There is one measure by which intention as apart from accomplishment can be
judged, and one only: "If you think the book well done," says Pascal,
"and on re-reading find it strong; be assured that the man who wrote it,
wrote it on his knees." No book could have been written more reverently
than this book of mine.

Nice, 1910.

Frank Harris.




CHAPTER I--OSCAR'S FATHER AND MOTHER ON TRIAL



On the 12th of December, 1864, Dublin society was abuzz with excitement. A
tidbit of scandal which had long been rolled on the tongue in semi-privacy was
to be discussed in open court, and all women and a good many men were agog with
curiosity and expectation.

The story itself was highly spiced and all the actors in it well known.

A famous doctor and oculist, recently knighted for his achievements, was the
real defendant. He was married to a woman with a great literary reputation as
a poet and writer who was idolized by the populace for her passionate advocacy
of Ireland's claim to self-government; "Speranza" was regarded by the Irish
people as a sort of Irish Muse.