New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1914-06-14
London. MAY 10.

,,.rao,s name. He had outraged the
,,r,,,sh sense Of propriety, which 49, in
.A,s and other matters, extremely sus-
~,,n,s He had been tried and con-
- of an offence the very nature OF
-,,cb can hardly be mentioned. He
"a neen sentenced TO prison and had
-, ont his sentence i'm Reading Gaol;
-. no had written the Ballad which
ms likely TO be as long remembered
.,,. poetrv Of the period. His books
- nasn withdrawn from circulation.
49,. r,avs had been silently removed
from the stage. lie had died abroad
IN utter poverty
years elapsed. The public was sup
Ia 10 have forgotten all these Of
80 or to have grown Indifferent.
:, = 6if5cult 10 maintain a state OF
,,,b,io indignation; no matter how
r;,b,eous: and perhaps the more right
.o,,s the more difficult. References to
HE hooks began TO creep back int"
nrint one Of his plays was revived at
leading theatre: without the name Of
the author: which everybody knew.
The theatre was thronged. Presently
the name Of the author was restored
and other }pieces Of his were played,
Tbsv nublfc bore IT, The Press praised
,he nioces. They were found TO be
nathalie The commercial instinct.
which some people hold to be stronger
than the moral instinct, recognized the
value Of the box Office best. His books
were again to be found on the counters
q, fashionable bookshops and on the
tables Of fashionable drawing rooms.
For the purposes Of the Stage and II
Literature he was reinstated in public
favor.
And now. within the last tWenty-four
hours two things have happened. The
chelsea Borough Council voted by a
large majority TO remove from the
Chelsea Town Hall the mural panel
with a figure Of Wilde, "on artistic
grounds" And Sir George Alexander
has reproduced at the St. Jamess The
stre WHdes play entitled AN Ideal
Husband" which a select London audi
ence has approved and applauded.
Between them. these two incidents re-
feet fairly enough the condition OF the
general British feeling toward Wilde's
memory and his work in literature and
the drama. There is division of opin-
ion He has disciples and admirers,
who keep up a sort of worship. He has
still enemies. or let us say opponents
on moral grounds. He has critics who
think his day past, so far as the the
stre is concerned. And there is body
larger then both together, composed OF
men and women who are neither parti-
sans nor adversaries, but willing 10
Judge his performances on their merits
oscar Wilde died in 1900, a bankrupt
in respect Of property and reputation
alike hnd known him during part of
bis career and met him rather often.
With regard to our personal relations
will quote Wilde's own testimony:
. 81 dislike all journalists and Smalley
most of all"
There was never, so far as I recol-
lec;, a quarrel; only mutual antipa-
thy which was so strong on my side
as we'll as on his that l preferred to
say nothing about him after his death.
Yet there had been moment, not long
before, when my animosities, If l had
any, softened. and. for the moment,
gave way to pity and regret. l was
staying with Sir Sydney and Lady
Waterlow at their villa in CartCes
during the winter of 1S98-'99. Eyerv
Sunday morning I used to drive with
Sir Sydney TO the further end of the
Esterel promontory, the most pictu-
rescue portion Of that picturesque Medi-
terranean shore, to the east and south
East Of the town. AS the horses walked
W the long hill saw at some distance
figure Of a man coming slowly down.
he was tall. heavily built, Ill dressed,
nmost ragged. You could hardly say
he walked. He shambled and slouched
and stumbled along. AS he came near,
bis face was bloated, the flesh hung
below the jaw in dewlaps. the eyes
we're bleared; there was hardly a look
u conscious humanity left in them;
hs whole attitude was one Of illness
md extreme misery and despair.
He passed rather close TO the VIC
sg,a, and the spectacle Of so much
aamsn wreckage was appalling. There
vas thought, a faint CLEAN Of recog-
hton in his eye, whether for Sir sgd
asy or for me j could not tell. 1t did
not occur 10 me that had ever seen
'lm before. We were near the top Of
NE hill, the horses broke into a trot,
ne man was already disappearing
wen knew, all in a fash, that II was
"ilde. had no notion he was in that
'art Of the world. l put my foot on
We step Of the victoria, but we were
y That time driving fast, and / sat
1h. Enemies as we had been, 1t was
impossible 10 see him in such a state
= mat without wishing to speak. l
ave been sorry ever since that l di !
cot.
neard soon after that ne was living
~ the edge OF the cliff in a wretched
'.ie cabaret. a wine shop. where he
'sio TWO francs a day, rather less than