The Evening Star - Thursday, August 1, 1895
This report was originally published in English. Machine translations may be available in other languages.
LESSONS OF THE WILDE CASE.
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the 'Daily Chronicle' said:—
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the Daily Chronicle said:
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the Daily Chronicle said:
Sad indeed has been the degradation of the feeling for art, for beauty, for refinement, the picture of senseless idleness which a man of great talent, but of perverted, hardly one would say of sane, character has paraded before us. The trial forms, indeed, a fresh chapter in Dr Nordau's indictment of "degradation," an appalling picture of the state of mind and heart in which all intellectual and moral perspective becomes blurred and distorted. Nothing, however, arises in life without a cause, and we have to consider whether there is not in our educational system some black spot that produces these defacements. If some of our schoolmasters had been a little more courageous, and a great deal more conscientious, we might have scaped the sickly contamination of these and many preceding scandals. One of the failings of middle class and upper class English life has been the unnatural divorce of parents from their children. The case is otherwise in France, where the influence of mothers on their sons is much stronger and more continuous than with us. We are far from agreeing with all the claims of the New Woman, but we are strongly of opinion that in the strengthening of the mother's influence over her child lies a cure for many of the evils of "civilised" life. The herding of boys in great schools, their too early separation from their homes and from association with their mothers and sisters, and the fact that after a certain age parents become almost total strangers to their children—all these things, coupled with the tasteless luxury that rich parents hold out as a poisonous lure to idle young men and women, afford a terrible wide margin for the gradual perversion of heart and intellect. It is clear that if we are to tread safely the slippery path of civilisation, if we are not to fall back into decadent paganism, we must harden and simplify our lives. Plain living and high thinking is not only the poet's watchword; it is the watchword of the democrat, the good citizen, and the man of sense.
Sad: indeed, has been the degradation of the feeling for art, for beauty, for refinement, the picture of senseless idleness which a man of great talent, but of perverted, hardly one would say of sane, character has paraded before us. The trial forms indeed, a fresh chapter in Dr Nordau's indictment of "degeneration," an appalling picture of the state of mind and heart in which all intellectual and moral perspective becomes blurred and distorted. Nothing, however, arises in life without a cause, and we have to consider whether there is not in our educational system some black spot that produces these defacements. If some of our schoolmasters had been a little more courageous, and a great deal more conscientious, we might have escaped the sickly contamination of these and many preceding scandals. One of the failings of middle class and upper class Enghsh life has been the unnatural divorce of parents for their children. The case is otherwise m France, where the influence of mothers on their sons is much stronger and more continuous than with us. We are far from agreeing with all the claims of the New Woman, but we are strongly of opinion that in the strengthening of the mother's influence over her child lies a cure for many of the evils of "civilised" life. The herding of boys in great schools, their too early separation from their homes, and from association with their mother and sisters, and the fact that after a certain age parents become almost total strangers to their children—all these things, coupled with the tasteless luxury that rich parents hold out as a poisonous lure to idle young men and women, afford a terribly wide margin for the gradual perversion of heart and intellect. It is clear that if we are to tread safely the slippery path of civilisation, if we are not to fall back into decadent paganism, we must harden and simplify our lives. Plain living and high thinking is not only tire poet's watchword; it is the watchword of the democrat, the good citizen, and the man of senses.
Sad: indeed, has been the degradation of the feeling for art, for beauty, for refinement, the picture of senseless idleness which a man of great talent, but of perverted, hardly one would say of sane, character has paraded before us. The trial forms indeed, a fresh chapter in Dr Nordau's indictment of "degeneration," an appalling picture of the state of mind and heart in which all intellectual and moral perspective becomes blurred and distorted. Nothing, however, arises in life without a cause, and we have to consider whether there is not in our educational system some black spot that produces these defacements. If some of our schoolmasters had been a little more courageous, and a great deal more conscientious, we might have escaped the sickly contamination of these and many preceding scandals. One of the failings of middle class and upper class Enghsh life has been the unnatural divorce of parents for their children. The case is otherwise m France, where the influence of mothers on their sons is much stronger and more continuous than with us. We are far from agreeing with all the claims of the New Woman, but we are strongly of opinion that in the strengthening of the mother's influence over her child lies a cure for many of the evils of "civilised" life. The herding of boys in great schools, their too early separation from their homes, and from association with their mother and sisters, and the fact that after a certain age parents become almost total strangers to their children—all these things, coupled with the tasteless luxury that rich parents hold out as a poisonous lure to idle young men and women, afford a terribly wide margin for the gradual perversion of heart and intellect. It is clear that if we are to tread safely the slippery path of civilisation, if we are not to fall back into decadent paganism, we must harden and simplify our lives. Plain living and high thinking is not only tire poet's watchword; it is the watchword of the democrat, the good citizen, and the man of senses.
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the Daily Chronicle said: Sad, indeed, has been the degradation of the feeling for art, for beauty, for refinement, the picture of senseless idleness which a man of great talent, but of perverted, hardly one would say of sane, character has paraded before us. The trial forms, indeed, a fresh chapter in Dr Nordau's indictment of 'degeneration," and appalling picture of the state of mind and heart in which all intellectual and moral perspective becomes blurred and distorted. Nothing, however, arises in life without a cause, and we have to consider whether there is not in our educational system some black spot that produces these defacements. If some of our schoolmasters had been a little more courageous, and a great deal more conscientious, we might have escaped the sickly contamination of these and many preceding scandals. One of the failings of middle class and upper class English life has been the unnatural divorce of parents for their children. The case is otherwise in France, where the influence of mothers on their sons is much stronger and more continuous than with us. We are far from agreeing with all the claims of the New Woman, but we are strongly of opinion that in the strengthening of the mother's influence over her child lies a cure for many of the evils of "civilised" life. The herding of boys in great schools, their to early separation from their homes, and from association with their mother and sisters and the fact that after a certain age parents become almost total strangers to their children—all these things, coupled with the tasteless luxury that rich parents hold out as a poisonous lure to idle young men and women, afford a terrible wide margin for the gradual perversion of heart and intellect. It is clear that if we are to tread safely the slippery path of civilisation, if we are not to fall back into decadent paganism, we must harden and simplify our lives. Plain living and high thinking is not only the poet's watchword; it is the watchword of the democrat, the good citizen, and the man of sense.
In an earlier section of the article the editor wrote:—"His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, is virtually a sentence of death or madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creature whatever."
In an earlier section of the article the editor wrote: "His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, is virtually a sentence of death or of madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creature whatever."
In an earlier section of the article the editor wrote: "His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, is virtually a sentence of death or of madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creature whatever."
In an earlier section of the article the editor wrote: "His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, it is virtually a sentence of death or of madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creatures whatever."
A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as follows:—"Two years' hard labor is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to the English criminal law. It is a form of punishment which is never inflicted on convicts sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets, and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons' Committee report that even nine months' separation often injuriously affects the nervous system, and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labor may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary reading books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation which the late chairman of the Prison Board declares to be 'irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effect.' So sever is this form of sentence considered to be that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences only thirty-four persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal court.
A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as follows: "Two years' labor is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to the English criminal law. It is a form of punishment which is never inflicted on convicts sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons Committee report that even nine months' separation often injuriously affects the nervous system, and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labor may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary reading books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation which the late chairman of the Prison Board declares to be 'irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effects.' So severe is this form of sentence considered to be that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences only thirty-four persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal courts."
A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as as follows:—Two years' hard labour is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to the English criminal law. It is a form of punishment which is never inflicted on convicts sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets, and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons Committee report that even nine months' separation often injuriously affect the nervous system, and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labour may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary reading books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation, which the late chairman of the Prison Board declares to be "irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effect." So severe is this form of sentence considered to be that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences only thirty four persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal courts."
A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as as follows:—Two years' hard labour is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to the English criminal law. It is a form of punishment which is never inflicted on convicts sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets, and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons Committee report that even nine months' separation often injuriously affect the nervous system, and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labour may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary reading books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation, which the late chairman of the Prison Board declares to be "irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effect." So severe is this form of sentence considered to be that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences only thirty four persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal courts."
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the Daily Chronicle said:—"His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, is virtually a sentence of death or madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creature whatever." A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as follows:—Two years' hard labor is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to the English criminal law. It is a form of punishment never inflicted on criminals sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets, and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons Committee report that even nine months' separation often injuriously affect the nervous system, and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labor may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary readiny books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation which the late Chairman of the Prison Board declares to be "irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effects." So severe is this form of sentence considered to be, that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences, only 34 persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal courts.
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the Daily Chronicle has said:—"His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, is virtually a sentence of death or of madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creature whatever." A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as follows:—Two years' hard labor is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to the English criminal law. It is a form of punishment never inflicted on criminals sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets, and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons Committee report that even nine months' separation often injuriously affect the nervous system, and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labor may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary reading books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation which the late Chairman of the Prison Board declares to be "irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effects." So sever is this form of sentence considered to be, that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences, only 34 persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal courts.
In a brief comment on the close of the trial of Oscar Wilde, the Daily Chronicle said:—"His sentence, enforced as it will be by the severest rigors known to our abhorrent penal system, is virtually a sentence of death or of madness, a fate to which we confess we hesitate to condemn any human creature whatever." A correspondent next day asked what this meant, and he was enlightened as follows:—Two years' hard labour is the severest sentence, while it lasts, known to English criminal law. It is a form of punishment never inflicted on criminals sentenced to penal servitude, inasmuch as it is calculated to produce madness amongst them. Nine months' separate confinement is as much as a convict gets, and is considered as much as his mind can stand. The Prisons Committee report that even nine months' separation often injurious affect the nervous system and recommend a reduction of the time. A prisoner under two years' hard labour may be kept during the whole time in the solitude of his cell, with the exception of one hour a day. During a portion of his detention he is allowed no ordinary reading books, has a wooden plank as a bed, and has to engage in occupation which the late Chairman of the Prison Board declares to be "irritating, depressing, and debasing to the mental faculties, and decidedly brutalising in its effect." So severe is this form of sentence considered to be that many judges will not inflict it at all, and last year in a total of 160,000 short sentences, only 34 persons were committed for two years by the ordinary criminal courts.