Swinburne was, of course, just as sincere in his praise of Venus and the vine as he was in his praise of liberty; more sincere, in fact, because he practiced what he preached in the former case, but he omitted to go off and die in the cause of liberty as Byron had done. Some of his licentious poetry is perfect from the technical point of view; but, on the other hand, “Poems and Ballads” contains the worst combination of words ever put into a poem: “the lilies and languors of virtue and the roses and raptures of vice.” It is pleasant to be able to record that Swinburne had the wit to ridicule his own habit of silly alliteration; see the parody called “Nephelidia”: “From the depth of the dreamy decline of the dawn through a notable nimbus of nebulous noonshine,” and so on. In “Thus Spake Zarathustra” there is a doctrine of freedom, which is summed up: I ask you, not free _from_ what, but free _to_ what? And that is what I should like to point out to young poets who uncritically accept Swinburne as a god. It is possible to be entirely free to do what you please, and yet not please to do many silly and destructive things. Young poets are free to write as eloquent verses as they know how; and they may put into those verses a celebration of all things beautiful and just and noble in the world. On the other hand, they may put in a celebration of debauchery; and they may try it out for themselves, and fall slaves to alcohol and drugs, and end in the mad-house or a suicide’s or drunkard’s grave--like Baudelaire and Verlaine and Musset and Poe and Dowson, and that brilliant, unhappy genius whose story we have next to read. CHAPTER XCV THE GREEN CARNATION Eight years ago Frank Harris published his two volumes entitled “Oscar Wilde: His Life and Confessions.” I wrote him that it was one of the half dozen greatest biographies in the English language, and he replied, characteristically: “Name the other five.” That story never fails to raise a laugh; but in fairness to Frank Harris I ought to add that when I sat down and thought it over seriously I could not name the other five. Here is the story of a terrific human tragedy, told plainly and completely, with profound insight and deep pity. How can the man who wrote it not know that it is great?