thought
of punishing him for his crimes.

Our time is even more tolerant and more corrupt. For a worse crime
than extortion Cecil Rhodes was not even brought to trial, but
honoured and feted, while his creatures, who were condemned by the
House of Commons Committee, were rewarded by the Government.

Had not Wilde also rendered distinguished services to his country? The
wars waged against the Mashonas and Matabeles were a doubtful good;
but the plays of Oscar Wilde had already given many hours of innocent
pleasure to thousands of persons, and were evidently destined to
benefit tens of thousands in the future. Such a man is a benefactor of
humanity in the best and truest sense, and deserves peculiar
consideration.

To the society favourite the discredit of the trial with Lord
Queensberry was in itself a punishment more than sufficient. Everyone
knew when Oscar Wilde left the court that he left it a ruined and
disgraced man. Was it worth while to stir up all the foul mud again,
in order to beat the beaten? Alas! the English are pedants, as Goethe
saw; they think little of literary men, or of merely spiritual
achievements. They love to abide by rules and pay no heed to
exceptions, unless indeed the exceptions are men of title or great
wealth, or "persons of importance" to the Government. The majority of
the people are too ignorant to know the value of a book and they
regard poetry as the thistle-down of speech. It does not occur to
Englishmen that a phrase may be more valuable and more enduring in its
effects than a long campaign and a dozen victories. Yet, the sentence,
"Let him that is without sin among you first cast the stone," or
Shakespeare's version of the same truth: "if we had our deserts which
of us would escape whipping?" is likely to outlast the British Empire,
and prove of more value to humanity.

The man of genius in Great Britain is feared and hated in exact
proportion to his originality, and if he happens to be a writer or a
musician he is despised to boot. The prejudice against Oscar Wilde
showed itself virulently on all hands. Mr. Justice Collins did not
attempt to restrain the cheering of the court that greeted the success
of Lord Queensberry. Not one of the policemen who stood round the door
tried to stop the "booing" of the crowd who pursued Oscar Wilde with
hootings and vile cries when he left the court. He was judged already
and condemned before being tried.

The police, too, acted against him