ve--and we are at a loss to conceive what other can be
devised--this position is unassailable. There is, perhaps, a passage or
so in the description of Dorian's decline that were better omitted. But
this is a matter of taste.

The motive of the tale, then, is strong. It is in his treatment of it
that Mr. Wilde has failed, and his mistakes are easy of detection.
Whether they can be as readily corrected is doubtful. To begin with, the
author has a style as striking as his matter; but he has entirely missed
reconciling the two. There is an amateurish lack of precision in the
descriptive passages. They are laboured, finikin, overlaid with paint;
and, therefore, they want vigour. "The Picture of Dorian Gray," has been
compared, very naturally, with "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde"--and we would
invite Mr. Wilde to take up that story, and consider the bold, sharply
defined strokes with which its atmosphere and "milieu" are put in. Such
brevity as Mr. Stevenson's comes from sureness of knowledge, not want of
care, and is the first sign of mastery. Nor is Mr. Wilde too wordy
alone; he is too paradoxical. Only the cook who has yet to learn will
run riot in truffles, We will admit at once that Lord Henry's epigrams
are admirable examples, taken separately; but a story demands simplicity
and proportion, and here we have neither; it demands restraint, and here
we find profusion only; it demands point, and here the point is too
often obscured by mere cleverness. Lord Henry's mission in the book is
to lead Dorian Gray to destruction; and he does so, if you please, at
the end of a string of epigrams.

In fact we should doubt that Mr. Wilde possessed the true story teller's
temperament were it not for some half a dozen passages. Here is one
where, Dorian tells of his engagement to Sibyl Vane, the actress:--

"Lips," he says, "that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered
their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me,
and kissed Juliet on the mouth."

"Yes, Dorian, I suppose you were right," said Hallward slowly.

"Have you seen her to-day?" said Lord Henry.

Dorian Gray shook his head. "I left her in the forest of Arden, I
shall find her in an orchard in Verona."

Lord Henry sipped his champagne in a meditative manner. "At what
particular point did you mention the word marriage, Dorian? and
what did she say in answer? Perhaps you forgot all about it."

"My de