorations of Madison Square Theatre in 1882, were by 
 Louis C. Tiffany & Co. The curtain to which Mr. Wilde alludes 
 was a very decorative scenic scheme in the Japanesque manner. 
 
 (1") See : I. Why either Claude or Titian ? a letter of protest 
 in The New York World, November 8, 1882, page 5, cl. 4. 
 
 II. Realism in Painting and in Drama, a, similar letter in The 
 New York World, Nov. 9, 1882, page 2, cl. 4. The first cites the 
 work of Salvator Rosa and Rubens as instances in which scenes and 
 figures are given equal prominence ; the second seeks to refute 
 Wilde by recalling his expressed approval of the stage-setting at 
 the London Lyceum and his plea for realistic dress. {Note. A 
 careful study of Wilde's theories of costume, etc., as presented in 
 The Truth of Masks, will show that he was not all inconsistent 
 in his point of view.) 
 
NOTES FOR "'VERA' AND THE DRAMA" 
 
 Page 33 
 
 (1) The play, Vera, or the Nihilists, a drama in a prologue and 
 four acts, was, if we are to believe an interviewer, written as early 
 as 1876. — The New York World, August iz, 1883. It was about 
 to receive ahearing in London, December, 1881, under the manage- 
 ment of Dion Boucicault, with Mrs. Bernard-Beere in the title-role, 
 when for a reason still unexplained, it was suddenly withdrawn, and 
 Wilde started for America. Current gossip had it that the socialistic 
 sentiments of which it was the expression, were offensive to the 
 Ambassador of the Czar, and that it was suppressed for political 
 reasons. This, however, has never been authenticated. (The New 
 York Times, December 26, 1881.) 
 
 We know that Wilde brought the manuscript of his play with 
 him to America at the time of his first visit, 1882 {New -York 
 Daily Tribune, Jan. 3, 1882), and that, among others, Lawrence 
 Barrett expressed his admiration for it. Wilde endeavored to place 
 the play through his manager, Mr. D'Oyly Carte, but whether 
 it was eventually through him that Wilde was successful, is ex- 
 tremely doubtful ; for he approached Mr. Wallack, Mr. Palmer and 
 a number of other managers before Miss Prescott accepted it. 
 
 A very small acting edition was privately printed in 1882, but 
 copies of this are now practically unobtainable. In an undated 
 letter, which Wilde addressed to Colonel Morse from Boston (prob- 
 ably in the autumn of 1882), he thanks his manager for "sending 
 the play to Washington." He adds : " I think to copyright under 
 your name would be a very good plan." This he follows with 
 directions for the distribution of a number of the copies. Mr. 
 Morse accounts for some twelve copies disposed of in this way. 
 
 Wilde returned to America in 1883 for the purpose of attending his 
 premiere, and reached New York on August nth. On Monday, 
 
 195 
 
196 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 August aoth, the play was produced for the first time at the Union 
 Square Theatre under the management of Marie Prescott's husband, 
 W. Perzel. The latter claimed to have spent some $10,000 on the 
 costumes, scenery, etc. ; but despite careful preparation and lavish ex- 
 penditure, the play proved a total failure. It was withdrawn after one 
 week's run, to the great loss of the manager who was said to have 
 contracted with Wilde for a run of 100 nights at $50.00 a perform- 
 ance. Miss Prescott, in a letter published in The New York Times 
 and The New York Sun, August 24, 1883, protested against the 
 attitude of the dramatic critics, which, she insinuated, was one of 
 pre-concerted condemnation. In Vera, Miss Prescott played the 
 title-rSle, the only woman's part in the play ; G. C. Boniface, the 
 Czar ; Lewis Morrison, the Czarevitch ; and Edward Lamb, Prince 
 Paul. 
 
 In 1902, a version of Vera was published in England pur- 
 porting to be printed from "the author's own copy, showing his 
 corrections of and additions to the original text. " In this it is stated 
 that " This play was written in 1881." The edition, which is 
 represented as a limited one of 200 numbered copies, privately 
 printed, was issued at 12s. 6d. 
 
 (2) It is nevertheless a fact that Mr. Wilde tried to secure Miss 
 Clara Morris for the part. In an unpublished letter to R. D'Oyly 
 Carte, he writes from St. Paul, Minnesota, March 16, 1882: "I 
 have received your letter about the Play : I agree to place it 
 entirely in your hands for production on the terms of my receiving 
 half the profits, and a guarantee of £200 paid down to me on 
 occasion of its production. As regards the cast, I am sure you see 
 yourself how well the part will suit Clara Morris. I am, however, 
 quite aware how ^j^«7if she is. ..." He also thought of Miss 
 Rose Coghlan for the part, and in this connection it is interesting 
 to recall that it was she who secured, for America, his fifth play, 
 A Woman of No Importance. But it was on Miss Morris he had 
 set his heart. He writes again to Mr. Carte in 1882: "I feel it 
 will succeed, if she ( Clara Morris ) act and you manage. " And in 
 the same letter regarding the other rdles : "Could you get Kyrle 
 Bellew or Johnson Forbes Robertson for the Czarevitch? Flock- 
 ton would be an able Prince Paul. " 
 
NOTES FOR "MR. WHISTLER'S 'TEN O'CLOCK"' 
 
 Page 41 
 
 (1) This review appeared first in The Pall Mall Gazette, Saturday, 
 February 21, 1885, and was later included in the weekly issue of 
 The Pall Mall Budget, Friday, February 27, 1885, Vol. 33. An 
 extract also appears in The Gentle Art of Making Enemies. 
 
 (2) Mr. Whistler's lecture on art, which he whimsically termed 
 Ten O'clock, because that was the hour of his address, was delivered 
 in London, February 20, 1885; at Cambridge, March 24th; at 
 Oxford, April 30th. It was published in pamphlet form by 
 Chatto & Windus, 1888; also by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. in 
 America; and is included in The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, 
 page 135- 
 Page 42 
 
 O Cf. " There was something almost sublime in his inhuman 
 devotion to the purely visible aspect of people, as of a great surgeon 
 who will not allow human pity to obstruct the operation of his 
 craft." Mr. Whistler. The AthencBum, No. 3952, July 25, 1903. 
 
 Page 43 
 C*) It must be remembered that not long before this, in October, 
 1884, Wilde had delivered his lectures on Dress, in which he 
 suggested certain radical reforms in the costumes of men and 
 women, thereby giving rise to an interesting controversy in the 
 pages of The Pall Mall Gazette, which lasted till the middle of 
 November. 
 
 (5) Cf. "Velasquez, whose Infantas clad in inaesthetic hoops, 
 are, as works of Art, of the same quality as the Elgin Marbles."— 
 Whistler's "Ten O'Clock." 
 
 Page 44 
 
 (6) Of Whistler's attitude towards the development of public 
 taste, Swinburne expressed himself as follows, in his article entitled 
 
 197 
 
198 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Mr. Whistler's Lecture on Art: " But it does not follow that all 
 efforts to widen the sphere of appreciation, to enlarge the circle of 
 intelligence must needs be puny and unprofitable. Good intentions 
 will not secure results ; but neither — strange as it may seem — will 
 the absence of good intentions." The Fortnightly Review, June, 
 1888, Vol. 49, pages 745-53; or The Eclectic Magazine, August, 
 1888, Vol. 48, N. S., pages 154- 158. To this Whistler replied in 
 The World (London), June 3, 1888. See The Gentle Art of Making 
 Enemies: Freeing a Last Friend ; also "Et tu. Brute ! " 
 
 C) " We have then but to wait — until, with the mark of the Gods 
 upon him, there come among us again the chosen — who shall con- 
 tinue what has gone before. Satisfied that, even were he never to 
 appear, the story of the beautiful is already complete — hewn in the 
 marbles of the Parthenon — and broidered, with the birds, upon the 
 fan of Hokusai, at the foot of Fusi-yama." — Whistler's "Ten 
 O'clock." (The Conclusion.) 
 
 (8) Cf. " The master stands in no relation to the moment at 
 which he occurs— a monument of isolation — hinting at sadness — 
 having no part in the progress of his fellow-men."— Whistler's "Ten 
 O'clock." 
 
 Page 45 
 
 (') Cf. "Indeed, so far from its being true that the artist is the best 
 judge of art, a really great artist can never judge of other people's 
 work at all, and can hardly in fact, judge of his own. ... It is 
 exactly because a man cannot do a thing that he is the proper judge 
 of it." The Critic as Artist. Part II. (N. B. In this passage the 
 term " artist " is used to denote the painter or poet — the creator.) 
 
 (10) Cf. " Art does not address herself to the specialist. Her claim 
 is that she is universal, and that in all her manifestations she is one. " 
 — The Critic as Artist. Part II. (Intentions, l8gi.) "I believe, 
 myself, in the correlation of the arts — that painting, poetry, and 
 sculpture are only different forms of the same truth." — An Inter- 
 view with Oscar Wilde. New - York Daily Tribune, Jan. 8, 1882. 
 
 (11) Whistler's marginal note to the extract from this lecture in 
 The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, reads: '^Reflection. — It is not 
 enough that our simple Sunflower thrive on his 'thistle' — he has 
 now grafted Edgar Poe on the 'rose' tree of the early American 
 Market in ' a certain milieu ' of dry goods and sympathy ; and ' a 
 
NOTES 199 
 
 certain entourage ' of worship and wooden nutmegs. Born of a 
 Nation, not absolutely 'devoid of any sense of beauty '—Their 
 idol— cherished— listened to— and understood! Foolish Beaude- 
 laire! — Mistaken Mallarm6!" 
 
 (12) As a result of this criticism from Wilde, occurred the following 
 interesting exchange of letters : 
 
 I. Tendemessin Tite Street. (Signed with the " Butterfly device. ") 
 — The World, February 25, 1885. (Whistler's Gentle AH of Mak- 
 ing Enemies, page 162.) 
 
 To the Poet : 
 
 Oscar, — I have read your exquisite article in the Pall Mall. Noth- 
 ing is more delicate, in the flattery of "the Poet " to " the Painter,'' 
 than the naivete of "the Poet " in the choice of his Painters — Ben- 
 jamin West and Paul Delaroche! 
 
 You have pointed out that "the Painter's" mission is to find 
 " le beau dans V horrible," andhave left to "the Poet " the discovery 
 of " V horrible " dans " le beau " ! 
 Chelsea. 
 
 II. To the Painter. — The World, Feb. 25, 1885. (Whistler's 
 Gentle Art of Making Enemies, page 163.) 
 
 To the Painter : 
 
 Dear Butterfly,— By the aid of a biographical dictionary, I made 
 the discovery that there were once two painters, called Benjamin 
 West and Paul Delaroche, who rashly lectured upon Art. As of 
 their works nothing at all remains, I conclude that they explained 
 themselves away. 
 
 Be warned in time, James ; and remain, as I do, incomprehen- 
 sible. To be great is to be misunderstood.*— Tout d, vous, 
 
 Oscar Wilde. 
 
 ♦From Essay II, Self-Reliance, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
 (N. B. Whistler's customary reflection reads : "I do know a 
 bird, who, like Oscar, with his head in the sand, still believes in the 
 undiscovered. If to be misunderstood is to be great, it was rash in 
 Oscar to reveal the source of his inspirations : the 'Biographical 
 Dictionary! ' ") 
 
NOTES FOR "THE RELATION OF DRESS TO ART " 
 
 Page 49 
 (1) This essay appeared first in The Pall Mall Gazette, Saturday, 
 February 28, 1885, and was later included in the weekly issue of 
 The Pall Mall Budget, Friday, March 6, 1885, Vol. 33. 
 
 Page 50 
 
 (3) Cf. "Subordination in art does not mean disregard of truth; 
 it means conversion of fact into effect."— 7%? Truth of Masks. 
 "The quarrel between the school of facts and the school of effects 
 touches them not."— London Models. See page 91. " English public 
 opinion tries to constrain . . . the man who makes things that are 
 beautiful in effect, and compels the journalist to retail things that 
 are ugly ... in isiCt." — The Soul 0/ Man Under Socialism. See 
 the first keynote, page 146. (N. B. A great number of ex- 
 amples might be given to illustrate Wilde's habitual use of cer- 
 tain pairs of words, as in the above instance. See Phrases in Index. ) 
 
 (3) Cf. ' ' Nobody of an y real culture ever talks nowadays about the 
 
 beauty of a sunset. Sunsets are quite old-fashioned. They belong 
 
 to the time when Turner was the last note in ait..''— The Decay of 
 
 Lying. 
 
 Page 51 
 
 (*) This probably refers to "Japanese Girls on the Terrace " ; but 
 Wilde could have found a number of equally good examples such as 
 " La Princesse du Pays de la Porcelaine, " "The Golden Screen," 
 "Die Lange Leizen— of the Six Marks," or "Irving as Philip II 
 of Spain," which was first exhibited eight years before this article. 
 
 (5) Cf. "Mr. Whistler made many beautiful studies of nude fig- 
 ures, mostly with transparent draperies of brilliant colour, quite 
 classical in character."— Chapter on Pastels, etc.. The Art of James 
 McNeill Whistler, by T. R. Way and G. R. Dennis. 
 
202 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 (6) Cf. " It is the secret of much of the artificiality of modem art, 
 this constant posing of pretty people, and when art becomes artifi- 
 cial, it becomes monotonous." — London Models. See page 99. 
 
 Page 52 
 O Cf. " 'AH right, sir,' said the professor of posing."— Zfl»(/ci« 
 Models. See page 91. 
 
 (8) Cf. London Models, page 100. 
 
 (9) This was one of Wilde's most cherished theories. In the 
 letter entitled More Radical Ideas Upon Dress Reform, 1884, he 
 writes : "The over-tunic should be made full and moderately loose; 
 it may, if desired, be shaped more or less to the figure, but in no 
 case should it be confined to the waist by any straight band or belt ; 
 on the contrary, it should fall from the shoulder to the knee or below 
 it, in fine curves and vertical lines, giving more freedom and conse- 
 quently more grace." Cf. The Freeman's Journal (Dublin), 
 Jan. 6, 1885. 
 
 (W) Wilde's position is even more strongly defined in a Letter on 
 Woman's Dress, 1884, in which he defends himself against a. cor- 
 respondent in The Pall Mall Gazette, who signs herself "Girl Grad- 
 uate " •- " All the most ungainly and uncomfortable articles of dress 
 that fashion has ever in her folly prescribed, not the tight corset 
 merely, but the farthingale, the vertugadin, the hoop, the crinoline, 
 and that monstrosity, the so-called 'dress-improver' also— all of 
 them have owed their origin to the same error, the error of not see- 
 ing that it is from the shoulders only that garments should be hung. " 
 
 Page 53 
 
 (11) Whistler's point of view, on the other hand, was : " We are 
 told that the Greeks were, as a people, worshippers of the beauti- 
 ful, and that in the fifteenth century Art was engrained in the mul- 
 titude . . . Listen! there was never an artistic period. There 
 never was an Art-loving nation." — Whistler's "Ten O' Clock." 
 
 (12) Whistler's point of view was : "Why, after centuries of free- 
 dom from Art, and indifference to it, should it now be thrust upon 
 them (the people) by the blind— until wearied and puzzled, they 
 know no longer how they shall eat or drink — how they shall sit or 
 stand— or wherewithal they shall clothe themselves— without af- 
 
NOTES 203 
 
 flicting \r\.."—Whisilei's "Ten 0' Clock." Cf. Introduction, 
 page xxiii ; Decorative Art in America, page 13 ; and note to same, 
 page 184. 
 
 Page 54 
 (IS) Cf. " My business as an artist was with Ariel. I set myself 
 to wrestle with Cailban."— Z'^ Profundis. {N. B. This is another 
 instance of Wilde's repeated use of certain pairs of words.) 
 
NOTES FOR "THE TOMB OF KEATS" 
 
 Page 56 
 (1) This sonnet was first published in The Dramatic Review, 
 January 23, 1886, page 249. It was included by Mr. Alfred H. 
 Miles in The Poets and the Poetry of the Century, Vol. VIII 
 (1891-4), page 519, and will in all probability be contained in the 
 revised edition of this series, bearing the imprint of George Rout- 
 ledge & Sons and E. P. Button & Co., of which several volumes 
 have already been issued. Mr. Thomas B. Mosher of Maine has 
 printed it in a collected edition, The Poems of Oscar Wilde, 1905 ; 
 and quite recently (1906) it has reappeared in what practically con- 
 stitutes a transcription of the Mosher edition, published by F. M. 
 Buckles & Co., New York, in two volumes. 
 
 WUde, himself, never added any one of his later poems to his 
 origiaal book oi Poems (1881) ; and no edition revised by Wilde was 
 issued after 1882. The limited Edition de Luxe, which was sold 
 with the imprint of Elkin Mathews & John Lane in 1892, was no 
 more than the remnant of David Bogue's last 1882 edition, with a 
 special title-page by Charles Ricketts and a new cover, designed by 
 him. 
 
 (2) These were the love letters which Keats wrote to his fiancee, 
 Fanny Brawne, from July I, 1819, to sometime early in August, 1820. 
 Thirty-seven of them were published as Letters of John Keats to 
 Fanny Brawne, with Notes by Harry Buxton Formau. London, 
 1878. Mr. Forman included them with two letters acquired later 
 (Letters III and XXXVI), in his four volume edition of The Poeti- 
 cal Works and Other Writings of John Keats, 1883, Vol. IV, page 125- 
 189; and more recently in The Letters of John Keats, 1895. Mr. For- 
 man seems to think it necessary to justify his publication of these 
 letters, for in his Preface to the last mentioned edition, page xvi, he 
 writes : " I stiU think Keats' letters without those to Fanny Brawne 
 very much like Hamlet without the Prince of Denmark. When I 
 
 Z05 
 
206 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 made up my mind, after weighing the whole matter carefully, to 
 publish those letters in 1878, I was fully alive to the risk of vitu- 
 peration, and not particularly solicitous on that branch of the sub- 
 ject. [!]... The press turned out to be about equally divided 
 on it. . . . Above all, the letters are irrevocably with us." Per- 
 haps Mr. Forman made the above statement to fortify himself in the 
 face of the implied criticism, contained in Sidney Colvin's Preface to 
 Keats in the " English Men of Letters " Series, 1887 : "A biographer 
 cannot ignore these letters now that they are published ; but their 
 publication must be regretted by all who hold that human respect 
 and delicacy are due to the dead no less than to the living, and to 
 genius no less than obscurity."— Remark on Letters of J. K. to 
 F. B. in Preface, page vi. 
 
 Mr. Colvin omitted the letters from his own edition of the Letters 
 of John Keats, published in 1891. Fanny Brawne died in 1865 as 
 Mrs. Lindon. 
 
 (*) The letters were sold under the hammer at the rooms of 
 Messrs. Sotheby on Monday, March 2, 1885. The following is a 
 sample of England's commentary on the sale : " The love letters 
 of Keats are naturally somewhat monotonous in their sweet song 
 of gushing affection to the young lady. . . . The sale was but 
 thinly attended, but the prices obtained for the collection of Keats' 
 letters were high throughout, not one selling for less than £^% 15s., 
 the average being above £\t„ several bringing £20, and the last 
 two of the collection ^'34 and ;f 39. In this last of three closely 
 written 8vo. pages, he says : ' The last two years taste like brass 
 upon my palate. . . . Hamlet's heart was full of such misery 
 as mine is, when he said to Ophelia, " Go to a nunnery, go, go ! " ' 
 [Letter XXXIX, the last, which Forman dates Kentish Town, 
 August, 1820, beginning page 501 of the 1895 edition of The 
 Letters.'\ The total realized on these love letters of Keats amounted 
 to £t,^"— London Times, March 4, 1885. See also New York 
 Times, Sunday, March 22, 1885, page 4, cl. 4. 
 
 (*) " And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting 
 lots." — St. Matthew, xxvii, 35. " Then the soldiers, when they 
 had crucified Jesus, took his garments, and made four parts, to 
 every soldier a part ; and also his coat : now the coat was withou 
 seam, woven from the top throughout. They said therefore among 
 
NOTES 207 
 
 themselves, Let ns not rend it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall 
 be." — St. John, xix, 23-4. 
 
 Wildes selection of the word dice in the place of lots illustrates 
 the poet's fine word sense. Cf. Note 9. 
 
 Page 57 
 
 (5) This essay was printed in The Irish Monthly; A Magazine of 
 General Literature, Dublin, Fifth Yearly Volume, July, 1877, page 
 476. It was written, it would seem, early in the spring of 1877, as 
 we know Wilde to have been in Italy in March of that year (see 
 London Models, Note 2, page 241). Wilde sent a number of poems 
 to The Irish Monthly, this being, however, his only contribution in 
 prose. In fact, with the exception of The Grosvenor Gallery, a 
 critique which appeared in The Dublin University Magazine for 
 the same month, no other prose of his appeared in book or periodi- 
 cal until V Envoi to Rose Leaf and AppleLeaf (see Note 30, page 1 79) . 
 The Lecture on the English Renaissance, it should be remembered, 
 was an unauthorized version (see Note 2, page 181 fol.). One bit of 
 art criticism appeared in Saunders' Irish Daily News, May 5, 1879. 
 
 Remark. This essay has been taken out of the chronological order 
 adhered to for the balance of the essays, letters, etc., comprising 
 this volume, for the purpose of placing in juxtaposition Wilde's two 
 references to Keats, and more especially to contrast his style and 
 point of view at two different periods of his career : that of the 
 lyric poet, which covered his earlier years up to 1881, and that of 
 the art critic from 1885 to 1891. The years 1881-1885 formed a 
 transition period, devoted largely to proposed reform in dress and 
 handicraft, and an active campaign for the establishment of indus- 
 trial art schools and the cultivation of taste in house-furnishing, co- 
 incident with the Morris movement. 
 
 ("6) Via Ostiensis is the old Roman road to Ostia, which at the 
 time of the Republic and early Empire was a flourishing city and 
 the harbour of Rome. Porta San Paolo, the ancient Porta Ostiensis, 
 was one of the fifteen Gates in the Aurelian Walls, and is im- 
 mediately east of the Pyramid of Cestius. 
 
 (7) The Pyramid of Cestius, originally on the Via Ostiensis, but 
 enclosed by Aurelian within the city walls, is the tomb of Caius 
 
208 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Cestius Epulo, who is known to have died before B.C. 13. The 
 pyramid is Il6 feet high and composed of concrete, overlaid with 
 slabs of marble. 
 
 (8) Modern Rome has nine obelisks of varying size at the follow- 
 ing locations : (i) Piazza del Popolo ; (2) The Fincio ; (3) Piazza 
 della Triniti; (4) Piazza del Quirinale; (5) Piazza dell' Esquilino; 
 (6) Piazza Colonna — 84 ft. high ; (7) Piazza della Minerva — very 
 small; (8) Piazza di San Giovanni in Laterano — 105 ft. high; (9) 
 Piazza di San Pietro. 
 
 (9) "And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of a 
 cloud, to lead them the way ; and by night in a pillar of fire, to 
 give them light." — Exodus, xii, 21. Wilde frequently reverts to 
 this metaphor, as in English Poetesses, page 74: " Sappho, who, to 
 the antique world, was a pillar of flame." Quite characteristic is 
 his substitution of flame for fire, as being more euphonious and 
 hence, according to his theory, not only justifiable but correct. Cf. 
 Note 4. 
 
 Page 58 
 
 (W) This is the old burying-ground, no longer in use. From the 
 outer edge of the moat may be seen the grave of Keats. In what is 
 now the New Protestant cemetery, was placed the heart [!] of 
 Shelley (see Note 22, page 212 fol.) ; and John Addington S}rmonds 
 was buried there in 1893. The old cemetery is sadly in need of re- 
 pairs ; walls have been torn down, and its general condition is deplor- 
 able (see Note 16, page 210). Next to the grave of Keats is that of 
 his ever faithful friend Joseph Severn, in whose arms he expired. It 
 was through Severn that the present tombstone with the lyre was 
 placed over Keats, and in 1882 Severn's own body was reinterred 
 in the present plot of ground, over which was set a mate to the 
 stone over the poet's grave. Some idea of the general appearance 
 of the cemetery and graves may be obtained by referring to the 
 illustrations in The Graves of Keats and Severn. The Century 
 Magazine, No. 4, February, 1884, Vol. XXVIIj page 603, and Keats 
 in Hampstead, ibid., No.^6, October, 1895, Vol. L, page 898. See 
 also "The Burial-place of Keats," etched by Arthur Evershed from 
 a drawing by Samuel Palmer, a rather crude etching which appears 
 
NOTES 
 
 209 
 
 at page 106, Vol. I, of H. Buxton Forman's edition of The Poetical 
 Works and Other Writings of John Keats, 1883. 
 
 (H) " February 14, [1821] : Among the many things he has re- 
 quested of me to-night, this is the principal, that on his grave shall 
 be this : 
 
 ' Here lies one whose name was writ in water.' " 
 — Toseph Severn's Account of the Last Days of Keats. 
 See H. Buxton Forman's 1883 edition of Keats' Works, Vol. IV, 
 page 212. 
 (12) Cf. 
 
 *' Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues 
 We write in water." 
 
 —King Henry VIII, Act IV, Scene 2. 
 
 ** All your better deeds 
 Shall be in water writ, but this in marble." 
 
 — Philaster, Act V, Scene 3. 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 On these lines Shelley began the following lovely sonnet : 
 
 Fragment On Keats, 
 Who Desired That On His Tomb Should Be Inscribed :— 
 ** ' Here lieth One whose name was writ on water.' 
 But ere the breath that could erase it blew, 
 Death, in remorse for that fell slaughter. 
 Death, the immortalizing winter, flew 
 Athwart the stream, — and time's printless torrent grew 
 A scroll of crystal, blazoning the name 
 Of Adonais." — 
 
 In The Century Magazine, February, 1906, page 611, are some 
 more exquisite verses on this theme. The Name Writ in Water 
 {Piazza di Spagna, Rome), by Robert Underwood Johnson. It is 
 the "Spirit of the Fountain" which speaks, and the Spirit's last 
 
 words are : 
 
 " Little he knew 'twixt his dreaming and sleeping. 
 The whUe his sick fancy despaired of his fame. 
 What glory I held in my loverly keeping : 
 Listen ! my waters still whisper his name." 
 
 (13) " Keats was buried in the Protestant cemetery at Rome, one 
 of the most beautiful spots, etc. (as quoted by Wilde). In one of 
 those mental voyages into the past, which often precede death, Keats 
 
2IO DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 told Severn that ' he thought the intensest pleasure, etc' (as quoted 
 by Wilde) : . . . and another time, after lying a while, still and 
 peaceful, he said, ' I feel the flowers growing over me.' And there 
 they do grow, even all the winter long— violets and daisies mingling 
 with the fresh herbage, and, in the words of Shelley ' making one in 
 love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a 
 place.' "—Life and Letters of John Keats, by Lord Houghton, 1848. 
 Wilde seems to have borrowed a little too freely, if anything, 
 from Lord Houghton's account. Wilde's paragraph is to all in- 
 tents and purposes a paraphrase of the above extract. See the two 
 follovnng notes. 
 
 Page 59 
 
 (14) The following is what Shelley actually did write in his 
 Preface to Adonais : " It might make one in love with death, to 
 think that one should be buried in so sweet a place." 
 
 (15) In a letter which Keats wrote to his friend, James Rice, on 
 February i5, 1820, he expresses this same love for flowers, which 
 he dwelt on so often during his last days : " How astonishingly 
 does the chance of leaving the world impress a sense of its natural 
 beauties on me! ... I muse with the greatest affection on 
 every flower I have known from my infancy — their shapes and 
 colours are as new to me as if I had just created them with a super- 
 human fancy. It is because they are connected with the most 
 thoughtless and the happiest moments of our lives. " 
 
 (W) It is welcome news to every lover of poetry as well as to 
 every admirer of Keats, that a movement long on foot to establish 
 a Keats-Shelley Memorial in Rome promises to have a successful 
 issue. Though it does not have in view a monument of the type 
 conceived by Wilde, it has an object which is much finer and more 
 praiseworthy, in that it concerns the purchase of the house in 
 which Keats breathed his last, in order that it may become the 
 welcome Mecca of all students of the Poet. Now that the great- 
 hearted of America and England are joining in this Memorial, which 
 has the approval and support of the Kings of England and of 
 Italy, President Roosevelt and Sir Rennell Rodd, there is every 
 reason to believe that not only will the house on Piazza di Spagna 
 be saved to us for all time, but that the lovely cemetery which holds 
 
NOTES 211 
 
 the grave of Adonais, wUl be spared further indignities and restored 
 to a state of beauty worthy of the several great men who have made 
 its name immortal. 
 
 (") In 1875, a committee of Englishmen and Americans, 
 headed by Sir Vincent Eyre, provided for the repair of the tomb- 
 stone, and placed on an adjacent wall a medallion portrait of the 
 poet, presented by its sculptor, Mr. Warrington Wood. The lines 
 of poetry are an acrostic written by the head of the committee. 
 
 (18) The lady in question was Mrs. Procter, to whose descrip- 
 tion Wilde refers in Keats' Sonnet on Blue, page 69. Lord Houghton 
 quotes her in his Life, Letters and Literary Remains of John Keats. 
 See Note 18, page 225. 
 
 Page 60 
 
 (19) The Sphinx seems to have cast a spell over Wilde, perhaps 
 a baleful one; for there is the ring of truth in his cry in The 
 Sphinx, his one curiously repulsive poem : 
 
 "Get hence, you loathsome mystery! Hideous animal, get hence! 
 You wake in me each bestial sense, you make me what I would not be." 
 
 At any rate, he continually used the word in simile and in descrip- 
 tion, both to lend colour to his language and suggestiveness to his 
 subject. We have his long poem, just alluded to, written in Paris 
 as early as 1883, and finally published in 1894, with strange 
 Egyptic illustrations from the hand of Ricketts. Here, in the sixth 
 verse, we have apparently the key of his theme : 
 
 " Come forth you exquisite grotesque ! half woman and kalf animal ! " 
 
 In The Happy Prince (1888), page 18, the word is used for its 
 suggestion of Eastern mystery: " He told him of the Sphinx, who 
 is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows 
 everything." 
 
 In The Grave of Shelley (1877 and 1881), in connection with the 
 pyramid (of Cestius), the allusion has the same object : 
 
 "Surely some Old- World Sphinx lurks darkly hid 
 Grim warder of this pleasaunce of the dead." 
 
 In A Woman of No Importance (1894), as a figure of speech: 
 " Women as a sex are Sphinxes without secrets." 
 
212 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Practically the same epigram had seen service in his story, Lady 
 Alroy. The World (London), May 25th, 1887, and so great was 
 its fascination for him, that he elevated it to the dignity of title for 
 the same story, since it was included as The Sphinx Without a 
 Secret, in Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories (1891). 
 The titles of the other three tales were not altered. 
 
 Again in The Decay of Lying (1889), the word appears as: 
 '■ The solid, stolid British intellect lies in the desert sands like 
 the Sphinx in Flaubert's marvelous tale. '' 
 
 In 1896, from Reading Gaol in a letter to Robert Ross : " The 
 ' gilded sphinx' is, I suppose, as wonderful as ever.'' 
 
 And three years later, in 1899, he inscribed the following senti- 
 ment in a presentation copy of The Importance of Being Earnest: 
 "To the wonderful Sphinx: to whose presence on the first night 
 the success of this comedy was entirely due," etc. 
 
 Furthermore, improbable as it may seem, Wilde appears not 
 only to allude to the Sphinx when he mentions Egypt, but to men- 
 tion Egypt only that he may allude to the Sphinx. 
 
 (30) Monte Testaccio is an isolated mound some one hundred 
 and fifteen feet high and about a thousand paces in circumference, 
 which rises above the Tiber. It was formed of broken pottery, 
 large earthen jars (testae), brought principally from Spain and 
 Africa. 
 
 (21) This simile seems to have lingered in his mind, as it occurs 
 again in a sonnet written at about the same period : 
 
 '* Like burnt-out torches by a sick man's bed 
 Gaunt cypress-trees stand around the sun-bleached stone.*' 
 
 — The Grave of Shelley. 
 
 And a number of years later it recurs in the following: "The 
 cypress-trees were like burnt-out torches." — The Fisherman and 
 His Soul. 1 89 1. 
 
 Certain similar catch-phrases, couplets, etc., were thus employed 
 by Wilde a number of times, in the same manner that Shelley 
 made use at least three times of the "phenomenon" which he 
 notes at the end of the third stanza of his Ode to the West Wind. 
 See also Notes 24 and 29, pages 214 and 217 ; and Phrases in Index. 
 
 (22) Shelley was drowned in the Gulf of Spezia, in July, 1822. 
 
NOTES 213 
 
 Several days after the recovery of his body, it was cremated in the 
 presence of Byron, Leigh Hunt and Trelawny. " What surprised 
 us all was that the heart remained entire. In snatching this relic 
 away from the fiery furnace, my hand was severely burnt." — 
 Trelawny's Recollections oj Sheelly. 
 
 " Shelley's heart was given to Hunt, who subsequently, not 
 without reluctance and unseemly dispute, resigned it to Mrs. Shel- 
 ley. It is now at Boscombe. His ashes were carried by Trelawny 
 to Rome and buried in the Protestant ceraetery." —Shelley by 
 John Addington Symonds in "English Men of Letters,'' page 181. 
 
 Trelawny's inscription on the tombstone reads as follows : 
 
 " Percy Bysshe Shelley 
 Cor cordium 
 Natus, etc. ..." 
 
 An illustration of Shelley's grave may be found in the etching by 
 W. B. Scott, which appears as frontispiece to Vol. II of Poetical 
 Works 0/ Percy Bysshe Shelley, etc., edited by H. Buxton Forman, 
 1886. The apparently general belief that it is Shelley's actual heart 
 which is buried in Rome, and the statement made by J. A. Symonds 
 and other authorities that the heart is in England and the ashes in 
 Rome, are difficult to reconcile. 
 
 It is unfortunate that the great cannot write their own death 
 notices. Their friends always disagree. For instance, the sev- 
 eral accounts, which have been written of the last hours, the funeral, 
 etc., of Oscar Wilde, differ in almost every important detail. 
 
 (23) The " St. Sebastian" of Guido Reni is in Room VI of Palazzo 
 Brignole Sale, also called Palazzo Rosso, No. 18, Strada Nuova. 
 
 It should be recalled that St. Sebastian was one of Wilde's 
 favorite characters, and that he, himself, borrowed the name of 
 Sebastian as the first part of the nam de plume which he adopted 
 after his release from Reading Gaol. He not only appears to have 
 delighted in the sound of the name, and the martyrdom which it 
 connotes, but shows by the following lines that he found in the con- 
 vict's dress certain features suggestive of this saint : 
 
 " Like ape or clown, in monstrous garb 
 With crooked arrows starred." 
 
 — The Ballad of Reading Gaol, Canto IV, Verse 7. 
 
214 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 From the arrow-starred victim of Individualism rampant to the 
 martyred saint was but a short step for the lover of curious paradox. 
 
 The Rev. Charles Robert Maturin (1782 -1824), that eccentric 
 novelist, dramatist and display-loving poseur whom Wilde calls his 
 grand-uncle, and whom he resembled in more ways than one, wrote 
 in 1820 his masterpiece, Melmoth the Wanderer. This book 
 greatly interested Wilde— in fact it has been suggested that the 
 anonymous introduction to the edition of 1892 might be traced to 
 his pen. The book was certainly recalled to him during his im- 
 prisonment, as in a letter to Ross at that period he mentions his 
 interest ' in seeing how his grand-uncle's Melmoth and his mother's 
 Stdonia had been two of the books that fascinated Rossetti's 
 youth ! ' 
 
 Sebastian Melmoth: the martyr and the wanderer! Here perhaps 
 is found Wilde's honest opinion of himself! 
 
 Remark. M. Henry-D. Davray, the translator into French of 
 De Profundis, has recently stated as a fact the conclusions that are 
 deduced from the theory given above. Whether M. Davray received 
 his information direct from Wilde or from some friend of Wilde, or 
 has been led to this belief through a similar process of deduction, 
 remains for him to state. 
 
 (2*) This group of words or the idea which it conveys, was 
 used again in several di£ferent combinations. It is found in his 
 sonnet, Wasted Days (From a Picture Painted by Miss V. T.). 
 Kottabos, Vol. Ill, Michaelmas Term, 1877, beginning : 
 
 " A fair slim boy not made for this world's pain. 
 With hair of gold thick clustering round his ears/' 
 
 and in a later version of the same, greatly altered as Madonna Mia f 
 (in all editions of Poems) : 
 
 " A Lily-Girl, not made for this world's pain. 
 With brown, soft hair close braided by her ears,*' 
 
 and again in London Models, 1889 : " He is often quite charming 
 with his large melancholy eyes, his crisp hair, and his slim brown 
 figure." (See page 95.) 
 
 (^) A recent number of The Century Magazine (No. 4, Febru- 
 ary, 1906, Vol. LXXI, page 535), contains a very interesting illus- 
 trated article by the late William Sharp, entitled The Portraits of 
 
NOTES 2 I 5 
 
 Keats, With Special Reference to Those by Severn. In this article 
 are included the original miniature by Joseph Severn, the George 
 Keats replica, the Haydon sketch and life-mask, the Hilton oil 
 painting, the Girometti medallion, several of the better known 
 sketches and paintings by Severn, together with interesting allusions 
 to the many replicas genuine and unauthentic. Refer also to Keats 
 in Hampstead. The Century, No. 6, October, 1895, Vol. L, page 
 898, which illustrates a bust of Keats by Anne Whitney, placed in 
 the Parish Church of St. John's, Hampstead, in 1894. See Note on 
 the Portraits of Keats, Vol. I, page xxxiii, of H. Buxton Forman's 
 1883 edition of Keats' works. In this note and throughout the 
 four volumes, are given illustrations of the more famous portraits. 
 A chalk drawing by William Hilton, R.A., not included in The 
 Century, is of interest. A beautiful reproduction of a portrait by 
 Severn, done from all appearances in chalk, serves as frontispiece 
 to Odes, Sonnets &• Lyrics of John Keats, published in a very 
 limited edition by the Daniel Press, Oxford. The publisher re- 
 marks that the drawing is in the possession of Mrs. Furneaux, and 
 ' ' has never until now been copied. " This portrait does not seem to be 
 generally known and deserves attention as a very lovely picture, 
 even if it may not be the " trustworthy likeness " which Mr. 
 Daniel claims. It is certainly as close a resemblance as the pain- 
 ful caricature which disfigures the Cambridge Edition of the poet's 
 works. See Note 21, page 226, for a special reference to Joseph 
 Severn. 
 
 (26) The Haydon pen and ink sketch is the one which B. R. 
 Haydon made in his MS. Journal for November, 1816, shortly 
 
 ;^ after his meeting with Keats. This is generally conceded to be the 
 first portrait of Keats which has bden- left to us. " This fine 
 profile head was a sketch for the portrait of Keats introduced by 
 Haydon into his large picture of 'Christ's Entry into Jerusalem,' 
 now in St. Peter's Cathedral at Cm<ina^\S.."— The Portraits of Keats, 
 by William Sharp. See preceding Note, 25. 
 
 (27) This is a bust by the American, Fuller, forming part of a 
 monument erected in memory of the Rajah of Koolapoor (Kola- 
 poor, Kohlapore), who died in Florence in 1870. The monument 
 is in the Cascine, the park of Florence, some two miles from its 
 entrance. 
 
•216 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Page 6i 
 
 (88) After considerable revision in the sestet, this sonnet was re- 
 published as T/m Grave of Keats in The Burlington, No. l, Janu- 
 ary, 1881, page 35. It was included in Poems, 1881 (July) and all 
 later editions ; and was reprinted in The Best of Oscar Wilde, col- 
 lected by Oscar Herrmann (New York) ; Every Day in the Year, 
 edited by Jas. L. and Mary K. Ford (New York) ; Golden Gleams 
 of Thought, edited by Rev. S. P. Linn (Chicago) ; with an extract 
 in The Poets' Praise, collected by Estelle D. Adams (London). 
 
 Wilde was the most painstaking of poets despite his affected care- 
 lessness and indifference. His scholarship is clearly proven by the 
 neatly annotated copies of Herodotus, Sallust, Cicero, etc., used by 
 him at Oxford. Hardly one of his poems which appeared in The Irish 
 Monthly, Kottabos, The World, Time, etc., was republished in the 
 collected edition, without some change. The fifth edition of Poems 
 shows differences of text, which seem hardly important enough to 
 have warranted alteration, in some twenty separate instances. This 
 habit of careful revision never left him ; for all the plays were re- 
 vised for publication ; the second edition of The Ballad of Reading 
 Gaol shows by collation some ten new readings ; and later editions 
 show three further variants of the second. As an illustration of 
 this point, may be told an anecdote recounted by Mr. Sherard in 
 Oscar Wilde. The Story of an Unhappy Friendship : During 
 Wilde's trip in America, he had occasion to tell his "host one 
 evening that he had spent the day in hard literary work, and when 
 asked what he had done, he had said : ' I was working on the 
 proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma.' 
 'And in the afternoon ?' 'In the afternoon— well, I put it back 
 again.' " 
 
 To show the development of this sonnet to its final form it is now 
 given in full as 
 
 THE GRAVE OF KEATS. 
 
 Rid of the world's injustice, and his pain. 
 He rests at last beneath God's veil of blue : 
 Taken from life luhen life and love were new 
 The youngest of the martyrs here is lain, 
 Fair as Sebastian, and as early slain. 
 
NOTES 2 I 7 
 
 No cypress shades his grave, no funeral yew. 
 
 But gentle violets weeping with the dew 
 
 Weave &n his bones an ever-blossoming chain. 
 
 O proudest heart that broke for misery ! 
 
 O sweetest lips since those o/Mitylene / 
 
 O poet-painter of our English Land ! 
 
 Thy name was writ in water— zV shall stand : 
 
 And tears like mine will keep thy memory green. 
 
 As Isabella did her Basil-tree. 
 
 The changes in the text are indicated in italics. 
 
 (29) The larger part of this line and the whole of the third line 
 were used afterwards m. Ravenna, III, 11. 7-8: 
 
 " Taken from life while life and love were new. 
 He lies beneath God's seamless veil of blue." 
 
 Ravenna was the Newdigate Prize Poem in heroic couplets, 
 which Wilde recited in the Theatre at Oxford, June 26, 1878. It 
 was published subsequently by Thomas Shrimpton and Son, Broad 
 Street, Oxford, 1878. See Notes for "London Models," Note 2, 
 page 241. 
 
 (3") The allusion is obviously to Keats' Isabella; or. The Pot oj 
 Basil. A Story front Boccaccio. Stanza LII, 11. 7~8: 
 
 " and o'er it set 
 Sweet Basil, which her tears kept ever wet. " 
 
 This incident in the words of John Payne's translation from 
 Boccaccio's Story of Isabella (II Decamerone, Giornata IV, No. 
 vella 5) runs as follows : " She had not dug long before she came 
 upon her unhappy lover's body . . . ; she would fain, an she but 
 might, have borne away the whole body, to give it fitter burial ; but 
 seeing that this might not be, she with a knife cut off the head, as 
 best she could. . . . Then, taking a great and goodly pot, of those 
 wherein they plant marjoram or sweet basil, she laid therein the 
 head, folded in a fair linen cloth, and covered it up with earth, in 
 which she planted sundry heads of right fair basil of Salerno ; nor 
 did she ever water these with other water than that of her 
 tears. ... She would bend over it and fall to weeping so sore 
 and so long, that her tears bathed the basil, which, by dint of 
 such long and assiduous tending, . . . grew passing fair and sweet 
 of savour." 
 
NOTES FOR « KEATS' SONNET ON BLUE " 
 
 Page 6s 
 
 (1) This article was contributed to The Century Guild Hobby 
 Horse, No. 3, July, 1886, Volume I, page (81) 83. This quarterly 
 was a magazine de luxe (_I2J4" x 9K"). which was published at the 
 Chiswick Press from January, i886, through October, 1892 — 
 twenty-eight beautiful numbers in all. In April, 1884, a single 
 number (11" x 9"), with the same title and woodcut for the cover, 
 was published under the imprint of G. Allen. This first issue, how- 
 ever, was quickly withdrawn by the publisher, so that few copies 
 of it are in circulation. 
 
 (8) Wilde's Western tour brought him to Louisville some time 
 in February, 1882, probably at a date between the 15th and the 
 23rd. 
 
 (3) Mrs. Philip Speed (Emma Keats) died in the month of Sep- 
 lember, 1883. " It may be added that the mask [Haydon's life- 
 mask] of Keats bears a striking resemblance to one of Keats' rela- 
 tives now living in America, and that it especially recalls the fea- 
 tures of his niece, Mrs. Emma Keats Speed, of Louisville, Ken- 
 tucky." — Statement by the Editor. TAe Century, No. 4, February, 
 Volume XXVII, 1884, page 603. 
 
 (*) George Keats (1797- 1842), the brother of the poet, im- 
 migrated to America in the spring of 1818, shortly after his 
 marriage to Georgiana Augusta Wylie. He went ostensibly to 
 better his fortunes, with the hope of assisting his brother financially. 
 He has had many detractors, however, who censured him for his 
 money dealings with the poet. Charles Brown was especially bit- 
 ter in his denunciations of him and was prevented by him from 
 carrying out his proposed biography of Keats. George visited 
 his brother in England during the winter of 1819-20. 
 
 After having tried his hand at several trades, he went into the 
 lumber business and died a wealthy man and one of the best known 
 citizens of Louisville. "George Keats not only loved his brother 
 
 2x9 
 
220 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 John but reverenced his genius and enjoyed his poetry, believing 
 him to belong to the front rank of English haids."— Memoir of 
 George Keats, by J. F. C. (The Rev. James Freeman Clark), The 
 Dial, April, 1843. 
 
 (5) Mr. John Gilmer Speed, son of the lady whom Wilde met, 
 edited The Letters and Poems of John Keats, in 3 vols.. New York, 
 1883. 
 
 (*) Wilde seems to have made some error here, unless it be 
 possible that snch an annotated edition of Dante has escaped the 
 notice of the many editors of Keats' work. Wilde probably had in 
 mind the copy of Milton in which Keats wrote his comments on 
 Paradise Lost. Part of these appeared in The Dial, April, 1843. 
 See also The Athenaum, October 26, 1872, and Notes on Milton^s 
 " Paradise Lost," page 256, Vol. Ill of H. Buxton Forman's Glasgow 
 edition of Keats' works, 1901. Keats was, however, an ardent 
 admirer of Dante, to whom he was introduced in Gary's translation. 
 In a copy of this he wrote his sonnet On a Dream. 
 
 Page 66 
 
 (') A facsimile of the manuscript preceded Wilde's essay, page 81. 
 It does not appear to be a very good reproduction, though it is con- 
 ceivable that the ink of the original had faded (Wilde speaks of 
 "faded scraps of paper," etc.), making it difficult of reproduction. 
 Mr. H. Buxton Forman, the authority on Keats, refers to it in the 
 following terms in Poetry and Prose by John Keats. A Book of 
 Fresh Verses and New Readings, etc., London, 1890, page 25 : 
 
 " A manuscript of the Sonnet on blue, written in answer to one of 
 Reynolds' on dark eyes, found its way to America ; and a so-called 
 facsimile of it, now shorn of its first line, appeared in The Century 
 Guild Hobby Horse for July, 1886. Line 6 and those following 
 seem to have exercised the poet a good deal. Mr. Horwood's 
 variation is not shown by this copy ; but, as far as The Hobby 
 Horse reproduction is legible, the intentions seem to have been as 
 follows : " 
 
 Since Mr. Forman's transcription does not appear to embrace all 
 the variants which occur in this version, and a single capital be- 
 
NOTES 221 
 
 comes of interest, when collation extends to such minutijE, a more 
 detailed transcript of the thirteen Unes in the facsimile is given 
 below : 
 
 Ll- 1 [Torn from MS.] . ... 
 
 z. Of Cynthia, the Wide Palace of the sun 
 
 3. The tent of Hesperus and all his train 
 
 4. The Bosomer of Clouds gold, grey and dun 
 S- Blue 'tis the Life of Waters — Ocean 
 
 { 
 
 Waterfalls i 
 
 Dis Pools numberless > 
 
 6. And all vassal Streams ; Lakes, Pools and Seas^ 
 
 7. And Waterfalls aTid Fountains never ran 
 ■weird 
 
 8. OrfloTii' d or slep't but still 
 
 7. May rage and foam and fret but never can 
 
 8. Subside but to a dark blue Nativeness 
 
 9. Blue! gentle Cousin to the forest green 
 
 10. Married to green in all the sweetest flowers 
 
 th Forget me not 
 
 11. The Violet the Bluebell and that Queen 
 
 A 
 Secrecy 
 
 12. Qi Hiddenness )ii&Nv^&\.. What strange powers 
 
 But how great ) 
 
 13. Hast thou as a mere Shadow? then how high 5 
 
 When an 
 
 14. Trembling in eye thou art alive with fate - 
 
 A 
 
 Note. The carets occur where shown ; the italicized words are 
 crossed in the MS., but appear in the same relative position. 
 
 (8) Lord Houghton (1809-85), Richard Monckton Milnes, 
 traveller, philanthropist, unrivalled after-dinner speaker, poet and 
 Maecenas of poets. He obtained the laureateship for Tennyson and 
 was among the first to recognize Mr. Swinburne. Among his works 
 are Poems, Legendary and Historical (1844) ; Palm Leaves (1844) ; 
 and most important of all The Life, Letters and Literary Remains 
 of John Keats (1848), 2 vols. 
 
 (9) Charles Armitage Brown (i786-<r.i842), a retired mer- 
 chant, when he met Keats at Hampstead. He accompanied the 
 poet on his "tour to the Hebrides," July-August, 1818, and tookhim 
 into his home after the death of Keats' brother in December, 
 1818. He was the poet's warm friend and adviser, and after his 
 
222 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 death went to Italy, where he became acquainted with Trelawny 
 and Landor. At the villa of the latter, he met Lord Houghton and 
 when finally he decided to give up his idea of a biography of Keats 
 and to emigrate to New Zealand, he placed in Lord Houghton's 
 hands all the material he had collected for this purpose. 
 
 The so-called Houghton MSS. from which was compiled The 
 Life, Letters, etc., consist of Brown's manuscript memoir, trans- 
 cripts made by him of a few of Keats' poems, reminiscences by 
 Charles Cowden Clarke, Henry Stephens, Joseph Severn and other 
 intimates of Keats, as well as letters from the above. 
 
 Page 67 
 (1") This sonnet appears. Vol. II, page 295 of The Life, Letters 
 and Literary Remains of John Keats, by Lord Houghton (1848). 
 
 (11) The sestet of Reynolds' sonnet reads as follows : 
 
 " The golden clusters of enamouring hair 
 Glow *d in poetic pictures sweetly well : — 
 Why should not tresses dusk, that are so fair 
 On the live brow, have an eternal spell 
 In poesy ? — dark eyes are dearer far 
 Than orbs that mock the hyacintbine-bell." 
 
 (12) John Hamilton Reynolds ( 1 796-1852), poet and friend 
 of Keats. Author of Safie, an Eastern Tale (1814) ; The Eden of 
 Imagination (1814) ; The Naiad (1816). In the first and last of 
 these he shows the influence of Byron; in the second that of 
 Leigh Hunt, through whom it is probable that he met Keats. Be- 
 fore the completion of Endymion, Keats projected a series of 
 metrical versions of Boccaccio's tales with Reynolds, his own con- 
 tribution to be Isabella, and Reynolds', The Garden of Florence. 
 The last was eventually published together with The Ladye of 
 Provence in 1821, over the pseudonym "John Hamilton." In 
 the meantime Reynolds had produced in 1819 a farce entitled One, 
 Two, Three, Four, Five, and parodies of Wordsworth, entitled 
 Peter Bell. Keats' letters to Reynolds are noteworthy as being 
 among his most unreserved and interesting. (See also Note 14.) 
 
 (13) "Woodhouse's transcript of the sonnet corresponds verbally 
 with the text of this edition [the residuum of Wilde's facsimile] : 
 
NOTES 223 
 
 he gives the date as the 8th of February, i&iS."—I'aitry and Prose 
 by John Keats. Edited by H. Buxton Forman, 1890, page 26. 
 
 "The Woodhouse MSS. consist of a commonplace book in which 
 Richard Woodhouse, the friend of Keats, transcribed about mid- 
 summer, iSig, the chief part of Keats' poems at that date unpublished. 
 The transcripts are in many cases made from early drafts of the 
 poems." — Preface to Keats by Sidney Colvin, page vii. 
 
 (1*) See A Sonnet by Keats, in The AtheniBum, No. 2536, June 
 3, 1876, page 764. Mr. Horwood's article is sufficiently interesting 
 to warrant a full quotation, and though the verbal changes in 
 the sonnet are all pointed out by WUde, it is given in full, to illus- 
 trate the curious variations in punctuation and capitalization, which 
 characterize the several versions of many of Keats' poems. 
 
 "In 1821, John Hamilton Reynolds, the friend of Keats, pub- 
 lished a volume of poems with the title, ' The Garden of Florence 
 and other Poems, by John Hamilton.' At pages 124 and 126 are 
 two sonnets on Sherwood Forest; and a manuscript note in my copy 
 says, that ' It was in answer to these two sonnets that Keats sent 
 the author the lines on Robin Hood, which are published with his 
 Lamia, etc' At page 128 is a sonnet ending with an expression of 
 preference of dark eyes to blue eyes. Appended to this is a manu- 
 script addition (made evidently not long after the volume was 
 printed), of which the following is a copy: 'Keats, upon reading 
 the above sonnet, immediately expressed his own preference for blue 
 eyes in the following lines : 
 
 '[LL] I. Blue! 'tis the hue of heaven— the domain 
 z. Of Cynthia, — ^"the bright palace of the sun, 
 
 3. The tent of Hesperus and all his train, 
 
 4. The bosomer of clouds, gold, grey, and dun. 
 
 5. Blue ! 't is the life of waters : — Ocean, 
 
 6. With all his tributary streams, pools numberless, 
 
 7. May rage and foam and fret ; but never can 
 
 8. Subside, if not to dark blue nativeness. 
 
 g. Blue '. gentle cousin to the forest green ; 
 
 10. Married to green in all the sweetest flowers, — 
 
 11. Forget-me-not; the Blue-bell ; and that Queen 
 
 12. Of secrecy, the Violet.— What strange powers 
 
 13. Hast thou, as a mere shadow : — ^but how great 
 
 14. When in an eye thou art, alive with fate ! ' 
 
224 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 I do not find this sonnet in any of several editions of Keats' poems 
 which I have, nor is it mentioned in Lord Houghton's Life of Keats. 
 
 A. J. Horwood. " 
 Mr. Horwood no doubt had the revised edition of Lord Hough- 
 ton's Life of Keats published in 1867. 
 
 Page 68 
 
 (15) " These strike me as decidedly genuine variations, but indica- 
 tive of an earlier state of the poem than that adopted in the text." 
 — The Poetical Works, etc., of John Keats. Edited by H. Buxton 
 Forman, 1883. Vol. II, pages 257-8. 
 
 (16) Mr. Forman makes further comment (see Note 7, page 220) 
 on this subject in The Complete Works of John Keats, Glasgow, 
 igoijVol. II, pages 198-g, and offers the following objection: "The 
 scholiast of the Hobby Horse ' fac-simile ' demurred to my ac- 
 ceptance of The Athenceum variant of line 6 as genuine, on the 
 ground that we 'have before us Keats' \_sic\ first draft of the 
 sonnet,' and that, ' having got his line right in his first draft, Keats 
 probably did not spoil it in his second.' This reasoning assumes 
 the Hobby Horse draft to be the first and ignores the probability 
 that, as in other cases, there were scrappy pencillings, any of which 
 might have passed into another version written out at a different 
 time." 
 
 (17) " The punctuation of 7%,; .^MswizaOT version is characteristic 
 of Keats, and I have adopted it in part." — The Poetical Works, etc., 
 1883. Edited by H. Buxton Forman, Vol. II, page 258. On the 
 preceding page is the sonnet, the title reading : 
 
 SONNET. 
 Written in answer to a Sonnet ending thus : — 
 
 Dark eyes are dearer far 
 
 Than those that mock the hyacinthine bell. 
 
 By J. H. Reynolds. 
 
 In collating Mr. Forman's version with those of Lord Houghton 
 (l) and The Athenaum (2), the following variations are disclosed: 
 
NOTES 225 
 
 LI. 1-4 follow the text and punctuation of (i), adding a comma 
 
 after "Hesperus," 1. 3. 
 L. S follows the text and punctuation of (2), but begins "'t is" 
 
 with a capital. 
 " 6 foUows the text of (i) and punctuation of (a). 
 "7 " ' " and punctuation of (i). 
 " 8 << << •• n i< << << /j). 
 
 " 9 reads: "Blue! Gentle cousin of the forest-green. " 
 
 " 10 follows the text and punctuation of (2). 
 
 " II " " •• of (2) and punctuation of (i), but omits 
 hyphen in Blue-bell. 
 
 " 12 foUows the text and punctuation of (i), but begins " vio- 
 let " with a capital. 
 
 " 13 follows the text and punctuation of (i). 
 
 " 14 follows the text of (i) and punctuation of (2). 
 
 The current Cambridge Edition of Keats, edited by Horace E. 
 Skidder and published by Houghton, Mifflin & Co., has this sonnet 
 on page 43, and seems to borrow its punctuation and capitalization 
 from both the Houghton and Forman texts, thereby forming an- 
 other variant — et sic ad inf. 
 
 Page 69 
 
 (18) "At page 100, Vol. I, of his first Life of Keats, Lord Houghton 
 has quoted a literary portrait which he received from a lady [Mrs. 
 Procter. See Note 18, page 211] who used to see him at Hazlitt's lec- 
 tures at the Surrey Institution [probably during 1817-1818] . . . 
 ' His eyes were large and blue, and his hair auburn.^ . . . Reader, 
 alter in your copy of the Zife of Keats, Vol. I, page 103, 'eyes ' light 
 hazel, ' hair ' lightish brown and wavy." — Recollections of Charles 
 Cowden Clarke. 
 
 Yet only a few pages before, Clarke writes: "John was the 
 only one resembling him (his father) in person and feature, with 
 brown hair and dark hazel eyes." 
 
 " The eyes mellow and glowing ; large, dark and sensitive."— Zon/ 
 Byron and Some of his Contemporaries, etc., by Leigh Hunt, 1828. 
 " At one of our visits, Mr. Severn maintained that Keats' eyes were 
 
226 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 hazel." The Graves of Keats and Severn. Editor of The Century, 
 No. 4, February, 1884, Vol. XXVII, page 603. 
 
 In this connection, curiously enough a similar confusion exists 
 concerning the colour of Wilde's eyes : 
 
 " His eyes are blue, or light grey, and instead of being ' dreamy' 
 are bright and quick."— Ojcar Wilde's Arrival. New-York Daily 
 Tribune, Jan. 3, 1882, page S, cl. 4. 
 
 " His eyes were of a deep blue, but without that far-away ex- 
 pression which is popularly attributed to them." — Oscar Wilde's 
 Arrival. The New York World, Jan. 3, 1882, page i, cl. 4. 
 
 " The eyes were large, dark and ever-changing in expression."— 
 The Lady' s Pictorial. 1882. 
 
 " La pure lumi^re bleue, un pen enfantine, de son regard."— 
 Oscar Wilde et son ceuvre, by J. -Joseph Renaud. La Grande 
 Revue, IJ F^vrier, 1905, page 401 ; also in his ■preia.celo Intentions. 
 Paris : P.-V. Stock, 1905. 
 
 Lord Alfred Douglas, on the other hand, affirms that Wilde's 
 eyes were green. Therefore, according to his friends and inter- 
 viewers, his eyes were deep blue, light grey, dark, or green. 
 
 (19) Charles Cowden Clarke (1787-1877), warm friend of Keats, 
 co-author of Recollections (see following note) : also of Note on the 
 School-House of Keats at Enfield. The St. James' s Holiday Annual, 
 187s. 
 
 ** You fiist taught me all the sweets of song." 
 
 Keats' Epistle to Charles Cowden Clarke, 1. 53. 
 
 (20) Recollections of Writers by Charles and Mary Cowden Clarke, 
 1878, as reprinted, with slight changes, from The Gentleman's 
 Magazine, February, 1874. 
 
 (21) Joseph Severn (1793-1879), the ardent and faithful friend 
 of Keats until his death, and faithful to Keats' memory through the 
 remainder of his own long life. It is to Severn that we owe our 
 knowledge of Keats' last days at the house on the Piazza di Spagna 
 — those bitter hours made so real by the painter's sketch of Keats 
 during his last illness (see Century Magazine, February, 1906, page 
 545). If not a great painter, he was ■& great friend, whose name 
 can no more be disassociated from that of the poet than the tomb- 
 stone with the palette be removed from the stone with the lyre; 
 
NOTES 227 
 
 for in 1882 Severn's body was placed by the side of Keats' in the 
 Protestantcemetery at Rome. See Note 10, page 208 ; Note II, page 
 209; Note 13, page 210; or for special reference to Severn's 
 portraits of Keats, Note 25, page 214. 
 
 (22) This is line 5 of the Sonnet, To My Brother George, origi- 
 nally published as the first poem under the general title of Sonnets 
 in Poems by John Keats, London : Printed for C. & J. Oilier, 
 etc., 1817. 
 
NOTES FOR "ENGLISH POETESSES" 
 
 Page 73 
 
 (1) This essay originally appeared in Queen, The Lady's News- 
 paper, No. 2189, December 8, 1888, Vol. LXXXIV. 
 
 (2) Cf. "Mrs. Browning, the first really great poetess of our 
 Mlnatxae."— Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, No- 
 vember, 1887, or Essays, Criticisms and Reviews, page 115. See 
 also Note 13, page 230. 
 
 (3) The New Year hymn no doubt refers to Old and New Year 
 Ditties, published in Goblin Market and Other Poems (1864). 
 In a letter which Dante Gabriel Rossetti wrote to Hall Caine, he 
 mentioned, however, that "Swinburne thinks The Advent per- 
 haps the noblest of all her poems." 
 
 (*) Swinburne was an ardent admirer of Christina Rossetti's 
 poetry. To her he addressed A Ballad of Appeal. ' ' To Christina 
 G. Rossetti," in A Midsummer Holiday, and Other Poems (1884); 
 to her, he dedicated A Century of Roundels (1883) ; and at her death, 
 wrote an elegy entitled, A New Year's Eve, printed in the Nine- 
 teenth Century, February, 1895. 
 
 Page 74 
 
 (5) SoTT^o, or, in her own dialect ■ianipa, was one of the two great 
 leaders of the .lEolian school of poetry, of which Alcseus was the 
 other. 
 
 (6) Her lyric poems formed nine books, but of these only frag- 
 ments have come down to us. The longest is a splendid ode to 
 Aphrodite. The fragments are edited by Neue, Berlin (1827), 
 and in Bergk's Poeta Lyrici (1867). 
 
 (^ Athos (Haghion Oros, Monte Santo, i. c Holy Mountain), the 
 mountainous peninsula, also called Acte, which projects from Chal- 
 
 229 
 
230 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 dice in Macedonia. This peninsula has, for a thousand years, 
 been studded with numerous monasteries, cloisters and chapels 
 whence it derives its modern name. In these monasteries some 
 valuable MSS. of ancient authors have been discovered. 
 
 Page 75 
 
 (*) Sappho was a native of Mitylene or, as some said, of Eresos 
 in Lesbos. See line lo of Tie Grave of Keats, Note 28, page 217. 
 
 (9) The Cry of the Children (1843). 
 
 (1") Sonnets from the Portuguese, first printed as : Sonnets by E, 
 B. B., Reading. {Not for publication.) 1847. 
 
 Page 76 
 
 (11) Vision of Poets in Poems (1844); Casa Guidi Windows 
 (1851); and Aurora Leigh (l8S7). 
 
 (12) Casa Guidi was the celebrated home of the Brownings in 
 Florence — the house now marked with a commemorative tablet. 
 
 (13) Cf. " Mrs. Browning, the first great English poetess, was 
 also an admirable scholar, though she may not have put the accents 
 on her Greek, and even in those poems that seem most remote from 
 classical life, such as, Aurora Leigh, for instance, it is not difficult 
 to trace the fine literary influence of classical training." — Literary 
 and Other Notes. The IVoman's World, January, 1888. 
 
 (1*) Elizabeth Barrett married Robert Browning in 1846 and 
 shortly afterwards travelled south to Italy by way of Paris, 
 crossing the Alps in the same year. 
 
 Page 77 
 (15) Richard Hengist Home, the author of The Death of Marlowe, 
 to whom she wrote continuously before her marriage. These letters 
 were published under the title of Letters of E. B. Browning to R. 
 H. Home. 
 
 Page 78 
 
 (l«) Cf. "I have worked at poetry; it has not been with me 
 reverie, but art." — Letters of E. B. Browning to R. H. Home. 
 
 Page 79 
 (1') Delphi in Phocis, the seat of the world-renowned temple of 
 Apollo, in the center of which was a chasm, and over this a tripod, 
 
NOTES 231 
 
 whereon was seated the priestess Pythia whenever the oracle was to 
 be consulted. 
 
 Page 80 
 (18) I. Emily Jane Pfeiffer(i827- 1890) -. — GlanArlack (1877) ; 
 Sonnets and Songs (i88o) ; and Under the Aspens (1882) ; etc. 
 
 II. Harriet Eleanor Hamilton-King (1840- '): — The Disci- 
 ples (1878); A Book of Dreams (1882); xaii Ballads of the North 
 (1889). 
 
 III. Augusta Webster (Julia A. J. Davies), (1837- 1894) : — 
 Pseudonym " Cecil Home " ; Dramatic Studies (1866); Portraits 
 (1870), including The Castaway; The Book of Rhyme (1881); also 
 dramatic pieces and translations such as Medea (1866). 
 
 IV. (Mrs. ) Graham R. Tomson (i860 - ): — The Bird-Bride 
 (1889) ; and Summer Night and Other Poems ( 1891). A sympathetic 
 review of the first book with selections from it was included by 
 Wilde in SoTne Literary Notes. The Woman's World, June, 1889. 
 
 V. A. Mary F. Robinson-Darmesteter (1857- ):— A Hand- 
 ful of Honeysuckle {\%^%) ; The Crowned Hippolytus (1881) ; The New 
 Arcadia (1884); An Italian Garden (1886); and Poems, Ballads 
 and a Garden Play (1888). "Miss Robinson's poems have always 
 the charm of delicate music and graceful expression," Wilde writes 
 of the last volume, in A Note on Some Modem Poets. The Woman's 
 World, December, 1888. 
 
 VI. Jean Ingelow (1820- 1897): — A Rhyming Chronicle of 
 Incidents and Feelings (1850); Poems {\%'j\) ; (1876); (1885)— 
 three series. "Jean Ingelow, whose sonnet on "A Chess King" is 
 like an exquisitely carved gem," Wilde writes of her in Literary 
 and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
 VII. May Kendall (1861- •):— Dreams to Sell (1%%'}) mi. 
 Songs from Dreamland (1894)— all in a humorous vein. 
 
 VIII. Edith Nesbit (Bland), (1858) -.—Lays and Legends (\%%(i); 
 Leaves of Life (1888). " There are some wonderfully pretty poems 
 in it, poems full of quick touches of fancy, and of pleasant ripples 
 of rhyme ; and here and there a poignant note of passion flashes across 
 the song, as a scarlet thread flashes through the shuttlerace of a loom, 
 giving a new value to the delicate tints, and bringing the scheme of 
 colour to a higher and more perfect key." Such was Wilde's 
 
232 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 criticism of the last volume, reviewed in Some Literary Notes. The 
 Woman's World, March, 1889. 
 
 IX. May "Sroh-^-a:— Poems [l%%t):— A Ballad of the Road and 
 Other Poems (1SS3); and Pansies, A Booh of Poems (i8g^). "Apoet- 
 ess with the true lyrical impulse of song, whose work is as delicate 
 as it is delightful, " Wilde writes of her in Literary and Other Notes. 
 The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
 X. Mrs. George Lillie Craik (Dinah Maria Mulock), (1S26- 
 1887) -.—Poems of Thirty Years, New and Old (1881). 
 
 Wilde wrote more specifically of these poems in an article entitled 
 A Note on Some Modem Poets, which he contributed to The Woman's 
 World {of which he was the editor) for December, 1888. See also the 
 reprint of this in ^Jja^j, Criticisms and Reviews (1901), pages 32-34. 
 
 XI. Mrs. Wilfred Meynell (Alice C. Th.ompson) -.—Prelttdes 
 1875) and Later Poems (igoi). 
 
 XII. Elizabeth Rachel Chapman : — The New Purgatory and 
 Other Poems (1887). This book was reviewed by Wilde in Literary 
 and Other Notes. The Woman's World, January, 18SS: "All of 
 Miss Chapman's poems are worth reading, if not for their absolute 
 beauty at least for their intellectual intention." 
 
 Page 81 
 
 (19) Cf. "Carlyle's stormy rhetoric. "—jJ/>-. Patet's Last Volume. 
 
 (20) Cf. " Those long sentences of Mr. Pater's come to have the 
 charm of an elaborate piece of music, and the unity of such music 
 also." And later in the same review, "If imaginative prose be 
 really the special art of this century, Mr. Pater must rank amongst 
 our century 's most characteristic artists, "—^r. Pater's Last Volume. 
 " Even the work of Mr. Pater, who is, on the whole, the most per- 
 fect master of English prose now creating amongst us, is often far 
 more like a piece of mosaic than a passage in music." — The Critic 
 as Artist. Part I. 
 
 (21) Cf. "His style is chaos illumined by flashes of lightning. 
 As a, writer he has mastered everything except language," etc.— 
 The Decay of Lying and Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's 
 World, January, 1888. "One incomparable novelist we have now 
 in England, Mr. George Meredith. There are better artists in France, 
 
NOTES 233 
 
 but France has no one whose view of life is so large, so varied, so 
 imaginatively true, etc.''— 7"^^ Soul of Man Under Socialism. 
 " Meredith is a prose Browning, and so is Browning."— TAe Criti( 
 as Artist. Part I. 
 
 (22) Cf. " Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson, that delightful master 
 of delicate and fanciful prose." — Tke Decay of Lying. 
 
 (23) Cf. "Ruskin's winged and passionate eloquence."— jl/r. 
 Pater's Last Volume. 
 
 (24) Cf. "Women seem to me to possess just what our literature 
 wants— alight touch, a delicate hand, a graceful mode of troatTOent 
 and an unstudied felicity of phrase. We want some one who will 
 do for our prose what Mme. de S^vign6 did for the prose of France." 
 — S<mie Literary Notes. The Woman's World, January, 1889. 
 
 Page 82 
 
 (25) Juliana Berners, Bernes, or Barnes {c. 1388-?): — Is be- 
 lieved to have lived in the beginning of the fifteenth century and 
 to have been Prioress of Sopwell Nunnery, Hertfordshire. Pub- 
 lished a work on field sports and heraldry. The Poke of St. Albans 
 (i486). This book contains treatises on hawking, hunting and 
 kindred sports. Cf. Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's 
 World, November, 1887. 
 
 N. B. From this point throughout the essay, all names marked 
 with an asterisk (*) have been referred to by Wilde in almost 
 identical terms in his review of Women's Voices (1887): "An 
 anthology of the most characteristic poems by English, Scotch and 
 Irish women, selected and arranged by Mrs. William Sharp." This 
 review occurs under Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, 
 November, 1887, from which quotations have already been made. 
 
 (26) Anne Askew* (1521-1546) :— Protestant martyr; was twice 
 arraigned for heresy and on the second instance, refusing to recant, 
 was burned at Smithfield. 
 
 (27) Queen Elizabeth, * the pupil of Ascham, could speak Latin and 
 Greek fluently, and French and Italian as well as she did English. 
 She was the author of a number of poems as well as translations of 
 Boethius and Sallust. George Puttenham includes in his Arte of 
 
 * Cf. Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
234 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 English Poesie (1589), the fourteen line poem referred to and terms 
 it "A Ditty of her Majesties owne making, passing sweet and har- 
 monical." Lines ii-iz read as follows: 
 
 " The daughter of debate, that eke discord doth sowe, 
 Shal reap no gaine, where former rule hath taught stil peace to growe." 
 
 Elizabeth wrote a number of letters to James VI of Scotland, which 
 were published by the Camden Society in 1849. 
 
 (28) Mary Herbert,* Countess of Pembroke (c. 1555-1621) :— Sis- 
 ter of Sir Philip Sidney. To her, the latter dedicated his Arcadia; 
 Spenser, his Ruines of Time; Daniel, his Delia. For her, Nicholas 
 Breton wrote The Pilgrimage of Paradise. She was one of the 
 most distinguished litterateurs of her time, herself author of The 
 Doleful Lay of Clorinda, published with Astrophel and Stella; the 
 translator in blank verse from the French of Antonie, a tragedy by 
 Robert Garnier ; collaborator with Sidney in a metrical version of 
 the Psalms (unpublished) ; and editor of her brother's posthumous 
 works. 
 
 Page 83 
 
 (29) Lady Elizabeth Carey* (or Carew). There were two ladies 
 of the same name: the mother {fl. 1590), a patroness of poets, to 
 whom Spenser and Nash dedicated works ; and the daughter, to whom 
 Nash dedicated Terrors of the Night, referring in that dedication to 
 translations of poems from Petrarch. It is generally conceded that 
 the daughter was the author of this tedious tragedy, published 1613. 
 
 (30) Lady Mary Wroth* (Jl. 1621), daughter of Sir Robert Sidney 
 and niece of Sir Philip, whose Arcadia she imitated in The 
 Couniesse of Mountgomerie's Urania. Ben Jonson's dedication 
 reads as follows : — 'To the Lady Most Deserving Her Name and 
 Blood, Lady Mary Wroth. Madam,— In the age of sacrifices, the 
 truth of religion,' etc. — The Alchemist (1612). 
 
 (31) Elizabeth,* Queen of Bohemia (Stuart;, (1596-1662) : — 
 Daughter of James I of England. She became the wife of the Elector 
 Palatine, Frederick V, who was chosen King of Bohemia in 1619 and 
 deposed in 1620, his reign of one winter gaining him the name of 
 " The Winter King." She, however, is remembered as " The Queen 
 
 *Cf . Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
NOTES 235 
 
 of Hearts" and is immortalized in the poem of Sir Henry Wotton 
 written c. 1620, and printed drst in Jieliguics Wotionitz {16^,1). See 
 Palgrave's Golden Treasury, CX : 
 
 " You meaner beauties of the night , " 
 
 (32) Margaret Cavendish,* Duchess of Newcastle (Lucas), 
 c. 1624-1674:— Wrote and published a great multitude of verses, 
 essays and plays (1653-1668). Pope glorified her thus : 
 
 "There, stamped with arms, Newcastle shines complete." — The Dunciad. 
 
 Wilde quotes in Literary and Other Notes three verses from a 
 book of her Poems, published 1693. 
 
 (33) Afra, Aphra or Ayfara Behn* (Johnson), (1640-1689): — 
 Dramatist. In 1671 she brought out Fore' d Marriage. Her plays 
 are published in three or four volumes. Author of many verses, a 
 long allegorical poem entitled Voyage to the Isle of Love, and the 
 story Oroonoko. Referring to this, Mr. Swinburne writes : — "This 
 improper woman of genius was the first literary abolitionist — the 
 first champion of the slave on record in the history of fiction." 
 
 (3<) Katherine Philips* (Fowler), (1631-1664) :— Wrote verse un- 
 der the pseudonym of "Orinda, '' to which an admiring public added 
 the epithet "Matchless." Cowley has written an elegy. On the 
 Death of Mrs. Katherine Philips and an Ode on Orinda' s Poems. 
 She was a very prolific writer. Her collected verses were printed 
 in 1667. Her translation of Corneille's Pompee was acted with 
 great success in Dublin. 
 
 (35) Annie Finch,* Countess of Winchilsea {d. 1720): — Poetess 
 friend of Pope and Rowe. The Spleen, a Pindarique Ode, appeared 
 in 1701 in Giddon' s Miscellany and her Miscellany Poems, Written by 
 a Lady in 1713. From the former. Pope borrowed for An Essay on 
 Man, " We faint beneath the aromatic pain. " Wordsworth made the 
 statement, which Wilde quotes, in a prefatory essay to his volume of 
 1815, having already sent a commendatory sonnet of his own to 
 Lady Mary Lowther. Wilde, in Literary and Other Notes, does not 
 consider Wordsworth's statement accurate, " as it leaves Gay entirely 
 out of account." A new edition of The Poems of Anne, Countessof 
 Winchilsea, has been published in Chicago, 1902. 
 
 •Cf. Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
236 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Page 84 
 (3«) Lady Russell* (Rachel Wriothesley), (1636-1723) :— Daugh- 
 ter of the 4th Earl of Southampton ; celebrated as the amanuensis 
 of her husband in his famous trial, and author of letters since tran- 
 scribed from the MS. in ■Woburn(e) Abbey, first published in 1773. 
 
 (37) Eliza Haywood* (Fowler), (<r. 1693-1756) :— Wrote a great 
 number of dramas, etc. Secret Histories, Novels and Poems (1725), 
 dedicated to Richard Steele. Of her. Pope wrote : 
 
 " Two babes of love close clinging to her waist ; 
 Fair as before her works t she stands confessed, 
 In flowers and pearls by bounteous Kirkall dressed. " 
 
 — The Dunciad. 
 
 t The " two babes " were her scandalous books, The Court of Cari- 
 mania and The New Utopia. 
 
 (38) Anne Wharton," Marchioness of Wharton (Lee), (c. 1632- 
 1685) : — The author of a metrical paraphrase of The Lamentations 
 of Jeremiah and other verse. Edmund Waller wrote of her in 
 On an Elegy on the Earl of Rochester, 
 
 " Her wit as graceful, great and good ; 
 Allied in genius, as in blood." 
 
 (39) Lady Mary Wortley Montagu * (Pierrepont), (1689-1762):— 
 Famous as one of the greatest letter-writers of any age. Has also 
 written verses, town eclogues, and epigrams, and some charming 
 translations of Turkish poems submitted to her when she was in 
 Constantinople. 
 
 (10) Mrs. Susannah Centlivre (1667-1723) :— Dramatist. The 
 Perjured Husband (I'joo') was her first production. Plays (19 in all), 
 with her life, was issued in 3 vols., 1761. Pope's comment reads : 
 "At last Centlivre felt her voice to fail." — The Dunciad, 
 
 (*1) Lady Anne Barnard* (Lindsay), (1750-1825): — Her poem 
 of Auld Robin Gray, was published anonymously when she was but 
 
 22 (1772)- 
 
 (^) "Vanessa," Esther (Hester) Vanhomrigh {c. 1689-1723), 
 was the daughter of a Dutch merchant who had settled in England. 
 Swift became acquainted with Mrs. Vanhomrigh and her two daugh- 
 
 *Cf. Literary and Other Notes. The Woman* s World, November, 1887. 
 
NOTES 237 
 
 ters during a visit to London in 1708, when Esther was not more 
 than 19 years old. She became enamoured of him and her infatua- 
 tion lasted until the day of her death, which was the indirect result 
 of their estrangement. Swift celebrated their love in Cadenus and 
 Vanessa, a long poem written in 1713, revised in 1719 and 
 published after her death by the terms of her testament. 
 
 (43) Dean Swift's " Stella" was Hester (Esther) Johnson (1681- 
 1728), whom he first met as an inmate of Sir William Temple's 
 family. To her he addressed his famous Journal. One of the great 
 puzzles of literary history remains, whether or not Swift married 
 Miss Johnson. 
 
 («) Hester L. (Salisbury), (Thrale) Piozzi * (1741-1821) : — 
 Author of Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson (1786); Letters to and from 
 Dr. Johnson (1788). Her poem. The Three Warnings, appeared 
 in a volume of Miscellanies issued in 1 776 by Mrs, Williams. 
 Mrs. Piozzi was arch-priestess of the Delia Cruscan mutual admi- 
 ration society, and her contributions to the Florence Miscellanies 
 (1785) aflForded a subject for Giflford's satire in his Baviad: 
 
 " See Thrale's gay widow with a satchel roam, 
 And bring in pomp her laboured nothings home ! " 
 
 Page 85 
 
 (45) Mrs. Anna Letitia Barbauld* (Aiken), (1743-1825) : — 
 Author of Poems (1773), Hymns in Prose for Children (I77S). 
 Some of her lighter verse is quite readable. 
 
 (4«) Hannah More * (1745-1833) : — Author of a pastoral drama. 
 The Search after Happiness (1773) ; The Inflexible Captive (1774) ; 
 Legendary Poems; Percy, a Tragedy (1776); The Fatal Falsehood, 
 a Tragedy (1779); Sacred Dramas (1782), v!i€iy}.Xya% Sensibility ; 
 Florio, a volume of verse (1786) ; and later a great amount of 
 didactic prose. Her collected works were issued in 11 vols. (1833). 
 
 Wilde mentions her at greater length in a review of Mrs. Wal- 
 ford's Four Biographies from Blackwood in Some Literary Notes. 
 The Woman's World, March, 1889. 
 
 (4T) Joanna Baillie* (1762-1851) :— Called by Scott " The Im- 
 mortal Joanna," author of Fugitive Verses (1790) ; Plays on the 
 Passions (1798-1836) ; and The Family Legend (1810). 
 *Ct. Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
238 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 («) Mrs. Hester Chapone * (Mnlso), (1727-1801 ) :— Contributed 
 to Johnson's Rambler. Was especially a writer of essays. Letters 
 on the Improvement of the Mind (1772) ; and Miscellanies (1775). 
 
 («) Anna Seward* ( 1 747-1 809) :— At an early age was the 
 author of elegiac verses on Garrick and M«jor Andr6. Wrote a poeti- 
 cal novel, Louise (1782) ; and Poems, 3 vols., bequeathed to and is- 
 sued with a memoir by Sir Walter Scott (18 10). 
 
 (50) L. E. L.* (Pseudonym for Letitia Elizabeth Landon), 
 (1802-1838), afterwards Mrs. Maclean : — First a contributor to The 
 Literary Gazette. Published the following verse : The Fate of 
 Adelaide (1821); The Imfrovisatrice (1824); The Troubadour 
 (1825); The Golden Violet (iSiy) ; etc. Was also a dramatist and 
 novelist. She has been described, despite Disraeli's comment, as a 
 very fascinating woman. Her life was a sad one and her death 
 very tragic. See Christina G. Rossetti's lovely poem, " L. E. L." : 
 
 " Whose heart was breaking for a little love." 
 
 (61) (Mrs.) Ann RadcliflFe* (Ward), (1764-1823) :— Once called 
 the "Salvator Rosa of English novelists." Her first novel was 
 The Castle of Athlin and Dunbayne (1789), which was followed 
 by The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) and The Italian (1797). 
 
 (52) Georgiana Cavendish,* Duchess of Devonshire (Spenser), 
 (1757-1806) :— The author of verses, many of which exhibit much 
 elegance of expression. Her Ode to Hope was commented on by 
 Walpole, who wrote of her, "She effaces all without being a 
 beauty." Her best known poem is The Passage of the Mountain 
 of St. Gothard, first published in France with a French translation 
 (1802), and printed in several foreign languages before its appear- 
 ance in England in 1816. 
 
 (53) I.— Lady Helen Selina Dufferiu* (Sheridan), (1807-1867) :— 
 granddaughter of Richard Brinsley Sheridan. Famed especially 
 for her lyrics, e. g., Terence's Farewell and The Irish Emigrant. 
 
 II.— The Hon. Caroline Elizabeth Norton* (1808-1876) : — rA« 
 Sorrows of Rosalie (1829); The Undying One (1831). Married a 
 second time to Lord Gifford. The third sister Georgina, became 
 Duchess of Somerset, the trio being known as "The Three 
 Graces." 
 *Cf. Literary and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887. 
 
NOTES 239 
 
 (54) (Mrs.) Mary Tighe* (Blackford), (1772-1810) :— Of her 
 poems, the most famous was a version in melodious Spenserian 
 stanzas of the tale of Cupid and Psyche from the Golden Ass of 
 Apuleius, In 1853 there had already been six editions of Psyche 
 published. Keats mentions her also in his verses, To Some Ladies. 
 
 (55) Constantia Grierson * (f. 1706- 1733) :— This lady is said to 
 have been proficient in Hebrew, Latin, Greek and French, and was 
 well-known in her time as a writer of elegant verse, of which an ex- 
 ample was included by Mrs. Barber in her volume Poems on Sev- 
 eral Occasions (1734). She edited Terence (1727) and Tacitus 
 (1730) for her husband, George Grierson, George Ill's printer in 
 Ireland. Was on terms of intimacy with Swift and Thomas Sheri- 
 dan. 
 
 (56) Felicia Dorothea Hemans (Browne), (1793-1835) -.—Lays of 
 Many Lands (1826) ; Records of Women (1828). 
 
 (57) (Mrs.) Mary Robinson,* known as "Perdita" (1758-1800): 
 — Actress and author; mistress of George, Prince of Wales (George 
 IV). A complete edition of her verses appeared under the title of 
 The Poetical Works of the Late Mrs. Mary Robinson. Including 
 Many Pieces Never Before Published. 3 vols. 1806. 
 
 The Ode to the Snowdrop is her best known poem. 
 
 (58) Emily Bronte * (1818-1848) :— Besides being the author of 
 Wuthering Heights, she wrote a number of beautiful poems, such 
 as The Night Wind, A Death Scene, Last Lines and Old Stoic. 
 
 *C£. Literar}! and Other Notes. The Woman's World, November, 1887 
 
NOTES FOR "LONDON MODELS" 
 
 Page 89 
 
 (1) This essay was published in The English Illicstrated Maga- 
 zine, No. 64, January, 1889, page 313, with an ornamental head-piece 
 by James West and fifteen illustrations from drawings by Harper 
 Pennington, engraved by Walker and Boutall, except for the full 
 page which was the work of H. Fitzner Davey. 
 
 J.-Joseph Renaud in Oscar Wilde et son auvre (La Grande 
 Revue, ij Fevrier, 1905), says that in Wilde's house there hung a 
 portrait of "le maitre de la demeure avec une canne, par Arthur 
 Pennington." 
 
 (2) John Pentland Mahaffy (1839- ), C. V. O. (1904), Senior 
 Fellow of Trinity College, Dublin ; Professor of Ancient History, etc. 
 He is the author of translations and works on Philosophy ; Greek 
 Social Life from Homer to Menander (1874) ; Rambles and Studies 
 in Greece (1878); etc., etc. It was with Professor Mahaffy that 
 Wilde made a tour of Greece, via Italy, during the summer of 
 1877. At this period and at the time of his first visit to Italy in 
 1876, were written or conceived many of his early poems, 
 e. g.. Sonnet on Approaching Italy (Turin) ; San Miniato; Ave 
 Maria Plena Grata (Florence) ; Italia (Venice) ; Sonnet Written 
 in Holy Week at Genoa; Rome Unvisited; Urbs Sacra Sterna; 
 Easter Day (Rome) ; The Grave of Shelley (Rome) ; Impression de 
 Voyage; Ravenna (March, 1877), (see Note 29, page 217); Heu 
 Miserande Puer, page 61 ; etc., etc. For a commentary on this trip 
 andtheearlycareerof the poet, sceAn Irish Winner of the Newdigate. 
 The Irish Monthly, No. 65, November, Sixth Yearly Volume, 1878, 
 page 630; also the charming sonnet To Oscar Wilde, Author of 
 "Ravenna," by Augustus M. Moore, page 610 of the same number. 
 
 (3) Pheidias or Phidias (*E«dkr), (B.C. c. 490-432), the pride 
 of Greece, sculptor of Athene Promachos on the Acropolis at 
 Athens, the Athene of the Parthenon (See Wilde's Charmides, 
 verses 18-23), ^^^ the chryselephantine statue of Zeus at Olympus, 
 
242 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 which was considered by the Ancient World as the masterpiece of 
 the whole range of Grecian art. 
 
 (*) Polygnotus (IIoAiiyvurof), one of the most celebrated of 
 Greek painters, who settled in Athens at about B.C. 463. By some 
 he was called the inventor of painting, the art, as distinguished 
 from the handicraft. His most famous paintings in the Lesche, or 
 Hall of the Cnidians at Delphi, represented the Fall of Troy and 
 scenes from the underworld (Pausanias, x, 25-31). He was com- 
 missioned by Cimon to decorate the public buildings of Athens, such 
 as the Temple of Theseus, the Anaceum and the Poecile. He also 
 executed a series of paintings in the Propylsea of the Acropolis. 
 His pictures were without background, as tinted outlines on the 
 white wall. 
 
 (5) Elpinike ('B^n-jvt/o?), daughter of Miltiades, the wife of 
 Callias, a wealthy Athenian, who, as a condition of marriage, paid 
 in behalf of her brother, Cimon, the fine of fifty talents, which 
 had been imposed on Miltiades. — Herodotus,Yl, 132-36; Miltiades, 
 Nepos. 
 
 (') This was Cimon {Ki/imi), (B.C. 504-^-. 449), son of the 
 great Miltiades and Hegesipyle. He first distinguished himself at 
 the time of the invasion of Xerxes (480), and won great victories in 
 466, on both land and sea. From about 471 to 461, he was the 
 greatest power in Athenian politics 
 
 Page 90 
 C) Niagara seems to have been Wilde's i^le noire. His first 
 visit to the Falls was on the Western tour of 1882. He stopped 
 there on February 9th, at the Prospect House, Ontario, and wrote 
 in the Private Album of the Hotel : " The roar of these waters is 
 like the roar when the mighty wave of democracy breaks against 
 the shores where kings lie couched at ease." — New York Herald, 
 February 10, 1882, page 7. Subsequently, however, he seems to 
 have greatly enjoyed baiting the American Press, by questioning the 
 grandeur of the Falls. See Mrs. Langtry on the Hudson. New 
 York Herald, October 30, 1882, page 4, in which Wilde's rather 
 whimsical comments on Niagara are given at some length and taken 
 with apparent seriousness by the interviewer. Here are a few of 
 his later mots on the same subject : 
 
NOTES 243 
 
 "Niagara vnll survive any criticism of mine. I must say, how- 
 ever, that it is the first great disappointment in the married life of 
 many Americans, vifho spend their honeymoons there.''— Oscar 
 Wilde Returns. New York World, August 12, 1883, page £. 
 
 "Niagara is a melancholy place filled with melancholy people, who 
 wander about trying to get up that feeling of sublimity, which the 
 guide-books assure them they can do without extra charge."— 
 London Topics of To-day. New York Times, Nov. 25, 1883, page 5. 
 
 " I was disappointed with Niagara. Most people must be dis- 
 appointed with Niagara. Every American bride is taken there, 
 and the sight of the stupendous waterfall must be one of the earliest, 
 if not the keenest, disappointments in American married Wie."— Im- 
 pressions of America. September, 1883. 
 
 His remark, ' ' I am not exactly pleased with the Atlantic. It is 
 not so majestic as I expected," is in the same category, and called 
 forth almost enough humorous verse to reach from Liverpool to 
 New York. 
 
 Page 91 
 
 (8) Cf. " Popular is he, this poor peripatetic professor of pos- 
 ing." — The Relation of Dress to Art, page 52. 
 
 (') Cf. " The Attorney-General said, ' There are some people 
 who would do away with critics altogether. ' 
 I agree with him, and am of the irrationals he points at. 
 
 No ! let there be no critics ! they are not ' a necessary evil, ' but an 
 evil quite unnecessary, though an evil certainly." — Whistler v. Rus- 
 kin: Art and Art Critics. Chelsea, Dec, 1878; also The Gentle Art 
 of Making Enemies, pages 29-30. 
 
 fl") Cf . " It is only an auctioneer who can equally and impartially 
 admire all schools of Art." — The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 (11) Cf. "That . . . what is ugly in fact may, in its effect, 
 become beautiful, is true.''— 7'/^^ Relation of Dress to Art, page 
 50; also Note for same, page 201. 
 
 Page 94 
 
 (12) Heinrich Fuessli (Henry Fuseli), R.A., was born at 
 Zurich in 1741, and died in London, 1825. He settled in Eng- 
 land about 1767, and adopted painting as a profession. "A fan- 
 
244 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 tastic and prolific designer rather than a painter, he had neither the 
 judgment to control, nor the technical knowledge to adequately 
 represent, the fancies of his powerful, but ill-regulated imagina- 
 tion." — Cyclopadia of Painters and Painting. Edited by John 
 Denison Champlin, Jr., Vol. II., page lOO. 
 
 Cf. "He (Thomas Griffiths Wainewright) tells us frankly that 
 his great admiration for Fuseli was largely due to the fact that the 
 little Swiss did not consider it necessary that an artist should only 
 paint what he sees." — Pen, Pencil, and Poison. 
 
 Page 95 
 
 (13) Cf. "A lovely brown boy, with crisp clustering hair." — The 
 Tomb of Keats, page 6o; also Note to same, page 214. 
 
 (1^) The word "crouch" makes better sense. "Conch" is 
 probably a printer's error overlooked by Wilde or the proof-reader. 
 
 Page 98 
 (15) Cf. The first keynote of The Relation of Dress to Art, 
 page 48. 
 
 (W) Manette Salomon, by Edmond and Jules de Goncourt 
 (1830-1870), 2 vols., 1868. 
 
 (1') Les Frkres Zemganno, by Edmond de Goncourt (1822-1896), 
 published in 1879. 
 
 Page 99 
 (18) Cf. " The professional model is ruining painting, and re- 
 ducing it to a condition of mere pose ami. pastiche." — The Relation 
 of Dress to Art, page 51. 
 
 Page 100 
 (!') Cf . " All costumes are caricatures. The basis of Art is not 
 the Fancy Ball." — Ibid., page 52. 
 
NOTES FOR "'DORIAN GRAY' AND ITS CRITICS" 
 
 Page 103 
 
 (1) This letter appeared in The St. James' Gazette, Thursday, June 
 id, 1890, under the heading, Mr. Oscar Wilde's Bad Case. 
 
 For other replies by Wilde to the criticism of The Picture of 
 Dorian Gray, see The Daily Chronicle, July 2, l8go and The 
 Scots Observer, July 12, August 2 and i6, i8go. 1 
 
 (2) This very virulent attack on the book and the author was 
 printed on Tuesday, June 24, 1890. 
 
 (') The Picture of Dorian Gray, issued simultaneously in Eng- 
 land and America, as the "long story" of Lippincott's Monthly 
 Magazine, pages 3-100, July, 1890— No. 271, Vol. XLVI, of the 
 American edition. The text of this first issue was in thirteen chapters 
 in all. Since then twelve distinctive editions have been published in 
 English, of which three bear the imprint of London ; seven, that of 
 New York ; and two, that of Paris. Of the first three mentioned, 
 one is the soi-disant " Privately Printed" issue, dated 1890, which 
 follows the Lippincott text; the other two were published by 
 Messrs. Ward, Lock & Co., 1891 and 1894, and were the only editions 
 authorized and sanctioned by Wilde. With the former of these two, 
 was issued a supplementary Edition de Luxe of 250 signed copies, used 
 largely for presentation purposes. In the two authorized editions the 
 text has been materially altered and extended, by additions and 
 changes in the sub-divisions, to twenty chapters. They contain, 
 also, a Preface (first published in The Fortnightly Review, March, 
 1891), composed of epigrams which represent his attitudes toward 
 literature, as the verbal manifestation of Art. These epigrams are 
 sometimes referred to as The Credo <yc The Dogtnas. Of the remain- 
 ing editions in English, all follow the Ward & Lock text, except 
 five of the American editions, which were pirated from the first 
 magazine issue. Of the remaining two American editions, the sixth 
 
 24s 
 
246 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 was published by the Charterhouse Press, 1904, and transferred to 
 Brentano's in 1905. The seventh or current edition is Brentano's 
 reissue of the last, with corrections and revisions as regards certain 
 biographical and bibliographical addenda. A translation in French 
 in twenty chapters, was published in 1895 (1900), followed by two 
 editions in cheaper form. The German translations are two in 
 number : one, the work of Johannes Gaulke, published in 1901 ; 
 another, the work of Felix Paul Greve, published in 1903, and 
 now in its third edition. The first is in thirteen chapters; the 
 second, in twenty. There are also translations in Italian and 
 Swedish. 
 
 (*) Cf. "The first condition of criticism is that the critic should 
 be able to recognize that the sphere of Art and the sphere of Ethics 
 are absolutely distinct and separate." — T^e Critic as Artist, 
 Part II. " Art is out of the reach of morals, for her eyes are 
 fixed upon things beautiful and immortal and ever changing. To 
 morals belong the lower and less intellectual spheres. However, 
 let these mouthing Puritans pass ; they have their comic side."— 
 Ibid. Cf. The Rise of Historical Criticism, foot of page 26. 
 
 Page 104 
 
 (5) An extract from this letter with especial reference to this part, 
 is quoted in The Critic, under heading of The Lounger, August 23, 
 1890, No. 347, Vol. XIV, N. S. — The Critic takes sides with Wilde 
 upon the point in question. 
 
 (*) Cf. "The plays are not great; ... As a matter of fact 
 most of them are the outcome of wagers. So was Dorian Gray. 
 I wrote it in a few days, merely because a friend of mine insisted 
 that I could never write a novel." — Translated from Oscar Wilde 
 in Pretextes by Andr6 Gide. This study appeared originally in 
 V Ermitage, June, 1902. It was translated into German by Berta 
 Franzos for the Rheinisch-Westfalischen Zeitung, Nr. 547, 560, 
 568 (1903). Franz Blei made another translation, which he included 
 in In Memoriam. Oscar IVilde, heipzig, igo^ (igo^). The latter 
 was re-translated into English, and issued under Blei's title by Per- 
 cival Pollard, Greenwich, Conn., 1905. Stuart Mason has 
 translated it from the original French and published it as Oscar 
 Wilde. A Study. Oxford, 1905. 
 
NOTES 247 
 
 Page 105 
 C) This second letter appeared Friday, June 27, 1890. 
 
 Page 106 
 
 (8) WUde is more than probably referring to the novels of Mrs. 
 Humphry Ward. Cf. " Robert Elsmere is of course a masterpiece— 
 a masterpiece of the 'genre ennuyeux,' ihs one form of literature 
 that the English people seem to thoroughly enjoy. A thoughtful 
 young friend of ours once told us that it reminded him of the sort of 
 conversation that goes on at a meat tea in the house of a Noncon- 
 formist family, and we can quite believe it. . . . It is simply 
 Arnold's Literature and Dogma with the literature left out." 
 
 — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 (9) It is interesting to note that this is the same point made by 
 Elizabeth Barrett in one of her letters to R. H. Home, when he 
 takes her to task for apparent disregard of rhyme. 
 
 Page 107 
 
 (10) Wilde has had attributed to him a translation of The Satyri- 
 con of Petronius — indeed, a translation with a long introduction, 
 bibliography, and most scholarly notes, was issued in Paris, 1902, 
 with the following note printed on a transparent slip pasted over the 
 publisher's imprint: "The present translation was done direct from 
 the original Latin by ' Sebastian Melmoth' (Oscar Wilde)." The 
 authenticity of this work, however, is questioned, if not altogether 
 denied by Mr. Robert Ross, his literary executor, on the ground 
 that no one can show any part of the MS. in the author's handwrit- 
 ing. 
 
 (11) Wilde himself was an Honour man. The following is noted 
 in Oxford Honours. 1220 — 1894. Clarendon Press. 1894: 
 
 Wilde (Oscar O'F. Magd.) 
 
 I CI. Mod. 1876 [First Class Honour in Classics, awarded by 
 
 Moderator of Magdalen.] 
 EngUsh Verse. 1878. [Newdigate Prize: Ravenna.^ 
 I CI. 1878. [First Class Honour in Classics.] 
 
 Page 108 
 
 (12) "The only real people are the people who never existed, and 
 
248 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 if a novelist is base enough to go to life for his personages he should 
 at least pretend that they are creations, and not boast of them as 
 copies." — The Decay of Lying. 
 
 (13) Cf. "As a method, Realism is a complete failure. "—TXfZ'^faj/ 
 of Lying. 
 
 Page 109 
 
 (1*) This third letter appeared Saturday, June 28, i8go, under the 
 heading : Mr. Oscar Wilde's Defence. 
 
 Page no 
 (15) Cf. The Censure and " Salom^," ^Siges ly)-^. 
 
 Page 113 
 
 (1*) This fourth letter appeared Monday, June 30, 1890, under the 
 same heading as the last : Mr. Wilde's Defence. 
 
 (1') The following letter, to which he has reference, appeared Sat- 
 urday, June 28. 
 
 "To the Editor of the St. James Gazette: 
 Sir: — If Mr. Oscar Wilde is the last man in England (according 
 to his own account), who requires advertisement, his friends and 
 publishers do not seem to be of the same opinion. Otherwise it 
 is difficult to account for the following audacious puff-positive which 
 has been sent through the half-penny post to newspaper editors and 
 others : — 
 
 'Mr. Oscar Wilde will contribute to the July number of Lip- 
 pincott's Magazine a complete novel, entitled The Picture of Dorian- 
 Gray, which, as the first venture in fiction of one of the most promi- 
 nent personalities and artistic influences of the day, will be every- 
 where read with wide interest and curiosity. But the story is in 
 itself so strong and strange, and so picturesque and powerful in 
 style, that it must inevitably have created a sensation in the literary 
 world, even if published without Mr. Wilde's name on the title 
 page. Viewed merely as a romance, it is — from the opening para- 
 graph down to the tragic and ghastly climax— full of strong and 
 sustained interest ; as a study in psychology it is phenomenal ; and 
 judged even as a piece of literary workmanship, it is one of the 
 most brilliant and remarkable productions of the year. ' Such, Sir, 
 
NOTES 249 
 
 is the estimate of Mr. Wilde's publisher or paragraph-writer. Note 
 the adjectival exuberance of the puffer— complete, strong, strange, 
 picturesque, powerful, tragic, ghastly, sustained, phenomenal, bril- 
 liant and remarkable ! For a man who does not want advertisement 
 this is not bad. I am. Sir, Your obedient servant, 
 
 A London Editor." 
 
 June 27. 
 
 Page 114 
 
 (18) Mr. R. H. Sherard mentions in Oscar Wilde. The Story of an 
 Unhappy Friendship, that Wilde had a great aversion for all neolo- 
 gisms, especially those terminating in "ette." 
 
 Page IIS 
 (1') Cf. "There is the despot who tyrannizes over the body. There 
 is the despot who tyrannizes over the soul. . . . The first is called 
 The Prince. The second is called The Pope."— TXf Soul of Man 
 Under Socialism. 
 
NOTES FOR « MR. KIPLING AND THE ANGLO- 
 INDIANS " 
 
 Page 119 
 
 (1) This letter was printed under the heading An Anglo-Indian's 
 Complaint vn The Times (London), Saturday, September 26, 1891. 
 
 (2) Under the title An Anglo-Indian' s Complaint there appeared 
 in The Times, September 25, '91, a long letter signed " An Indian 
 Civilian," in which among other grievances was one against Wilde 
 for attributing vulgarity to the Anglo-Indian. 
 
 (3) Wilde's allusion to the Anglo-Indians and vulgarity occurred 
 first in The True Function and Value of Criticism. Concluded. 
 The Nineteenth Century, September, 1890, No. 163, Vol. XXVIII. 
 This essay, in a somewhat modified form, appeared later as The 
 Critic as Artist. Part II in Intentions. Why Wilde should refer 
 to the magazine issue and not to Intentions, is difficult to understand, 
 for Intentions was published as early as May, 1891. An extract from 
 the passage in question, is quoted here as the first part of the 
 introductory keynotes. 
 
 251 
 
NOTES FOR " A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES " 
 
 Page 123 
 
 (1) This letter was printed in The Speaker (London), December 
 5, 1891. Vol. IV. 
 
 Page 124 
 
 (2) The paragraph in question occurred under "The Week," page 
 648, of the preceding number of The Speaker, November 28, 189 1. 
 
 (') A ffouse of Pomegranates by Oscar Wilde. 
 
 The Design & Decorations of This Book by C. Ricketts & C. H. 
 Shannon. 
 
 James R. Osgood, Mcllvaine & Co. London, MDCCCXCI. 
 
 The Chiswick Press makes the following observation regarding 
 this book of fairy tales in the advertising column of The Century 
 Guild Hobby Horse, October, 1892, No. 28, Vol. VII : 
 
 ^' A House of Pomegranates, The YoungKing, The Birthday of the 
 Infanta, and other Beautiful Tales, by Oscar Wilde. With four 
 full-page illustrations by C. H. Shannon, and numerous decorations 
 in the text by C. Ricketts. With end papers executed in pale 
 olive, and the cover in moss green, pale coral and ivory-white. 
 8vo. cloth, uncut edges and large margins, 21 s. — " 
 
 (*) Charles Shannon designed also the title-pages and bindings 
 for Lady Windermere^s Fan (1893), A Woman of No Importance 
 (1894), and The Duchess of Padua, unpublished, but announced as 
 "in preparation," in the Publisher's List of 1894. The covers of 
 The Importance of Being Earnest (1899) and An Ideal Husband 
 (1899) also suggest his handiwork. Wilde evidently thought highly 
 of his talent as he presented him with a large paper copy of the last 
 play, with the following inscription: "To Charles Shannon: in 
 sincere admiration : in affection : etc." 
 
254 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 (5) Charles Ricketts, of the London firm of Hacon and Ricketts, 
 publishers of the Vale Press Books, to which he contributed a. 
 larger part of the illustrations, initial letters, etc. In addition to 
 his work in A House of Pomegranates, Mr. Ricketts designed the 
 cover for the 1892 limited edition of Wilde's Poems, issued by 
 Elkin Mathews and John Lane ; drew the cover and illustrations, 
 etc., for The Sphinx, published by the same firm in 1894; and was 
 commissioned to supply initial letters and a cover design for The 
 Incomparable and Ingenious History of Mr. W. H., announced in 
 Lane's Publisher's List for 1894, but never issued. 
 
 Page 125 
 
 (*) As an exposition of his views regarding the illustration of 
 books, cf. "At present there is a discord between our pictorial 
 illustrations and our unpictorial type. The former are too essentially 
 imitative in character and often disturb a page instead of decorating 
 it." — Some Literary Notes. The Woman^s World, January, 1889. 
 
 C) In fairness to the author of the paragraph to which Wilde 
 objects, the latter should have acknowledged the critic's favorable 
 comment on the illustrations, if not on the cover design. 
 
NOTES FOR "THE RELATION OF THE 
 ACTOR TO THE PLAY " 
 
 Page 129 
 
 (1) This letter was printed under the title of Puppets and Actor: 
 in The Daily Telegraph, London, February 20, 1892. 
 
 Page 130 
 
 (2) This is quoted in a most interesting article on WUde, entitled 
 Poets and Puppets — and Censors. The Saturday Review, London, 
 July 2, 1892, No. 1914, Vol. LXXIV. 
 
 Also, see the analysis of this letter in an article entitled Puppet 
 and Playwright. The Saturday Review, February 27, 1892, No. 
 1896, Vol. LXXIII. 
 
 Page 131 
 
 (3) Cf. "When a great actor plays Shakespeare, we have the 
 same experience. His own personality becomes a vital part of the 
 interpretation." The Critic as Artist. Part II. 
 
 (*) Cf. " His dancing was funny," cried the Infanta; "but his 
 acting is funnier still. Indeed he is almost as good as the puppets, 
 only of course not so natural." — The Birthday of the Infanta. 
 
 Page 132 
 (5) John Gray, author of Silverpoints (1893). This book is 
 especially remarkable for its cover which was one of the early suc- 
 cesses of modern artistic binding. 
 
 255 
 
NOTES FOR « THE CENSURE AND ' SALOMfi ' " 
 
 Page 137 
 
 (1) This interview was published first in The Pall Mall Gazette, 
 London, Wednesday, June 29, 1892, and on the following day 
 in The Pall Mall Budget, June 30, 1892, Vol. 40, page 947. It was 
 accompanied by a caricature of Wilde as a French religieux, 
 entitled "Monsieur Vilde." 
 
 (2) Salome has indeed been the subject of strange vicissitudes. 
 Written in French by Wilde with slight revisions by his friend, the 
 late Marcel Schwob, so exquisite was the music of its prose and so 
 dramatic its plot that Mme. Bernhardt undertook to produce it, al- 
 though it was by no means a one-role piece. In The Story of an Un- 
 happy Friendship, Robert Sherard tells how its /?-^»z!.?« was delayed 
 and how for obvious reasons Mme. Bernhardt neglected to present 
 it, as had been her intention, in 1895. The play was produced in 
 Paris by Luigne Poe in 1896, and is mentioned by Wilde in his 
 letter of March 10, 1896, vTritten to Robert Ross from prison : De 
 Profundis. Aufzeichnungen und Briefe, translated by Max Meyer- 
 feld, page 102 ; or De Profundis. Prece'de de Lettres £crites de la 
 Prison, translated by Henry-D. Davray, page 17. Reference is like- 
 wise made to this in the introduction to J. -Joseph Renaud's transla- 
 tion into French of Intentions; or see Oscar Wilde et son 
 ceuvre. La Grande Revue, Feb. 15, 1905, pages 400-414. In 
 Germany, it has created a furore from the time of its production at 
 the Neue Theater, Berlin, September 29, 1903. It has also ap- 
 peared on the boards in Italy (see // processo e Vestetica di 
 Oscar Wilde. L. Gamberale. Revista d'ltalia, June, 1904). 
 On the other hand, in English, there seem to have been 
 no more than two productions thus far. The first was of a quasi- 
 private nature by the New Stage Club, at the Bijou Theatre, Archer 
 
 257 
 
258 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Street, W., London, May loth and 13th, 1905. The second was a 
 series of public performances in New York, given at The Berkeley 
 Lyceum, 19 West 44th Street, by the Progressive Stage Society, 
 from Monday, November 13th to Thursday, November i6th, ind., 
 1905. The first performance was for members of the society only. 
 See also Note 4, page 263 fol. 
 
 Page 139 
 
 (3) See Poets and Puppets— and Censors. The Saturday Review, 
 London, July 2, 1892, No. 1914, Vol. LXXIV. This extract is 
 quoted to show what is considered an inconsistency in Wilde's at- 
 titude towards the actor, if compared with the views expressed in 
 Puppets and Actors. This paragraph, beginning with "Every re- 
 hearsal, " and ending with *' and not to me " is quoted in The Sun, 
 New York, April 6, 1895. 
 
 Page 141 
 
 (*) Hirodiade, J acts, Brussels, Theatre dela Monnaie, 1881. 
 
 (5) La Peine de Saba, Paris, Op^ra, February 29, 1862. 
 
 (8) Die Makkabaer, German Opera in 3 acts, Berlin, April 17, 
 
 1875- 
 
 O DivoTfons, a comedy by Victorien Sardou, produced in 1880. 
 
 (8) It is stated, however, on the authority of Mr. Sherard that 
 Wilde received some assistance, though slight, from Marcel Schwob. 
 It was to him that Wilde dedicated The Sphinx, ' ' in Friendship and 
 in Admiration." In the same year (1894), Mimes was published. 
 Wilde was given one of the Japan vellum copies with the inscrip- 
 tion: "4 mon cher Oscar Wilde, son admirateur, son ami. Marcel 
 Schwob." 
 
 Mayer-Andr^-Afare,?/ Schwob was bom 1867. In addition to 
 Mimes, he wrote among other books £tude sur P argot franfais 
 (1889); Cceurdouble (1891); le Roiau masque d'' or {\%<^2); Croisade 
 des enfants (1895); Vies imaginaires (1896); and La lampe de 
 Psyche (1903). He also adapted Hamlet with E. Morand for 
 Sarah Bernhardt, who produced it in 1899. 
 
 Page 142 
 (^) This annonncement called forth much satirical comment, 
 notably. Lines to our New Censor, a satirical poem in five quatrains 
 
NOTES 259 
 
 by W. W. (William Watson) in The Spectator, Saturday, July 9, 
 
 1892, No. 3341, Vol. 69, which was afterwards reprinted in The 
 Poems of William Watson, edition of 1893. A rather amusing 
 cartoon of Wilde as a French conscript was printed above the caption 
 " A Wilde Idea. Or, More Injustice to Ireland! " in Punch, July 
 
 9, 1892, Vol. cm. 
 
 Compare this announcement with the first paragraph of Paris, 
 the Abode of Artists. 
 
 (10) Compare this statement, that on page 139, and the tenor of 
 Wilde's letter to The Times, pages 151-2, with E. G6mez Carrillo's 
 Preface to the Spanish translation of Salome. This rather salacious 
 fantasy is entitled El Origen de la " Salomi „ de Wilde and states as 
 a fact that Wilde wrote the play for Sarah Bernhardt or rather 
 that it was largely her personality that suggested the form of the 
 play. The following are characteristic extracts : 
 
 " Los labios del poeta crispdbanse, sonriendo d la visi6n de 
 Salom^ desnuda. En su entusiasmo de artista sensual, creia ver a 
 Sarah Bernhardt adolescente, bailando, desnuda, ante el mundo." 
 — Page 16. 
 
 " La idea de ver d Sarah Bernhardt, rejuvenecida, bailando 
 desnuda ante el Tetrarca volvi6 a obsesionarle. Y abandonando su 
 lengua natal, principi6 en francos su Salome." — Page 19. 
 
 Wilde's reason for writing Salom/has also been touched upon by 
 Meltzer under the heading Footlights, in The World, December 17, 
 
 1893, page 20. The Sarah Bernhardt theory is probably founded on 
 rumour, if not made out of the whole cloth. 
 
 Page 143 
 (U) This is a reference to The Poet and the Puppets, a travesty 
 by Mr. Charles Brookfield with music by J. M. Glover. This skit 
 began at The Comedy Theatre in May, 1892, and had a run of 
 several months. It was an exceedingly clever burlesque of Lady 
 Windermere's Fan, or rather of the eccentricities of its author. Of 
 it it is said: "Mr. Charles Hawtrey transformed himself for the 
 nonce into the 'Poet' and so well, that it was not even necessary 
 for him to sing 'Neighbor O'Flaherty's Child' to disclose the 
 identity. Later he sang most amusingly, 'A Poet Lived in a 
 
260 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Handsome Style.' " See The Theatre, London, June I, 1892, Vol. 
 29 of Complete Series; The Spectator, Nov. 26, 1892, No. 3361, 
 Vol. 69 ; The Times (London), Friday, May 20, 1892, page 10, cl. 6 ; 
 The Saturday Review, May 28 and July 2, 1892, and The Athenaum 
 May 28, 1892. 
 
 (12) Compare with Wilde's attitude towards the stage, as ex- 
 pressed in this interview, The Relation of the Actor to the Play, etc., 
 Mr. Richard Mansfield's recent defence, Man and the Actor. This 
 illuminating and brilliant essay may be found in The Atlantic 
 Monthly, May, 1906, page 577. " The art of acting," writes Mr. 
 Mansfield, "is the crystallization of all arts. It is a diamond in 
 the facets of which is mirrored every art." 
 
NOTES FOR « PARIS, THE ABODE OF ARTISTS " 
 
 Page 147 
 
 (1) This letter was written or, what is more probable, this state- 
 ment was made on the occasion of the interview recorded in the 
 preceding article. It is quoted under date of June 30, 1892, by the 
 Paris correspondent of a London newspaper. 
 
 (2) Wilde's great love of Paris is evident from the fact that after 
 his release from prison, it was this city which seemed always to draw 
 him to itself, from the more secluded localities where he was 
 urged to remain by his well-wishers. Paris was the home of his 
 early successes, and he numbered among its litterateurs and artists 
 more friends and admirers than he could command in England. It 
 was in Paris that he died. See Robert Sherard's Story of an Un- 
 happy Friendship; the essays of Ernest La Jeunesse or Andr6 
 Gide in In Memoriam. O. W. ; and the articles of J. -Joseph 
 Renaud in La Grande Revue, February 15, 1905 ; and Henry-D. 
 Davray in Mercure de France, June 15, 1905. 
 
 (3) Samson et Dalila, in 3 acts (Op. 47), Weimar, December, 
 1877. 
 
 (<) See Note 4, page 258. 
 
 Page 148 
 
 (5) Athalie or Athaliah, the daughter of Omri, King of Israel, 
 mother of Ahaziah and grandmother of Joash (II Kings, viii, 26 
 and xi, 1-2). Athalie was presented first in 1691 before Louis XIV 
 at Saint-Cyr. 
 
 («) Cf. The Censure and "Salami," page 142 and Note 9, page 
 258 fol. 
 
 961 
 
NOTES FOR « SARAH BERNHARDT AND ' SALOMfi ' " 
 
 Page 150 
 
 (1) This sonnet was first published in The World, London, 
 June II, 1879. Later it was included in Wilde's Poems under the 
 title of Phedre, one of Mme. Bernhardt's most famous r61es. 
 
 Of this r&le Wilde wrote: " For my own part, I must confess 
 that it was not until I heard Sarah Bernhardt in Phidre that I 
 absolutely realized the sweetness of the music of Racine. "—Literary 
 and Other Notes. The Woman's World, January, 1888. 
 
 Page 151 
 
 (2) This letter was printed in The Times (London), Thursday, 
 March 3, 1893. 
 
 (') The review in question appeared under Books of the Week, 
 Thursday, February 23, 1893, page 8, cl. 3: "This is the play 
 written for Mme. Sarah Bernhardt. It is an arrangement in blood 
 and ferocity, morbid, bizarre, repulsive, etc." It is interesting to 
 compare this criticism with the sympathetic review of Henry 
 Norman, in The Illustrated London News, Saturday, March 4, 
 1893, No. 2811, page 278; also with Salome: a Critical Review, by 
 Alfred Douglas, in The Spirit Lamp, an Oxford Magazine, edited 
 by Lord Alfred Douglas, No. I, May, 1893, Vol. IV. 
 
 (*) Salome. Drame en un acte. Paris, Librairie de I'Art 
 Ind^pendant. Londres, Elkin Mathews et John Lane. 1893. A 
 l2mo. with purple wrappers lettered in silver. Pp. 84. The 
 edition was limited to 600 copies (500 for sale) with a small 
 supplementary edition on hand-made paper, numbered and signed by 
 the author ( at least 10 such copies were issued). 
 
 The English version is Lord Alfred Douglas' translation, with 
 illustrations by Aubrey Beardsley, first published in 1894 in an 
 edition of 500 copies, small 4to, and 100 copies on large paper. A small 
 l6mo. reprint of this (4K" » i'H") was issued by the Paper 
 
 263 
 
264 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Covered Book Store, San Francisco, 1896. A full-size reprint 
 with a few extra plates, was published by Melmoth & Co., London, 
 1904, in an edition of 250 numbered copies on hand-made paper and 
 50 numbered copies on Japanese vellum. (See also Note, below.) 
 
 The German versions are three in number : Hedwig Lachmann's 
 translation, with illustrations by Marcus Behmer, 1903 (in its sec- 
 ond edition) ; Isidore L. Pavia and Hermann Freiherr von Tesch- 
 enberg's translation, 1903 (in its fifth edition) ; and Dr. Kiefer's 
 translation, which was the stage version used at the Neue Theater, 
 Berlin, September 29, 1903. Frau Lachmann's version was used 
 as the libretto for a score of an opera by Richard Strauss, produced 
 in Dresden, December 5, 1905. 
 
 The Swedish translation is by Edv. Alkman, 1905, in an edition of 
 500 copies, with a supplementary edition of 50 numbered copies on 
 large paper. 
 
 The Polish translation is by Hew. Gonsowska (Gasowskiej), 
 1904, with four pictorial head-pieces and tail-pieces. 
 
 The Spanish translation is by J. P6rez Jorba and B. Rodriguez, 
 with numerous illustrations by L. Valera and an introduction by 
 E. G6mez Carrillo. See Note 10, page 259. 
 
 The Russian translations are two in number : one by B. and L. 
 Andruson, 1904, edited by K. D. Balmont ; another, by the Baron- 
 ess Rodoshevski, 1905. 
 
 The play has also been presented on the Italian stage : " Salome 
 che Mario Fumagalli ed Edwige Reinach portarono trionfalmente 
 in giro per I'ltalia." — Preface to De Profundis, translated by Olga 
 Bicchierai, Venice, 1905, page 6. 
 
 Note. It is announced that John Lane Company will issue in July a 
 new English edition of Salome, i6mo., unillustrated, but with a 
 cover design by Aubrey Beardsley. Following this will come an 
 illustrated edition (6^" x 8") with an introduction by Robert Ross, 
 the pictures of Beardsley on Japan vellum and an ornamental cover. 
 There will also be a portfolio of Salome drawings, in full-size repro- 
 ductions (9"x 6^"), which will appear in the autumn. 
 
NOTES FOR « THE ETHICS OF JOURNALISM " 
 
 Page 157 
 
 (1) This letter appeared first in TAe Pall Mall Gazette, Thursday, 
 September 20, 1894; was printed later in The Pall Mall Budget, 
 Thursday, September 27, 1894, New Series, No. 1357, 26tli Year; 
 and in The Sun, New York, April 6, 189S, page 4, cl. i. 
 
 (2) The Shamrock was printed in The Weekly Sun, Sunday, 
 August 5, 1894. From this paper it was copied in The Stm, New 
 York, Sunday, August 19, 1894. Its appearance in the latter was 
 noticed by the Reverend William J. McClure of Mt. Kisco, N. Y., 
 who wrote a letter published in The Sun, New York, Thursday, 
 August 23, 1894, calling attention to a scrap album in his possession 
 which contained the original of this poem clipped from The Cork 
 Weekly Herald. Mr. McClure showed several variations in the 
 lines and asked to know how Wilde's name came to be associated 
 with the verses. In an editorial, August 31, 1894, The Sun, New 
 York, commented upon the above letter and requested its colleague. 
 The Weekly Sun, to explain matters. In the meantim so long 
 was the silence on the subject, that Mr. McClure addressed a sec- 
 ond letter to The Sun, Monday, October 8, 1894. In this he re- 
 ferred to a letter received from* Robert H. Sullivan, who had dis- 
 covered in a volume, entitled Gathered Leaflets, this same poem 
 above the signature of Helena Calanan (spelled with a single "1 "). 
 As a matter of fact the mystery had already been cleared away in 
 England. In brief, a poem entitled The Shamrock, signed "Oscar 
 Wilde," was claimed to have been discovered by a correspondent of 
 The Weekly Sun (see the Assistant Editor's letter) in a Cork news- 
 paper for 1888. It then appeared, however, that the author was 
 Helena Callanan, a blind girl. A letter from her, dated The Asylum 
 for the Blind, Infirmary Road, Cork, was published in The Weekly 
 
 26s 
 
266 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 Sun, Sunday, September 23, 1894, together with the poem as orig- 
 inally written. It came to light that this was first printed in The 
 Cork Weekly Herald, 1881. From there, it had been copied by the 
 Boston Pilot, The Sidney Freeman, and The New Orleans Morning 
 Star, appearing later as a " Cork Blind Asylum Poem " in a collection 
 entitled Gathered Leaflets (^Scattered Leaflets), 1885. Such is the 
 history of The Shamrock. Strangely enough the version given in 
 The New York Sun varies from that of The Weekly Sun, from 
 which it purports to be copied, and quite materially from the origi- 
 nal of Miss Callanan. It is here reprinted from the first mentioned 
 version as the least unreadable of the three, but even in this ver- 
 sion, it is such doggerel as to make it difficult to understand how 
 its publication could have been prompted by anything but malice. 
 However noble the sentiment, it hardly comes within the category 
 of rhyme, not to mention poetry. 
 
 (3) This accusation, based on the implication of The New York 
 5»», was made in The Weekly Sun, September 16, 1894. 
 
 Page 158 
 
 (*) This letter was printed first in The Pall Mall Gazette, Mon- 
 day, September 24, 1894; was reprinted in The Pall Mall Budget, 
 Thursday, September 27, 1894, New Series 1357 (as before). The 
 first paragraph was reprinted in The Sun, New York, April 6, 1895. 
 
 (5) The letter referred to, bears so directly upon the answer that 
 it is here reprinted in full : 
 
 "To the Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette: 
 
 Sir: — Mr. Oscar Wilde's letter in your issue of yesterday 
 calls for a few words of explanation from me. Let me in the 
 first place say that we regret exceedingly the suggestion of pla- 
 giarism. V 
 
 The story of the association of Mr. Wilde's name with the poem 
 is a curious and perplexing one. Our own part in the matter is, 
 however, easily explained. Some three months ago one of our cor- 
 respondents sent to us in MS. a poem entitled The Shamrock. The 
 name of Oscar Wilde was appended to it. Accompanying the poem 
 was a letter in which our correspondent said, ' I have copied this 
 
NOTES 267 
 
 poem on the ' ' Shamrock " from an old Irish newspaper which I hap- 
 pened on by accident. It is so beautiful and its sentiment is so fine 
 and tender, that it came to me as a revelation. Oscar Wilde may 
 be a fldneur and a cynic, but it is quite evident from this poem that 
 deep down in his heart he has kept the fire of patriotism burning 
 with something of a white purity. I think the poem is one which 
 The Weekly Sun might well rescue from oblivion.' 
 
 This then, Sir, was the way in which we came to give the poem 
 publicity in The Weekly Sun, and this the spirit in which the name 
 of the elegant ornament of polite society came to be connected with 
 it in our pages. Mr. Oscar Wilde places our ascription of the poem 
 to himself, on the level of certain ' scurrilous attacks ' which haunt 
 his imagination. The suggestion is characteristic. I am not con- 
 cerned here to defend the poem. It may be and doubtless is assail- 
 able, but even the most fastidious critic cannot deny that it is full of 
 melodic charm and breathes a spirit of pure and exalted patriotism. 
 So conspicuous, indeed, was its elevation of tone that we were re- 
 luctant to believe that it could have been the product of a mind like 
 Mr. Oscar Wilde's, and were driven to take refuge in the charitable 
 belief that it belonged to the period of a forgotten and generous 
 
 youth. 
 
 Faithfully yours. 
 
 The Assistant Editor." 
 Weekly Sun Office, 
 
 Tudor St., E. C, Sept. 21st. 
 
 iV. B. The above letter appeared in the same issues of The Pall 
 Mall Gazette and Budget as Wilde's reply, and in The Weekly Sun, 
 Sunday, September 23, 1894. 
 
 Page 160 
 (6) The gist of this controversy and this particular part of the 
 letter is quoted (or rather misquoted) in The Critic, October 13, 
 1894, No. 660, Vol. 25 of the Complete Series (London Letter). 
 Apropos of his dogma that " the artist moves in a cycle of master- 
 pieces," he is said to have been asked why it was, he had never 
 collaborated. His reply was : " The cycle is not a cycle made for 
 two."— r/i^ Theatre, London, March I, 1895, page 185. 
 
NOTES FOR « DRAMATIC CRITICS AND 
 AN ' IDEAL HUSBAND ' " 
 
 Page 163 
 
 (1) This interview appeared in Sketch, London, January, 1895, 
 and is from the pen of Gilbert Burgess. It was reprinted under the 
 title of A Highly Artistic Interview in The New- York Daily Tribune, 
 Sunday, January 27, 1895. 
 
 (2) The premiere of An Ideal Husband occurred at the Hay- 
 market, Thursday, January 3, 1895. It was not issued in book 
 form until 1899, at which date it was published by Leonard Smith- 
 ers in an edition of 1000 copies, with a supplementary edition of 
 100 signed copies on large paper and 12 signed copies on Japan 
 vellum. The text was subjected to considerable revision prior to 
 its appearance in the library edition. It is included in The Plays of 
 Oscar Wilde. Boston, John W. Luce and Co., 1905, Vol. II. 
 
 Page 166 
 
 (3) Lady Windermere^ s Fan, at the St. James Theatre, Saturday, 
 February 20, 1892 ; A Woinan of No Importance, at the Haymarket 
 Theatre, Wednesday, April 19, 1893; and An Ideal Husband, 
 already referred to. 
 
 Page 167 
 (*) Cf. Notes 12 and 13, pages 247-8, and page 108. 
 
 Page i68 
 (S) A Woman of No Importance has been issued in the following 
 editions : 
 
 I. A Woman of No Importance. London, John Lane, 1894, in 
 an edition of 500 copies, with 50 additional on large paper. 
 
 II. A Woman of No Importance. Paris, Privately Printed, 1903, 
 in an edition of 250 numbered copies. 
 
 III. The Plays of Oscar Wilde. Boston, John W. Luce and 
 Co., 190S, Vol. I. There are translations in German and Italian. 
 
 269 
 
270 DECORATIVE ART IN AMERICA 
 
 {^)Lady Windermere's Fan has been issued in the following edi- 
 tions : 
 
 I. Lady Windermere's Fan. A Play about a Good Woman. 
 London, Elkin Mathews and John Lane, 1893, in an edition of 
 500 copies, with 50 additional on large paper. 
 
 II. Lady Windermere's Fan, etc. Paris, Privately Printed, 1903. 
 in an edition of 250 numbered copies. 
 
 III. Lady Windermere's Fan, etc. New York, Samuel French, 
 n. d. (1904). The text is that of the library edition followed by 
 I and II. 
 
 IV. Lady Windermere' s Fan, etc. London, Samuel French, Ltd., 
 n. d. This is the acting edition in its unrevised form. 
 
 V. The Plays of Oscar Wilde. Boston, John W. Luce and Co., 
 1905, Vol. I. There is also a translation in German. 
 
 (') It is interesting to compare the actual opinions of the leading 
 critics of England and America, few of whom have treated this play 
 with favour. For comments of the Press and leading reviews, see 
 the following : 
 
 The Athenaum,'^3H. 12, 1895; The Saturday Review, the same 
 date ; The Academy, Jan. 19th ; The Illustrated London News, Jan. 
 12th; The Times (London), Jan. 4th; The Theatre, Feb. I, 1895; 
 Punch, Feb. 2, 1895 ; The Critic (New York), Jan. 26 and March 16 ; 
 Life, March 28th, 1895 ; any of the New York daily papers for 
 Wednesday, March 13th, 1895. The play was produced the night 
 before the last mentioned date at the Old Lyceum Theatre, New 
 York City. 
 
 Page 169 
 (8) Victorien Sardou(l83i- ): Member of 1' Academic Fran- 
 jaise June 7, 1 877; author of Dora (1877); Divorfons (1880); 
 Fedora (1882); Thiodora (1886); La Tosca (1887), etc., etc. 
 
 Page 170 
 (9) Purple was one of Wilde's favourite words and he used it often 
 with tragedy, as "the purple dignity of tragedy." — The Critic as 
 Artist. Part II. " I thought I could bear a real tragedy if it came 
 to me with purple pall."— iJif Profundis. 
 
INDEX 
 
Nothing that actually occurs is of the smallest importance. 
 
 —Phrases and Philosophies for the use of the Young. 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abbreviations : 2 (K. i, 3)=page 2, first and third introductory 
 Keynotes; N.^ indicates that all following references are to the 
 notes; 175(3, 6— Q)^page 175, notes 3 and 6 to 9 inclusive; 
 Q.;^=quoted; Q.i.f.,=quoted in full; bibl.=bibliography; W.=Oscar 
 Wilde J a change from comma to semicolon after a series of pages 
 following Q., denotes that all subsequent pages contain allusions 
 only: for example, in Q., 255(3), 272(9)! I75(7). the first two notes 
 contain quotations, the last an allusion only. 
 
 Abbey, Mr., the theatre manager, 
 N., 194(7). 
 
 Abbruzi, a brigand from the, 52. 
 
 Academe, the, 150. 
 
 Academy, The, N., 176(0), 270(7). 
 
 Acrobats, the grace of, 97-8. 
 
 Actor, the, as interpreter, 32 
 (K. 3, 4), 128 (K. 1-3), 130-2, 
 136 (K. i), 171: N., 255(3). 
 
 Adonais (Keats), N., 209(12), 211 
 (16). 
 
 Adonais, Shelley's, Preface to, N., 
 p., 58 fol.: N., Q., 210(13-4)- 
 
 Advertisement, its value, 35; 
 should not be used to forestall 
 the critic's or public's opinion, 
 113— 4: N., *Xondon Editor's" 
 comment, 248(17) fol. 
 
 Esthetic Boom, "OW!" 's paro- 
 dies of W.'s poems, N., 177(14) 
 fol. 
 
 .Esthetics, The New, xiv: W.'s 
 theories and dogmas, xix, xxi— 
 xxiii, 2 (K. 1-4), 40 (K. 3, 
 4), 48 (K. 4, S), 64 (K. 
 4), 88 (K. I, 2), 102 (K. 
 4-6), 108, 118 (K. 2), 120, 122 
 (K. I, 2), 126, 128 (K. 2, 3), 
 132-3, 136 (K. 2), 154 (K. 3), 
 167, 170: N., 182(5), 244(12), 
 246(4), 247(12) fol., 248(13). 
 
 Ajax, 90. 
 
 Alchemist, Ben Jonson's, 83: N., 
 234(30). 
 
 Alcott, I.ouisa, N., 189(8). 
 
 Alkman, Edv., N., 264(4)- 
 Alroy, Lady. See Lady Ah 
 America, Lecture on, Q., i8, 
 
 Amsterdam, the Jews' quarter of, 
 49- 
 
 Andover Review, The, N., 176(9). 
 
 Andruson, 6. and L., translators 
 of Salami, N., 264(4). 
 
 Anecdotes, of W., N., 193(4), 
 216(28), 243(7), 267(6). 
 
 Anglo-Indian s Complaint, An, N., 
 251(1). 
 
 Anglo-Indians, 119-20: N., 251 
 (1-3)- 
 
 Anstey (Thomas Anstey Guthrie), 
 115- 
 
 Apollo's shrine, 79: N., 230(17) 
 fol. 
 
 Ariel, 54, 132: N., 203(13). 
 
 Arizona, the steamer, N., 176 
 (lo-i). 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, 8i: N., 247(8). 
 
 Art (general), xi, xiv, xvii— xxi, 
 xxvii, xxix (K. 2), 2 (K. i, 4), 
 3, II, 13, 26, 36, 45, 48 (K. 
 3-5), 49. 52-3, 56 (K. 3), ,64 
 (.K. 4), 88 (K. 2-4), 102 (K. 
 4—6), 103-15 passim, 118 (K. 2), 
 120, 122 (K. I, 4), 125-6, 136 
 (K. 2), 139-41, 143, ,147. 
 152, 162 (K. 1-3), 163, 166-7, 
 170-1: N., 182(5), 193(3), 
 197(5). 198(6-10), 199(12, II), 
 201(2), 202(11— 2) fol., 243(10), 
 244(19), 246(4). 
 
 Art, American, xx, 2 (K. 4), 3-5, 
 9, 11-5: N., 181(1), 185(13). 
 
 Art, conditions of, 50, 88 (K. 4), 
 102 (K. 4), 118 (K. 2), 122 
 (K. I, 2), 167, 169: N., 182(5), 
 198(8). 
 
 «73 
 
274 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Art, Decorative xvii— xx, 2 (K. 
 2, 3). 4-6f 9-12, 14-S, 29, 122 
 (K. I, 2): N., 183(9, 10), 184 
 (11), 194(9), 507(5). 
 
 Art, Dramatic. See Dramatic Art. 
 
 Art, Illustrative, 122 (K. 3) : N., 
 254(6). 
 
 Art, Pictorial, xxi, 10, 26—30, 40 
 (K. i-s), 43-46, 48 (K. 5), 49- 
 52, 54, 88 (K. I, 6), 89-100 
 passim, 139: N., 183(9, 10) foL, 
 184(11), 193(5), 194(6, 10), 
 197(3, 5), 198(9), 199(12, 1, II), 
 201(2-5), 202(6), 214(25) fol., 
 215(26), 226(21), 241(1), 242 
 . (4),, 243(12) fol., 244(18). 
 
 Art Schools, for children, xvii, 
 14-iS: iV;^ i85(i4-5, 17), 207(5). 
 
 Arte of English Poesie, Putten- 
 ham*s, Q., 82: N., z^z^^y^ fol. 
 
 Artist, The, p., 56. 
 
 Artist in Attitudes, An, by Arthur 
 S^ymons, Q., xi: N., 175(4). 
 
 Artists' Models. See Models. 
 
 Askew, Anne, 82: N., her mar- 
 tyrdom, 233(26). 
 
 Atalanta in Calydon, Swinburne's, 
 129. 
 
 Athalie, Racine's, 148: N., 261(5). 
 
 Athen(Eum, The, 67-8: N., 197(3), 
 220(6), 223(14) fol., 224(16—7) 
 
 fol., 260(11), 270(7). 
 
 Athens, 89, 100: N., 2411.3; 101., 
 242(4-6). 
 
 Athos, 74: N., 229(7) fol. 
 
 Atlantic Ocean, W. s disappoint- 
 ment in the, N^ 243(7). 
 
 Atlantic Monthly, The, N., 260(12). 
 
 Auld Rohin Gray, Lady Anne 
 Barnard's, admired by Scott, 
 84: N., 236(41). 
 
 Aurelian Walls, 60: N., 207(6, 7). 
 
 Aurora Leigh, E. B. Browning's, 
 76: N., 230(11, 13). 
 
 Ave Maria Plena Grata, N., 241 (2). 
 
 Baillie, Joanpa, 85: N., her 
 
 verses; Scott's epithet, 237(47). 
 Ballad of Reading Gaol, The, M., 
 
 Q., 213(23); 216(28). 
 Ealmont, K. D., editor of the 
 
 Russian translation of Salome, 
 
 N., 264(4). 
 Baltimore, Maryland. N., 182(3). 
 Barbauld, Anna Letitia, 85: N., 
 
 237(45)., , . „ , 
 
 Barnard, Lady Anne, Scott's re- 
 mark, 84: N., 236(41). 
 
 Barrett, Lawrence, his admira- 
 tion for Vera, N., 195(1). 
 
 Basil-treev the, 61 : N., 217(28, 30). 
 
 Baviad, William Gifford's, N., Q., 
 237(44)- 
 
 Beardsley, Aubrey, N., 263(4) 
 
 fol., 264 (Note). 
 Beaudelaire, Charles, 45; Q., 49: 
 
 N., 199(11). 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, N., Q., 
 
 209(12). 
 Becky Sharp, 85. 
 Beecher, Rev. Henry Ward, iV., 
 
 entertains Wilde, 189(8). 
 Beerbohm, Max, Q., xxvii: N., 
 
 180(42). 
 Behn, Aphra, 83: N., her plays, 
 verses, etc.; Swinburne's state- 
 ment, 235(33). 
 Bellew, Kyrle, for the part of 
 Czarevitch in Vera, N., 196(2). 
 Bemard-Beere, Mrs., N., 195(1). 
 Berners, the Abbess Juliana, 82: 
 N., her life and works, 233(25). 
 Bernhardt, Sarah, the interpreter 
 of SalomS, 137; the greatest 
 artist on any stage, 138; for 
 whom it is the fashion to write 
 single-role pieces, 139: pre- 
 vented by engagements from 
 giving an invitation perform- 
 ance of Salome, 140; met 
 W. at Henry Irvine's; asked 
 to have Salome read to her; 
 at once wished to play title- 
 role, 142; to produce play 
 in Paris, 143; W.'s sonnet 
 to her, 150; her desire to take 
 part of Salome a source of 
 pleasure to W., 151; the play 
 not written for her, 152: N., 
 her failure to produce play, as 
 anticipated, 257(2); for whom 
 Marcel Schwob adapted Hamlet, 
 258(8); who inspired Salome, 
 according to E. Gomez (jarrillo, 
 259(10); her acting in Phedre, 
 263(1); for whom Salomi was 
 written, according to The Times, 
 263(3). 
 
 Bernhardt, Sarah, Sonnet to, 
 Q.i.f., 150: N., 263(1). 
 
 Best of Oscar Wilde, The (1904), 
 collected by Oscar Herrmann; 
 edited by W. W. Massee, N., 
 216(28). 
 
 Bicchierai, Olga, N., 264(4). 
 
 Birthday of the Infanta, The, N., 
 Q., 255(4). 
 
 Blei, Franz, N., 175(4), 246(6). 
 
 Boccaccio, N., Q., 217(30), 222 
 (12). 
 
 Bogue, David, publisher of W.'s 
 Poems, N., 205(1). 
 
 Boke of St. Albans, Juliana Ber- 
 ners', 82: ATy 233(25). 
 
 Boniface, G. C, as the Czar in 
 Vera, N., 196(1). 
 
 Boston, Mass, xvi, 90: N., 182(3), 
 
INDEX 
 
 275 
 
 188(7), 189(8, 9) fol., 190(10) 
 fol., loi(ii), i?5(i), 266(2). 
 
 Boston Music Hall, N., 188(7). 
 
 Boucher, Maurice, 132. 
 
 Boucicault, Dion, N., 195(1). 
 
 Brawne, Fanny, W. s sonnet on 
 Keats' love letters to, Q.i.f., 56: 
 N., Keats' love letters to: tlieir 
 publication; Mr. H. B. For- 
 man's comment on publication, 
 205(2) fol.; Mr. Sidney Col- 
 vin's attitude, 206(2); sale by 
 auction; quotation from letter 
 XXXIX, 206(3). 
 
 Brignole Sale, Palazzo, JV., 213(23). 
 
 Briton, the typical, Tartuffe seated 
 in his shop behind the counter, 
 148. 
 
 Bromgton, 85, 100. 
 
 Bronte, Emily, 85: AT., her poems, 
 
 .,,239(58). 
 
 Brookfield, Charles, N., 259(11) 
 fol. 
 
 Brooklyn, N. Y., N., 188(7) fol. 
 
 Brown, Charles Armitage, 66: AT., 
 219(4); bis life, 221(9) fol. 
 
 Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, 58; 
 the one great poetess whom 
 England has given the world: 
 by whose side Swinburne would 
 put Christina Rossetti, 73; ap- 
 proachable only by Sappho, 74; 
 the latter only a memory, the 
 former an imperishable glory to 
 our literature; The Cry of the 
 Children, Sonnets from the 
 Portuguese, 75; Vision of the 
 Poets, etc.; her debt to Greek 
 literature and Italjr, 76; the 
 strength and sincerity of her 
 poetry; the deliberate rugged- 
 ness of her rhyme; its pleasur- 
 able element of surprise, 77', 
 her ideal of the poet's mission, 
 with quotations, 78; as the 
 wisest of the Sibyls; her influ- 
 ence on the awakening of 
 woman's song, 70; 80—1, 84, 86; 
 JV., the first really great poetess 
 of our literature, 229(2); 
 chronology of the poems men- 
 tioned, 230(9—11); home in 
 Florence, 230(12); first great 
 English poetess; an admirable 
 scholar, 230(13); her marriage 
 and journey to Italy, 230(14); 
 letters to R. H. Home, 230(15); 
 her life's work "not reverie, 
 but art," 230(16); 247(9). 
 
 Browning, B. B., Letters of, to 
 R. If. Home, 77 ■ N., Q., 
 230(16); 230(15), 247(9). 
 
 Browning, Robert, 130: iV., 230 
 (12, 14). 233(21). 
 
 Bunthome, Reginald — in Patience. 
 N., 176(12) fol., 188(7). 
 
 Burgess, Cilbert, xxv: Q., 163-72: 
 N., 269(1). 
 
 Burlington, The. A Monthly Maga- 
 zine, edited by Helen B. Math- 
 ers, AT., 216(28). 
 
 Burlington House, 51, 96. 
 
 Burnand, Sir Francis Cowley, 
 xv: N., 176(10), 177(13). 
 
 Byron, 58, 77: N., 213(22), 
 222(12), 225(18). 
 
 Caine, Hall, N., 229(3). 
 
 Caliban, 54: N., 203(13). 
 
 Cahforma, 14, 66: N., 182(3), 
 184(13) fol., 187(1), 188(4). 
 
 Callanan, Helena, author of The 
 Shamrock, Q., 155-6: N., 265 
 (2) fol. 
 
 Cambridge, England, N., 197(2). 
 
 Camelot, 72 (K. 1). 
 
 Canaan, a patriarch of, 52. 
 
 Carew, Elizabeth, 83: N., pa- 
 troness of poets, 23^^(29). 
 
 Caricatures, of W., xiv, xv: N., 
 176(10), 177(14) fol., 182(4, 7) 
 fol., 190(10), 257(1). 
 
 Carlyle, 81 : N., his rhetoric, 
 232(19). 
 
 Carpenter, G. R., JV., 176(9). 
 
 Carrillo, E. Gomez, N., Q., 
 259(10), 264(4). 
 
 Carte, R. D'Oyly, W.'s manager 
 in America, 32: JV., 176(12), 
 181(2), 190(10), 195(1), 196(2). 
 See Letters, unpublished. 
 
 Casa Guidi, 76: N., 230(12). 
 
 Casa Guidi Windows, E. B. 
 Browning's, 76: N., 230(11). 
 
 Catch phrases, used by W. See 
 Phrases. 
 
 Cenci, Shelley's, 129. 
 
 Censor, Lines to our New, Wil- 
 liam Watson's, JV., 258(9) fol. 
 
 Censorship, Government, over im- 
 aginative literature: the arts, 
 no; the drama (according to 
 W.'s interviewer), 137—8; appar- 
 ently regards the stage as the 
 lowest of all arts, 139; allows 
 the low and shameful in life to 
 be portrayed, but suppresses en- 
 nobling subjects from the Bible; 
 its injury to actors, 140; bars 
 the great religious operas (ex- 
 amples cited), 141; yet allows 
 the private individual to be 
 caricatured on the stage, 143; 
 147-8. 
 
 Censure and ' Saloml," The, xxiv, 
 135. 1,17-43: JV., 248(15); 
 Notes for, 257-60; 261(4, 6), 
 264(5)- 
 
276 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Centlivre, Susannah, 84 : N., her 
 plays; Pope's comment, 236(40). 
 
 Century Guild Hobby Horse, The, 
 N., Its history, 219(1); 220(7), 
 224(16), 2S3(3). 
 
 Century Magazine, The, N., 177 
 (14), 208(10), 209(12), 214(25) 
 fol., 216(26), 219(3), 225(18) 
 fol., 226(21). 
 
 Cestius, Caius, 58: N., 207(6, 7) 
 fol., 211(10). 
 
 Chain of Pearl, A, by Diana 
 Primrose, 83. 
 
 Chapman, Elizabeth R., 80: N., 
 her poems; W.*s comment, 
 232(18, XII). 
 
 Chapone, Hester, 85: A^., her es- 
 says, 238(48). 
 
 Charles 1, of England: dress at 
 the time of, 7; 83. 
 
 Charmides, N., 241(3). 
 
 Chelsea, 51: N., 199(12), 243(9). 
 
 Cheret, 123. 
 
 Chicago, Illinois, N., 182(3), 
 190(10). 
 
 Chickering Hall, N. Y., N., 
 181(2). 
 
 Childs, George W., N., i8g(8). 
 
 Chinese Quarter, the, at San 
 Francisco, 14; N., 185(13). 
 
 Chinese Sage, A, Q., 146. 
 
 Christ, on the cross, 139; 140. 
 
 Chronicle, The Daily (London), 
 N., 245(1). 
 
 Cicero (Select Letters), the copy 
 of, which W. used and anno- 
 tated with copious marginal 
 notes during his course at Ox- 
 ford, N., 216(28). 
 
 Cimon, 89: N^ 242(5, 6). 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio, N., 182(3), 
 215(26). 
 
 Clarke, Charles Cowden, 69: N., 
 Q., 225(18); 22(9), 226(19, 20). 
 
 Claude Lorraine, 29: N., 194(10). 
 
 Cleopatra, 84. 
 
 Cogblan, Miss Rose, for the part 
 of Vera; in A Woman of No 
 Importance, N., 196(2). 
 
 Colonel, Burnand's, xv: N., 177 
 (13). 
 
 Colvui. Sidney, N., Q., 206(2), 
 223(13). 
 
 Commination Service, 54. 
 
 Common sense^ the enemy of ro- 
 mance, 102 (K. 7). 
 
 Cork Weekly Herald, The, N., 
 263(2) fol. 
 
 Comeille, Pierre, N., 235(34). 
 
 Corot, Jean B. C, 170. 
 
 Correggio, 10: N., 184(11). 
 
 Correggio, Antonio Allegri da. 
 His Life, etc., by Corrado 
 Ricci, N., Q., 184(11). 
 
 Cowley, Abraham, 83: JV., 235(34). 
 Craik, Mrs. George Lillie. See 
 
 Mulock. 
 Critic, The (New York), N., 
 
 246(5), 267(6), 270(7). 
 CntK as Artist, The. Part I, Q., 
 
 18, 24, 40, 64, 72, 88, 154: N., 
 
 Q., 232(20), 233(21). 
 Critic as Artist, The. Part II, Q., 
 
 xi, xii, XX, xxiii, xxvii, xxix, 2, 
 
 18, 32, 40, 88, 102, 118, 122, 
 
 128, 146, 154, 162: JV Q., 175 
 (s). 198(9, 10), 243(10), 246 
 (4), 255^3), 270(9); 175(7), 
 179.(28), 180(38, 43), 251(3). 
 
 Criticism, dramatic, lack ox preju- 
 dice necessary for, iz^ (K- 2); 
 its poverty in England, 143; a 
 misnomer, 163; in our own day 
 has never had a single success, 
 164; its representatives in need 
 of education, 16S; they subor- 
 dinate psychological interest to 
 mere technique, 168 fol.; they 
 believe it the duty of the drama- 
 tist to please the public, 169 fol. 
 
 Criticism, the function of, xxiv, 
 24 (K. 4, s), 40 (K. 5), 45, 
 103, 105-6, no— 2, 114-S, 126, 
 136 (K. 2), 143, 162 (K. 4), 
 163--4: ATy 198(9), 246(4). 
 
 Cry of the Children, E. B. Brown- 
 ing's, 75: N., 230(9). 
 
 Crystal Palace, the, 43. 
 
 Damascus, tiles of, xxi, 40 (K. 4), 
 72 (K. i). 
 
 Daniel Press, the, tj., 215(25). 
 
 Dante, 65, 76—7: JV., 220(6). 
 
 Dante, the, in which Keats wrote 
 his notes, 65. 
 
 Darmesteter, Mrs. Mary F. (Rob- 
 inson), 80: JV., her works; W.'s 
 opinion of her poems, 231 
 (18, V). 
 
 Darmont, Albert, 137. 
 
 Davray, Henry— D., JV., Q., 214 
 
 „(23); 257(2), 261(2). 
 
 Decamerone, II, of Boccaccio, 
 translation of, N., 217(30). 
 
 Decay of Lying, The, Q., xi, xix, 
 2, 24, 64, 72, 88, 102, 122, 128, 
 136; xiv: JV Q. 201(3), 
 212(19), 232(21), 233(22), 247 
 (8, 12) fol., 248(13); 175(6), 
 178(25). 
 
 Decorative Art in America, xvii 
 fol., I, 3-15: JV., 178(16, 21-2, 
 24), 179(26, 32, 35); Notes for, 
 181-s; the first delivery of the 
 lecture, 181(1); 203(12), 207 
 (5). 
 
 De Goncourt, Edmond, 98: JV., 
 244(16-7). 
 
INDEX 
 
 277 
 
 De Goncourt, Jules, 98: N., 244 
 
 (16). 
 Delaroche, Paul, 45: N., igg 
 
 (12, I, II). 
 Delphi, 79: N., 230(17) fol., 
 
 242(4). 
 Denver, Colorado, AT., 182(3). 
 De Profundis, Q., ix fol., 48, 88, 
 
 102: N., Q., 203(13), 270(9); 
 
 ysd), 181(1), 214(23): in 
 
 German, in French, 257(2); in 
 
 Italian, Q., 264(4). 
 De Profundis. Aufseichnungen 
 
 und Briefe, Max Meyerfeld's 
 
 translation, J\^, 257(2). 
 De Profundis. Pricide de Lettres, 
 
 etc., Henry— D. Davray*s trans- 
 lation, N., 214(23), 257(2). 
 Detroit, Michigan, N., 183(9), 
 
 184(10). 
 Devonshire, Georgiana, Duchess 
 
 of, 85: iV., her verses; Wal- 
 
 pole*s comment, 238(52). 
 Dia/, The (London), N., 219(4) 
 
 fol., 220(6). 
 Dickens, Charles, 118 (K. i). 
 Diplomacy, adapted from Sar- 
 
 aou*s Dora, 169. 
 Disraeli, Benjamin, Earl of Bea- 
 
 consfield, his description of L. 
 
 E. L., 85: N., 238(50). 
 Divorgons, Sardou's, 141: N.j 
 
 258(7), 270(8). 
 Dora, Sardou's, 169: iV., 270(8). 
 Dorian, the grave, mode of verse, 80. 
 "Dorian Gray" and its Critics, 
 
 xxiv, loi, 103—16: JV., Notes 
 
 for, 245-9; 269(4). 
 Douglas, Lord Alfred, N., Q., 
 
 226(18); 263(3, 4) fol. 
 Dramatic Art, the canons of, xxiv, 
 
 24 (K. 6), 32 (K. 2), 33, 36-7, 
 
 128 (K. 3). 
 Dramatic Critics and "An Ideal 
 
 Husband," xxv, 161, 163—72: 
 
 AT., Notes for, 269—70. 
 Dramatic Review, The, N., 205(1). 
 Dream, On a, Keats' sonnet, N., 
 
 220(6). 
 Dress Reform (general), 43, 48 
 
 (K. I, 2), S3: JV., 197(4). 
 
 207(5). 
 Dress Reform, for men, xv-xvu, 
 
 xxii fol., 6-8, 53: N., 183(8). 
 Dress Reform, for women, 7, 8, 
 
 52-3: N., 183(6), 202(9, 10). 
 Dress Reform, More Radical 
 
 Ideas Upon, Q., 48: N-, Q-. 
 
 202(9)- 
 Drummond, William, of Haw- 
 
 thomden, 83. 
 Dryden, John, 83. . 
 
 Dublin University Magazine, The, 
 
 N., 207(5). 
 
 Duchess of Padua, The, N., 
 
 ^253(4). 
 
 Dufiferin, Lady Helen Selina, 85: 
 
 N., her lyrics, 238(53, I). 
 Du Maurier, George, N., 176(10). 
 Dunciad, Pope's, 84: t}., Q., 
 
 235(32), 236(37, 40). 
 Dusenbury, Hugo"^in Puck, 
 
 N., I77U4;- 
 
 Easter Day N., 241(2). 
 
 Eclectic Magasine, The, N., 175 
 (6) 179(29), 198(6). 
 
 i-llzabeth of Bohemia, sister of 
 Charles I, 83: AT. "The Queen 
 of Hearts" in Wotton's poem, 
 234(31) fol. 
 
 Elizabeth of England, Q., 82-3: 
 N., her scholarship, transla- 
 tions, poems, quotation from 
 her "sonnet"; her letters, 233 
 
 ^ (27) fol. 
 
 Elizabethan Age, scenery of the, 
 29. 
 
 Elpinike, 89: N., 242(5). 
 
 Emerson, N., Q., 199(12, II). 
 
 Endymion (Keats), 56 (K. 2). 
 
 Endymion, Keats', 83: AT., 222 
 (12). 
 
 England, the home of lost ideas, 
 136 (K. 4); its narrowness in 
 artistic judgment, 142; its 
 establishment of Public Opin- 
 ion, an attempt to organize the 
 ignorance of the community, 
 146 (K. 3); where it is impos- 
 sible to have a work of art 
 performed, 147. 
 
 English Illustrated Magazine, The, 
 N., 241(1). 
 
 English Poetesses, 71, 73—86: N., 
 Q., 208(9); Notes for, 229—39. 
 
 Epistle to Charles Cowden Clarke, 
 Keats', A^., Q., 226(19). 
 
 Eros, Sappho, the child of, 74. 
 
 Essays, Criticisms and Reviews, 
 N., 182(6), 229(2). See Wo- 
 man's World. 
 
 Essays in Miniature, Agnes Rep- 
 plier's, N., 176(9). 
 
 Etnics and the Arts, the relation 
 between, xxi, xxiii, xxiv, 40 
 (K. 4),48 (K. 5),io2(K. I, 3), 
 103-5, 107-10, il2-3:Ar.,246(4). 
 
 Ethics of Journalism, The, xxv, 
 ^S3< 157-60: N., Notes for, 
 265-7. 
 
 Eton, 98. 
 
 Every Day in the Year (1902), 
 edited by James L. and Mary 
 K. Ford, N., 216(28). 
 
 "Exargasia, or the Gorgeous in 
 Literature," Queen Elizabeth's 
 "most sweet and sententious 
 
278 
 
 INDEX 
 
 ditty," so termed by Putten- 
 
 ham, 82. 
 Exercise, the only possible, to 
 
 talk, not walk, 172. 
 Exodus, N., Q., 208(9). 
 Eyre, Sir Vincent, N., 211(17). 
 
 Fame and Obscurity, the differ- 
 ence between, viii. 
 Fancy Ball, as the basis of Art, 
 52, 100: N., 244(10). 
 
 Field, Kate, N., 189(8). 
 
 Fifth Avenue, New York, 3, 8. 
 
 Fisherman and His Soul, The, N., 
 Q., 212(21). 
 
 FiUnoodle in America — in Puck, 
 N.. 177(14). ., , . 
 
 Flaubert, Gustave, N., 212(19). 
 
 Fletcher, 83. , „ . 
 
 Flockton, for the part of Prince 
 Paul in yera, N., 196(2). 
 
 Florence, Italy, 13, 27, 60, 76, 
 150: N., 215(27), 230(12). 
 
 Forman, Mr. Harry Buxton, Q., 
 68: JV., Q., 205(2) fol., 220(7^, 
 222(13) fol., 224(15-7) fol.; 208 
 (10) fol., 215(25), 220(6). 
 
 Fortescue, Mrs. Marion T., W. 
 entertained by, N., 188(3). 
 
 Fortnightly Review, The, xiii: N., 
 i76C8i), 179(29), 198(6), 245(3).. 
 See also Pen, Pencil and Poi- 
 son, Poems «M Prose, Preface 
 to the Picture of Dorian 
 Gray, and Soul of Man Under 
 Soctalism. 
 
 Franzos, Berta, N., 246(6). 
 
 Freeman, Edward A., 82. 
 
 Freeman s Journal, The (Dublin), 
 W., 181(1), 202(9). 
 
 Freer, Mr. Charles L., of Detroit, 
 Mich., N., 183(9), 184(10). 
 
 French criticism, 112. 
 
 French prose, compared to Eng- 
 lish. See Prose. 
 
 French Revolution, the, 3. 
 
 French song, the graceful forms 
 of old, 80. 
 
 Frires Zemganno, Les, by Ed- 
 mond de Goncourt, 98: N., 
 244(17). 
 
 Froude, James Anthony, 81. 
 
 Fumagalfl, Mario, N., 264(4). ., 
 
 Fuseli, Henry, 94: N., his hfe, 
 and art, 243(12) fol. 
 
 Fusiyama, Mount, 44: N., 198(7). 
 
 Gainsborough, Thomas, 26. 
 
 Gamberale, L., N., 257(2). 
 
 Garden of Bros, The, Q., 56. 
 
 Garden of Florence, The, J. H. 
 Reynolds', Q., 67: N-, Q-, 222 
 (11), 224(17); 222(12), 223(14). 
 
 Gathered (Scattered) Leaflets, N., 
 
 265(2) fol. 
 Gaulke, Johannes, N., 246(3). 
 Gaulois, The, 142, 147: AT., 
 
 261(1). 
 Gay, John, N., 235(35). 
 Gazette, The Saturday Evening 
 
 (Boston), N., its attacks on W., 
 
 N., 190(10) fol. 
 Gazettes. See Pall Mail Gazette 
 
 and St. James Gazette, and 
 
 above. 
 
 Gentle Art of Making Enemies, 
 Whistler's, Q., x: JV., 198(11) 
 fol., 199(12, I, 11), 243(9); 
 175(2), 190(9), 197(1, 2), 
 198(6). See "Ten O'clock." 
 
 Gentleman's Magazine, The, N., 
 226(20). 
 
 Gibbon, Edward, Q., 85. 
 
 Gide, Andre, Q., xxix: N., Q., 
 246(6); 261(2). 
 
 Gifford, William, 85: N., Q., 
 237(44). 
 
 Gil Bias, 90. 
 
 Gilbert, William Schwenck, xv: 
 N., 176(12), 188(6). 
 
 Giorgione, Basil — in The Colonel, 
 
 ,.^■1 IZ'^P). „ , 
 Girl Graduate, her letter on 
 dress reform, N.^ 202(10). 
 Girometti's medallion of Keats, 
 
 N., 2y(2S). 
 
 Globe, The Boston Daily, N., Q., 
 189(9), 190(10); 187(2). 
 
 Glover, J. M., N., 259(11). 
 
 Goethe, Q., 102 (K. 4). 
 
 Golden Gleams of Thought 
 (1881), edited by Rev. S. P. 
 Linn, N., 216(28). 
 
 "Golden Screen, The," by Whist- 
 ler, N., 201(4). 
 
 Golden Treasury, Palgrave's, N., 
 Q-, 235(31). 
 
 Gonsowska, Hew., N., 264(4). 
 
 Goring, Lord — in An Ideal Hus- 
 band, 168. 
 
 Gosse, Edmund, 83. 
 
 Gounod, Charles, 141: N., 258(5). 
 
 Graces, the flower of the, 74. 
 
 Grande Revue, La, N., 226(18), 
 241(1), 257(2), 261(2). 
 
 Grant, General, N., 189(8). 
 
 Grave of Keats, The, N., bibl., 
 Q.i.f., 216(28) fol.; 230(8). 
 
 Grave of Shelley, The, N., Q., 
 211(19), 212(21): 241(2). 
 
 Gray, Dorian — in The Picture of 
 Dorian Gray, 108. 
 
 Gray, Dorian, The Picture of. 
 See Picture of Dorian Gray, 
 The. 
 
INDEX 
 
 279 
 
 Gray, John, 132-3: N., 255(5). 
 
 Orazebrook, Hester — ^in An Un- 
 
 , equal Match, 25—6; her dresses, 
 27; 29: N., 193(2). See Lang- 
 try and Mrs. Langtry. 
 
 Greece, Ancient, its literature, 
 art, language, dress, customs, 
 etc., 7, 12, 25-7, 30, 48 (K. I, 
 S). 49, 53. 74-6, 89, 92, 98, 100, 
 139, 147, 150: iV., 193(4, 5), 
 197(5), 202(11), 229(5, 6), 230 
 (8, 13. 17) fol., 234(27), 241 
 (2, 3) fol., 242(4-6). See Par- 
 thenon. 
 
 Greve, Felix Paul, N., 246(3). 
 
 Grierson, Constantia, 85: N., her 
 scholarship; elegant verses, 
 
 „ 239(53). „ „ 
 
 Grosvenor Gallery, 51. 
 
 Grosvenor Gallery, The, a critique, 
 JV-, 207(5). 
 
 Guido Seni, 60: N., 213(23). 
 
 Hallward, Basil — ^in The Picture 
 
 of Dorian Gray, 108. 
 Hamilton-King, Harriet E., 80: 
 
 N., her works, 231(18, II). 
 Hamlet, N., 206(3). 
 
 Hampstead, 97: N., 208(10), 
 
 215(25), 221(9). 
 Handicraftsmen, encouragement 
 
 for, xvii, 4—6, q, 13: N., 207(5). 
 Happy Prince, The, N., Q., 211 
 
 (19). 
 The Happy Prince and Other 
 
 Tales, Q., 64; x: N., 211 (ig). 
 Harper's Bazar, N., 182(7); 178 
 
 (14)- 
 Harper's Weekly, N., 182(4); 
 
 178(14), 189(9). 
 Hartford, Conn., N., 182(3). 
 Harvard students, their treatment 
 
 of W., xvi: N.. 188(7). 
 Havrtrey, Charles, N., 259(11) 
 
 fol. 
 Haydon, his pen and ink sketch of 
 
 Keats, 60: N., his life mask of 
 
 Keats, 215(25) and 219(3); 
 
 "Christ's Entry into Jerusa- 
 lem," 215(26). 
 Haywood, Eliza, 84: N., her 
 
 novels and poems; Pope's satire, 
 
 236(37)- „ 
 
 Hazlitfs lectures, Keats at, 60: 
 
 N., 225(18). 
 Hebrew literature, 139. 
 Helen of Troy, 26: N., 193(4)- 
 Hellas, Sappho, the pride of, 74. 
 Hellenism, an oasis of, a good 
 
 circus, 98, 
 Hemans, Felicia, 85: N., 239(56). 
 Herald, Chicago, N., its attack on 
 
 W., Q., 190(10). 
 
 Herald, Halifax Morning, N., Q., 
 
 , 193(4). 
 
 Herald, New York, Q., viii, xx: 
 ^-.Q-. 177(12), 242(7); 179 
 (27), 184(10), 187(2), 189(7), 
 270(7). 
 
 Herodtade, Massenet's, 141, 147: 
 AT., 258(4). 
 
 Herodotus (2 vols.), the copy 
 of, which W. used and anno- 
 tated during his course at (Ox- 
 ford, N., 216(28). 
 
 Heu _ Miserande Puer^ a sonnet, 
 Q.i.f., 61 : N., Its gradual 
 growth; subsequent appearance 
 as The Grave of Keats; col- 
 lated with same, 216(28) fol.; 
 241(2). 
 
 Hilton, William, his portraits of 
 Keats, N., 215(25). 
 
 Hitzen vase, a, 40 (K. 4). 
 
 Hokusai, N., 198(7). 
 
 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, JV., 
 
 „ 189(8). 
 
 Homer, 74. 
 
 Honour School, The, 107; N., 
 247(11). 
 
 Home, Richard Hengist, 77: N., 
 230(15-6), 247(9). 
 
 Horwood, A. J., Q., 67-8: N., Q., 
 223(14) fol.; 220(7). 
 
 Houghton, Lord (R. M. Milnes), 
 Q., 58; 66-9: N., Q., 209(13) 
 fol., 225(18); 211(18); his life, 
 221(8); MSS. of Keats. 222 
 (9); 222(10), 224(14, 17) fol. 
 
 House of Pomegranates, A (the 
 book), X, 123; Its illustrators and 
 their specific contributions, 124; 
 The Speaker's description of 
 the cover; W.'s view of its 
 artistic beauty; what it sug- 
 gests to W., 125—6: JV., Q., 
 212(21), 255(4); full text of 
 title-page; description by the 
 Chiswick Press, 253(3); 254(5). 
 
 "House of Pomegranates, A," 
 121, 123—26: N., Notes for, 
 
 Howe, Julia Ward, N., 189(8); 
 entertains W. on ^ his Boston 
 trip; defends him in print; ex- 
 tracts from her letter to Boston 
 Daily Globe; entertains W. at 
 Lawton's Valley during his July 
 visit to Newport, 189(9). 
 
 Hunt, Leigh, N., Q., 223(18); 213 
 (22), 222(^12), 
 
 Ideal Husband, An, Q., 24, 102; 
 163 :_ the critics at sea over its 
 significance; its psychological 
 
28o 
 
 INDEX 
 
 import; the bracelet incident 
 not borrowed from Sardou, 
 i68: N., W.'s presentation copy 
 to Charles Shannon, 253 (4) ; 
 the first night; bibl., 26^(2). 
 
 Illustrated London News, The, N., 
 263(3). 27o(7)- 
 
 Importance of Bemg Earnest, 
 The, Q., 102: N., W.'s presenta- 
 tion copy to "the wonderful 
 Sphinx," 212(19); its possible 
 cover designer, 253(4). 
 
 Impression de Voyage, N., 
 241(2). 
 
 Impressions, W. s several, paro- 
 died, N., 177(14). . 
 
 Impressions of America, N., Q., 
 
 , i8s(i3' ;7). 243(7)- ^ ,„ 
 
 Impressionist Pamftng, by Wyn- 
 ford Dewhurst, N., 184(10). 
 
 In a Balcony, Browning's, 130. 
 
 In Memoriam. O. W., Franz 
 Blei's, N., 175(4); translated 
 into English by Percival Pol- 
 lard, 246(6); 261(2). 
 
 Incomparable and Ingenious His- 
 tory of Mr. W. H., The, N., 
 254(5)- 
 
 "Indian Civilian, An," 119: N., 
 251(2). 
 
 Individualism, W.s ideas regard- 
 ing, xxix (K. i), 18 (K. 7), 32 
 (£ 3), 40 (K. 2, s), 48 (K. 4). 
 115, 124-5, 132-3, 136 (K. 3) 
 146 (K. i), 147, 151-2, 160, 
 162 (K. I, 3), 169—70: N., 246 
 (■4), 240(19). 
 
 Individuality and personality, the 
 chief characteristics of the mas- 
 terpieces of our literature, 80; 
 individuality, in art, 88 (K. 2, 
 5); in acting, 130— i, 169—70. 
 
 Ingelow, Jean, 80: N., her works; 
 W.'s comment on her Chess 
 King, 231(18, VI). 
 
 Intentions, xiii, xiv, xviii: N., 
 175(6), 251(3); translated into 
 French by J.— Joseph Renaud, 
 226(18), 257(2). See also The 
 Critic as Artist, Parts I and II, 
 The Deem of Lying, Pen, Pen- 
 cil, and Poison, and The Truth 
 of Masks. 
 
 Interview with Oscar Wilde 
 (New York World), Q., 32, 
 122. 
 
 Interviews, with W., Q., viii, xx, 
 xxix (K. 2), 32, 122, 138-43, 
 163—72: xxiv, XXV : N., Q., 
 198(10), 242(7) fol., 246(6); 
 176(11), 184(13), 195(1), 226 
 (18), 259(10). See Anecdotes. 
 
 Introduction to Decorative Art in 
 
 America, vii, ix— xxvii : N., Notes 
 for, 175-80, 203(12), 207(5). 
 
 Introductory Keynotes. See Key- 
 notes. 
 
 Ireland, 142, 148, 155-6: ^■> 181 
 (i), 202(9), 207(5), 216(28), 
 235(34), 238(53), 239(55), 241 
 (2), 259(9), 265(2) fol., 260 
 (S) fol. 
 
 Irish Monthly, The, N., 207(5), 
 216(28), 241(2). 
 
 Irish Winner of the Newdigate, 
 An, by the Editor of The Irish 
 Monthly, N., 241(2). 
 
 Irving, Sir Henry, 142: A^., his 
 portrait by Whistler, 201(4). 
 
 Isabella, with reference to Keats' 
 poem of that name, N., 217(28). 
 
 Isabella, Keats', iV., Q., 217(30); 
 222(12). 
 
 Isabella, Story of, Boccaccio's, 
 translated by John Payne, N., 
 Q., 217(30). 
 
 Israel, The Children of, 57. 
 
 Italia, N., 241(2). 
 
 Japan, 44, 51: N., 193(5), 198(7)- 
 
 "Japanese Girls on the Terrace," 
 by Whistler, N., 201(4). 
 
 Jewelry, modern, 13. 
 
 Joaquin Miller, the Good Samar- 
 
 , itan, XXV, 17, 19—22: N., 178 
 (19); Notes for, 187— pi. 
 
 Johnson, Hester (Swift's Stella"), 
 84: N., 237(43). 
 
 Johnson, Robert Underwood, N., 
 p., 209(12). 
 
 Johnson, Samuel, 84: N., 237(44). 
 
 Tonson, Ben, 83: iV., Q., 234(30). 
 
 Jorba, J. Perez, A^., 264(4). 
 
 Journalism, W.'s remarks on; its 
 attacks on W., viii; xv— xviii, 
 xxiv, xxv, 18 (K. 2—4), 19, 
 21—2, 81, 103—16, 118 (K. i), 
 130, 146 -(K. I, 3), 151, 154 
 (K. 1, 2), 157-60, 170: N., 177 
 (14) fol., 109(9) fol-, 190(10) 
 fol., 191(11), ig6(i), 201(2), 
 242(7) fol., 248(17) fol., 263 
 (3), 265(2) fol., 266(5) fol. 
 
 Judaa, 72 (K. 1). 
 
 Judas MaccabtBus, Rubinstein's, 
 141: N., 258(6). 
 
 Kansas City, N., 182(3). 
 
 Keats, George, 65, 60: N., his life, 
 
 219(4) fol.; 227(22).. 
 Keats, George. Memoir of, by J. 
 
 F. Clarke, iV., Q., 219(4) fol.; 
 
 220(6). 
 Keats, Mrs. George, 69: N., 
 
 219(4). 
 Keats, John, 3, 56 (K. i, 2); his 
 
INDEX 
 
 281 
 
 burial-place ; inscription on his 
 tomb; the cemetery described by 
 Lord Houghton and Shelley, 58; 
 his love of flowers, with cita- 
 tions; the nature of his tomb; 
 his medallion-profile; the beauty 
 of his countenance as repre- 
 sented by Severn and Haydon; 
 the Priest of Beauty; compared 
 to St. Sebastian, 59—60 ; W.'s 
 sonnet to him, 61; his delicate 
 sense of colour-harmonies shown 
 in the Sonnet on Blue; original 
 MS. of this in the possession of 
 Mrs. Speed, 65 ; the gradual 
 growth of this sonnet noted, 66; 
 Siis growth shown by quotation 
 i.f. and collation, 67—9; colour 
 of his eyes; his sonnet to his 
 brother, George. Q., 69; his re- 
 mark Q., with reference to 
 Katherine Philips, 83: read 
 Mrs. Tighe's Psyche with pleas- 
 ure, 85: N., his love letters to 
 Fanny Brawne published, 205(2) 
 fol. (see Forman and Colvin) ; 
 love letters sold at auction, 
 206(3); bis grave, with refer- 
 ences to illustrations and de- 
 scriptions of same, 208(10) 
 fol. ; his dying request to Sev- 
 ern, 209(11); poems in his 
 honour, 209(12); remarks of 
 Houghton and Shelley on the 
 cemetery, Q.i.f., 209—10(13—4); 
 his love of flowers, with cita- 
 tions, 210(15); The Keats-Shel- 
 ley Memorial at Rome, 210(16); 
 the committee of 1875, 211(17); 
 his many portraits; the artists 
 and articles concerning the 
 same, 214(25) fol. (see Keats, 
 pictures of) ; Haydon's life 
 mask, etc., 215(25-6); W.'s re- 
 vised sonnet to him, Q-i.f-, 
 216(28) fol.; his Isabella; its 
 source, 217(30); his resemblance 
 to certain American relatives, 
 recently living, 219(3); his re- 
 lations with his brother George, 
 219(4); his notes on Milton; 
 admiration for Dante, 220(6); 
 his Sonnet on Blue Q.i.f., from 
 the facsimile. 220(7) *ol- (see 
 Sonnet on Blue); relations with 
 Charles A. Brown, 221(9) fol.; 
 with John Hamilton Reynolds, 
 222 (12); his personal appear- 
 ance: colour of his eyes and 
 haii; 225(18) fol. (see Keats' 
 appearance) ; his relations with 
 Charles Cowden Clarke, 226(19); 
 with Joseph Severn, 226(21); 
 
 his reference to Mrs. Tighe, 
 239 ( 54) • Allusions to his 
 poems, prose, and letters, with 
 quotations, sources and biblio- 
 graphical matter, occur, N.^ 
 205—227 passim. 
 
 Keats' appearance, according to : 
 Mrs. Procter, 59-60 (Note), 69; 
 Mrs. George Keats, C. C. Clarke 
 and Severn, €>q: N., Mrs. Proc- 
 ter, C. C. Cflarke and Leigh 
 Hunt, 225(18); Severn, 226(18), 
 
 Keats, pictures of by: Severn and 
 Haydon, 60 (Note) ; Severn, 69 : 
 N., Warrington Wood, 211(17); 
 Severn , Haydon, Hilton, Giro- 
 metti; bust by Anne Whitney, 
 2 1 4-5 (25-6) ; Severn, 226 (2 1 ) . 
 
 Keats' Bndyynion. See Endymion, 
 
 Keats' Epistle to C. C. Clarke. 
 See Epistle. 
 
 Keats' Isabella. See Isabella. 
 
 (Keats) George, To my Brother, 
 Keats* Sonnet, Q., 69 : AT., 
 227(22). 
 
 Keats' Lamia. Sec Lamia, 
 
 Keats' letter, a, to James Rice 
 (Feb. 16, 1820), N., Q., 210(15). 
 
 Keats' Sonnet on Blue. See Son- 
 net on Blue. 
 
 Keats, John, Letters of, to Fanny 
 Brawne (1878), edited by H. 
 Buxton Forman, N., 205(2) fol. 
 
 Keats, John, Letters of (1891), 
 edited by Sidney Colvin, N., 
 206(2). 
 
 Keats, John, Letters of (1895), 
 edited by H. Buxton Forman, 
 N., Q., 205(2) fol., 206(3). 
 
 Keats, John, Letters and Poems of 
 (1883), edited by John Gilmer 
 Speed, N., 220(5). 
 
 Keats, John, Life, Letters and Lit- 
 erary Remains of (1848), by 
 Lord Houghton, Q., 58-9, 59-60 
 (Note). 67, 69; 66: N., Q., 
 209(13) fol., 225(18); 211(18), 
 221(8), 222(9, io)» 224(14, 17). 
 
 Keats, John, Odes Sonnets &• 
 Lyrics of, printed by the Daniel 
 Press, N., portrait in, 215(25). 
 
 Keats, John, Poetical Works and 
 Other Writings of, edited by 
 H. Buxton Forman, London, 
 1883, N., Q., 224(15, 17) fol.; 
 205(2) fol., 208(10) fol., 215 
 (25) ; Glasgow, 1901, Q., 224 
 (16); 220(6). 
 
 Keats, John, Poetry and Prose 
 by. A Book of Fresh Verses, 
 etc. (1890), edited by H. Bux- 
 ton Forman, N., Q., 220(7) , 
 214(25) fol. 
 
282 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Keats and Severn, The Graves of, 
 N., Q.. 219(3). 22S(j8) fol.; 
 218(10). 
 
 Keats in Hampstead, N., 208(10), 
 215(25)- 
 
 Keats, Last Days of, Joseph Sev- 
 
 ..ems Account of the, Q., 59: 
 N., Q., 209(11). 
 
 Keats, Life of, by Sidney Colvin, 
 N., Q., 206(2), 223(13). 
 
 Keats, Portraits of, etc., by Wil- 
 liam Sharp, N,, Q., 215(26); 
 214(25) fol. 
 
 Keats' Sonnet on Blue, 63, 65—69: 
 N., 182(3), 211(18), 215(25); 
 Notes for, 219—228. 
 
 Keats, Tomb of. See Tomb of 
 Keats. 
 
 Keats, Fragment on, Shelley's, iV., 
 Q.i.f., 209(12). See also Grave 
 of Keats, Keats' Love Letters 
 (below), and Name Writ in 
 Water. 
 
 Keats' Love Letters, On the Re- 
 cent Sale by Auction of, a son- 
 net, Q.i.f., 56: N., bibl. of 
 205(1); date and account of sale 
 by auction 206(3). See also 
 Fanny Brawne. 
 
 Keats-Kielley Memorial, the pro- 
 posed; its supporters and its 
 object, 210(16) fol. 
 
 Kelly, J. E., his etching of W., 
 N.. 181(1). 
 
 Kendall, May, 80: N., her works, 
 231(18, Vfl). 
 
 Kendrick, Charles, his caricatures 
 of W., N., 178(14). 
 
 Keynotes, Introductory, viii, xxix, 
 XXX, 2, 18, 24, 32, 40, 48, 56, 
 64, 72, 88, 102, 118, 122, 128, 
 136, 146, 150, 154, 162, 174, 272. 
 
 Kiefer, Dr., N., 264(4). 
 
 King Henry VIII, N., Q., 209(12). 
 
 King Lear, go. 
 
 Kipling, Rudyard, criticism of, 118 
 (K. 1), 119-20. 
 
 Koolapoor, The Rajah of, bust of, 
 60: N., 215(27). 
 
 Kottabos, N., 214(24), 216(28). 
 
 L. E. L. See Landon. 
 
 L. E. L., Christina Rossetti's, N., 
 
 Q; 238(50). 
 Labouchere, Henry, owner and 
 
 editor of Truth, viii. 
 Lachmann, Hedwig, N., 264(4). 
 Lady Alroy, N., 212(19). 
 Lady's Pictorial, The, N., Q., 
 
 226(18). 
 Lady Windermere's Fan, 168: N., 
 
 253(4);, burlesqued, 259(11); 
 
 first night, 269(3); b'ol. 270(6). 
 
 La Jeimesse, Ernest, N., 261(2). 
 
 Lamb, Edward, as Prince Paul in 
 Vera, N., 196(1). 
 
 Lamia, Keats', N., 223(14). 
 
 Landon, Letitia Elizabeth (L. E. 
 L.), 85: N., her verses, etc., 
 238(50). 
 
 Lang, Andrew, 81. 
 
 "Lange Leizen — of the Six Marks, 
 Die," Whistler's, N., 201(4). 
 
 Langtry, Mrs., her beauty ana- 
 lyzed, 25; the charm of her act- 
 ing, 26; her beauty as an influ- 
 ence on the art of Albert 
 Moore, Leighton, Whistler, etc.; 
 her dresses in the part of Hes- 
 ter Grazebrook, 27: N., her re- 
 marks as to the model for Bun- 
 thome in England, 177(12); her 
 American debut, 193(2); Wilde's 
 comment on her beauty, 193(4); 
 the fire which prevented her 
 debut as originally planned, 
 194(7); her trip on the Hudson, 
 242(7). 
 
 Leda^ Helen, the daughter of, 26. 
 
 Le Giallienne, Richard, N., 176(0). 
 
 Leighton, Frederick, Lord, 27: N., 
 194(6)- 
 
 Leland, Tames Godfrey, 15: iV., 
 185(15)- 
 
 L'Ermitage, N., 246(6). 
 
 Lesbos, Sappho, the singer, 75: 
 
 . N., 183(9-10) fol. 
 
 Letters, W.'s unpublished, Q., 
 xxvi, 32: N., Q., 178(15), 190 
 
 ^ (10), 195(1), 196(2); 180(41). 
 
 Lexicographer, the great, Samuel 
 Johnson, 84. 
 
 Leyland, Frederick R., patron of 
 Whistler; his **PeacocK Room," 
 N., 183(9-10) fol. 
 
 Life, N., 178(14), 270(7). 
 
 Lippincott's Magazine, 113: N., 
 
 ^ .245(3). 248(17). 
 
 Liters Humaniares, 107: N., 247 
 (11). 
 
 Literature, the rights of, 115; dif- 
 ference between it and journal- 
 ism, 154 (K. 1). 
 
 Literature and Dogma, Arnold's, 
 N., 247(8). 
 
 Literature and Painting, the rela- 
 tion between, xxi, 40 (K. 4), 
 -48 (K. 5). 
 
 Literary and Other Notes, Q., 
 136: N., Q., 229(2), 230(13), 
 231(18, Vl5, 232(18, IX, XII, 
 21), 235(35), 263(1); 182(6), 
 233(25. See asterisk), 235(32). 
 
 Literary Notes, Some, Q., 122: 
 N., Q., 231(18, Vin) fol., 
 233(24), 237(46), 254(6). 
 
INDEX 
 
 283 
 
 "Little White Girl, The," by 
 
 Whistler, N., 183(9). 
 Lives of the CtEsars, of Suetonius, 
 
 107. 
 "London Editor, A," 113— 4: N.^ 
 
 his letter, Q.i.f., 248(17) fol. 
 London Models, 87, 89—100: N.^ 
 
 Q., 201(2), 202(6, 7), 214(24); 
 
 202(8), 207(5), 217(29); Notes 
 
 for, 241—4. 
 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 
 
 N., 189(8). 
 Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and 
 
 Other Stories, N., 212(19). 
 Lord Byron and Some of his 
 
 Contemporaries , Leigh Hunt's, 
 
 N., 6.. 225(18). 
 Lord Chamberlain, the, his cen- 
 sorship of Salome, 137—143. 
 Lotus Leaves, Q., xxx. 
 Louis Quatorze furniture, the 
 
 gilded abyss of, N., 194(8). 
 Louisville, Kentucky, 65: JV., 
 
 182(3), 219(2-4)- 
 
 Madonna Mia.N., Q., 214(24). 
 Maeterlinck, Maurice, 141. 
 Magdalen College, xxx : N., 247 
 
 (II). 
 Magdalen Walks, Q., xxx. 
 Mahaffy, Professor John P., Q., 
 
 89: N., his writings, 241(2). 
 Mallarme, Stephane, N., 199(11). 
 Man and the Actor, Richard 
 
 Mansfield's, N., Q., 260(12). 
 Manette Salomon, by E. and J. de 
 
 Goncourt, 98: N., 244(16). 
 Mansfield, Richard, N., Q., 260 
 
 (12). 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 82: N., 
 
 Bueen Elizabeth's "sonnet" on, 
 ., 234(27)- .- 
 
 Massenet, Jules, 141, 147* Jv., 
 
 258(4). 
 "Matchless Orinda, The," Kath- 
 
 erine Philips, 83: N., 235(34)- 
 Maturin. Rev. Charles Robert, 
 
 N., 214(23). 
 McCIellan, General and Mrs., N., 
 
 189(8). 
 McClure, Rev. William J., N., 
 
 265(2). 
 Mediocrities, only, progress, etc., 
 
 160. 
 Melodrama, modem English, 1 28 
 
 "Melmotli, Sebastian." See *'Se- 
 
 bastian Melmoth." 
 Melmoth the Wanderer, Charles 
 
 R. Maturin's, N., 214(23). 
 Meltzer, N., 259(10). 
 Mercure de France, N., 261(2). 
 Meredith, (Jeorge, as a warning, 
 
 18: iV., his style and art, 232 
 (21) fol. 
 
 Meyerfeld, Doctor Max., N,, 
 257(2). 
 
 Meynell (Thompson), Alice, 80 : 
 N., her poems, 232(18, XI). 
 
 Michael Angelo, 13, 70. 
 
 Miller, Cincinnatus Heine (Joa- 
 quin), his letter to W., 19-20; 
 W.'s reply, 20-22: N., biog- 
 raphy of, 187(1); meets W., 
 187(3) fol.; his visits to Lon- 
 don, 188(4); 191 (Note). 
 
 Millet, Jean Francois, 26. 
 
 Milton, 6s, 84: N., 220(6). 
 
 Milton, Keats' notes on, N., 
 220(6). 
 
 Milnes, Richard Monckton. See 
 Houghton. 
 
 Milwaukee, Wisconsin, TV"., 182(3). 
 
 Mimes, Marcel Schwob's, N., 
 presentation copy to W., 258(8). 
 
 Miners, Western, dress of, 8 
 fol.: N., W. caricatured in the 
 dress of, 182(7) fol-I W. adopts 
 their head-gear, 183(8). 
 
 Miranda — in The Tempest, 132. 
 
 Mirandola, 150. 
 
 Mission of Art in the Nineteenth 
 Century, The, 65. 
 
 Mitylene, N., 2^^(28), 230(8). 
 
 Models, professional, 51—2; a 
 modern invention, 89; none in 
 America; Italian the best; the 
 Firencn possess quickness of in- 
 tellectual sympathy; the Eng- 
 lish form a class by themselves; 
 are without tradition, 90; usu- 
 ally lack interest in art, 91; will 
 pose for anything; intellectually 
 Philistines, 92 ; their habits ; 
 their tariff, 93; their dull sea- 
 son; the veteran of grand style, 
 94; the Academy model, the 
 "apotheosis of anatomy": the 
 Oriental models, who have lovely 
 costumes; the Italian youth; the 
 English lad, who never sits at 
 all, 95; street gamins who ob- 
 ject to posing; privileges of the 
 English, 96; influence or the 
 English school of painting; 
 cause of artificiality in modern 
 art; their advantages and disad- 
 vantages, 99; should be painted 
 as of the modern age, or not 
 at all, 100: N., 202(6, 7). 
 
 Modern Actor, The, John Gray's 
 lecture, 132. 
 
 Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, 84: 
 N., her verses, letter^, etc., 
 236(39). 
 
 Monte Testaccio, 60: N., 212(20). 
 
284 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Moore Albert, 27, 48 (K. s): N., 
 his art, 193(5)- 
 
 Morality, an attitude, 102 (K. 2); 
 the social code of, 166 fol. 
 
 More, Hannah, 85: N., her plays 
 and verses; reference to W.'s 
 review, 237(46). 
 
 Morpeth, Mary, 83. 
 
 Morris, Clara, Miss, N., 189(8); 
 W/s two letters to Carte, as 
 regards her taking the part of 
 Vera, 196(2). 
 
 Morris, William, N., 207 (Re- 
 mark). 
 
 Morrison, Lewis, as the Czare- 
 vitch in Vera, N., 196(1). 
 
 Morse, W. F., N., sometime man- 
 ager of W.'s lecture tour in 
 America; W.'s letter to him 
 from Omaha, 190(10); from 
 Boston; his suggestion to W. 
 as to copyright of Vera, 195(1). 
 
 Mr. Kiphng and the Anglo-In- 
 dians, 117, 119—20: N., Notes 
 for, 251. 
 
 Mr. Pater's Last Volume, Q., xii, 
 174: N., Q., 232(19-20), 233 
 (23); 176(7). 
 
 Mr. Whistler's "Ten O'Clock," 
 39, 41-46: N., 175(2), 179(31- 
 3), 180(36); Notes for, 197—200. 
 
 Mrs. Grundy, that amusing old 
 lady, 103. 
 
 Mrs. Langtry as Hester Grose- 
 brook, 23, 25—30: N., 180(40); 
 Notes for, 193—4. 
 
 Mrs. Langtry on the Hudson, N., 
 242(7). 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing, 108. 
 
 Mulock, Dinah Maria, 80: N., her 
 poems; reference to W.'s re- 
 view, 232(18, X). 
 
 Munkittrick, Mr. R. *K., his paro- 
 dies of W.'s Impressions, N., 
 177(14). 
 
 Muses, the, 72 (K. 3), 74, 79, 
 130. 
 
 Museums, xvii, 9, 11. 
 
 Name Writ in Water, The, R. U. 
 
 Johnson's, N., Q., 209(12). 
 Narcissus, 22: N., 191(11), 177 
 
 (14). 
 Narcissus in Camden. A Classical 
 
 Dialogue, Helen G. Cone's, N., 
 
 177(14). 
 Nast, Thomas, N., 178(14); his 
 
 caricatures of W., 182(4, 7) 
 
 fol. 
 Nation, The (New York), N., 
 
 181(2). 
 Neologisms, W.'s aversion to, 114: 
 
 iV., 249(18). 
 
 Nesbit (Bland), Edith, 80: N., 
 her works; W.'s review of 
 Leaves of Life, 231(18, VIII) 
 fol. 
 
 Newcastle, Margaret, Duchess of, 
 83: N., her writings; Pope's 
 comment, 23^(32). 
 
 Newdigate Prize, The, Oxford, 
 N., 217(29), 247(11). 
 
 New Haven, Ct., .iV., 182(3). 
 
 New Orleans Morning Star, N., 
 266(2). 
 
 Newport, Rhode Island, iV., 183 
 (8) ; W. lectures at Casino; 
 visits Mrs. Howe; receives 
 many courtesies, 189(9). 
 
 Niagara, 90: N., W.'s several 
 comments on same, 242(7) fol. 
 
 Nightingale and the Rose, The, 
 Q.,- 64. 
 
 Nile, the glories of .old, 60. 
 
 Nincompoopiana, xiv: N., 1^6(10)- 
 
 Nineteenth Century, The, xiii, 119: 
 N., 175(3, 6,7), 179(28), 229(4), 
 251(3). See also The Critic, as 
 Artist, Parts I and //, the De- 
 cay of Lying, Shakespeare and 
 Stage Costume, The True Func- 
 tion and Value of Criticism, and 
 The Truth of Masks. 
 
 Nocturnal Reverie, The Countess 
 of Winchilsea's, 83; Words- 
 worth's remark, 83—4; W.'s ob- 
 jection, N., 235(35). 
 
 Norman, Henry, N., 263(3). 
 
 Norton, Hon. Caroline Elizabeth, 
 85: N., her poems, 238(53, II). 
 
 Note on Some Modern Poets, A, 
 Q., 72, 118: N., Q., 231(18, V); 
 232(18, X). 
 
 Obelisks, Egyptian, at Rome^ 57: 
 
 . N., their names; their positions 
 defined, 208(8). 
 
 O'Connor, Mr. T. P., 157-60. 
 
 Ode to Solitude, Mrs. Chapone's, 
 85. 
 
 Ode to the Snowdrop, Mrs. Mary 
 Robinson's, 85: Jv., 239(57). 
 
 Ode to the West Wind, Shdley's, 
 N., 212(21). 
 
 Odysseus, 150. 
 
 Omaha, Nebraska, N., 181(1), 182 
 
 „ (3), ipo(io). ^ , „ , 
 
 Opera Comique, London, N., 176 
 (12). 
 
 Ophelia, iV., 206(3). 
 
 Oregon, 19: N., 187(1). 
 
 O'Reilly, John Boyle, N., 189(8). 
 
 Orient^ism, its rejection of real- 
 ism in art, 2 (K. 2). 
 
 Oroonoko, Aphra Behn's, Swin- 
 burne's remark on, N., 235(33). 
 
INDEX 
 
 28s 
 
 Oscar Wilde. See Wilde. 
 
 "OWr", New York World's de- 
 nature for its parodies of W. s 
 poems, N., 177(14)- 
 
 Oxford, 83, 98, 107. 130: JV., 
 197C2), 215(25), 216(28), 217 
 (29), 247(11), 268(3). See Mag- 
 
 , dalen. 
 
 Painter, the, his choice of sub- 
 jects, 139. See under Art. 
 
 Painter, To the, W.'s reply to 
 Whistler, N., 199(12, II). 
 
 Painters ana Famting, Cyclopedia 
 of, edited by J. D. Champlin, 
 Jr., N., Q., 243(12) fol. 
 
 Painting, The History of Modern, 
 by Richard Mather, N., Q., 
 193(5); 184C10),. 194(6). 
 
 Pall Mall Budget, 157-60: N., 
 182(6), 183(8). 184(10), 197 
 (1), 201(1), 257(1), 265(1), 
 266(4, 5) fol. 
 
 Pall Mall Gaeette, 157-60: N., 
 182(6), 183(8), 197(1, 4), 201 
 (i), 202(10), 257(1), 265(1), 
 266(4, S) fol- 
 
 Falmer, Albert M., the theatre 
 manager, N., 195(1). 
 
 Pan, Goat-foot, 150. 
 
 Pantechnicon, 53. 
 
 Paradise Lost, Milton's, 84: N., 
 220(6). 
 
 Paris, 112, 123, 126, 131, 137—8, 
 141— 3, 147, 151 icA.: N„ 182(2), 
 211(19), 230(14), 245(3), 247 
 (10), 257(2), 261(1, 2), 269(5), 
 270(6). See Davray Gide, La 
 Jeunesse, Renaud, Sardou, 
 Schwab, etc. 
 
 Paris, the Abode of Artists, xxv, 
 145, 147-8: N., 259(9); Notes 
 for, 261. 
 
 Parma, 10: N., 184(11). 
 
 Parodies, of Wl's poems, xv: N., 
 176(10)', 177(14) fol. 
 
 Parody, W.'s remark on, JV., Q., 
 
 ^'^?('S). ^ -, 
 
 Parthenon, the, 22, 25, 45, 53= N., 
 198(7), 241(3). 
 
 Pater, Walter, his prose, as form, 
 81 : N., as music; as mosaic, 
 232(20). 
 
 Pater's Last Volume, Mr. See 
 Mr. Pater, etc. 
 
 Patience, W. S. Gilbert's, xv: N., 
 176(12) fol., 188(7). . „ 
 
 Paul, John, Q., xvii; xvi: JV., 
 178(20). 
 
 Pavia, Isidore Leo, JV., 264(4). 
 
 "Peacock Room," Whistler's, 10: 
 JV., described; formerly in the 
 house of F. R. Leyland; now in 
 
 house of C. L. Freer, Detroit; 
 references to accounts and illus- 
 trations of same, 183(9, 10) 
 fol. 
 
 Peekskill, N. Y., JV., 189(8). 
 
 Pembroke, Mary Herbert, Countess 
 of, 82: JV., her works 234(28). 
 
 Pen, Pencil, and Poison, Q., 88: 
 JV., Q., 244(12). 
 
 Pennington, Arthur, JV., illustrator 
 of London Models; his portrait 
 of Wilde, 241(1). 
 
 People I Have Met, by Mary 
 Watson, N., 184(13). 
 
 People's Library, (Jgilvie's, JV., 
 182(2, II). 
 
 "Perdita," Mrs. Mary Robinson, 
 85: JV., 239(57). 
 
 Perikles, 89. 
 
 Petronius Arbiter, 106—7: JV., 247 
 (10). 
 
 Pfeiffer, Emily Jane, 80: JV., her 
 works, 231(18, I). 
 
 Phedre, Racine's, JV., 263(1). 
 
 Phedre, a sonnet, N., 263(1). See 
 also Sonnet to Sarah Bernhardt, 
 and same in Index. 
 
 Pheidias, 89: N., his art and 
 fame, 241 (3) fol. 
 
 Philadelphia, Penn., 15: JV., 182 
 (3), 185(14, IS). 
 
 Philaster, Beaumont and Fletch- 
 er's, JV., Q., 209(12). 
 
 Philips, Katherine, 83: JV., her 
 verses; a play, 235(34). 
 
 Phrases and Philosophies for the 
 use of the Young, Q., 24, 102, 
 272. 
 
 Phrases, catch, used by W., xii, 
 14-5, 20, 22, 25, 36, 45, 50, 52, 
 54, 57, 6o-i, 72 (K. 3), 74, 80-1, 
 91, 95, 100, 108, 115, 131, 142, 
 148, 170: N., 175(7) fol-. 184, 
 (12-3) fol-, 185(17), 188(6), 191 
 (11), 193(3. 4). 198(9. 10), 
 201(2, 3), 202(6, 7), 203(13), 
 208(9), 211(19) fol., 212(21), 
 214(24), 216(28), 217(29), 232 
 (20-1), 233(24), 243(7, 8, lo-i), 
 244(13, 18-Q), 246(4), 247(12) 
 fol., 248(13), 249(13), 255(4), 
 269(4), 270(9). See Parthe- 
 non. 
 
 Piacenza, Donna Giovanna, Ab- 
 bess of San Paolo, JV., 184(11). 
 
 Piazza di Spagna, 51: JV., 209 
 (12), 226(21). 
 
 Picture of Dorian Gray, The, Q., 
 24, 146 103, 105; its chief per- 
 sonages are puppies- peculiar- 
 ities of syntax; erudition, 106; 
 its characters non-existent; its 
 moral, 107-8; the moral the only 
 
286 
 
 INDEX 
 
 error in the book, 109; too 
 crowded with sensational detail; 
 too paradoxical in style — these, 
 its two great defects iii; its 
 publishers, 113; the story an 
 interesting problem, not a 
 "novelette," 114; 11 5-6: N., 
 W.'s other replies to his critics, 
 245(1); bibl., in English, 245 
 (3) fol.; in French, German, 
 Italian and Swedish, 246(3); 
 the novel, the result of a wager, 
 246(6); its advertisement by 
 Messrs. Ward & Lock; "Lon- 
 don Editor's" comment, 248(17) 
 fol. 
 
 Picture of Dorian Gray^ The, 
 Preface to, Q., xii, xviii, 102, 
 125, 128, 162: N., 176(8), 
 178(23); sometimes termed The 
 Credo or The Dogmas, 245(3). 
 
 Pilot, Boston. N., 266(2). 
 
 Plagiarism, the accusation of, as 
 regards The Shamrock, 157; 
 explanation of the assistant ed- 
 itor of The Weekly Sun, 158—9: 
 N., 265(1, 2) fol., 266(3-5). 
 
 Plato, 72 (K. I, 2), 77. 
 
 Play, a, its actable value nothing 
 to do with its value as a work 
 of art, 129; its spectator in need 
 of a most perfect mood of re- 
 ceptivity, 136 (K. 2); its rela- 
 tion to the stage purely acci- 
 dental, 171. 
 
 Playgoers' Club, 129. 
 
 Poe, Edgar Allan, 45: }f., ip8(ii). 
 
 Poems in Prose (The Artist), Q., 
 S6. 
 
 Poet, the, as a spectator of all 
 time and all existence, 72 
 (K. i). 
 
 Poet and the Puppets, The, a 
 travesty by Charles Brookfield, 
 143: Jv., 2Sp(ii) fol. 
 
 Poetry, English, its menace, 72 
 (K. 4). 
 
 Poetry, the joy of, 56 (K. 3), 64 
 (K. 2, 3); its field, 140; the 
 source of bad poetry, 154 
 
 „ (K. 3). 
 
 Poets and the Poetry of the Cen- 
 tury, The, edited by Alfred H. 
 Miles, N., 205(1). 
 
 Poets and Puppets — and Censors, 
 N., 255(2), 258(3). 
 
 Poets Praise, The (1894), col- 
 lected by Estelle Davenport 
 Adams, N., 216(28). 
 
 Polygnotus, 89: N., his life and 
 art, 242(4). 
 
 Pope, Alexander, 84, 86: N., Q., 
 235(32, 35). 236(37. 40). 
 
 Porta San Paolo, 57: N., 207(6). 
 Post, The Washington, N., 190 
 
 (10) fol. 
 "Postlethwaite, Jellaby," xiv: N., 
 
 176(10). 
 Pre-Raphaelites, the school of the, 
 
 3, 27, 48 (K. 5). 
 Prescott, Marie, W . s expressed 
 
 confidence in her acting, 33; 
 
 34—7 passim: N., purchases 
 
 Vera, 195(1); her losses; her 
 
 letter of protest published in 
 
 two New York papers; acts in 
 
 the title-role, 196(1). 
 Pretextes, Andre (Side's, Q., xxix: 
 ..N., Q., 246(6); 261(2). See 
 
 In Memoriam. 
 Primrose, Diana, 83. 
 Prince Regent (George IV), 85: 
 
 N., 230(57). 
 Princes Hall, 41. 
 "Princesse du Pays de la Porce- 
 
 laine. La," Whistler's, N., 183 
 
 (o), 184(10), 201(4). 
 Probyn, May, 80: N., her works; 
 
 W.'s opinioia of her art, 232 
 
 (18, 1x5. 
 
 Processo e I'estetica di Oscar 
 Wilde, II, by L. (Jamberale, N., 
 Q., 257(2). 
 
 Procter, Mrs., on Keats, Q., 59-60 
 (Note), 69: N., Q., 225(18); 
 212(19). 
 
 Prose, English, compared with 
 French; its few masters; a field 
 for women, 81; hope that they 
 will apply themselves to it more 
 than to poetry, 86; the im- 
 portance of artistic effect, 106: 
 N,, criticisms of the work of 
 certain masters, mostly con- 
 temporary, 232(19-21) fol., 233 
 (22—3) : woman's unstudied fe- 
 licity of phrase, 233(24). 
 
 Protestant Cemetery, the Old, at 
 Rome, 58: N., 208(10), 209 
 (13) fol., 210(16) fol., 227(21). 
 
 Protestant Cemetery, the New, at 
 Rome, N., 208(10), 213(22). 
 
 Psyche, Mrs. Tighe's, 85: N., 239 
 (54). 
 
 Public Industrial Art School, The, 
 Philadelphia, 15, N., 185(14). 
 
 Puck, 54. 
 
 Puck, its cartoons and parodies 
 of W., xv: N., 177(14). 
 
 Punch, xiv: JV., 176(10), 177(13), 
 
 „ 259(9), 270(7). 
 
 Puppet and Playwright, N., 255(2). 
 
 Pupj)ets, the stage a frame fur- 
 nished with a set of, 129; living 
 actors or moving, 130; the 
 advantages in, 131: N., 25s(4)- 
 
INDEX 
 
 287 
 
 Puppets and Actors, N., 255(1), 
 
 258(3). 
 Puttenham, George, Q., 82: N., 
 
 Q., 234(27) fol. 
 Pyramid of Cestius, the, 57-9: N., 
 
 20:7(6, 7) fol., 211(19). 
 Pythia, the, 79: N., 231(17). 
 
 Queen, The Lady's Newspaper, N., 
 229(1). 
 
 Racine, Jean, 147 fol.: JV., 261(5), 
 263(1). 
 
 Racine, Wisconsin, N., 182(3). 
 
 Radeliffe, Ann, 85: N., her 
 novels, AT., 268(51). 
 
 Ravenna, N., Q., 217(29); 241(2), 
 247(11). 
 
 Reading Goal, N., 212(19), 213 
 (23) fol. See Ballad. 
 
 Realism, detrimental to art in lit- 
 erature, 102 (K. 6), 108; its 
 danger, 118 (K. 2); the sign 
 of an unimaginative mind, 167: 
 N., 247(12) fol.; as a method, a 
 failure, 248(13). 
 
 Realism in Painting and in 
 Drama, N., 194(10). 
 
 Recollections of Writers by 
 Charles and Mary Cowden 
 Clarke, Q., 69: N., Q., 225(18); 
 226(19, 20). 
 
 Reinach, Edwige, N., 264(^). 
 
 Reine de Saba, La, by Gounod, 
 141: N., 258(5). 
 
 Relation of Dress to Art, The, Q., 
 xxiii; 47, 49-54: N., Q., 243(8, 
 11), 244(18—9); Notes for, 
 201-3; 179(31-2), 180(37), 244 
 (15). 
 
 Relation of the Actor to the Play, 
 The, xxiv, 127, 129—33: N., 
 Notes for, 255; 260(12). 
 
 Religion, as a subject for dra- 
 matic treatment, 138, 140-1, 
 147-8. 
 
 Rembrandt, 49. 
 
 Remus, the sepulchre, 57. 
 
 Renaissance, The English, Lec- 
 ture on, Q., xxii, 2, 18, 32, 40, 
 64, 72, 136; New York Suns 
 comment, xv; "Ruskin and 
 Water," xvi; 3: N., Q., 182(5), 
 184(12), 188(6); 179(32); first 
 delivery of the lecture; bibl. 
 of same, 181(2) fol.; the West- 
 em tour, 182(3); at Rochester, 
 187(2); at St. Louis, 188(5); 
 at Boston, 188(7); at Brooklyn, 
 189(7); 207(5). 
 
 Renan, Joseph E., 115. 
 
 Renaud, J.-Joseph, N., Q., 226 
 (18), 241(1), 257(2), 261(2). 
 
 Repplier, Agnes, N., 176(0). 
 
 Republican, The Springfield, N., 
 Its editoriars on W., 191(10). 
 
 Restoration, the, 83. 
 
 Reynolds, John Hamilton, Q., 67: 
 N., Q., 222(11), 224(17); his 
 life and relations to Keats, 222 
 (12); 223(14). 
 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, Q., 49; 26. 
 
 Revista d'ltalia, N., 257(2). 
 
 Rheiniseh-Westfdlischen Zeitung, 
 N., 246(6). 
 
 Rhyme, as a spiritual element, 72 
 
 „.(K. 3). 
 
 Ricketts, CharleSf 124: N., 205 
 (1), 211(19); an illustrator of 
 A House of Pomegranates J 
 ^53(3); his connection with the 
 Vale Press; illustrator and 
 cover designer of several of 
 W.'s books, 254(5). 
 
 Rise of Historical Criticism, The. 
 N., 246(4). 
 
 Robert Elsmere^ Mrs. Humphry 
 Ward's, N., 247(8). 
 
 Robertson, Johnson Forbes, for 
 the part of Czarevitch in Vera, 
 N., 196(2). 
 
 Robinson, Mary. See Darmesteter. 
 
 Robinson, Mrs. Mary ("Perdita"), 
 85: N., 239(57). 
 
 Rochester, New York, 19: N., 
 182(3), 187(2), 188(7). 
 
 Rodd, Sir Rennell, A"., 179(30), 
 210(16). 
 
 Rodoshevski, Baroness, translator 
 of SalomS N., 264(4). 
 
 Rodriguez, B., N., 264(4). 
 
 Rome, 57—61 passim., 74, 79: N., 
 207(6, 7) fol., 208(8, 10), 209 
 (i2-»-3) fol., 210(16), 211(17, 
 19), 212(20—1), 213(22), 216 
 (28) fol., 226(21) fol., 241(2). 
 
 Rome Unvisited, N., 241(2). 
 
 Roosevelt, President Theodore, 
 N., 210(16). 
 
 Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf, Ren- 
 nell Rodd*s, described, N., 179 
 (30). , ^ 
 
 Rose Leaf and Apple Leaf: L'En- 
 voij Q., xxi, 40, 48, 64, 88: N., 
 "Privately Printed'*; reprinted 
 by Thomas B. Mosher, 179(30), 
 182(2, IV); 207(5). 
 
 Ross, Robert, N., W.'s letters to, 
 Q., 212(10), 214(23); repu- 
 diates translation of The Satyr- 
 icon, 247(10); W.'s letter to 
 him as regards Salome, 257(2). 
 
 Rossetti, Christina, considered by 
 Swinburne to be the peer of 
 E. B. Browning, with her New 
 Year hjTnn by far the noblest 
 
288 
 
 INDEX 
 
 of sacred poems in our Ian- , 
 guage; her subtle choice of 
 words, rich imagery, etc., ad- » 
 mitted by W. ; her position, 
 however, merely that of a very 
 delightful artist in poetry, 73; 
 lacking a music sufficiently pas- 
 sionate and profound, etc., 74: 
 N., Swinburne on The Advent^ 
 229(3); Swinburne's dedica- 
 tions and elegy, 229(4); her 
 poem on L. E. L., p., 238(50). 
 
 Rossetti, Dante Gabriel, Q., 80; 
 142. 170: N., Q., 229(3); 214 
 (23). 
 
 Royal College of Music, the, 123. 
 
 Rubens, N.^ 194(10). 
 
 Rubinstein, Anton, 141 : N., 
 258(6). 
 
 Rudyard Kipling and the Anglo- 
 Indians, 117, 119-20: N.J Notes 
 for, 251. 
 
 Ruskin, John, xxi; his style, 81: 
 N., his eloquence, 233(23). 
 
 Russell, Lady Rachel, 84: N., 
 her letters, 236 iz^) ■ 
 
 Russia, Nihilistic, 34. 
 
 Saint-Saens, Camille, 147: N.^ 
 261(3). 
 
 Sallust (De Catalinae Conjura- 
 tione et de Bella Jugurthino") , 
 the copy of, which W. used and 
 annotated on interleaves, dur- 
 ing his course at Oxford, N., 
 216(28). 
 
 Salome — the play — in French, its 
 presentation prohibited in Lon- 
 don, 1 37 ; Sarah Bernhardt 
 charmed by it, 138; not written 
 for her ; in manuscript six 
 months before she saw it; every 
 rehearsal a source of pleasure to 
 W., 139; its suppression an in- 
 sult to the stage, 140J Sarah 
 Bernhardt on having it read, 
 immediately decided on the 
 title-role, 142; in rehearsal for 
 three weeks; costumes and 
 everj^hing prepared; decision to 
 have premiere in Paris, 143; 
 147; W. looks forward to Paris 
 production, 151: N., the Paris 
 premiere delayed; finally pro- 
 duced; its furore in Germany; 
 Production in Italy; privately in 
 lOndon; semi-privately in New 
 York, 257(2) fol.; used as 
 libretto oy Richard Strauss, 
 264(4). See also below. 
 
 Salom& — the book — in French, Q., 
 24; W.'s intention to publish, 
 140; how it came to be written 
 
 in French; W.'s desire to touch 
 a new instrument (the French 
 language) ; written in Paris some 
 six months before intended pro- 
 duction, 141; reviewed in The 
 Times ( Lon don ) , 151; was in 
 no sense written for Sarah 
 Bernhardt, 152: N., E. Gomez 
 Carrillo's statement that it was 
 written for Sarah Bernhardt, 
 259(10); reference to reviews 
 in The Times; also by Henry 
 Norman and Lord Alfred Doug- 
 las^ 263(3); first edition: the 
 editions of Douglas' translation 
 into English, 263(4); the three 
 German translations; the Swed- 
 ish, Spanish, Polish, Russian, 
 and Italian translations, 264(4); 
 new editions announced, 264 
 (Note). 
 
 Salome, dancing, iz9'N., 259(10). 
 
 SalomS, illustrations for, N,, 
 Beardsley, 263 (4) ; Marcus 
 Behmer, L. Valera, and in the 
 Polish edition, 264(4). 
 
 "Salome,, de Wilde, El Origen de 
 la, by E. Gomez Carrillo, N., 
 Q., 259(10). 
 
 Salon, Paris, the, N.j 184(10). 
 
 Salvator Rosa, N., 194(10), 238 
 
 (sO- 
 
 Samson et Dalila, Saint-Saens', 
 147: N., 261(3). 
 
 San Francisco, California, 14: N,, 
 182(3), 184(13) fol., 264(4). 
 
 San Miniato, N., 241(2). 
 
 San Paolo, Camera di, at Parma, 
 its decorations, a history and 
 description of, N., 184(11). 
 
 Sappho, to the antique world a 
 pillar of flame, to us a pillar of 
 shadow; "The Poetess," 74; 
 more flawless an artist than 
 Mrs. Browning; never had 
 Love such a singer, 75; 85: N., 
 208(9), 217(28), 229(5) ; ^^r 
 works, 229(6); her native 
 home, 230(8). 
 
 Sarah Bernhardt and SalomS, 149, 
 151—2: N., Notes for 263—4. 
 
 Sardou, Victorien, 141, 169: N., 
 258(7), 270(8). 
 
 Satire, on Wilde, xiv, xv: N., 
 176(10, 12), 177(13-4) fol., 
 182(4, 7) fol., 188(6), 190(10) 
 fol., 191(11), 258(9) foL, 259 
 (11) fol. 
 
 Satire, W.'s remarks on, 18 (K. 
 1): N., 188(6). 
 
 Saturday Review, The, xxvii: N., 
 180(42), 255(2), 2S8(3)» 260 
 (11), 270(7). 
 
INDEX 
 
 289 
 
 Satyricon, The, of Petronius, 107: 
 N.J a translation attributed to 
 W. : repudiated by Ross, 247 
 (10). 
 
 Saunders' Irish Daily News, N., 
 
 „ 207(5). . 
 
 Scene-painting and stage proper- 
 ties, modem, 28-9: N., 194(8- 
 10). 
 
 Schwob, Marcel, N., his assistance 
 to Wilde in Salome, 257(2); 
 his works, 258 (8'>. See also 
 Mimes, 
 
 Scots Observer, The, N., 245(1). 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter, Q.. 84: N., 
 
 „ Q; 237(47); 238(49). . 
 
 Sculptor, his choice of subjects, 
 139 fol. 
 
 Sculpture, modern, 6, 7, 12, 
 
 Seaside Library, Munro's, N., 
 181(2, I). 
 
 Seasons, Thomson's, 84. 
 
 "Sebastian Melmoth" (Oscar 
 Wilde), N., theory as to the 
 origin of his nom de plume, 
 213(23) fol.; afiixed to an Eng- 
 lish translation of The Satyri- 
 con, issued in Paris, 247(10). 
 See The Satyricon. 
 
 Self-Reliance, Essay on, Emer- 
 son's, N., Q., 199(12, II). 
 
 Severn, Joseph, Q., 58-9; 60, 69: 
 N., Q., 209(11), 210(13), 225 
 (18) fol.; his grave, 208(10); 
 215(25), 222(0); his life: his 
 friendship for Keats, 226(21) fol. 
 
 Severn's Account of the Last Days 
 of Keats. See Keats. 
 
 Severn's Portraits of Keats, 60, 
 69: JV., 215(25), 226(21). 
 
 Sevigne, Mme. de, N., 233(24). 
 
 Seward, Anna, 85: N.. her elegiac 
 verses, etc.; poems edited by 
 Scott, 238(49). 
 
 Shakespeare, 58, 76, 85, 90-1, 98- 
 9, 108, 132: N^ Q., 209(12); 
 206(3), 255(3). 
 
 Shakespeare and Stage Costume, 
 !f; 175(3)- See also The Truth 
 of Masks. 
 
 Shamrock, The, by Helena Cal- 
 lanan, Q.i.f., 155-6; xxv, 157, 
 159-60: N., its author, history 
 etc., 265(2) fol.; 266(5) fol. 
 
 Shannon, Charles, 124: JV., as 
 illustrator, 253(3); as coverde- 
 signer of several of W. s books, 
 253(4). See also An Ideal 
 Husband. , ^ 
 
 Sharp, William, N., Q., 215(26); 
 214(25) fol. 
 
 Sharp, Mrs. William, N., 233(25)- 
 
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe, Q., 40 (K. 
 
 i), 58 fol.; his heart said to be 
 buried in the Protestant ceme- 
 tery, 60; 129: N., 208(10); his 
 
 . Fragment on Keats, Q.i.f., 209 
 (12); Q., 210(13-4): the pro- 
 posed memorial, 210(16); W.'s 
 sonnet on his grave, Q., 211 
 (19), 212(21); his death by 
 drowning, 212(22); his crema- 
 tion ;_ his heart — where buried? 
 inscription on his tomb, 213(22). 
 
 Shelley's Adonais. See Adonais. 
 
 Shelley's Cenci. See Cenci. 
 
 Shelley's Fragment on Keats. See 
 Keats. 
 
 Shelley, Percy Bysshe, Poetical 
 Works of, edited by H. Buxton 
 Forman, N., 213(22). 
 
 Shelley, Recollections of, Tre- 
 lawny's, N., Q., 213(22). 
 
 Shelley, Life of, by John Adding- 
 ton Symonds, A^^ Q., 213(22). 
 
 Sherard, Robert Harborough, N., 
 Q., 216(28), 249(18), 257(2), 
 258(8), 261(2). 
 
 Sherwood, Mrs. Robert H., JV., 
 189(8). 
 
 Sibyl, 78—9. 
 
 Sidney Freeman, The, N., 266(2). 
 
 Sidney, Sir Philip, 82: N., 234 
 (28, 30). 
 
 Singer, Mr. H. W., Q., xxii fol.; 
 xxiii: JV., 179(34), 184(10). 
 
 Silverpoints, John Gray's, JV., 
 
 „. 255(5);, , , 
 
 Sistme Chapel, the, 79. 
 
 Sketch, JV., 269(1). 
 
 Smithers, Leonard, W.'s letter to, 
 Q., xxvi: JV., 180(41). 
 
 Sonnet on Approaching Italy, JV., 
 241(2). 
 
 Sonnet on Blue, Keats', Q., by W. 
 in a lecture at Louisville, 63; 
 
 S'ven to W. by Mrs. Speed m 
 S.; an example of gradual 
 fowth, 66; Q.i.f., from Lord 
 oughton's version; text col- 
 lated with Mr. Horwood's ver- 
 sion in The Athenceum, 67; 
 H. B. Forman's comment on 
 the latter; W.'s doubt as 
 to genuineness of sixth line 
 of that version; he calls his 
 own MS. the first draft, 67-9: 
 N., facsimile reproduction in 
 The Hobby Horse; Forman's 
 comment^ facsimile, Q.i.f., with 
 all variations, 220(7) fol.; A. J. 
 Horwood's version; his article 
 and sonnet, Q.i.f., 223(14) fol.; 
 Forman's remarks on both ver- 
 sions, 224(15-6); Forman's 
 punctuation of the sonnet, 224 
 
290 
 
 INDEX 
 
 (17); Forman's reading col- 
 lated with both Houghton and 
 Horwood texts in capitalization 
 and punctuation; remark on 
 further variants, 225(17). 
 
 Sonnet on Dark Eyes, J. H. Rey- 
 nolds', last two lines of, Q., 67: 
 N., sestet, Q., 222(11); Q., 
 224(17); 223(14). 
 
 Sonnet Written in Holy Week at 
 Genoa, N., 241(2). 
 
 Sonnets from the Portuguese, E. 
 B. Browning's, 73: N., 230(10). 
 
 Sotheby, Messrs., the London 
 auctioneers, N., 206(3). 
 
 Soul of Man Under Socialism, 
 The, Q., XX, xxiii, xxix, 2, 18, 
 48, 136, 146, 154, 162: N., Q., 
 201(2), 233(21), 249(19); 179 
 (29, 32), 180(39). ^, 
 
 South Kensington Museum, The, 9. 
 
 Spain, 34. 
 
 Speaker, The, Q., 124-5; 123: N., 
 176(7. 9). 253(1. 2). 254(7)- 
 See A Chinese Sage, A House 
 
 , of Pomegranates," and Mr. Pa- 
 ter's Last Volume. 
 
 Spectator, The, N., 258(9) foL, 
 260(11). 
 
 Speed, Mrs. Emma Keats, 65-6: 
 N., her resemblance to Keats, 
 219(3). See also Sonnet on 
 Blue. 
 
 Speed, Mr. John Gilmer, N., 
 22o(s). 
 
 Spenser, 58: N., 234(28-9). 
 
 Sphinx, the, 60: N., its fascina- 
 tion for Wilde; his many refer- 
 ences to it, 211(19) fol. 
 
 Sphinx, The, Q., with remarks as 
 to publication, 211(19); illus- 
 trated by Charles Ricketts, 
 254(5); dedicated to Marcel 
 Schwob, 258(8). 
 
 Sphinx Without a Secret, The, N., 
 212(19). See Lady Alroy. 
 
 Spirit Lamp, The, edited by Lord 
 Alfred Douglas, N., 263(3). 
 
 Springfield, Mass., N., igi(io). 
 
 St. James Gazette, The, Q., 
 104-7, iio-S; 103: N., Q., 248 
 (17); 245(1, 2), 246(7), 248 
 (14, 16-7). 
 
 St. John, the Baptist, 140. 
 
 St. John, N., Q., 206(4) fol. 
 
 St. Louis, Missouri, 20: N., 
 182(3), i88(s). 
 
 St. Matthew, N., Q., 206(4). 
 
 St. Patrick, 155-6. 
 
 St Paul, Minnesota, N., 182(3), 
 196(2). 
 
 St. Sebastian, 60-1: N., 213(23) 
 fol., 216(28). 
 
 Stage, the English, its future, 171. 
 
 "Stale Joke, A," N., 189(9)- 
 
 "Stella," Swift's. See Esther 
 Johnson. 
 
 Sterne, Laurence, Q., 167. 
 
 Stevenson^ Robert Louis, 81 : N., 
 his delightful prose, 233(22). 
 
 Stoddart, J. M., N., 179(30). 
 
 Strafford, Browning's, 130. 
 
 Strauss, Richard, JV., 264(4). 
 
 Studies in Prose and Verse, Ar- 
 thur Symons', Q., xi: N., 
 
 175(4)- 
 Style, the very condition of any 
 
 art, 102 (K. 4). 
 Suetonius, 106—7. 
 Sullivan, Sir Arthur Seymour, 
 
 N., 176(12). 
 Sun, New York, Q., xvi: N., 
 
 178(17-8), 181(2), 188(7), 189 
 
 (7), 196(1), 258(3), 265(1, 2) 
 
 fol., 266(3, 4). 270(7)- 
 Sun, Weekly (London), Q., 157— 
 
 60: N., Q., 266(5) fol.; 265(2) 
 
 fol., 266(3). 
 "Swan of Lichfield, The.** See 
 
 Anna Seward. 
 Swinburne, Algernon Charles, Q., 
 
 xxiii, 7S, 77; xxii, I2g: N., Q., 
 
 107(6) fol., 235(33); 229(31 
 
 Swift, Jonathan, 84: N., 236 
 
 (42) fol., 237(43), 239(55). 
 Switzerland, wood carving in, 12—3. 
 Symonds, John Addington, N., 
 
 Q., 213(22); 208(10). 
 Symons, Artiiur, Q., xi: N., 
 
 175(4)- 
 "Symphony in White, No. 3," 
 
 WhistlerX N., 183(9). 
 "Symphony in White, No. 4,*' 
 
 Whistler's, 10: N., 183(9). 
 Syracuse, 25. 
 
 Tartuffe, 148. 
 
 Taylor, Tom, N., 193(2). 
 
 Telegraph, The Daily (London), 
 Q., 129—30, 132: N., 255(1). 
 
 Tempest, Shakespeare's, 132. 
 
 Tenderness in Tite Street, Whist- 
 ler's, N.. Q.i.f., 199(12, I); 
 W.'s reply, Q.i.f., 199(12, II). 
 
 Ten Moments with a Poet, N., 
 176(11). 
 
 "Ten O'clock," Whistler's, Q.. 
 xxi, 49; xxii, 41-46, 49-51, 54: 
 N., Q.. I97(.S), 198(7. 8), 202 
 (11— 12) fol., 197(2). 
 
 Thackeray, William Makepeace, 
 106. 
 
 Thames, River, 98. 
 
 Theatre, The (London), N., Q., 
 267(6); 260(11), 270(7). 
 
INDEX 
 
 291 
 
 Theatres, American (New York), 
 Abbey's New Park, N., 177 
 (i3)» 194(7): Berkeley Lyceum, 
 N., 258(2); Lyceum (Old), N., 
 
 fo(7); Madison Square, 29: 
 ,, 194(g): Standard, N.. 176 
 (12), 188(7); Wallack's, N., 
 181(1), 193(2), 194(7); Acad- 
 emy of Music (Brooklyn), JV., 
 189(7). 
 
 Theatres, English (London), Bi- 
 jou, Jv., 257C2); Comedy, JV., 
 259(11); Haymarket, JV., 269 
 (2, 3); Lyceum, JV., 194(10); 
 Prince of Wales, JV., 177(13); 
 St James, JV., 269(3). 
 
 Theatres, German (Berlin), Neue 
 Theater, N., 257(2), 264(4). 
 
 Theocritus, 84. 
 
 Thirteen Club, Letter to the, Q., 
 102. 
 
 Thomson, James, 84. 
 
 Thrale, Hester L. (Piozzi), 84: 
 JV., her writings; Gifford's satire, 
 237(44)- 
 
 Three Critics: Mr. Howells, Mr. 
 Moore, and Mr. Wilde, G. R. 
 Carpenter's, JV., 176(9). 
 
 Tighe, Mary, 85: JV., her poems, 
 239(54)- 
 
 Time CLonion), JV., 216(28). 
 
 Times (London), 119—20, 151—2: 
 JV., Q., 206(3), 263(3); 251 
 (1, 2), 259(10), 260(11), 263 
 (2), 270(7). 
 
 Times, New York, Q., i8:.JV., Q., 
 206(3), 243(7); 176(11), 195 
 (i) fol., 270(7). 
 
 Tite Street, 51, 104, 113, 116; JV., 
 1^9(12). 
 
 Titian, 29: N., 194(10). 
 
 Tolstoi, (Jount Leo, 107. 
 
 Tomb of Keats, The, 55, S7-6i : 
 JV., Q., 244(13) ; Notes for, 205- 
 17; 227(21). 
 
 Tomson (Mrs.), Graham R., 80: 
 N., her works, 231(18, IV). 
 
 Tosca, La, by Sardou, 169: JV., 
 270(8). 
 
 Tragedie of Mariam, the Faire 
 Queene of Jewry, A, by Eliza- 
 beth Carew, 83: N., 234(29). 
 
 Transcript, Boston Evening, JV., 
 Q., 188(7) fol., 189(9). 191 
 (11); 187(2), 190(10) fol. 
 
 Trelawny, Edward John, N., Q., 
 213(22); 222(9). 
 
 Tribune, New-York Daily, Q., 
 xvii; xvi: JV., Q., 198(10), 226 
 (18); 178(20), 1816), 189(9). 
 195(1), 269(1), 270(7). 
 
 Troy, 72 (K. 1), 89: JV., 193(4)-. 
 
 True Function and Value of Criti- 
 
 cism, The. Concluded. JV., 
 175(7), 251(3). See The Critic 
 as Artist. Part II. 
 
 Truth (London), JV., 190(9). 
 
 Truth of Masks, The, Q., x fol.. 
 
 24: 
 
 , Q., 194(8), 201(2); 
 
 175(3). 194(10). 
 Turner, J. M. W., JV., 201(3). 
 "T. W. H." Episode, The, 21-2: 
 
 JV., 189(9) fol. 
 
 Unequal Match, An, by Tom Tay- 
 lor, JV., 193(2). 
 Vrbs Sacra Sterna, JV., 241(2). 
 
 Valera, L., N., 264(4). 
 
 "Vanessa,' Swift's, 84. See be- 
 low. 
 
 Vanhomrigh, Esther (Swift's 
 "Vanessa"), 84: JV., her rela- 
 tions with Swift, 236(42) fol. 
 
 Velasquez, 28, 43: N., 197(5). 
 
 Vera, or the Nihilists, its keynote 
 and aim, 33-4: JV., when writ- 
 ten; its production withdrawn in 
 England; reasons for this; of- 
 fered to several American man- 
 agers; privately printed in 
 America (1882); produced in 
 New York by Miss Marie Pres- 
 cott, who played the title-role; 
 damned by the critics; withdrawn 
 as a failure after one week's 
 run; royalties received by W. ; 
 the cast; "Privately printed" in 
 England, 105(1) fol.; tiie cast 
 which Wilde first attempted to 
 secure, 196(2). 
 
 "Vera" and the Drama, xxiv, 31, 
 33-7: JV., Q., 193(3); Notes 
 for 195—6. 
 
 Via Ostiensis, 57: JV., 207(6, 7). 
 
 Vision of Poets, E. B. Brown- 
 ing's, y6: JV., 230(11). 
 
 Wainewright, Thomas Griffiths, 
 
 JV., 244(12). 
 Wallack, Lester, 28: JV., 177(13), 
 
 194(7), 195(1)- 
 Waller, Edmund, Q., 84: JV., Q., 
 
 236(38). 
 Wandsworth, JV., 185(13, 17). 
 Ward, Mrs. Humphry, JV., 247(8). 
 Ward, Lock & Co., Messrs., 113: 
 
 JV. 245(3), 249(17). 
 Washington, D. C, JV., 182(3), 
 
 190(10) fol., 195(1). 
 Wasted Days N., Q., 214(24). 
 Watson, William, JV., 258(9) fol. 
 Webster, Augusta, So: JV., her 
 
 works, 231(18, III). 
 West, Benjamin, 45: JV., 199 
 
 (12, I, II). 
 
292 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Wharton, Anne, Marchioness of, 
 84 : N., her verses ; Edmund 
 Waller's praise, 236(38). 
 
 Whistler, James McNeill, xxLxxii, 
 10, 27-*, 41—46 passim, 48 (K. s), 
 4ff-5i» 54* 91 i N'* 175(2), 177 
 (12), i79C3i-4)» 180(36-7). 183 
 (9, 10) foL, 190(9). 197(1-3. 
 S, 6) fol., 198(7, 8. II) fol., 
 199(12), 301(1, a, 5) fol., 202 
 (ii-z) fol., 243(51)- S" *^° 
 
 . The Gentle Art of Making Ene- 
 mies, "Peacock Room," "Ten 
 O Clock" and Tenderness in 
 Tite Street, and below. 
 
 Whistler's Gentle Art of Making 
 Enemies. See Gentle Art. 
 
 Whistler's "Ten O'Chck/* See 
 "Ten O'clock." 
 
 Whistler's Tenderness in Tite 
 Street. See Tenderness. 
 
 Whistler v. Ruskin: Art and Art 
 Critics, N., Q., 243(3). 
 
 Whistler as I Knew Htm, by Mor- 
 timer Mcnpes, N., 184(10). 
 
 Whistler^ James McNeill by H. 
 W. Singer, Q., xxii lol. : N,, 
 179(34), 284(10). 
 
 Whistler, James McNeill, Recol- 
 lections and Impressions of, by 
 A. J. Eddy, N., 184(10). 
 
 Whistler, James McNeill, The Art 
 of, by T. R. Way and G. R. 
 Dennis, N., Q., 183(9), 201 (s); 
 184(10). 
 
 Whistler's Lecture en Art, Mr,, 
 by Algernon C. Swinburne, Q., 
 xxiii; xxii: N., Q., 197(6) folT 
 
 Whistler, Mr.,N., Q.. 197(3). 
 
 Whistler's "fen O^Clock/' Mr. 
 See Mr. Whistler. 
 
 "White (5irL The," by Whiitier, 
 iV., 183 (p3- 
 
 Whitman, Walt, N.. 177(14). 
 
 Whitney, Anne, her bust of 
 Keats, N., 215(25). 
 
 Why either Claude or Titian? N., 
 194(10). 
 
 Wilde, Oscar (Fingal O'Flahertie 
 Wills), born October 16, 1854, 
 died November 30, 1900; The 
 Epicurean, the flaneur, ix fol.; 
 poet, wit and dramatist; The 
 Protean; the great paradox, x; 
 "an artist in attitudes" ; his 
 character analyzed by Arthur 
 Symons, xi; his assumption of 
 various roles, xii: his most bril- 
 liant mood found in Intentions, 
 xiii; his practical side as^ a 
 teacher; satirized in Punch, xiv; 
 ridiculed by Gilbert and Bur- 
 nand; first trip to America 
 
 (1S82); his first lecture in New 
 York; his reception; his dress, 
 xv; his treatment by the Press; 
 by the public and hy the Har- 
 vard students, xvi; his Western 
 tour; his second lecture in New 
 York, xvii; its reception by the 
 I)ublic and the Press; its rela- 
 tion to Decorative Art,xviii fol.; 
 his definition of Decorative Art; 
 his teachings, xix ; opinion of 
 American Art (1883) ; of the 
 improvement in house furnish- 
 ing (1891), xx; bis relation to 
 Wnistler: to Ruskin, xxi; Mr. 
 H. W. Singer's strictures, xxii, 
 xxiii; his hope for a national, a 
 universal acceptance of Art; 
 his insistance on liberty for the 
 artist, xxiii; the true function 
 of criticism, xxiv; his egotism; 
 its sometime justification ; his 
 affectations, xxv; his child-like 
 nature, his enthusiasm and lack 
 of reserve; his resentment at 
 the world's attitude- his gradual 
 change from idealism to cyn- 
 icism, xxvi fol. ; dreamer and 
 wit; Pater's comment; a verbal 
 colourist, for whom Art formed 
 the dominant note, xxvii; his 
 decided views on Decorative Art 
 Jsee Decorative Art in Amer- 
 ica and Art, Decorative^ ; on 
 the painter's art (see Mr. 
 Whistler's "Ten O'Clock," The 
 Relation of Dress to Art^ Lon- 
 don Models, Art, Pictonal,^ its 
 Conditions, etc.); on Art in a 
 broader sense, in its relation to 
 literature, painting, sculpture, 
 acting, etc. (see Art — general) ; 
 on book illustration (see A 
 House of Pomegranates and 
 Art, Illustrative) ; on criticism, 
 its field, its function, its 
 rights (see Mr. Whistler's "Ten 
 O Clock," "Dorian Gray" and 
 its Critics, A House of^ Pome- 
 granates, Dramatic Critics and 
 An Ideal Husband," and Criti- 
 cism); on the drama, the stage 
 and acting (see Mrs. Langtry 
 as Hester Grasebrook, "Vera" 
 and the Drama, The Relation 
 of the Actor to the Play, The 
 Censure and "Salomi,' Dra- 
 matic Critics and "An Ideal 
 Husband," the A ctor, the 
 Drama and the Stage); on lit- 
 erature, poetry and prose (see 
 The Tomb of Keats, Keats' Son- 
 net on Blue, English Poetesses, 
 
INDEX 
 
 293 
 
 Dortan Gray" and its Critics, 
 Mr. Kipling and the Anglo- 
 Indians, The Ethics of Journal- 
 ism, Dramatic Critics and "An 
 Ideal Husband," Literature, 
 Poetry and Prose); on journal- 
 ism, its uses and abuses (see 
 Joaquin Miller, the Good Sa- 
 . maritan^ "Dorian Gray" and its 
 Critics, The Ethics of Journal- 
 ism and Journalism) ; on ethics 
 in relation to art and literature 
 (see "Dorian Gray" and its 
 Critics, and Ethics) ; on the re- 
 lig^ious drama (see The Censure 
 and "Salome," and Paris, the 
 Abode of Artists); on govern- 
 ment censorship (see "Dorian 
 Gray" and its Critics, The Cen- 
 sure and "Salome," Paris, The 
 Abode of Artists, and Censor- 
 ship); on individualism, in- 
 dividuality and personality in 
 the arts (see under those head- 
 ings) ; on dress reform for men, 
 women and children (see Deco- 
 rative Art in America, The Re- 
 lation of Dress to Art, and 
 Dress Reform); on realism in 
 the arts (see Decorative Art in 
 America, "Dorian Gray" and its 
 Critics, A House of Pomegran- 
 ates and Realism) ; his be- 
 liefs condensed and crystallized 
 into the formulae of the New 
 Esthetics (see under that 
 heading) ; presented in their 
 most concise and epigrammatic 
 form in the introductory key- 
 notes (aee Keynotes) ; his repe- 
 tition of a pleasing word, 
 phrase, or thought (see 
 Phrases, catch) ; his fine "word 
 sense," N., 207(4), 208(9); liis 
 scholarship and care in revi- 
 sion, N., 216(28); his tours 
 of Italy (1876—7) ; of Greece 
 with Professor MahafFy (1877), 
 N., 241(2); the winner of 
 the Newdigate Prize Poem 
 and other honours at Ox- 
 ford, N., 217(29), 247(11); 
 his three periods from 1876 to 
 1891, N., 207(Remark) ; his 
 second trip to America for the 
 production of Vera (1883), N., 
 195(1); the colour of his 
 eyes, N., 226(18); the butt of 
 caricature and satire (see under 
 those headings) ; his poems par- 
 odied (see Parodies) ; his re- 
 marks on America; on Niagara, 
 San Francisco, the Atlantic 
 
 Ocean (see Art, American, and 
 under those headings) ; his claim 
 that he was not English but 
 Irish, 142, 148; his love 
 of Paris, 147: N., 261(2); 
 of the Sphinx, N., 211(19) fol.; 
 his hatred of neologisms, 114: 
 N., 249(18); his connection or 
 dealings wilJi Charles Godfrey 
 Leland, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, 
 R. D'Oyly Carte, Colonel Morse, 
 
 ioaquin Miller, Mrs. Langtry, 
 liss Marie Prescott, Miss 
 Clara Morris, James McNeill 
 Whistler, Mme. Sarah Bern- 
 hardt, Mr. T. P. O'Connor, 
 Charles Ricketts, Charles Shan- 
 non, Aubrey Beardsley, Marcel 
 Schwob, Robert Ross, Robert 
 Harborough Sherard, Andre 
 Gide, Ernest La Jeunesse, etc., 
 etc. (see under those names) ; 
 his admiration for or comments 
 on Keats- E. B. Browning, 
 Christina Kossetti, George Mer- 
 edith, Walter Pater, Ruskin, 
 Carlyle, Rudyard Kipling, Rob- 
 ert Louis Stevenson and the 
 numerous English poetesses; 
 Whistler, Albert Moore, CcJrot, 
 Millet, Velasquez, etc., etc. (see 
 English Poetesses and under the 
 names giten) ; his self-pity after 
 his release from Reading C^aol 
 and adoption of the name "Se- 
 bastian Melmoth," N., 213(23) 
 fol.; his poems, plays, novels, 
 fairy tales, prose poems, letters, 
 etc. (see tmder titles of same). 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, unpublished letters 
 of. See Letters. 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, The Best of. See 
 Best of Oscar Wilde. 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, The Plays of, N., 
 216(28), 269(2, 5), 270(6). For 
 individual plays, see under their 
 own titles, 
 
 Wilde, Oscar. The Poems of, N., 
 181(2) fol., 205(1), 214(24), 
 216(28), 254(5), 263(1). For 
 individual poems see under 
 their own titles. 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, in Pretextes, by An- 
 dre Gide, Q.,xxix:A''.,Q., 246(6). 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, A Study, translated 
 from Pretextes, by Stuart Ma- 
 son, 246(6). 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, Author of "Ra- 
 venna," To, a sonnet by Au- 
 gustus M. Moore, A^^.^ 241(2). 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, et son ceuvre, by 
 J.— Joseph Renaud, N., Q., 226 
 (18), 241(1), 257(2), 261(2). 
 
294 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, II processo e I'es- 
 tetica di, by L. Gamberale, N., 
 
 Q; 257(2)- 
 
 Wtlde, Oscar. _ In Memoriam. 
 See In Memoriam. O. W, 
 
 Wilde, Oscar. The Story of an 
 Unhappy Friendship, by Robert 
 Harborough Sherard, N., Q., 
 216(28), 249(18), 257(2); 261 
 {2). 
 
 Wilde, Interviews with. See In- 
 terviews. 
 
 Wilde's, Oscar, Arrival, N., Q., 
 226(18). 
 
 Wilde's, Oscar, Mr., Bad Case, N., 
 245(1). 
 
 Wilde's, Oscar, Mr., Defence, N., 
 248(14, 16). 
 
 Wilde's, Oscar, Prototypes, N., 
 Q., 191(11). 
 
 Wilde, Oscar, Returns, N., Q., 
 243(7)- 
 
 Winchilsea, Anne Finch, Countess 
 of, 83 : N., her poems- Pope's 
 debt to her; Wordsworth's 
 statement, 235(35)- 
 
 Windsor Forest, Pope's, 84. 
 
 Winter's Tale, 85. 
 
 Woman of No Importance, A, 
 168: N., Q., 211(19); 196(2), 
 253(4); the first night, 269(3); 
 bibl.; translations in German 
 and Italian, N., 269(5). 
 
 Woman's Dress, Letter on, Q., 
 48: N., Q., 202(10). 
 
 Woman's Journal, "The, N., Q., 
 189(9). 
 
 Woman's World, The, 72, 118, 
 
 122, 136: N., 179(32), 182(6), 
 220(2), 230(13), 231(18, IV- 
 VI, Vfll) fol., 232(18, fx, X, 
 XII, 21), 233(24-5. See as- 
 terisk), 235(32, 35), 237(46), 
 254(6), 263(1). . 
 
 Women, as the writers of poetry, 
 73—86; as the writers of prose, 
 80-1,. 86: N., 233(24). 
 
 Women's Voices, edited by Mrs. 
 William Sharp, N., 233(25). 
 
 Wood, Warrington, N., 212(18). 
 
 Woodhouse MSS. of Keats, N., 
 223(13). 
 
 Wordsworth, 83; Q., 84: N., 222 
 (12), 236(35). 
 
 World, The (London), Q., x: JV., 
 Q., 199(12. I, II); 175(2), 212 
 (19), 216(28), 263(1). 
 
 World, New York, Q., 32, 122: N., 
 Q., 226(18), 243(7); 177(14), 
 178(15), 181(2), 183(8), 188 
 (7), 189(7), 190(10), 193(1), 
 194(10), igs(i), 259(10), 270 
 
 , (7)- 
 
 Wotton, Lord Henry — ^in The 
 Picture of Dorian Gray, 106, 
 108. 
 
 Wotton, Sir Henry Wotton, N., 
 
 , Q-, 235(31). 
 
 Writer, the, his choice of subject- 
 matter, 140. 
 
 Wroth, Lady Mary, 83: N., 234 
 (30). 
 
 Ye Soul Agonies in Ye Life of 
 Oscar Wilde, illustrated by 
 Charles Kendrick, N., 178(14).