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Updated: May 21, 2025
First, a plea of "No libel": secondly, that the letter did not bear the defamatory sense imputed by the plaint: thirdly, a denial of the publication, and, fourthly, a plea of privilege. This last was evidently the real defence and was grounded upon facts which afforded some justification of Lady Wilde's bitter letter.
"A photograph is always like and unlike, Frank," he replied; "the sun too, when used mechanically, is merely a reporter, and traduces instead of reproducing you." "The Green Carnation" ruined Oscar Wilde's character with the general public. On all sides the book was referred to as confirming the worst suspicions: the cloud which hung over him grew continually darker.
In Wilde's own poetry we have particularly a perpetually toppling possibility of the absurd; a sense of just falling too short or just going too far. "Plant lilies at my head" has something wrong about it; something silly that is not there in "And put a grey stone at my head" in the old ballad.
Such phrases as "artists are not to copy beauty but to create it . . . . a picture is a purely decorative thing," proclaim their author. The long newspaper wrangle between the two was brought to a head in 1885, when Whistler gave his famous "Ten o'clock" discourse on Art. This lecture was infinitely better than any of Oscar Wilde's.
Lady Wilde's disdainful speeches seemed to persuade the populace, but had small effect on the jury, and still less on the judge. When she was asked if she hated Miss Travers, she replied that she did not hate anyone, but she had to admit that she disliked Miss Travers' methods of action. "Why did you not answer Miss Travers when she wrote telling you of your husband's attempt on her virtue?"
Bernardine had almost cried herself ill by the time Jasper Wilde's knock was heard on the door. Mr. Moore answered the summons. "Is there any use in my coming in?" asked Wilde, grimly, coming to a halt on the threshold. "Does your daughter consent to marry me? I could not make head or tail out of your letter." "Bernardine's answer is yes," murmured the old man, almost incoherently.
It is not nearly so well written as Oscar Wilde's "De Profundis;" but one cannot escape the suspicion that this latter masterpiece was a brilliant pose. Dostoevski's "House of the Dead" is marked by that naive Russian simplicity that goes not to the reader's head but to his heart. It is at the farthest remove from a well-constructed novel; it is indeed simply an irregular, incoherent notebook.
"As I made this startling discovery, a man laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and Jasper Wilde's voice, with a demoniac ring, cried in my horrified ears: "'I see you have kept your word, David Moore! You have murdered your enemy! "All in vain I protested my innocence. He only laughed at me, jeered at my agony with diabolical glee. "'You will be hanged, he said.
To illustrate what is meant by the carrying-forward of interest, let me cite one or two instances in which it is achieved with conspicuous success. In Oscar Wilde's first modern comedy, Lady Windermere's Fan, the heroine, Lady Windermere, has learnt that her husband has of late been seen to call very frequently at the house of a certain Mrs. Erlynne, whom nobody knows.
Bernardine looked just a trifle weary when the clock on the mantel struck ten, and Doctor Gardiner rose to depart. "Shall I hold the light for you?" she asked. "The stair-way is always very dark." "If you will be so kind," murmured the doctor. Jasper Wilde's face darkened as he listened to this conversation. His eyes flashed fire as they both disappeared through the door-way.
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