Mr. Anstey's sphere in literature and my sphere are different.
You then gravely ask me what rights I imagine literature possesses. That is really an extraordinary question for the editor of a newspaper such as yours to ask. The rights of literature, Sir, are the rights of intellect.
I remember once hearing M. Renan say that he would sooner live under a military despotism than under the despotism of the Church, because the former merely limited the freedom of action, while the latter limited the freedom of mind.
You say that a work of art is a form of action: It is not. It is the highest mode of thought.
In conclusion, Sir, let me ask you not to force on me this continued correspondence by daily attacks. It is a trouble and a nuisance.
As you assailed me first, I have a right to the last word. Let that last word be the present letter, and leave my book, I beg you, to the immortality that it deserves.
I am, Sir, your obedient servant,
OSCAR WILDE.
16, Tite Street, S.W., June 28th.