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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.

The hearing of the charge against the Marquess of Queensberry of criminally libelling Mr. Oscar Wilde was resumed yesterday at the Central Criminal Court, before Mr. Justice Henn Collins. The defence is a justification of the libel. — The counsel for the prosecution are Sir E. Clarke, Q.C, Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys. Mr. Carson, Q.C, Mr. C. F. Gill, Q.C, and Mr. A. Gill appear for Lord Queensberry ; while Mr. Besley, Q.C, and Mr. Monckton watch the case for Lord Douglas of Hawick, the eldest son ot the Marquess.

Mr. Oscar Wilde entered the court about ten minutes past ten, and the Marquess of Queensberry appeared in the dock as soon as the Judge entered the court.

Mr. Carson at once resumed his cross-examination of Mr. Wilde, who said it was Taylor who arranged the meeting with Wood with reference to the letters. He knew his house in 13, Little Collet-street and had been there seven or eight times.

Used he to do his own cooking ? — I don't know. I never dined there. I don't think he did anything wrong.

I have not suggested that he did ? — Well, cooking is an art (laughter).

Another art! Did he always open the door? — Sometimes he and sometimes any of his friends who might be there.

Were his rooms not rather elaborate for Little Collet-street ? — Yes ; I thought them very pretty rooms.

Were the rooms strongly perfumed ? — I don't know what you mean. He used to burn perfumes just as I do in my rooms.

Just as you do. Did you ever see Wood there ? — No, never, except on the one occasion.

Did you ever see Sidney Maver there ? — Yes. He dined with me a year ago. I have not the remotest idea where he is now.

Has Taylor told you that he had a lady's costume there ? — No, he has never told me so, and I have never heard of it.

You frequently communicated with him by telegraph. Had you any business with him ? — No, none at all. He was a friend of mine.

Was he a literary man ? — He was a young man of great taste and intelligence, and bad been brought up at a very good English public school. I have never seen any created work of his.

I am not talking about that ? — Then what do yon mean by a literary man ?

Did you discuss literature with him ? — He used to listen on the subject.

I suppose that he used to get an intellectual treat also ? — Certainly.

Was he an artist ? — Not in the sense of creating anything. He was extremely intellectual and clever, and I liked him very much.

Used you to get him from time to time to arrange dinners for you to meet young men ? — No. I have dined with him and young men perhaps 10 or 12 times at Solferino's, Kettner's, and the Florence. We usually had a private room, as I prefer dining in private rooms.

Did you send Taylor this telegram : "Could you call at six o'clock. — Oscar, Savoy" ? — Yes. I had received an anonymous letter saying that Alfred Wood was going to blackmail me for certain letters that he had stolen from Lord Alfred Douglas. The matter of my meeting Wood was discussed then.

Who was Fred ? — Fred was a young man to whom I was introduced by the gentleman whose name you handed me yesterday. His other name was Atkins.

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

You told me yesterday that you called persons by their Christian names ? — Always when I like them. If I dislike people I call them something else.

Had you any trouble about Fred ? — Never in my life.

Did you know that Taylor was being watched by the police ? — No, I never heard that.

Do you know that Taylor and Parker were arrested together in a raid made on a house in Fitzroy-square ? — Last year, yes.

Did you know Parker ? — Yes. I do not think that I have seen him at Taylor's rooms, but when Taylor moved to Chapel-street I may have seen him there.

Was not Tayler notorious for introducing young men to older men ? — No ; I have never beard that in my life. He has introduced young men to me.

How many has he introduced to you ? — Do you mean people mentioned in the indictment ?

No. Young men with whom you afterwards became intimate ? — Five or six.

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

Had they any occupation ? — That I really do not know.

To how many of them did you give money ? — I should think to all I gave money and presents.

Did they give you anything ? — Me ? No.

Did Taylor introduce you to Charles Parker ? — Yes; he was one of those I became friendly with.

Was he a gentleman's servant out of employment ? — I have no knowledge of that at all. I never heard it ; nor should I have minded. I should become friendly with any human being that I liked.

How old was he ? — Really, I do not keep a census. He may be about 20. He was young, and that was one of his attractions. I have never asked him his age. I think it vulgar to ask people their age.

Was he a literary character ? — Oh, no.

Was he an educated man ? — Culture was not his strong point (laughter).

Did you ever ask him what his previous occupation was ? — I never inquire into people's pasts.

Nor their futures ?— Ah, that is a public matter.

Where is he now ? — I have not the remotest idea.

How much money did you give Parker ? — I should think altogether 4 or 5.

For what? — Because he was poor. He had no money, and I liked him. What better reason could I have ?

Where did you first meet bim ? — At Kettner's, with Alfred Taylor. His brother was also there.

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

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

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

What enjoyment was it to you to be entertaining grooms and coachmen ? — The pleasure of being with those who are young, bright, happy, careless, and original.

Taylor accepted your invitation by bringing a valet and a groom ? — That is your account, not mine.

Were they persons of that class ? — I am surprised at your description, as they seemed not to have the manners of that class. They spoke of a father at Datchet who was a person of wealth, or not exactly of wealth ; and Charles Parker said that he was anxious to go upon the stage.

Did you call him Charley on the first evening ? — Yes.

Had you a good dinner ? — I forget the mean, but it was Kettner at his best (laughter).

Of course, you did the honours to the groom and the valet in a private room ? — I entertained Mr. Taylor's friends in a private room.

Did you give them also an intellectual treat ? — They were deeply impressed (laughter).

Did Charles Parker call you Oscar ? — Yes. I like to be called either Oscar or Mr. Wilde.

Had they plenty of champagne ? — What gentleman would stint his guests? (laughter).

Mr Carson. — What gentleman would stint the valet and the groom !

Both the Witness and his Counsel objected to this expression.

After dinner did you not, in the presence of Taylor and William Parker, turn to Charles Parker and say, "This is the boy for me ? " — Most certainly not.

In further cross-examination on this point. Witness denied that Parker ever visited him at the Savoy Hotel. He never gave Parker money until December, 1893. He made no inquiry as to the occupation of the Parkers, nor was he told by Taylor that he had met them first in St. James's Restaurant. Charles Parker visited him at his rooms in St. James's-place, and had tea with him five or six times. He had given Parker a silver cigarette case as a Christmas box. He gave him about 3. or 4. When he asked him for it he said he was hard up.

What did you find attractive in a young man of this class? — I like to be in the society of people much younger than myself. I recognise no social distinctions of any kind, and to me youth, the mere fact of youth, is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than even be examined in court (laughter).

Do I understand that even a young boy yon would pick up in the street would be a pleasing companion ? — I would talk to a street arab with pleasure. Charles Parker had no employment during the time I knew him. He had an allowance from his father, of the smallness of which he complained. I knew he lived at 7, Camera-square. He lunched with me at the Cafe Royal and at St. James's-place, and dined with me at Kettner's. We did not have a private room. We went then to the Pavilion, but we did not go back to St. James's-place. I have never been to see him.

Why ? — Well, it really would not have interested me to go to see him ; while it was interesting to him to see me (laughter). Going to see him is a very different thing to coming to see me.

The Witness further said that he had dined with Parker, Taylor, Wood, and others at Solferino's in the January of this year or December of last year. He did not remember Parker leaving Camera-square for 50, Park-walk. He had not written him any beautiful letters, and did not keep any of Parker's letters except one which was produced. This was a letter from Parker asking Mr. Wilde to wire him whether he (Parker) should have the pleasure of dining with him that evening, and was signed "Yours faithfully, CHARLES PARKER."

Sir Edward Clarke. — I think from the tone in which this has been dealt with, that your Lordship had better have the letter, so that you can see what Parker's letter is like.

Mr. Carson. — Never mind that. Parker himself will be in the box, and the Jury will see what he is like.

Did you go to Parkers, at Park-walk, at 12.30 at night in March or April last year ? — No. I do not know how far Park-walk is from Tite-street. I never walk, I always ride. I keep my cab outside when making calls, if it is a good one (laughter). Proceeding, Witness said he believed Parker had enlisted, and he bad seen that both Parker and Taylor were arrested in a police raid on a house where men were dressed in women's clothes. The learned Counsel took the Witness through the names of the men arrested. Witness denied having heard of one of the Prisoners, Sydney Preston, as connected with the Cleveland-street scandals, nor of another as notorious for certain practices.

When you saw that Taylor was arrested in the company of these people, did it make any difference in your feelings towards him? — When I read it I was greatly distressed, and I wrote and told him so. I did not see bim again till this year, but it bas made no difference in my feelings, and he came to my house last Tuesday.

When did you first know Fred Atkins ?— ln October, 1892. He told me tbat he was connected with a firm of bookmakers. I did not come into contact with him through making bets. I met him at a dinner given by the gentleman whose name you wrote down. I think Taylor was there. We called each other by our Christian names at that dinner.

Did he seem to be an idle kind of fellow? — He seemed to have the charm of idleness. He had an ambition to go on the music-hall stage. I thought him very pleasant.

Did he discuss literature with you ? — No. I did not allow him to.

That; was not his line ? — The art of the music hall was as far as he got. On a subsequent Sunday I saw him and the gentleman mentioned lunching at the Cafe Royal, and they came and had their coffee and cigarettes at my table. I intended to go to Paris the next day to arrange for the publication ot a book, and the gentleman, who was also going with Atkins, suggested that we should go together. It was arranged that we should go on the Monday but on that Sunday the gentleman told me that he could not go till Tuesday or Wednesday, and asked me, as Atkins seemed very disappointed at his stay in Paris being shortened, if I would take him over. I said I would with the greatest pleasure.

How long had you known him ? — About a fortnight.

You went to Paris on the 20th of November by the club train ? — Yes. I paid for his ticket, but was afterwards repaid by the gentleman. Atkins did not go in the capacity of my secretary ; it is childish to ask me such a question. I took him to the rooms where I was staying. I did not, after our arrival, ask Atkins to copy out a page of MS. I took Atkins to lunch at the Cafe Julien. He was my guest, and had certainly not the means to pay for a lunch such as I like.

Did you suggest that he should have his hair curled? — No ; he suggested it, and I said that I thought it would be very unbecoming.

Had he got his hair curled ? — I should have been very angry if he had (laughter). It would have been a silly thing to do.

Did he get his hair curled at Pascal's, under the Grand Hotel ? — Not while I was in Paris.

After dinner did you give Atkins a sovereign to go to the Moulin Rouge ? — Yes.

Did the other gentleman whose name has not been disclosed come to Paris two days afterwards ? — He came on Wednesday, and we all three returned together on Saturday.

Shortly after arriving in London, did yon ask Atkins to call at your house in Tite-street ? — I think I wrote to the other gentleman asking him to bring Fred Atkins. I was ill in bed, and they called, I think, together.

Did you ask Atkins to give you back the letter you had written to him ? — No ; I have no recollection of any letter.

Did yon ask him to say nothing about the visit to Paris ? — Certainly not. I thought it the great event of his life, and it was.

You have been in correspondence with Atkins up to the present year ? — I have written to him on several occasions, and have twice sent him tickets for my plays.

What is his present address ? — Osnaburgh-street.

You have been to tea there ? — Yes.

Was there anyone else there at the time ? — Yes. An actor, about 20 years of age.

Did you give Atkins any money ? — 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 take less (laughter).

Was he alone ? — When he came to St. James's-place I think he was accompanied by this young actor. There never were any improprieties between us. I thought him a very pleasant, good-natured fellow, and as he was going on the music-hall stage I bought him a song.

Did you know Ernest Scarfe? — l met him in 1893. Taylor introduced him. He was a young man about 20, and had no occupation ; but had been in Australia. I did not know he bad been a valet, nor do I know he is employed as that now in a situation. He appeared a very pleasant-spoken young man.

Was he educated? — Education depends on one's standard. I never met him in society, certainly not ; bat he has been in my society (laughter). I have seen him with Taylor. Taylor introduced him to me at St. James's-place.

How did he come to bring that young man there ? — Shall I tell you ? He told me he knew a young man who had met on board ship going out to Australia Lord Douglas of Hawick. They had met at a skating rink, and Taylor brought him to see me.

The honour was quite unexpected? — lt was no shock, but I did not expect him. It was in the early afternoon. I made an appointment for them to dine with me on another day. We dined at Kettner's.

Why did you ask him to dinner ? — Because I am very good natured, and because it is one of the best ways of pleasing anyone not of your social position (laughter). I gave him a cigarette case ; it was my habit (laughter). I last saw Scarfe in February, when he dined with me at the Arundel Hotel. He was then employed as a clerk at a place in St. Pauls-churchy-yard.

When did you first know Sidney Maver ? — ln September, 1892. I do not know where he is now. I never gave him any money, nor a cigarette-case.

You deal at a shop in Bond-street, Thornton's ? — Yes.

Did you not tell them to send a cigarette-case, value 4 11 s. 6d., to S. A. Maver ? — Well, if it is there, perhaps I did so. I give people presents, because I like them.

Did you ask him to stay with you at the Albemarle Hotel ?— Yes.

When was that ? — In October, after I had given him the cigarette-case. I was on my way through for Scotland, and I stayed one night there, and he met me at the station when I arrived, and I asked him to stay at the same place. Maver was living at Notting-hill or West Kensington.

Do you know Walter Granger? — Yes, he was a servant at a certain house in High-street, Oxford, and was about 16. They were the rooms of Lord Alfred Douglas, and I have stayed there several times.

Were you on familiar terms with Granger ? Did you have him to dine with you ? — No, he waited at table.

Did you ever kiss him ? — He was a particularly plain boy. He was, unfortunately, very ugly. I pitied him for it.

Do you say that in support of your statement that you never kissed him ? — No : it is such a childish question to ask me.

Did you not give it me as a reason that you never kissed him that he was too ugly ? — Mr. Wilde (warmly) : I did not say that. The question seemed to me merely an intentional insult on your part, such as I have been going through the whole of this morning.

Why did you mention bis ugliness ? lam obliged to ask you these questions. — It is ridiculous to imagine that any such thing could possibly have occurred under any circumstances.

Then why did yon mention his ugliness ? — For that reason. If I was asked why I did not kiss a doorpost, I should say, " Because I do not like to kiss doorposts," and then am I to be cross-examined because I do not like it ?

Why did you mention the boy's ugliness ? — Perhaps yon stung me by an insulting question.

Was that a reason that yon should say that the boy was ugly ? — Pardon me, I say that you sting me and insult me, and try to unnerve me, and at times one says things flippantly when one should speak more seriously. I admit it.

Then you said it flippantly ? That is what you wish to convey now ? — Oh, do not say that I want to convey anything. I have given you my answer.

But is that it ? It was a flippant answer ? — Oh, it was a flippant answer.

(Mr. Wilde showed considerable excitement during this part of the cross-examination.)

In June. 1893, did yon go to Goring ? — Yes, I took The Cottage there. I engaged Granger as under-butler. I deny that I acted improperly towards him.

Did you ever bring any boys into your room at the Savoy ?— No.

Did you bring boys into your rooms in Paris ? — No. What do you mean by boys ?

Well, youths"from 18 to 20 years of age? — l have many friends in Paris of tbat age who would call upon me.

Did any of them call about midnight and stay until four or five o'clock in the morning ? — Certainly not.

This concluded the cross-examination.

Sir E. Clarke began his re-examination by handing to the Witness a bundle of letters written by Lord Queensberry, and asked — Was it from those letters that you first learned that Lord Queensbeny objected to your acquaintance with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas ? — Yes.

The letters were put in and read by Sir E. Clarke. 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 lolling about, doing nothing." The letter afterwards went on to say that Lord Queensberry utterly "declined to just supply you with just 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 to my mind to pose as a thing is as bad as to be it. Never in my experience have I ever seen such a sight as that in your horrible features. No wonder people are talking as they are. I hear, on good authority, that his wife is petitioning to divorce him."

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 then read the following letter : —

"Tues., 3d, Carter's Hotel, 14 and 15, Albemarle-street, W.

"You impertinent young Jackanapes, — I request yon will not send me such messages through the telegraph, and 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 the other day who was at Oxford with you that that was your reputation there, which accounts for a good deal that has happened. All I can say is, if I catch you with that man again I will make public scandal in a way you little dream of ; it is already a suppressed one. I prefer an open one, and at any rate I shall not be longer blamed for allowing such a state of things to go on. Unless this acquaintance ceases I shall carry out my threat, and stop all supplies, and if you are not going to make any attempt to do something I shall certainly cut you down to a mere pittance, so you know what to expect.

"QUEENSBERRY."

The next letter was from Lord Queensberry, dated July 6, to the father of Lady Queensberry, who was divorced from him, in which he said he had been much upset by what had happened in the last ten days, and that Lady Queensberry had been stirring his son up to defy him. She telegraphed on the subject to the Defendant the previous night a very equivocating telegram, saying that the boy denied having been at the Savoy Hotel last year. He asked why send the telegram unless the boy could deny that he was ever there with Mr. Wilde. As a matter of fact he did do so, and there had been a scandal. The letter proceeded :— This hideous scandal has been going on for years. Your daughter must be mad the way she is behaving. She evidently wants to I make out I want to make out a case against my son. It is nothing of the kind. I have made out a case against Oscar Wilde, and I have, to his face, accused him of it. If I was quite certain of the actual thing, I'd shoot the fellow at sight, but I am not, and have only accused him of posing, and for that I will chastise and mark him if he won't stop. It now lays in the hands of these two whether they will further defy me, and your daughter appears to me now to be encouraging them to do so, although she can hardly intend this: I don't believe Wilde will now dare defy me. He plainly showed the white feather , the other day when I tackled him. As for this so-called son of mine, I will have nothing to do with him. He may starve as far as I am concerned, after his behaviour to me. His mother may support him, but she shan't do that here in London with this awful scandal going on."

The following also were addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas :

"Scotland, August 21."I have received your postcard, which I presume is from you, but as the writing is utterly unreadable to me, have been unable to make out hardly one sentence. My object of receiving no written communication from you is therefore kept intact. All future cards will go into the fire unread. I presume these are the ' hyerogliphics' (sic) of the O. W. posing . . . . Club, of which you have the reputation of being such a shining light. I congratulate you on your autography, it is beautiful, and should help you to get a living. I don't know what at, but say crossing-sweeping. My friend I am staying with has made out some of your letter, and wished to read it to me, but I declined to hear a word. However, according to his advice, I shall keep it as a specimen, and also as a protection in case I ever feel tempted to give you the thrashing you really deserve. You reptile. You are no son of mine", and I never thought you were. "QUEENSBERRY."

"August 28th, '94, 26, Portland-place, W. "You miserable creature, — I received your telegram forwarded by post from Carter's, and have requested them not to forward any more, but just to tear any up, as I did yours, without reading it, directly I was aware from whom it came. You must be flush of money to waste it on such rubbish. I have learned, thank goodness, to turn the keenest pangs to peacefulness. What could be keener pain than to have such a son as yourself fathered upon one ? However, there is always a bright side to every cloud, and whatever is is light (fie). If you are my son, it is only confirming proof to me, if I needed any, how right I was to face every horror and misery I have done rather than run the risk of bringing more creatures into the world like yourself, and that was the entire and only reason of my breaking with your mother as a wife, so intensely was I dissatisfied with her as the mother of you children, and particularly yourself, whom, when quite a baby, I cried over you the bitterest tears a man ever shed that I had brought such a creature into the world, and unwittingly had committed such a crime. If you are not my son (and in this christian country, with their x x x hypocrites, 'tis a wise father who knows his own child, and no wonder on the principles they intermarry on ; but to be forewarned is to be forearmed. No wonder you have fallen a prey to this horrible brute. I am only sorry for you as a human creature. You must gang your ain gait. Well, it would be rather a satisfaction to me, because the crime then is not to me. As you see, I am philosophical, and take comfort from anything ; but, really, I am sorry for you. You must be demented ; there is madness on your mother's side, and, indeed, few families in this christian country are without it, if you look into them. But please cease annoying me, for I will not correspond with you, nor receive nor answer letters, and, as for money, you sent me a lawyer's letter to say you would take none from me ; but anyhow, until you change your life I should refuse any — it depends on yourself whether I will ever recognise you at all again after your behaviour. I will make allowances, I think you are demented, and I am very sorry for you. "QUEENSBERRY."

Mr. Wilde said those were the letters which first communicated to him the fact that Lord Queensberry objected to his friendship for his son.

Sir E.Clarke proceeded to examine the Witness as to the reviews on " Dorian Gray," and read the passage that was added to the edition published in this country.

In the course of the re-examination the Witness said that Taylor was introduced to him in October, 1892, by the gentleman whose name bad been written down. That gentleman was a person in high position, of good birth and good repute. It was now two years since he had been in England or since Witness had seen him. He knew that Taylor had lost a great deal of money that he had inherited, but had still a share in a very important business. He was educated at Marlborough. With regard to the arrest of Taylor and Parker in Fitzroy-square, be believed that tbey were charged with assembling for a felonious purpose, but the charge against them was dismissed.

After the adjournment there was a delay of some time before Mr. Wilde re-entered the Court. When he did so he apologised to the Judge, stating that the clock at the restaurant where he lunched was wrong. Sir Edward Clarke examined him on certain letters written by Edward Shelly, in which the writer referred to theatres and plays, and the publishing of The Sphinx and Salome by Mr. Wilde. Shelly also made several appeals for money on account of ill-health and the inadequate payment he was receiving at a commercial house in the City.

Were there ever any relations between you and Shelly other than the relations between a man of letters and one who admired his works ? — Never, on any occasion.

With regard to Alfonzo Conway, did you ever hear that he hail been employed as a newspaper boy ? — No, I never heard that he was connected with literature in any form (laughter).

Did Mrs. Wilde see Conway ? — Oh, yes, constantly.

Had you any idea what the occupation had been of the Parkers ? — They told me they were looking for employment. It was represented to me that their father was a man of means, who made them allowances.

When these young men were introduced to you. had you any reason for suspecting them of being immoral or disreputable persons ? — Nothing whatever. Nothing has come to my knowledge that led me to think anything against their character.

Have you ever seen Charles Parker in the Savoy ? — Never in my life.

How was it that after your interview with Lord Queensberry and the letters coming to your knowledge you did not take steps earlier ? — On account of the very strong pressure put upon me by the Queensberry family, which I did not feel myself able to resist.

Mr. Carson, again cross-examining, read the following post-card, addressed by Lord A. Douglas to Lord Queensberry : — "As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write on a post-card. 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 Rooms, tbe Cafe 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. Yon 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 intimated that his case was closed, reserving to himself the power to claim to call evidence to rebut any that might be sprung upon him.

Mr. Wilde then left the box.

Mr. Carson, in addressing the Jury for the defence, said that Lord Queensberry withdrew nothing that he had said or written, having done everything with premeditation and a determination at all risks and hazards to try and save his son. His conduct had been absolutely consistent throughout. He (Mr. Carson) was glad that his learned friend had read the letters mentioning names of distinguished persons, as it would remove any impression that might exist as to their being mixed up with the matter that was now being investigated. These references were of a purely political character, arising out of the fact that the late Lord Drumlanrig, the eldest son of the Marquess, was made a member of the House of Lords while Lord Queensberry was not a member, and that he felt aggrieved that the honour should have been conferred on his son while it was not given to him. From beginning to end Lord Queensberry had been influenced with regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde by the one hope alone of saving his son. What had been Mr. Wilde's own case ? That up to a certain date he had met Lord Queensberry, who had been on terms of friendship with him. Lord Queensberry had heard of Mr. Wilde's character, and of these scandals at the Savoy Hotel, which would be proved before them. Mr. Wilde had been going about with young men who were not his equals either in position or education. He thought it would be proved that some of these men were known as some of the most immoral characters in London, and he specially referred to Taylor, who was the right man to assist Wilde in all these orgies with artists and valets. With regard to the books, they were being continually told by Mr. Wilde that they were by an artist for artists, but there was the greatest contrast between his books, which were for the select and not for the ordinary individual, and the way he chose his friends. He took up with Charlie Parker, a gentleman's servant, whose brother was a gentleman's servant ; with young Conway, whose brother sold papers on the pier at Worthing ; and with Scarfe, also a gentleman's servant. Then his excuse was no longer that he was dwelling in regions of art, but that he had such a noble, such a democratic soul (laughter), that he drew no social distinctions, and that it was quite as much pleasure to have the sweeping boy from the streets to lunch or dine with him as the greatest litterateur or artist. He (Mr. Carson) considered the positions absolutely irreconcilable. He thought if they had rested the case alone upon Mr. Wilde's literature they would have been absolutely justified in the course which Lord Queensberry had taken. Lord Queensberry undertook to prove that Mr. Wilde was posing as guilty of certain vices. Mr. Wilde never complained of the immorality of the story of "The Priest and the Acolyte." He knew no distinction, in fact, between a moral and an immoral book. Nor did he care whether the article was in its very terms blasphemous. All that Mr. Wilde said was that he did not approve of the story from a literary point of view. What was that story ? It was the story of the love of a priest for the acolyte who attended him at Mass. Exactly the same idea that ran through the two letters to Lord A. Douglas ran through that story, and through "Dorian Gray." Mr. Wilde said that he did not think it was. The same idea ran through those two letters which Mr. Wiide called beautiful, but which he called disgusting. Moreover, there was in this same Chameleon a poem written by Lord Alfred Douglas, and it was seen by Mr. Wilde before its publication. Was it not a terrible thing that a young man on the threshold of life, who had been for several years dominated by Oscar Wilde, and who had been "adored and loved" by Oscar Wilde, as the two letters proved, should thus show the tendency of his mind upon this frightful subject ? What would be the horror of any man whose son wrote such a poem ? Passing to "Dorian Gray," he described it as the tale of a beautiful young man, who, by the conversation of one who had great literary power and the ability to speak in epigram, just as Mr. Wilde had, and who, by reading of exactly the same kind as that in "Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young," had his eyes opened to what they pleased to call the delights of the world. (The learned Counsel read a long extract from Dorian Gray" with a view of maintaining that his contention as to the tendency of the book, was right.) When he was told that Lord Queensberry was to be sent to gaol because he had written this card, he said that he was not only justified, but bound, on the strength of these writings, to take any steps be thought necessary to put an end to this acquaintance. A more thinly-veiled attempt to cover the real nature of the letter called the sonnet had never been made in a Court of Justice. He supposed that his learned friend thought that they knew all about it, and that he had better not give any explanation of it ; but his explanation was futile, because from the letter that they did possess they had no explanation whatever. His learned friend said that a man named Wood had stolen the letters from Lord Alfred Douglas. But who was Wood ? Why, he was Alfred, the friend of Wilde, the friend of Taylor, one of the lot. What was the cause of the strained relations between the two over these letters which caused Mr. Wilde to go to Sir G. Lewis ? What was the reason of the roundabout method of trying to get the letters back ? Wood was not the innocent friend assisted by Wilde out of the largeness of his great heart, but one of the men introduced by Taylor, and when Wilde heard that he had the letters, he said that if Wood wished to turn against him he would have strong corroboration. That was the reason of his anxiety to get the letters at any cost. Taylor might have given a little information about his interview with Wood on the subject, and could probably have told them the whole matter. He was Wilde's bosom friend, and was in close conversation with him on Tuesday last ; but he had not been called. Why did Wilde give Wood 16 ? The one thing that he was anxious for was that Wood should leave the country; so he paid his passage, and, after a farewell lunch at the Florence, he was shipped away to New York, and he supposed that Wilde hoped that he would never see him again. But he was here, and would be examined (sensation). The letters were handed over, except one, and a copy of that was sent to Mr. Beerbohm Tree. With reference to this gentleman, he wished to say that so far as Mr. Tree's name had been introduced into the matter, he acted rightly in simply handing on the letter to Mr. Wilde.

Sir E. Clarke.— There is no question about that.

Mr. Carson said that he made that statement because he had that morning received a cablegram from Mr. Tree, saying that he had seen in America that his name had been mentioned.

The Judge. — There is not the slightest ground for making the slightest suggestion. He acted with the most perfect propriety.

Mr. Carson contended that Mr. Wilde, being in possession of a copy of a letter, had to discover how to get out of it. He told Allan, the blackmailer, it was to be produced as a sonnet. When did he make up his mind to so produce it ? The moment it was discovered it was necessary to make up a case for it, and he then pretended it was a valuable manuscript — a prose poem (laughter). He told that to Allan, the blackmailer. Mr. Carson then read the letter, stating that he took leave to say there was nothing beautiful in the idea; it was absolutely disgusting, especially as addressed to a boy under twenty by a man of forty. He would envy their credulity if they believed that that letter was ever intended for a sonnet. Why were none of the other letters made sonnets ? Only that was made known to the public which had been sent to Mr. Beerholm Tree. The learned Counsel went through the second letter given in The Standard of yesterday. He wished to know if, in view of those letters, they were going to send Lord Queensberry to gaol. He asked them to bear in mind that Lord Queensberry's son was so dominated by Wilde that he threatened to shoot his own father. Lord Queensberry did what he had done most deliberately, and was not afraid to abide by the issue in the Court.

The Court then adjourned. Lord Queensberry being released on 500. bail as before.