or
the man who was always a law unto himself. Yet by some extraordinary
prescience, some inexplicable presentiment, the approaching
catastrophe cast its shadow over his mind and he felt vaguely that the
life-journey of genius would be incomplete and farcical without the
final tragedy: whoever lives for the highest must be crucified.

It seems memorable to me that in this brief summer of his life, Oscar
Wilde should have concerned himself especially with the life-story of
the Man of Sorrows who had sounded all the depths of suffering. Just
when he himself was about to enter the Dark Valley, Jesus was often in
his thoughts and he always spoke of Him with admiration. But after all
how could he help it? Even Dekker saw as far as that:

"The best of men
That e'er wore earth about Him."

This was the deeper strain in Oscar Wilde's nature though he was
always disinclined to show it. Habitually he lived in humorous talk,
in the epithets and epigrams he struck out in the desire to please and
astonish his hearers.

One evening I learned almost by chance that he was about to try a new
experiment and break into a new field.

He took up the word "lose" at the table, I remember.

"We lose our chances," he said, laughing, "we lose our figures, we
even lose our characters; but we must never lose our temper. That is
our duty to our neighbour, Frank; but sometimes we mislay it, don't
we?"

"Is that going in a book, Oscar?" I asked, smiling, "or in an article?
You have written nothing lately."

"I have a play in my mind," he replied gravely. "To-morrow I am going
to shut myself up in my room, and stay there until it is written.
George Alexander has been bothering me to write a play for some time
and I've got an idea I rather like. I wonder can I do it in a week, or
will it take three? It ought not to take long to beat the Pineros and
the Joneses." It always annoyed Oscar when any other name but his came
into men's mouths: his vanity was extraordinarily alert.

Naturally enough he minimised Mr. Alexander's initiative. The
well-known actor had "bothered" Oscar by advancing him L100 before the
scenario was even outlined. A couple of months later he told me that
Alexander had accepted his comedy, and was going to produce "Lady
Windermere's Fan." I thought the title excellent.

"Territorial names," Oscar explained, gravely, "have always a _cachet_
of distinction: they fall on the ear full toned with secular dignity.