The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1906-09-01

Ne only NEuaAmsns that could justify q
ht9 q WAoN - present: q calm statement
Of The tnp0rtAnt facts, with n critical ex-
Animation of his works and his place In
nknoeosnth century literature.
Unfortunately, Mr.. 9hOrard has the
o. ~ssMion Of Wlds's figure In tho dock
a q condsmnod felon. He cannot free
htrnssf from Il and does not allow his
reader 20 lose sight Of Wilde's disgrace
for Q moment. TAs one material thing In
wtldo's oarasr 90 far a. the world ID con-
eerned 10 the value Of his contribution TO
betters. His English, his essays, his spark
ling plays, his poems Of worth are all that
have 10 Be considered. The mans life
II Of little moment; he IL dead now, and his
vAnitiss and poses have died with him.
With might hope that his aims, too, might
b buried with him.
About Wilds's literary work Mr.. SherArd
has very littls 70 say He praises indiS-
~crimtnatslyj he does give q list Of the plays
and Of the volumes Of collected wcrks, but
the reader will DO hard put 90 Il to derive
an impresslon Of tho importance Of th fLlSys
or the esaays and still lees Of the n ems.
To the most unsavory Of Wilde's works,
The Picture Of Dorian Gray b gives
undue prominence, because be feels called
upon to defend Il, and be has q good deal
to say about the pieces written after he was
released from prison. Now, whatever place
Oscar Wilde may take in English letters
does not depend upon these, but on tho
plays and the poems.
The b~iographer's sense Of proportion. 10
wholly distorted. He tells US that 1T IL now
not too late to establish fact, to refute false
hood and to present q story freed from the
s~upercharges OF error or Of malice So he
oorrects matters Of petty detail that concern
only the Oscar Wilde Of caricature, with the
Dsthetio afectations, that vas wiped out
by the tragedy Of his downfall. II IL the
ridiouled Bunthorne that Mr.. Sherard sees
In him from beginning to end and never the
talented writer. We are told that be was
two years older than he pretended to be:
that he drew his affectations from his
mother; what his marks at sohoo we're;
how he stood higher at college than Sir
Edward Carson, who prosecuted him; the
explanation Of his row with the Harvard
students and bis ~impertinenos to a London
theatre audience; his glorious insolenoe at
the trial which Mr.. Sherard seems to look
upon "a q triumph for him rather than for
the o-ross-examiner who brought him low.
Always the Oscar Wilde Of the velvet small
clothes and the lily. never the poet.
With regard TO the crime that ended
Wilde's career, q crime rs thoroughly
proved and a. properly punished as any
that human Justice has dealt with, Mr..
Sherard IL lncoherent and puerile and out
RACES all deoency. Az one time he suggests
that Wilde should not have been convicted
on the evidence. though he does not go 30
far a. to deny his guilt. Apparently he
believes that after conviction he should
not have been punished. Throughout,
however, he shows that he IL thoroughly
convinced Of his hero's guilt and endeavors
TO palliate it. He attributes it TO heredity,
and to prove this blasts the reputation Of
Wilde's father and throws aspersions on
his mother and other relatives, with what
foundation he himself possibly knows. He
attributes It Il the training at Oxford and
to acquaintance with Greek and Latin
authors. He attributes It to the habit OF
drinking and gorging, into which he asserts
Wilde fell a. o a. he came into money.
Il Ia a delightful pathological study such a.
only q close friend could be guilty Of.
No enemy could have shown up Oscar
Wilde In q worse light. The pity Of II is
that there was no need OF Mr.. Sherard's
surmises at all. The whole should have
beer passed over and allowed TO drop. That
10 what history and time will do save for
enterprising biographers Of Mr.. Sherard's
stamp. The French would call his book
Une mdupdNe action.