CHAPTER VI.

nthemiddleclassesarenotmodern.” DorianGraylaughed,andtossedhishead.“Youarequiteincorrigible,HarrybutIdon’tmind.Itisimpossibletobeangrywithyou.WhenyouseeSibylVane,youwillfeelthatthemanwhocouldwrongherwouldbeabeast,abeastwithoutaheart.Icannotunderstandhowanyonecanwishtoshamethethingheloves.IloveSibylVane.Iwanttoplaceheronapedestalofgoldandtoseetheworldworshipthewomanwhoismine.Whatismarriage?Anirrevocablevow.Youmockatitforthat.Ah!don’tmock.ItisanirrevocablevowthatIwanttotake.Hertrustmakesmefaithful,herbeliefmakesmegood.WhenIamwithher,Iregretallthatyouhavetaughtme.Ibecomedifferentfromwhatyouhaveknownmetobe.Iamchanged,andthemeretouchofSibylVane’shandmakesmeforgetyouandallyourwrong,fascinating,poisonous,delightfultheories.” “Andthoseare...?”askedLordHenry,helpinghimselftosomesalad. “Oh,yourtheoriesaboutlife,yourtheoriesaboutlove,yourtheoriesaboutpleasure.Allyourtheories,infact,Harry.” “Pleasureistheonlythingworthhavingatheoryabout,”heansweredinhisslowmelodiousvoice.“ButIamafraidIcannotclaimmytheoryasmyown.ItbelongstoNature,nottome.PleasureisNature’stest,hersignofapproval.Whenwearehappy,wearealwaysgood,butwhenwearegood,wearenotalwayshappy.” “Ah!butwhatdoyoumeanbygood?”criedBasilHallward. “Yes,”echoedDorian,leaningbackinhischairandlookingatLordHenryovertheheavyclustersofpurple-lippedirisesthatstoodinthecentreofthetable,“whatdoyoumeanbygood,Harry?” “Tobegoodistobeinharmonywithone’sself,”hereplied,touchingthethinstemofhisglasswithhispale,fine-pointedfingers.“Discordistobeforcedtobeinharmonywithothers.One’sownlife—thatistheimportantthing.Asforthelivesofone’sneighbours,ifonewishestobeaprigoraPuritan,onecanflauntone’smoralviewsaboutthem,buttheyarenotone’sconcern.Besides,individualismhasreallythehigheraim.Modernmoralityconsistsinacceptingthestandardofone’sage.Iconsiderthatforanymanofculturetoacceptthestandardofhisageisaformofthegrossestimmorality.” “But,surely,ifonelivesmerelyforone’sself,Harry,onepaysaterriblepricefordoingso?”suggestedthepainter. “Yes,weareoverchargedforeverythingnowadays.Ishouldfancythattherealtragedyofthepooristhattheycanaffordnothingbutself-denial.Beautifulsins,likebeautifulthings,aretheprivilegeoftherich.” “Onehastopayinotherwaysbutmoney.” “Whatsortofways,Basil?” “Oh!Ishouldfancyinremorse,insuffering,in...well,intheconsciousnessofdegradation.” LordHenryshruggedhisshoulders.“Mydearfellow,medi?valartischarming,butmedi?valemotionsareoutofdate.Onecanusetheminfiction,ofcourse.Butthentheonlythingsthatonecanuseinfictionarethethingsthatonehasceasedtouseinfact.Believeme,no