CHAPTER IV.

dsdrooped,andhebegantothink.CertainlyfewpeoplehadeverinterestedhimsomuchasDorianGray,andyetthelad’smadadorationofsomeoneelsecausedhimnottheslightestpangofannoyanceorjealousy.Hewaspleasedbyit.Itmadehimamoreinterestingstudy.Hehadbeenalwaysenthralledbythemethodsofnaturalscience,buttheordinarysubject-matterofthatsciencehadseemedtohimtrivialandofnoimport.Andsohehadbegunbyvivisectinghimself,ashehadendedbyvivisectingothers.Humanlife—thatappearedtohimtheonethingworthinvestigating.Comparedtoittherewasnothingelseofanyvalue.Itwastruethatasonewatchedlifeinitscuriouscrucibleofpainandpleasure,onecouldnotwearoverone’sfaceamaskofglass,norkeepthesulphurousfumesfromtroublingthebrainandmakingtheimaginationturbidwithmonstrousfanciesandmisshapendreams.Therewerepoisonssosubtlethattoknowtheirpropertiesonehadtosickenofthem.Thereweremaladiessostrangethatonehadtopassthroughthemifonesoughttounderstandtheirnature.And,yet,whatagreatrewardonereceived!Howwonderfulthewholeworldbecametoone!Tonotethecurioushardlogicofpassion,andtheemotionalcolouredlifeoftheintellect—toobservewheretheymet,andwheretheyseparated,atwhatpointtheywereinunison,andatwhatpointtheywereatdiscord—therewasadelightinthat!Whatmatterwhatthecostwas?Onecouldneverpaytoohighapriceforanysensation. Hewasconscious—andthethoughtbroughtagleamofpleasureintohisbrownagateeyes—thatitwasthroughcertainwordsofhis,musicalwordssaidwithmusicalutterance,thatDorianGray’ssoulhadturnedtothiswhitegirlandbowedinworshipbeforeher.Toalargeextenttheladwashisowncreation.Hehadmadehimpremature.Thatwassomething.Ordinarypeoplewaitedtilllifedisclosedtothemitssecrets,buttothefew,totheelect,themysteriesoflifewererevealedbeforetheveilwasdrawnaway.Sometimesthiswastheeffectofart,andchieflyoftheartofliterature,whichdealtimmediatelywiththepassionsandtheintellect.Butnowandthenacomplexpersonalitytooktheplaceandassumedtheofficeofart,wasindeed,initsway,arealworkofart,lifehavingitselaboratemasterpieces,justaspoetryhas,orsculpture,orpainting. Yes,theladwaspremature.Hewasgatheringhisharvestwhileitwasyetspring.Thepulseandpassionofyouthwereinhim,buthewasbecomingself-conscious.Itwasdelightfultowatchhim.Withhisbeautifulface,andhisbeautifulsoul,hewasathingtowonderat.Itwasnomatterhowitallended,orwasdestinedtoend.Hewaslikeoneofthosegraciousfiguresinapageantoraplay,whosejoysseemtoberemotefromone,butwhosesorrowsstirone’ssenseofbeauty,andwhosewoundsarelikeredroses. Soulandbody,bodyandsoul—howmysterioustheywere!Therewasanimalisminthesoul,andthebodyhaditsmomentsofspirituality.Thesensescouldrefine,andtheintellectcoulddegrade.Whocouldsaywherethefleshlyimpulseceased,orthepsychicalimpulsebegan?Howshallowwerethearbitrarydefinitionsofordinarypsychologists!Andyethowdifficulttodecidebetweentheclaimsofthevariousschools!Wasthesoulashadowseatedinthehouseofsin?Orwasthebodyreallyinthesoul,asGiordanoBrunothought?Theseparationofspiritfrommatterwasamystery,andtheunionofspiritwithmatterwasamysteryalso. Hebegantowonderwhetherwecouldevermakepsychologysoabsoluteasciencethateachlittlespringoflifewouldberevealedtous.Asitwas,wealwaysmisunderstoodourselvesandrarelyunderstoodothers.Experiencewasofnoethicalvalue.Itwasmerelythenamemengavetotheirmistakes.Moralistshad,asarule,regardeditasamodeofwarning,hadclaimedforitacertainethicalefficacyintheformationofcharacter,hadpraiseditassomethingthattaughtuswhattofollowandshoweduswhattoavoid.Buttherewasnomotivepowerinexperience.Itwasaslittleofanactivecauseasconscienceitself.Allthatitreallydemonstratedwasthatourfuturewouldbethesameasourpast,andthatthesinwehaddoneonce,andwithloathing,wewoulddomanytimes,andwithjoy. ItwascleartohimthattheexperimentalmethodwastheonlymethodbywhichonecouldarriveatanyscientificanalysisofthepassionsandcertainlyDorianGraywasasubjectmadetohishand,andseemedtopromiserichandfruitfulresults.HissuddenmadloveforSibylVanewasapsychologicalphenomenonofnosmallinterest.Therewasnodoubtthatcuriosityhadmuchtodowithit,curiosityandthedesirefornewexperiences,yetitwasnotasimple,butratheraverycomplexpassion.Whattherewasinitofthepurelysensuousinstinctofboyhoodhadbeentransformedbytheworkingsoftheimagination,changedintosomethingthatseemedtotheladhimselftoberemotefromsense,andwasforthatveryreasonallthemoredangerous.Itwasthepassionsaboutwhoseoriginwedeceivedourselvesthattyrannizedmoststronglyoverus.Ourweakestmotiveswerethoseofwhosenaturewewereconscious.Itoftenhappenedthatwhenwethoughtwewereexperimentingonotherswewerereallyexperimentingonourselves. WhileLordHenrysatdreamingonthesethings,aknockcametothedoor,andhisvaletenteredandremindedhimitwastimetodressfordinner.Hegotupandlookedoutintothestreet.Thesunsethadsmittenintoscarletgoldtheupperwindowsofthehousesopposite.Thepanesglowedlikeplatesofheatedmetal.Theskyabovewaslikeafadedrose.Hethoughtofhisfriend’syoungfiery-colouredlifeandwonderedhowitwasallgoingtoend. Whenhearrivedhome,abouthalf-pasttwelveo’clock,hesawatelegramlyingonthehalltable.HeopeneditandfounditwasfromDorianGray.ItwastotellhimthathewasengagedtobemarriedtoSibylVane.