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The hearing of the charge against the Marquis of Queensberry of maliciously publishing a false and defamatory libel concerning Mr. Oscar Wilde was resumed yesterday morning before Mr. Justice Collins at the Central Criminal Court.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared for the prosecution; Mr Carson, Q.C., Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill for the defence; and Mr. Besley, Q.C., and Mr. Monckton for Lord Douglas of Hawick.

The cross examination of Mr. Wilde by Mr. Carson, which was in progress at the time of the adjournment on Wednesday, was continued. The witness said that he was on intimate terms with Taylor, and so continued until the present time. It was Taylor who arranged to meet him and Wood in reference to the letters at Taylor's house in Little College-street. He had known Taylor since the early part of October of the previous year. Taylor visited him at his house, at his chambers, and at the Savoy Hotel. He occupied the upper part of the house, and might have four rooms. He did not know whether Taylor kept a servant, or whether he used to do his own cooking. Sometimes Taylor and sometimes a friend opened the street door. The rooms were not peculiar, except that they exhibited more taste than was usual in rooms of the kind. They were very pretty.

Is it true that the double curtains were always drawn across the windows, and that candles were lighted both day and night?—Quite untrue, I should say. I can remember seeing daylight in the room. It was about the 12th of March. I went in the middle of the day.

Were the rooms strongly perfumed?—I have known him to burn perfumes in his rooms. I cannot say that it was always so, but it was the same as I used to do in my rooms. I met a man named Mayor there once, and sent Taylor last Sunday to try and find him.

Had you any particular business with Taylor?—No; no business at all. He was a young man of great taste and intelligence. He wrote good English and had been brought up at a good public school. He used to listen well. (Laughter.) We used to discuss artistic subjects.

Was he an artist? —He was not an artist to create anything, but he had great taste, and was intellectual and clever. I did not get him to arrange dinners for me to meet young men, but I have dined with him about 12 times, perhaps, at restaurants in Rupert-street—the Florence, Kettner's, the Solferino—generally in private rooms, as I prefer dining in private rooms.

Did you send him this telegram—"Can you call at six o'clock? Oscar, Savoy?"—Yes; I was staying at the Savoy at the time. I wanted to see him because I had had an anonymous letter saying that Wood was going to blackmail me about letters which had been stolen from Lord Alfred Douglas. The matter was discussed then. "Fred" was a young man to whom I was introduced by a gentleman—a friend of mine. His other name was Atkins.

You were very familiar with him?— What do you mean by familiar? I liked him.

You told me yesterday that you always called people whom you liked by their Christian names.—Yes, I always do when I like a man. I used to meet Fred at Taylor's, but 1 do not know whether I have met him at tea parties there. He used to call me by my Christian name, and Taylor and I used to call him Fred. I never heard that Taylor was being watched by the police; but I did hear that Taylor and Parker were arrested in a raid made by the police on a house in Fitzroy-square. I knew Parker, but I did not see him at Taylor's rooms.

How many young men did Taylor introduce to you?—I should think six, or seven, or eight.

With whom you afterwards became intimate or friendly—I should think about five.

Whom you would call by their Christian names ?—Yes.

Were those young men always about 20 years of age?—Twenty or 22. I like the society of young men.

Were any of them of any occupation?—Really I cannot say. If you ask me in regard to people's occupation I really cannot tell you.

Have you given money to all of the five?—Yes, to all of the five, I should think—I should say money and presents. They gave me nothing. Taylor introduced me to Charles Barker, with whom I became friendly.

Was he a gentleman's servant out of employment?—I have no knowledge; I never heard it.

If you had known that he was a gentleman's servant out of employment, would you have become friendly with him?—I would become friendly with any person whom I liked.

What was his age?—I do not know. I think he was about 20, but whether he was only 17 or not I do not know. I have never asked him his age. I think it vulgar to ask people their ages.

Was he an artist ?—No. Was he educated?—Culture was not his strong point. (Laughter.) I do not know about his past life. I never inquire about people's past. I have not the remotest idea what he is now. I have lost sight of him. I have given him altogether, perhaps, £4 or £5.

What for?—Because he was poor; and what better reason could I have for giving money. I first met him with Alfred Taylor. His brother was with him.

Did you become friendly with his brother?—They were my guests at the restaurant.

On the first occasion that you saw them?—Yes. It was Taylor's birthday, and I asked him to dinner, and told him to bring his friends.

Did you know that one of them was a gentleman's valet, and the other a gentleman's groom?—I did not know it, and if I had known it I should not have cared. I do not care twopence about social position.

What was your reason for being with these young men? —The pleasure of being with those who are young, bright, happy, careless, and original.I am surprised at your description of them. They appeared to me to be very pleasant and nice. One of them—Charley Parker—was anxious to go on the stage.

Did you call him "Charley?"—Yes.

Was it a good dinner?—I forget the menu. It was Kettner's best. I entertained Mr. Taylor and his friends in a private room. I should think that was in March, 1893.

The first evening?—Yes.

Did you give them an intellectual treat?—They seemed deeply impressed. (Laughter.)

During the dinner did you become more intimate with "Charley" than with the others ?—Oh, yes.

Did he call you "Oscar?"—Oh, yes. I told him to. I like to be called either "Oscar" or "Mr. Wilde." I put him at his ease at once.

Did you give them plenty of champagne?—I gave them whatever they wanted to drink. There was no particular kind of drink.

Did you give this valet plenty to drink?—Not an inordinate quantity of drink. They were served the same as I was. I did not stint them. What gentleman would?

No, what gentleman would stint a valet—I strongly object to that sort of question.

After dinner did you say to Charley, "This is the boy for me?"—No. I went back to the Savoy. I did not take him with me. I did not drive him to the Savoy Hotel. I was staying there, my wife being in Italy.

Did you give Charley iced champagne? Is that a favourite drink of yours?—Yes; strongly against my doctor's orders. I did not give him any money at Kettner's. At no time did he ever come to the Savoy. I saw him afterwards, and it was not until the month of December, 1893, that I gave him any money.

Did you ask Taylor what these young men were?—No. It was sufficient for me to know that they were friends of his. Parker told me that his desire was to go on to the stage, but what the ambition of the others was I do not know. Taylor did not tell me that he met them in the St. James's Restaurant. I had rooms in St. James's-place from October, 1893, to March, 1894, and Parker came there to tea perhaps five or six times. I liked his society. I gave him a Christmas present—not a chain or ring, I gave him a cigarette-case.

Did you give him money ?—Yes, I gave him about £3 or £4. He was hard up and asked me to assist him. Nothing particular occurred on that occasion. He merely had his tea, smoked, and enjoyed himself.

What was there in common between you and a young man in the position of this young man ?—Well, I will tell you. I delight in the society of men younger than myself. I like those who may be glad, young, and careless. I recognise no social distinctions of any kind between them and myself, and to me the mere fact of youth is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than be cross-examined in Court even. (Laughter.)

Then do I understand that even a young boy whom you picked up off the street would be a pleasing companion to you?—Oh, I would talk to a street arab with pleasure.

And take him into your rooms ?—Be it so; yes, if he interested me. Parker has lunched with me at the Café Royal, but I have never called upon Charley Parker.

Have you ever written him a beautiful letter?—I do not think that I have ever written Parker a beautiful letter.

Have you any letters from him?—I think there is one.

Will you give it to me?

Sir E. Clarke—After the way in which my learned friend has spoken of this young man, I should like you, my Lord, and the Jury, to see that letter.

Mr. Carson—Yes, the Jury can see it, and, as Parker will be in the box; they can see him too.

Cross-examination continued—I did not visit Parker at 60, Park-walk, Chelsea, in March or April of last year at midnight.

Is his house 10 minutes' walk from Tite-street?—I do not know. I never walk. (Laughter.)

You never walk?—Never.

Then, I suppose, in paying your visits, you would go in a cab?—Yes.

And in paying those visits you would leave the cab outside the door?—Yes, certainly, if it was a good cab. I do not think that I have seen Parker since February of last year. I have heard that he has gone into the Army as a driver. I read in a newspaper that he and Taylor were arrested. I was very much distressed about it, but the Magistrate took a different view and dismissed the case. It made no difference in our acquaintanceship. I wrote to him and he wrote back to me, but I have not got his letter. Taylor came to my house on Tuesday last. I knew Fred Atkins first in 1892. He told me that he was connected with bookmakers. I was introduced to him in the rooms of the gentleman whose name you handed to me yesterday. I have never asked him to dinner or lunch. I have met him at a dinner given by the gentleman referred to—I think at Kettner's. Taylor was there. I became friendly with him at that time. I called him "Fred" and he called me "Oscar." He told me that he had neglected his business.

Did he seem to you to be an idle kind of fellow?—Oh yes, he seemed to have the charm of idleness, with an ambition to go on the music-hall stage.

Did you think him charming?—I thought he was very pleasant.

Did you discuss literature with him?—No, I would not allow him to do so.

That was not his line?—No, the art of music-halls was as far as he had got. (Laughter.)

In reply to further questions, the witness said that Atkins never lunched with him at the Café Royal, though he met him afterwards at lunch with the gentleman who had been referred to. At the suggestion of that gentleman he took Atkins to Paris, where he was going on business, as the gentleman was unable to go until two days later, and Atkins was disappointed at the possible brevity of the holiday. They remained in Paris about a fortnight, going by the Club train, and Atkins's fare was repaid to bim by the gentleman in question. Atkins did not act as his secretary, and went to Paris merely for his own pleasure. They stayed in the Boulevard des Capucines. He took Atkins to the Café Jullien, and paid for his lunch.

After lunch did you suggest to him that he should have his hair curled?—No, I told him that I thought it would be very unbecoming. He suggested it himself.

And you were of opinion that it would be unbecoming?—That was my opinion, which I have never changed.

You thought he looked better without his hair curled?—Yes, it was silly of him. It did not suit him. (Laughter.) I should have been very angry with him if he had done it. I should have been very much annoyed.

Did he get it curled?—I do not think so—not to my recollection. I saw him at dinner.

You gave him an excellent dinner?—Yes.

Plenty of wine?—Why will you ask me that question. Nobody who dines at my table is stinted in wine.

Did you give him a sovereign to go to the Moulin Rouge?—Yes. I went to a French theatre, and when I came back Atkins was in bed. The other gentleman joined us on Wednesday, we having come to Paris on Monday. Shortly after our return to London I wrote to the gentleman and asked him to bring Atkins. I was ill in bed. They both came to see me, and I thought it was very kind of them to come. I afterwards sent him tickets for my theatre and went to see him at his house in Osnaburgh-street. I gave him £3 15s. to buy his first song on the music-hall stage. He told me that poets who wrote for the music-hall stage never took less. (Laughter.)

Did you consider him a moral, respectable young man?—I don't know about respectability. He was a very pleasant, good-natured fellow. I encouraged him, and as he was going on the music-hall stage I bought him a song and went to tea in his rooms in order that I might hear him sing.

The witness, continuing, said that he was introduced to Ernest Scarfe in 1893 by Taylor. He was about 20 years of age. At the time he was doing nothing, but had previously been in Australia. He was not aware that Scarfe also had been a valet, or that his father was a valet. He was a nice, pleasant young man. He did not meet Scarfe in society, but Scarfe was in his (Mr. Wilde's) and Taylor's society. Taylor informed him that Scarfe met Lord Douglas of Hawick while on a voyage to Australia. Scarfe had dined with him. He asked him to do so because he (Mr. Wilde) was very good- natured, and it was one of the best ways of pleasing a person not in one's own social position to ask him to dine. He never gave Scarfe any money, but he gave him a cigarette-case. It was his custom to do that. He had given a great many cigarette-cases as presents. He first knew Sidney Mavor in September, 1892. He was about 25 years old. He was introduced by the gentleman to whom reference had already been made. He had not heard from him for 18 months. Perhaps he did give him a cigarette-case. He gave people cigarette cases because he liked them. He thought a month's knowledge was quite sufficient to enable him to express admiration or liking for a person. Mavor had stayed with him at the hotel in Albemarle-street as a companion for pleasure and amusement. He paid for the man's entertainment, and had dined with him several times. Walter Grainger was a servant at some rooms in High-street, Oxford. He was about 16 years old. He waited at table. He was a particularly plain boy—ugly, in fact. He mentioned that fact because of the insolent question that counsel put to him. Counsel insulted and stung and almost unnerved him by his repeated insolent questions, and there was some excuse if he appeared to answer flippantly. When he went to Goring, Grainger was brought down as under-butler. The boy had asked him to find him a place, and he acted in the matter only out of kindness. He stayed at the Savoy Hotel when his wife was out of town, but never had any boys waiting on him there or in Paris.

Re-examined by Sir E. Clarke—The letters produced were written by Lord Queensberry, and were communicated to him (Mr. Wilde) by the persons who received them with one exception. It was from them that he learned of Lord Queensberry's objection to his intimacy with his son.

Sir E. Clarke read and put in the letters. The first, which was dated April 1, from Parker's Hotel, in Albemarle-street, was addressed by Lord Queensberry to Lord Alfred Douglas. In it Lord Queensberry expressed his pain at having to write in such a strain, and declared that any answer must be delivered in person, as, after "your present hysterically impertinent ones" he declined to read any more letters. "Having had to leave Oxford in disgrace to yourself, the reasons of which were fully explained to me by your tutor, you are now loafing and loling about, doing nothing." The letter afterwards went on to say that Lord Queensberry utterly "declined to supply you with sufficient funds just to enable you to loaf," and added, "You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be most cruel and wrong for me to encourage you in this." Then came a reference to "your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde." "I am not going," he wrote, "to try to analyse this intimacy, and I make no charge, but my mind to pose as a thing is as bad as to be it." "No wonder people are talking as they are. I hear, on good authority, that his wife is petitioning to divorce him." It further stated :— "If I thought the actual thing was true, and it becomes public property, I should be quite justified in shooting him at sight. These Christian English cowards, and men, as they call themselves, want waking up." This letter was signed, "Your disgusted and so-called father, QUEENSBERRY."

Sir E. Clarke—Is there any truth in the statement about the petition for divorce?— There is not the slightest foundation for the statement.

Sir E. Clarke then began to read the second letter to Lord Alfred Douglas. It was dated April 3, and began :—"You impertinent young jackanapes, I request that you will not send such messages to me by telegraph."

Mr. Carson—Read the telegram from Lord Alfred Douglas to his father.

Sir E. Clarke—Certainly.

The telegram was handed in, and was as follows:— "To Queensberry, Parker's Hotel, Albemarle-street—What a funny little man you are.—ALFRED DOUGLAS."

Sir E. Clarke—In the second letter addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas the defendant said that his son's reputation has accounted for a good deal that had happened, and that if he caught him again with "that man" he would make a public scandal of what was at present only a suppressed one. He also threatened to cut off Lord Alfred's allowance. If the defendant was quite certain of the thing he would shoot the fellow on sight, but he (defendant) could only accuse him of posing. He did not believe Wilde would dare defy him. He plainly showed the white feather the other day when the defendant tackled him. In another letter to his son, which began, "You miserable creature," Lord Queensberry said that he had given instructions to tear up all future letters from Lord Alfred, and referred to the "horrible brute" to whom Lord Alfred had fallen a prey. He expressed sorrow for him as a human creature, who must, however, be allowed to "gang his ain gait." It depended upon himself whether his father would recognise him again after his behaviour. He made allowances for him as he thought he was demented, and was therefore sorry for him.

Having regard to the contents of those letters, did you or did you not think it right to disregard the wish referred to?—I thought it right to entirely disregard it.

And your friendship with Lady Queensberry and her sons has continued to the present time?—Yes. It was not true that "Dorian Gray" was purged or toned down for the English market. In consequence of what Mr. Pater said to him he modified one passage in the book. He first knew Alfred Taylor in October, 1892. He was introduced to him by the gentleman whose name had been written. That gentleman was of high position, good birth, and repute. He last saw him about February or March, 1894, but he was not available for the purposes of the trial. He knew that Taylor had lost a great deal of money in business. He was educated at Marlborough School, and played the piano very charmingly. He had no reason to believe that Taylor was an immoral or disreputable person. With regard to the arrest, Taylor wrote him that he had been given a ticket for a private benefit, at which he was to play the piano, and two music-hall singers in costume were to appear. They were, however, not in the house at the time the police came in and arrested everyone present. There was no impression left in his mind as to Taylor's impropriety. The suggestion was monstrous. John Lane, the publisher of his works, introduced him to Shelley. He afterwards talked to the young man, who had good literary taste. He saw him when he went from time to time to the house while his books were being printed, as he was often the only person in charge. In February, 1892, "Lady Windermere's Fan" was produced, and he gave Shelley a ticket for the performance. He gave him also some of his books, because Shelley admired his works. After his return from Paris Shelley dined with him and Mrs.Wilde at their house in Tite-street. He was in every way a gentleman.

Sir E. Clarke read several letters from Shelley, complaining of poverty and ill-health, and asking for pecuniary assistance.

Witness identified the letter, and said that in response he gave the man £5.

Was there ever any relation between you and Edward Shelley other than that you have described as the relation between a man of letters and a person who admired his poetry and works, and who had been brought into contact with you?—Never, on any occasion. With regard to the boy Conway he became a great friend of my sons, and went out almost every day with us and our friends. My wife met him on many occasions. Woods I first saw in January, 1893, at the Café Royal. I only saw him once at Taylor's house—on the occasion of the letters. There waa no actual introduction, but whilst at Salisbury I was asked by Lord Alfred Douglas if I could find the man something to do. He was out of employment, and was anxious to obtain a clerkship. As to Charles Parker and his brother, I had no idea whatever what their occupation had been. It was represented to me that their father was a man of means.

When they were introduced to you had you any reason for suspecting that they were disreputable persons?—None whatever. Nothing came to my knowledge tending in any way to destroy their characters. I knew that Charles Parker was arrested on a certain charge, and that the case was dismissed by the magistrates. I never saw Charles Parker at the Savoy Hotel, and I have never in my life been at 7, Camera-square, or at 50, Park-walk.

How was it that after the interview with Lord Queensberry on the 30th of June, and these further letters coming to your knowledge, you took no steps against him?—It was on account of the strong pressure put on me by the Queensberry family.

Did you, early in July, have an interview with a member of Parliament?—Yes; on the Wednesday following the Saturday on which Lord Queensberry's visit to my house occurred. This member of Parliament was a member of Lord Queensberry's family.

Mr. Carson, with the permission of the Judge (over-ruling an objection by Sir E. Clarke), read the following postcard, addressed by Lord A. Douglas to Lord Queensberry:—"As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write on a postcard. I write to inform you that I treat your absurd threats with absolute indifference. Ever since your exhibition at O.W.'s house I have made a point of appearing with him at many public restaurants, such as the Berkeley, Willis's Booms, the Café Royal, &c, and I shall continue to go to any of these places whenever I choose, and with whom I choose. I am of age and my own master; you have disowned me at least a dozen times, and have very meanly deprived me of money. You have, therefore, no right over me, either legal or moral. If O. W. was to prosecute you in the criminal courts for libel you would get seven years' penal servitude for your outrageous libels. Much as I detest you, I am anxious to avoid this for the sake of the family; but if you try to assault me I shall defend myself with a loaded revolver, which I always carry; and if I shoot you, or if he shoots you, we should be completely justified, as we should be acting in self-defence against a violent and dangerous rough, and I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.—A.D."

Sir E. Clarke—At this stage of the case that is the evidence for the prosecution, my Lord.

Mr. Carson—At this stage of the case? We take it that the prosecutor's case is closed. He must make his whole case now.

Sir E. Clarke—Subject to this—that evidence may be given which it may be necessary for my client to rebut.

Mr. Justice Collins—It may be that evidence will be sprung upon you. Of course I shall reserve my discretion as to the evidence I shall allow you to submit at any future stage.

Mr. Wilde then left the box, and almost immediately left the Court.

Mr. Carson then opened the case for the defence. He declared at the outset that, so far as Lord Queensberry was concerned, in every letter he had written and in the charge he had made against Mr. Oscar Wilde, and which had put him into his present position, he withdrew nothing. He had determined at all risks and all hazards to try and save his son. Whether he was right or whether he was wrong the Jury probably now to some extent had information upon which to found a judgment. He (the learned counsel) must claim for Lord Queensberry that, notwithstanding the many elements of prejudice which the prosecution had introduced against him, his conduct in this respect had been absolutely consistent all through, and if the statements which he had made in his letter as to Mr. Wilde's reputation and acts were correct, not only was he justified in doing what he could to put an end to the disastrous acquaintance which existed between Mr. Wilde and his son, but he was bound to take every step which suggested itself to him to bring about at once such an inquiry as would lead to the acts and deeds of Mr. Wilde being made public. According to the case as presented on behalf of Mr. Wilde, there was no personal quarrel or dispute of any kind between Lord Queensberry and the prosecutor, and the only motive the former had in the course he had taken had been to save his son from this intimacy. Mr. Wilde's character was made known to Lord Queensberry in the first place by his writings, and, secondly, in connection with the Savoy Hotel. He could not fail to notice the character which a man in Mr. Wilde's position must have earned for himself when he was leading the kind of life to a portion of which—and only a small portion of which—he had confessed in the witness-box. Mr. Wilde had been going about with young men who were not his co-equals in station or his co-equals in age. He had been associated with men who, it would be proved, he thought, before the case concluded, were some of the worst characters in London. He referred, above all, to Taylor, a notorious character, as the police would tell them. He (the learned counsel) had put a question to Mr. Wilde as to whether Taylor's house was not a den of infamy of the worst description, but notwithstanding this suggestion, and although no longer ago than Tuesday last Taylor was found in company with Mr. Wilde in Tite-street, the prosecution did not venture to put the man into the box. Taylor had been found in company with Parker, who, with a number of other notorious characters, had been arrested on suspicion. His learned friend had said that Parker was acquitted. Yes; but the police did not act in this way without very grave reason, and when Taylor was found associating with him, and it was given in evidence that Taylor was practically the right-hand man of Mr. Wilde in all his orgies with "artists" and valets, at least it might be expected that an opportunity would be given for cross-examining him. Taylor was the pivot of this case. When they had heard the various witnesses, and when, one after another, these were compelled to speak as to the conduct of Oscar Wilde, surely the man- who introduced those persons to Wilde was the man who, above all others, could have thrown light upon the object of such introductions. Taylor was the man best fitted to bear out Mr. Wilde's innocence of the charges made in the plea of justification, but yet he was not, and would not, be produced. A certain name had been written down. When it was convenient to mention anybody that name was mentioned by Mr. Wilde because the man was out of the country; but Taylor was in the country. Taylor was still Mr. Wilde's friend, nothing having happened, as the prosecutor said, to interrupt the friendship. Then why was not Taylor produced? Evidence would be given as to the life this man led; as to the extraordinary den he kept in College-street, with the curtains always drawn, with luxurious hangings to the windows, gorgeous and luxurious furniture, and a perpetual change of varied perfumes—where daylight was never admitted, the only illumination being the shaded light of candles, lamps, or gas. When they heard the extraordinary way Taylor kept his rooms, together with a description of the extraordinary company that there assembled at the innocent afternoon tea parties, the Jury, he thought, would come to the conclusion that he was right when he said that Taylor was the pivot in the case upon which the true relations of Mr. Wilde with various persons must be estimated. As to the high ground taken up by Mr. Wilde—who did not write for "Philistines" or "the illiterate," but only as an artist for artists—there was the greatest contrast between his books and the way he chose his friends. He took up with gentlemen's servants and a newspaper boy, his case no longer being that he was dwelling in the regions of Art (which no one understood but himself and the artist), but that he had such a magnanimous, noble, and democratic soul that he drew no social distinctions, and it gave him exactly the same pleasure to have the sweeping-boy from the streets to lunch or dine with him as the best educated artist or the greatest littérateur in the Kingdom. Mr. Wilde's positions were absolutely irreconcilable. If the defence had rested the case on Mr. Wilde's literature alone they would have been absolutely justified in the course they had taken. The learned counsel then referred at some length to the character of the literary matter in the Chameleon, arguing that the same idea, often similar phrases, ran through that and the two letters written to Lord Alfred Douglas, which had been read in Court—letters which Mr. Wilde described as beautiful, but which he (the learned counsel) considered simply disgusting. The same idea was to be found in "Dorian Gray." The poem written by Lord Alfred Douglas and published in the Chameleon showed the result of the "artistic" education the young man had received, and the domination of Mr. Oscar Wilde over him. No father would be likely to regard such a production on the part of his son without a feeling of horror. Having referred to the manner in which the two letters written by Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas had been brought to the front, Mr. Carson said that the man Wood, who was one of the College-street lot, had received £21 from Mr. Wilde, and had been shipped off to America. Probably Mr. Wilde hoped the man would never be heard of again in this country. But he was here; the Jury would have him examined before them. The learned counsel here incidentally remarked that Mr. Beerbohm Tree had cabled from America with reference to the introduction of his name into the case.

Mr. Justice Collins said there was not the slightest ground for suggesting anything against Mr. Tree.

Mr. Carson said that gentleman had acted throughout exactly as he ought to have done.

Mr. Justice Collins—With perfect propriety.

Mr. Carson went on to comment further upon the letters written to Lord Alfred Douglas by Mr. Wilde, declaring that if the Jury accepted the statement that either of the epistles was written as a sonnet to be published he envied them their credulity. The sonnet or prose-poem theory had been invented as a way out of a difficulty, and it was an extraordinary thing that the only letter Mr. Wilde had ever written which he was able to describe as a sonnet was one which had become known to the public. It was also an extraordinary thing that Mr. Wilde should have taken up his residence at the Savoy Hotel whilst his wife was away in Italy, having regard to the facts which he had himself stated that it entailed an outlay of £45 per week, and that he was short of money and without credit.

The learned counsel had not concluded his address when the Court rose.

Lord Queensberry was again admitted to bail on his own recognisances.

Speaks of Perfumed Rooms and Cosy Tea Parties, of Trips to Paris, of Costly Presents and Dinners where the Wine was not Stinted.

If the Wilde-Queensberry case does no other good it will at least have encouraged a very large number of people in the healthy habit of early rising. Before the work of the day actually commenced this morning there were those who envied the Marquess his comfortable quarters in the dock. The crowd was mainly composed of people of no importance, and was exclusively male. A doubtless distinguished, but unrecognisable Mongolian visitor was permitted to sit on the bench at the judge's right hand, and on his left was an unusually large detachment of aldermen. Oscar slipped in quietly by a side door, and pending the arrival of his legal representatives sat admiring his fleshy hands. Presently Mr. Charles Mathews, his junior counsel, arrived, and the two put their heads together for an earnest whispered consultation. The jury meanwhile arrived themselves with the morning papers. There was a moment's sensation, and much craning of necks and goggling of inquisitive eyes when a whisper went round that

LORD ALFRED DOUGLAS WAS IN COURT.

Simultaneously the noble defendant, clad in a dark blue overcoat with velvet collar, in place of the rusty black garment of yesterday, was admitted to the dock, and sat there quietly till Mr. Justice Collins arrived, when he returned his old pose, with arms folded on the dock front.

Punctually at half-past ten Oscar was recalled to the witness-box. Bland and attentive, his hands limply crossed and drooping, or clasped round his brown suède gloves, he awaited the resumption of Mr. Carson's cross-examination. First the Irish Q. C. reverted to the prosecutor's acquaintance with Taylor of the missing letters. Taylor lived at 13, Little College-st., and Oscar had visited him there and at chambers in the Adelphi, besides having him at his own house at Tite-st. The Little-College-st. establishment did not strike him as too elaborate or luxurious. They were " pretty room, " displaying more taste then is common.

Mr. Carson: He never admitted any daylight into the rooms, did he?

Witness: Oh yes.

Were they not always lighted either with candles or gas? - No, I think not.

Then it would not be true to suggest that there were double curtains to the rooms and the daylight was never admitted? - Most untrue. I should think.

Were the rooms strongly perfumed? - I don't know how you mean, now. Perfume? Yes;

WE USED TO BURN PERFUME.

He was in the habit of burning perfume as I am in my rooms.

Did you see Wood there at tea? - Only on the one occasion.

Did you see Sidney Mavor, a friend of yours, there? - Yes.

How old is he? - I should think 25 or 26.

Is he still a friend of yours? - I have not seen him for, I should think, a year. I have not the remotest idea where he is now.

Do you know where he has gone? - I don't know at all.

Do you know he has disappeared within the last week? - No. Taylor wrote him a letter asking him to call at his rooms, but I have not seen him.

Oscar rather resented the suggestion that he had been trying to find Mavor. No one waited on them when they were at tea at Taylor's. He was quite sure he had never seen Taylor in a lady's costume, and it was not true that in 1892 and 1893 he was constantly communicating with Taylor by telegram.

Was he a literary man? - I have never seen any creative work of his. He had great taste and intelligence, and was brought up at a good English public school.

It was another case, Oscar added, of the young men enjoying a literary treat in his conversation.

THEY HAD DINED TOGETHER,

at the Florence, in Rupert-st. and at the Solferino, always in private rooms. On 7 March, 1893 he telegraphed to Taylor to meet him at the Savoy. That was for the purpose of discussing Wood's intention of blackmailing Oscar in regard to the letters stolen from Lord Alfred Douglas. There was another telegram inviting Taylor to join Oscar and "Fred" at a little dinner. "Fred was a young man to whom I was introduced by a gentleman whose name I do not wish to have introduced into the case."

What was his other name? - Atkins.

You were very familiar with him? - I don't know what you mean. I liked him.

Oscar denied that he had ever known that Taylor was being watched by the police, but he knew Taylor and a man named Parker were arrested in a raid made last year on a house in Fitzroy-sq. He knew Parker. He had met him at Chapel-st.

Was not Taylor notorious for introducing young men to older men? - I never heard that in my life.

How many young men did he introduce to you - young men with whom you afterwards became intimate? - You mean friendly. I should think about five.

Were they all about 20 years of age? - Twenty to 22. I liked the society of young men.

Lord Queensberry

BROKE INTO A BROAD GRIN

at this, and for a moment relaxed his fixed stare at the witness to gaze round the court as though inviting attention to this answer.

Oscar continued that he had given money or presents to all five of these young men, none of whom appeared to have any employment or means. He said he had no knowledge that Charles Parker was a gentleman's servant out of employ.

If he had been such, would you have been friendly with him? - I would be friendly with any human being that I liked.

How old is he? - I do not know. (Oscar became petulant.) I do not keep the census. He may have been 15, 20, 25. I never asked him.

Was he a literary man? - Oh, no !

Was he an educated man? - Culture was not his strong point. (Laughter.)

There was a little dinner at Kettner's in Soho, to which Oscar invited Taylor on his birthday, to bring any friends he liked. He brought Charlie Parker and his brother.

Did you know one was a gentleman's valet and the other a gentleman's groom? - I did not know nor should I have cared, sir.

What pleasure had you in the company of men like them? - The pleasure of being with those who are

YOUNG, BRIGHT, HAPPY, FAIR.

I don't like the sensible, and I don't like the old. I do-not-like-either. (Oscar became almost emphatic.)

It was a good dinner, they had whatever they wanted, Kettner's best fare and Kettner's best wine.

Did you give them an intellectual treat? - They seemed deeply interested.

You did not stint them? - What gentleman would stint his guests.

What gentleman would stint a valet? - I strongly object to the description.

Oscar denied that after dinner he said of Charlie Parker, "This is the boy for me," or that they went together to the Savoy Hotel, or that any kind of impropriety occurred. He denied that he gave the lad £2, or that he forced champagne or whisky and soda upon him. "At no time," he said, "did Parker come to the Savoy." They called one another "Charlie" and "Oscar." "I like those I like to call me 'Oscar,'" the prosecutor said. A week later there was another little dinner at Kettner's. It did not appear that it was anybody's birthday this time and "Charlie" came alone.

Did you ask Taylor what those young men were? - It was sufficient for me that they were friends of Taylor's Parker himself told me he was anxious

TO GO ON THE STAGE.

No, Taylor did not tell me he had met them in the St. James's Restaurant. Parker came to Tite-st. to tea five or six times, and also visited Oscar in his rooms at St. James's-place.

What was he doing there? - Visiting me. I liked his society.

Parker, like the others, received presents, and asked for money when he was hard up. Oscar gave him £3.

All at once? - Yes! - all-at-once.

What was he doing? - You ask me what a young man does when he comes to tea! He has his tea, he smokes cigarettes, and I hope he enjoys himself.

What was there in common between you and this young man? - Well, I will tell you. I delight in the society of those much younger than myself. I like those who may be called idle and careless. I recognise no social distinctions at all of any kind. The mere fact is that youth is so wonderful I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than even be cross-examined in court. (Laughter.) Yes, I would talk to street arab with pleasure.

Sir Edward Clarke so little liked the tone of the cross-examination that he handed up to the judge a letter of Parker's, to show that he was not so illiterate as Mr. Carson dryly reported that the jury would presently have an opportunity of seeing Parker himself.

Oscar denied that he had visited Parker at 60. Park-walk, Chelsea, st. half-past twelve at night. He knew where Park-walk was, but it was not near Tite-st. - It was "quite far away."

How far to walk? -

AH! I NEVER WALK.

How long to drive? - I have no idea.

Oscar did not know what had become of Parker. He had heard that he had enlisted as a private in the Army. He read of the arrest of Taylor and Parker in the newspapers in August of last year.

Did you read that they were in the company of several men in women's clothes? - Oscar "only knew what he had read in papers," but his impression was that the men in women's clothes - music hall singers--were arrested outside. He was very much distressed at the intelligence - "but the magistrate seems to have taken a different view, for he dismissed the case."

Mr. Carson read out a list of the accused in the Fitzroy-sq. raid, and asked, "Did you never hear of Preston in connection with the Cleveland-st. scandals?"

No, said Oscar, he had never heard of him, and he did not know that another man arrested at this time was a man of notoriously evil life. The crowd made no difference in his living for Taylor and Parker, and Taylor was at his house as recently as Tuesday last.

When did you first know Freddy Atkins? - In November, 1892.

What is he? - He was in the employ of a firm of bookmakers.

You did not come in contact with him through

MAKING BETS?

- Oh, no !

How old was he? - I should think about 19 or 20 - a young man.

Where were you introduced? - In the rooms of the gentleman whose name you handed up to me yesterday.

Tell me the address? - They were in rooms off Regent-st. - I think in Margaret-st. - I can't remember the number.

Was anyone else present? - Yes, I think there were several people there.

Two days afterwards there was a dinner at Kettner's, quite a small party, and they became friendly enough to call one another "Oscar" and "Freddie."

You say he was in the employ of a bookmaker? - Yes, and he apologised for neglecting his business.

Did he seem an idle kind of fellow? - Yes! Oh, yes! He seemed idle. With ambition to go to the music-hall stage.

Did you discuss literature with him? - No! oh, no! I would not allow that! The art of the music hall was as far a he had got.

Did you ask him to go to Paris with you? - No. Oscar had to enter into a long explanation to show that although he did take " Freddie " to Paris, the suggestion came from

THE MYSTERIOUS GENTLEMAN

whose name was handed up in writing yesterday. It was not an Oscar's secretary that he went--the suggestion was childish! They shared the same rooms at 23, Boulevard des Capucines - three rooms on suite, two of which were bedrooms. They lunched at the Café Julian.

After lunch did you suggest to him to have his hair curled? - No, I told him I thought it would be very unbecoming. He suggested it. Did he get his hair curled? - I don't think so. I should have been very angry if he had. (Laughter.)

Annoyed at your guest-getting his hair curled? - I should have thought it very silly.

They afterwards dined together, and Mr. Carson suggested that it was a good dinner with plenty of wine. Oscar was vexed and hurt. He hoped he should never stint a guest of wine, "but if you ask me whether I plied him with wine such a suggestion is monstrous. I won't have it!"

Mr. Carson said he had not made the "monstrous" suggestion. "Ah, but you have before, you have before! Yes"! Oscar reproached him. After dinner he gave the lad a guinea to go to the Moulin Rouge - "Moolong Rooje," as Mr. Carson called it. A laugh went round, and he apologised to the Court." I believe

I PRONOUNCED IT WRONG,"

he said: 'tis the "Moolang Ruge."

Mr. Wilde continued that any suggestion that impropriety occurred during the Paris trip would be an infamous lie. He denied that he asked Atkins to say nothing about the trip to Paris. At the time Freddy was living in Pimlico. He now lives at 25, Osnaburgh-st. He gave Freedy £3 15s. to pay for his first song. "He told me," said Oscar, "that the poets who write for the music-hall stage never take less."

Mr. Carson passed on to the case of another young man, Ernest Scarth, who was also about 20 years of age.

Did you know he, too, had been a valet?

- No.

Was he well educated? - Education depends on what you understand by it. He was a pleasant, nice, good fellow.

It was again Taylor who effected the introduction. He prefaced it by describing Scarth as having met Lord Douglas of Hawick on board ship coming from Australia. Oscar straightway invited both to dine with him. He denied indignantly that he had kissed Scarth or been guilty of improper conduct.

Why did you ask him to dinner? - Because I am very good-natured.

Did you give him any presents? - Oh, yes; I gave him a cigarette case. It is my custom to

PRESENT CIGARETTE CASES.

Returning to the case of Sindey Maher, Mr. Carson found that he was introduced to Oscar by the Nameless Gentleman at Margaret-st. Oscar gave him a cigarette case which cost £4 11s. 5d., and invited him to stay with him at the hotel in Albemarle-st. It was simply for companionship.

He did not stay all night for companionship, did he? - It was for the pleasure of his company during the evening, and we breakfasted together next morning. I like to have people staying with me. It amused and pleased him that I should ask him to be my guest - a very nice charming fellow.

Walter Granger, a lad of 18, servant in the rooms of Lord Alfred Douglas at High-st., Oxford, was the next subject of inquiry, and for the first time Oscar lost his head and made a tactical blunder. "Have you ever kissed this boy?" asked Mr. Carson, and the witness replied, "Oh no! certainly not. A peculiarly plain boy!"

Mr. Carson pounced on this expression instantly, and asked if it was only because the boy was ugly he was not kissed.

For the first time Oscar seemed at a loss and shuffled. He replied, "No, because it seems to me such an intense insult on your part. It seems ridiculous to imagine that any such thing could have occurred."

Mr. Carson repeated. "Then why did you mention his ugliness?"

"I should not like to kiss a boy, " Oscar replied. " Am I to be cross-examined as to the reason I should not like to kiss a boy?"

Mr. Carson, with irritating (**)ration, repeated, "Why mention his ugliness?"

Oscar became positively angry. " Because you sting me by insolent questions!" he said. Then added, "Calmly, I say you sting me, and try to unnerve me in every way, and I say things flippantly that I would not say seriously."

Then that was a flippant answer? - Oh, that, anything ! Yes. I should my certainly

A FLIPPANT ANSWER.

Mr. Carson was satisfied, and passed on to occurrences at the Savoy Hotel. Oscar had been under the treatment of a masseur named Midgen at the hotel, but he denied that he had taken boys there.

At half-past twelve the cross-examination came to a somewhat sudden termination, and Sir Edward Clarke rose to re-examine.

First sir Edward read three letters from Lord Queensberry to Lord Alfred Douglas and other members of his family which preceded the alleged libel. The first was a letter dated Sunday, 1 April, from Carter's Hotel, Albemarle-st. It began, " Alfred,--it is extremely painful to me to have to write to you in the terms I must." and said Lord Alfred must understand that no answers in writing would be received, or if received would be burnt unread. "After your previous hysterically impertinent one, I refuse to be annoyed with such, and must ask you, if you have anything to say to me to come here and say it in person." His lordship asked if he was to understand that his son, having

LEFT OXFORD IN DISGRACE,

and fallen away from his intention to enter the Civil Service or the Foreign Office, intended to take up any other serious line of life, as "I decline to supply you with funds to loaf and loll. You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be (***) and wrong of me to encourage you in this. Secondly, I come to the more painful part of this letter--your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde must cease, or I will disown you and stop all supplies.... I am not going to analyze this intimacy and I make no accusations; but, to my mind, to pose as a thing is as bad as to be the real thing. With my own eyes I saw you both in the most loathsome and disgusting relationship as expressed by your manner and expression. Never in my experience have I ever seen such a sight as that in your horrible features. . . . I hear, on good authority, that his wife is going to divorce him on grounds of unnatural crimes. Is this right, and if so do you know of it, going about as you do with him? If I thought the actual thing was true, and it becomes public property, I should be quite justified in

SHOOTING HIM AT SIGHT

- Your disgusted and so-called father, QUEENSBERRY."

In reply to this, Lord Alfred telegraphed:- "To Lord Queensberry, Carter's Hotel, Albemarle-street, - What a funny little man you are."

Lord Queensberry's retort was another letter beginning:- "To Lord Alfred Douglas, - You impertinent young jackanapes! I request you will not send me such messages through the telegraph. If you come to me with any of your impertinence, I shall give you the thrashing you richly deserve. The only excuse for you is that you must be crazy. I heard from a man who was at Oxford with you that this was your reputation there. It accounts a good deal for what has happened. If I catch you with that man again, I will make a public scandal in a way you little dream of. Unless it ceases, I shall carry out my threat and stop all supplies. So you know what to expect. - Queensberry."

The next letter was written by Lord Queensberry from Skindles to Mr. Alfred Montgomery, the

FATHER OF LORD QUEENSBERRY

divorced. Among much that was incoherent, Lord Queensberry said: "Your daughter is the person who is supporting my son to defy me. I have had a very quibbling, prevaricating message from her saying the boy denied having been to the Savoy for the last year. Why send it at all unless he denies ever having stayed at the Savoy at all with Oscar Wilde? As a fact he did do so, and there has been a hideous scandal. I was told they were warned off. This hideous scandal has been going on for years. I don't want to make out a case against my son, nothing of the kind, but I have made out a case against Oscar Wilde. If I were quite certain of the actual thing I would shoot the fellow at sight. But I am only accusing him of posing, and for that I will chastise him and mark him. I don't believe Wilde will now dare to defy me. He plainly showed the white feather the other day, the damned cur and coward! He is no son of mine. His mother may support him, but she shall not do it in London and with this going on. The Rosebery-Gladstone-Royal insult which came to me through my other son came to me through her. I thought it was you, but it appears it was not. . . . I saw Drumlanrig here on the river last night, which much upset me.

ROSEBERY NOT ONLY INSULTED

me by lying to the Queen, which she knows, and makes her as bad as him, but Gladstone also has made a lifelong quarrel between my son and me."

The last letter was written from Scotland to Lord Alfred Douglas. If Lord Alfred really were his son, Lord Queensberry wrote, how right he had been to face any outcry or ignominy rather than run the risk of bringing any more such creatures into the world! When Lord Alfred was quite a baby Lord Queensberry had looked upon him in his cradle and wept the bitterest tears a man could shed at thinking he had brought such a creature into the world. In this Christian country it was a wise father who knew his own son. there was madness on the mother's side, and few families in this Christian country were without it if they could be looked into. "I make allowances; I think you are demented; and I am very sorry for you. No wonder you have

FALLEN A PREY

to that horrible brute. You must gang your ain gait."

Mr. Wilde first denied in emphatic terms that there was any truth in the story that his wife was seeking a divorce. He added that the letters which had just been read were brought to his knowledge before the libel proceedings were commenced, but, having regard to their character, Mr. Wilde thought it right to entirely disregard the wishes contained in them.

Sir Edward Clarke next spent a lot of time in reading, and then several long extracts from "Dorian Grey," as a set-off to what had been read yesterday.

In continued re-examination by Sir E. Clarke, Mr. Wilde said a lot of the young men whose names had been mentioned had been introduced to him by Alfred Taylor in October, 1892, who was introduced to him by a gentleman of position and repute--the one whose name had been written down and referred to. Taylor was then living at 13, College-st.

Did you know anything as to his means or occupation? I knew that he had

LOST A GREAT DEAL OF MONEY

by some shares. He was a well-educated young man who played the piano, and Wilde from time to time called upon him. Neither at the time when he was introduced to Taylor nor since had he had any reason to believe Taylor was an immoral person. He remembered some few months ago seeing in a newspaper--the Daily Chronicle--a report that a raid had been made on a house in Fitzroy-st. Alfred Parker and Charles Taylor were among the persons arrested there.

Did you gather what they were charged with?

Oh, yes, yes.

What was the charge? - So far as I could gather they were charged with being there for an unlawful purpose.

You were much distressed? - Yes.

He wrote you a letter? Yes, he said it was

A BENEFIT CONCERT

for which he had been given a ticket. Two men came in women's dress to take part in the concert, and the police immediately broke in and arrested everybody in the place.

Was any impression left on your mind that Taylor was at all to blame?

certainly not. I thought it was monstrous.

Sir Edward now turned to the case of Shelley, who, the prosecutor said, had been introduced to him by Mr. John Lane. afterwards he often went to Mathews and Lane's when Shelley was the only person in charge there. They had many literary conversations together. When "Lady Windermere's Fan" was produced Shelley had a ticket from Mr. Wilde.

He was a great admirer of your work? - Yes.

And you gratified his taste by giving him copies of your books. - Yes.

Did you ever write any inscription on the fly-leaf of any of those books (one fly-leaf had been torn out) that you would object to the whole world seeing?

"NEVER IN MY LIFE"

was the emphatic reply.

Oscar said he went to Paris to attend to the production there of "Lady Windermere's Fan," and when he came back Shelley called on him at Tite-st.

The case is proceeding.