not so much to the nastiness of "The Picture of
Dorian Gray," but to its dulness and stupidity. Mr. Wilde pretends that
we have advertised it. So we have, if any readers are attracted to a
book which, we have warned them, will bore them insufferably.

That the story is corrupt cannot be denied; but we added, and assuredly
believe, that it is not dangerous, because, as we said, it is tedious
and stupid.

Mr. Wilde tells us that he wrote the story for his own pleasure, and
found great pleasure in writing it. We congratulate him. There is no
triumph more precious to your aesthete than the discovery of a delight
which outsiders cannot share or even understand. The author of "The
Picture of Dorian Gray" is the only person likely to find pleasure in
it.

[7] June 26th, 1890.

* * * * *

_Why should an artist be troubled by the shrill clamour of criticism?_

* * * * *

MR. OSCAR WILDE AGAIN.

Mr. Oscar Wilde continues to carry on the defence of his novelette, "The
Picture of Dorian Gray". Writing to us under yesterday's date[8], he
says:--

In your issue of to-day you state that my brief letter published in your
columns is the "best reply" I can make to your article upon "Dorian
Gray." This is not so. I do not propose to discuss fully the matter
here, but I feel bound to say that your article contains the most
unjustifiable attack that has been made upon any man of letters for many
years.

The writer of it, who is quite incapable of concealing his personal
malice, and so in some measure destroys the effect he wishes to produce,
seems not to have the slightest idea of the temper in which a work of
art should be approached. To say that such a book as mine should be
"chucked into the fire" is silly. That is what one does with newspapers.

Of the value of pseudo-ethical criticism; in dealing with artistic work
I have spoken already. But as your writer has ventured into the perilous
grounds of literary criticism I ask you to allow me, in fairness not
merely to myself, but to all men to whom literature is a fine art, to
say a few words about his critical method.

He begins by assailing me with much ridiculous virulence because the
chief personages in my story are puppies. They _are_ puppies. Does he
think that literature went to the dogs when Thackeray wrote about
puppydom? I think that puppies are extremely interesting from an
artistic as well as