ived for the beautiful and extraordinary, but not
for the Good and still less for the Whole; he acknowledged no moral
obligation; _in commune bonis_ was an ideal which never said anything
to him; he cared nothing for the common weal; he held himself above
the mass of the people with an Englishman's extravagant insularity and
aggressive pride. Politics, social problems, religion--everything
interested him simply as a subject of art; life itself was merely
material for art. He held the position Goethe had abandoned in youth.

The view was astounding in England and new everywhere in its
onesidedness. Its passionate exaggeration, however, was quickening,
and there is, of course, something to be said for it. The artistic
view of life is often higher than the ordinary religious view; at
least it does not deal in condemnations and exclusions; it is more
reasonable, more catholic, more finely perceptive.

"The artist's view of life is the only possible one," Oscar used to
say, "and should be applied to everything, most of all to religion and
morality. Cavaliers and Puritans are interesting for their costumes
and not for their convictions....

"There is no general rule of health; it is all personal,
individual.... I only demand that freedom which I willingly concede to
others. No one condemns another for preferring green to gold. Why
should any taste be ostracised? Liking and disliking are not under our
control. I want to choose the nourishment which suits _my_ body and
_my_ soul."

I can almost hear him say the words with his charming humorous smile
and exquisite flash of deprecation, as if he were half inclined to
make fun of his own statement.

It was not his views on art, however, which recommended him to the
aristocratic set in London; but his contempt for social reform, or
rather his utter indifference to it, and his English love of
inequality. The republicanism he flaunted in his early verses was not
even skin deep; his political beliefs and prejudices were the
prejudices of the English governing class and were all in favour of
individual freedom, or anarchy under the protection of the policeman.

"The poor are poor creatures," was his real belief, "and must always
be hewers of wood and drawers of water. They are merely the virgin
soil out of which men of genius and artists grow like flowers. Their
function is to give birth to genius and nourish it. They have no other
_raison d'etre_. Were men as intelligent as bee