The definition of a disciple as one who has the courage of the opinions of his master is really too old even for Mr. Whistler to be allowed to claim it, and as for borrowing Mr. Whistler’s ideas about art, the only thoroughly original ideas I have ever heard him express have had reference to his own superiority as a painter over painters greater than himself.

It is a trouble for any gentleman to have to notice the lucubrations of so ill-bred and ignorant a person as Mr. Whistler, but your publication of his insolent letter left me no option in the matter.—­I remain, sir, faithfully yours, Oscar Wilde.

16 Tite street, Chelsea, S. W.

LETTERS ON DORIAN GRAY

I. MR. WILDE’S BAD CASE

(St. James’s Gazette, June 26, 1890.)

To the Editor of the St. James’s Gazette.

Sir,—­I have read your criticism of my story, The Picture of Dorian Gray; and I need hardly say that I do not propose to discuss its merits or demerits, its personalities or its lack of personality.  England is a free country, and ordinary English criticism is perfectly free and easy.  Besides, I must admit that, either from temperament or taste, or from both, I am quite incapable of understanding how any work of art can be criticised from a moral standpoint.  The sphere of art and the sphere of ethics are absolutely distinct and separate; and it is to the confusion between the two that we owe the appearance of Mrs. Grundy, that amusing old lady who represents the only original form of humour that the middle classes of this country have been able to produce.

What I do object to most strongly is that you should have placarded the town with posters on which was printed in large letters:—­

   Mr. Oscar Wilde’s
   latest advertisement: 
   A bad case.

Whether the expression ‘A Bad Case’ refers to my book or to the present position of the Government, I cannot tell.  What was silly and unnecessary was the use of the term ‘advertisement.’

I think I may say without vanity—­though I do not wish to appear to run vanity down—­that of all men in England I am the one who requires least advertisement.  I am tired to death of being advertised—­I feel no thrill when I see my name in a paper.  The chronicle does not interest me any more.  I wrote this book entirely for my own pleasure, and it gave me very great pleasure to write it.  Whether it becomes popular or not is a matter of absolute indifference to me.  I am afraid, Sir, that the real advertisement is your cleverly written article.  The English public, as a mass, takes no interest in a work of art until it is told that the work in question is immoral, and your reclame will, I have no doubt, largely increase the sale of the magazine; in which sale I may mention with some regret, I have no pecuniary interest.—­I remain, Sir, your obedient servant, Oscar Wilde.