I have now spent the whole of my Sunday afternoon—­the first real day of summer we have had—­in writing to you this long letter of explanation.

I have written directly and simply:  I need not tell the author of “Elder Conklin” that sweetness and simplicity of expression take more out of one than fiddling harmonics on one string.  I felt it my duty to write, but it has been a distressing one.  It would have been better for me to have lain in the brown grass on the cliff, or to have walked slowly by the sea.  It would have been kinder of you to have written to me directly about whatever harsh or hurt feelings you may have about me.  It would have saved me an afternoon of strain, and tension.

But I have something more to say.  It is pleasanter to me, now, to write about others, than about myself.

The enclosed is from a brother prisoner of mine:  released June 4th:  pray read it:  you will see his age, offence, and aim in life.

If you can give him a trial, do so.  If you see your way to this kind action, and write to him to come and see you, kindly state in your letter that it is about a situation.  He may think otherwise that it is about the flogging of A.2.11., a thing that does not interest you, and about which he is a little afraid to talk.

If the result of this long letter will be that you will help this fellow prisoner of mine to a place in your service, I shall consider my afternoon better spent than any afternoon for the last two years, and three weeks.

In any case I have now written to you fully on all things as reported to me.

I again assure you of my gratitude for your kindness to me during my imprisonment, and on my release.

And am always

Your sincere friend and admirer

OSCAR WILDE.

With regard to Lawley

All soldiers are neat, and smart, and make capital servants.  He would be a good groom:  he is, I believe, a 3rd Hussars man—­he was a quiet, well-conducted chap in Reading always.

Naturally I replied to this letter at once, saying that he had been misinformed, that I was not angry and if I could do anything for him I should be delighted:  I did my best, too, for Lawley.

Here is his letter of thanks to me for helping him when he came out of prison.

Sandwich Hotel,
Dieppe.

MY DEAR FRANK: 

Just a line to thank you for your great kindness to me—­for the lovely clothes, and for the generous cheque.

You have been a real good friend to me—­and I shall never forget your kindness:  to remember such a debt as mine to you—­a debt of kind fellowship—­is a pleasure.

About our tour—­later on let us think about it.  My friends have been so kind to me here that I am feeling happy already.

Yours,

OSCAR WILDE.

If you write to me please do so under cover to R.B.  Ross, who is here with me.