The Angel of Death has already come
and gone for the personality of Oscar
Wilde some years since, but it has not, nor
can it touch the immortality of his
thought or of his soul. These are eternal,
joyous off-shootings of the Soul of God.
Earthly judgment may praise or censure
the man of whom this is written, but it
cannot interfere with the judgment of
Him who wots of poets' ways even, verily,
as His Very Own. And in the fulfill-
ment of things it has come to pass that
the present generation sanctions the
greatness and the wisdom of Oscar
Wilde, whom his own generation failed
to understand. Now he is seen to have
been the philosopher throughout, under
the happy disguise of the dramatist, the
artist and the satirist.
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