The straiter sect of Oscarians may perhaps shake their heads over Mr. Oscar Wilde's book, [of] reprint, Lord Arthur Savile's Crime, and Other Stories (London: Osgood, McIlvaine, and Co ...). Except in the description of Lord Arthur's bathroom and bath, the usual wildings of the author's fancy are for the most part absent; there are few derangements of epitaphs, and the whole, even when it is paradoxical, is paradoxical in a simple and straightforward kind of way. The topsy-turvifying in the first story, if insisted on a little too long---the great danger in all these things,---is not unfunny. Lord Arthur Savile, a young man of great beauty (and of more personal goodness than sometimes appertains to Mr, Wilde's young men of great beauty), is engaged (also a good sign) to a girl of marvellous loveliness, Suddenly he is told by a cheiromancer that he will commit a murder. Lord Arthur's high-souled chivalry concludes that it would be base to marry with this doom banging over him, and that the only thing to do is to put the marriage off and get the murder over. 'The unexpected difficulties which arise and the final success may be leftto the reader. The thing, of course, is not original: De Quincey, Champfleury, Mr. Stevenson, and others may claiin royalty on it; but it is fairly done. The other chief story, 'The Canterville Ghost', is a rather quaint combination of a burlesque and a bluette---of Mark Twain and Musaeus, The poor ghost passes into the possession of an American family, and finds all his wonted terrors frustrated by their unfeeling modernity. Yet he is 'laid' at last in the most authentic and romantic manner by Virginia, the daughter of the house. The other two stories, 'A Sphinx Without a Secret' and 'The Model Millionaire', are much slighter, but by no means bad of their kind, As an example of what Mr. Wilde's writing is like when mask and domino are off, the book is interesting.