The review in _The Speaker_[18] which Oscar Wilde referred to in his letter to _The Scots Observer_ (see par. above starting with: 'And so in the case of "Dorian Gray,"'), was as follows:-- By a stroke of good fortune, singular at this season the two stories[19] which we have taken up to review this week turn out to be--each in its way--of no slight interest. Of Mr. Wilde's work, this was to be expected. Let it be granted, to begin with, that the conception of the story is exceedingly strong. A young man of remarkable beauty, perfect in body, but undeveloped,--or rather, lacking altogether,--in soul, becomes the dear friend of a painter of genius. The artist under the spell of this friendship, is painting the youth's portrait. Enter to them the spirit of evil, in the shape of Lord Henry Wotton, an extremely "fin de siècle" gentleman, who, by a few inspiring words, supplies, or calls into life, the boy's missing soul, and it is an evil one. Henceforward, the tale develops the growth of this evil soul, side by side with this mystery--that while vice and debauchery write no wrinkle on the boy's face, but pass from it as a breath off a pane, every vile action scores its mark upon the portrait, which keeps accurate record of a loathsome life. It has been insinuated that this story should be suppressed in the interest of morality. Mr. Wilde has answered that art and ethics have nothing to do with each other. His boldness in resting his defence on the general proposition is the more exemplary, as he might fairly have insisted on the particular proposition--that the teaching of the book is conspicuously right in morality. If we have correctly interpreted the book's motive--and we are at a loss to conceive what other can be devised--this position is unassailable. There is, perhaps, a passage or so in the description of Dorian's decline that were better omitted. But this is a matter of taste.