Oscar Wilde His Life and Confessions Volume 2

Prison for Oscar Wilde an English prison with its insufficient bad food[1] and soul-degrading routine for that amiable joyous eloquent pampered Sybarite. Here was a test indeed; an ordeal as by fire. What would he make of two years' hard labour in a lonely cell? There are two ways of taking prison as of taking most things and all the myriad ways between these two extremes; would Oscar be conquered by it and allow remorse and hatred to corrupt his very heart or would he conquer the prison and possess and use it? Hammer or anvil-which? Victory has its virtue and is justified of itself like sunshine; defeat carries its own condemnation. Yet we have all tasted its bitter waters: only infinite virtue can pass through life victorious Shakespeare tells us and we mortals are not of infinite virtue. The myriad vicissitudes of the struggle search out all our weaknesses; test all our powers. Every victory shows a more difficult height to scale a steeper pinnacle of god-like hardship-that's the reward of victory: it provides the hero with ever-new battle-fields: no rest for him this side the grave.