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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.

John Sholto Douglas, Marquis of Queensberry, surrendered and was indicted for unlawfully and maliciously writing and publishing a false, malicious, and defamatory libel of and concerning Mr. Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde in the form of a card directed to him.

The case excited great public interest, and the court was crowded.

The defendant pleaded "Not Guilty," and put in a plea alleging that the libel was true and that it was published for the public benefit.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. Charles Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared for the prosecution; Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C.F. Gill, and Mr. A Gill defended. Mr. Besley, Q.C., and Mr. Monckton watched the case for a person interested.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., in opening the case, said that the jury had heard the charge against the defendant, which was that he published a false and malicious libel in regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde. That libel was published in the form of a card, which was left by Lord Queensberry at a club to which Mr. Oscar Wilde belonged. It was a visiting card of Lord Queensberry's, with his name printed upon it, and it had written upon it certain words which formed the libel complained of. In respect of that libel so published this charge was brought against the defendant. Of course it was a matter of serious moment that such a libel as that which Lord Queensberry had written upon that card should be in any way connected with the name of a gentleman who had borne a high reputation in this country. The words of the libel were not directly an accusation of the gravest of all offences--the suggestion was that there was no guilt of the actual offence, but that in some way or other the person of whom the words were written did appear--nay, desired to appear and pose to be of a person inclined to the commission of that gravest of offences. The leaving of such a card openly with the porter of a club was most serious and likely gravely to affect the position of the person as to whom that injurious suggestion was made. If they had to deal only with the publication--simply the question of whether that libel was published, and with the further question which would arise, not for the jury, but for the learned Judge, as to what amount of blame as for a criminal action should be thrown upon the defendant in respect to the matter--there would be considerations, some or probably many of which might be brought to their notice before this case ended, which would not have justified such action, because it could not be justified unless the statement were true but which, at all events in regard to a person in the position of the defendant, with such characteristics as the evidence would probably show that he had, might to some extent have gone to extenuate the gravity of the offence. But the matter did not stop at the question whether that card was delivered, or whether the defendant could in any way be excused by strong feeling--mistaken feeling--for having made that statement. By the plea, which the defendant had brought before the Court that day a graver issue was raised--the defendant said that the statement was true and that it was for the public benefit that the statement was made, and he gave particulars in the plea of matters which he alleged showed that the statement was true in regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde. The plea had not been read to the jury, but there was no allegation in the plea that Mr. Oscar Wilde had been guilty of the offence of which he himself had spoken, but there were a series of accusations in it mentioning the names of persons, and it was said with regard to those persons that Mr. Wilde had solicited them to commit with him the grave offence, and that he had been guilty with each and all of them of indecent practices. In the plea Mr. Oscar Wilde was stated to have solicited the offence, and that, although that offence was not alleged to have been committed, he was guilty of indecent practices. It was for those who had taken the responsibility of putting into the plea these serious allegations to satisfy the jury if they could be credible witnesses, or evidence which they thought worthy of consideration and entitled to belief, that the allegations were true. Mr. Oscar Wilde was the son of Sir William Wilde, a very distinguished Irish surgeon and oculist, who did public service as chairman of the Census Commission in Ireland. His father died some years ago, but Lady Wilde was now living. He went in the first instance to Trinity College, Dublin, where he greatly distinguished himself for classical knowledge, earning some conspicuous rewards which were given to its students by that distinguished University. His father wished him to go to Oxford, and he went to Magdalen College, Oxford, where he had a brilliant career, obtaining the Newdigate prize for English poetry. After leaving the University he devoted himself to literature in its artistic side. In 1882 he published a volume of poems and wrote essays on artistic and aesthetic subjects. Many years ago he became a very prominent personality, laughed at by some but appreciated by many, representing a form of artistic literature which recommended itself to many of the foremost minds and the most cultivated people. In 1884 he married a daughter of Mr. Horace Lloyd, Q.C., and had since lived with his wife and two sons in Tite-street, Chelsea. He was a member of the Albemarle Club. Among the friends who went to his house in Tite-street was Lord Alfred Douglas, a younger son of Lord Queensberry. In 1891 Lord Alfred Douglas went to Tite-street, being introduced by a friend of Mr. Wilde's. From that time Mr. Wilde had been a friend of Lord Alfred Douglas and also of his mother, Lady Queensberry, from whom, on her petition, the Marquis had been divorced. He had again and again been a guest at Lady Queensberry's houses at Wokingham and Salisbury, being invited to family parties there. Lord Alfred Douglas had been a welcome guest at Mr. Wilde's house and at Cromer, Goring, Torquay, and Worthing when Mr. and Mrs. Wilde were staying there. Lord Alfred Douglas was a frequent and invited visitor. Until 1893 Mr. Wilde did not know the defendant, with the exception that he met him once about 1881. In November, 1892, Mr. Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas were lunching together at the Cafe Royal in Regent-street. Lord Queensberry came into the room. Mr. Wilde was aware that, owing to circumstances which he had nothing to do--owing to unhappy family troubles which he himself only mentioned because it was absolutely necessary--there had been some strained feelings between Lord Alfred Douglas and his father. Mr. Wilde suggested to Lord Alfred Douglas that it was a good opportunity for him to speak to his father and for a friendly interview. Lord Alfred Douglas acted on the suggestion and went across to Lord Queensberry and spoke to him and had a friendly conversation. Lord Alfred Douglas brought Lord Queensberry to the table where he and Mr. Wilde sat at lunch, and Lord Queensberry was introduced to Mr. Wilde and shook hands with him. Lord Queensberry sat down and had lunch with them. Lord Alfred Douglas was obliged to leave at half-past 2 o'clock, and Lord Queensberry remained chatting with Mr. Wilde. Mr. Wilde said that he and his family were going to Torquay. Lord Queensberry said he was going to Torquay too, to give a lecture, and asked Mr. Wilde to come and hear it. Lord Queensberry did not go to Torquay, and he sent a note to Mr. Wilde telling him that he was not going there. Mr. Wilde never met Lord Queensberry from that time until the early part of 1894. Mr. Wilde had then become aware that certain statements were being made affecting his character. A man named Wood, to whom some clothes had been given by Lord Alfred Douglas, alleged that he had found in the pocket of a coat four letters addressed by Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred, and called upon Mr. Wilde in 1893, representing that he was in great distress and in need of monetary assistance to go to America. He produced some of the letters, and Mr. Wilde, more out of sympathy than anything else, gave him £15 or £20 for the,. They were mere ordinary letters, of no consequence or importance whatever. But, as generally happened, a further demand for an alleged suppressed letter was made later on, when it became known that Mr. Oscar Wilde's play A Woman of No Importance was about to be produced at the Haymarket Theatre. Mr. Wilde was shown a copy of a letter which had been sent to Mr. Beerbohm Tree which Mr. Wilde was alleged to have written to Lord Alfred Douglas, and was asked to buy the original. He absolutely and peremptorily refused, saying that he himself had a copy of the same letter, as he considered it a work of art, and even the original was of no use to him. He sent the messenger, a man named Allen, away, giving him a sovereign for his trouble, and Allen was so gratified that he immediately send Mr. Wilde the original letter, which he had retained and now produced. Ut was in the nature of a prose sonnet and Mr. Wilde had ideas of publishing it--in fact, it was paraphrased in an aesthetic magazine called the Spirit Lamp, edited by Lord Alfred Douglas. The letter was as follows:--

"My own Boy--Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim-built soul walks between passion and poetry. No Hyacinthus followed Love so madly as you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the gray twilight of Gothic-things. Come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place and only lacks you. But go to Salisbury first. Always with undying love, Yours, OSCAR."

The words of that communication, Sir Edward Clarke continued, might seem extravagant to their more prosaic and commercial experiences, but Mr. Wilde was a poet, and the letter was considered by him a prose sonnet, and as an expression of true poetic feeling, and had no relation whatsoever to the hateful and repulsive suggestions incorporated in the plea in this case. Early in 1894 Lord Queensberry met Mr. Wilde and his son, Lord Alfred, again at lunch at the Cafe Royal. Shortly after that Mr. Wilde became aware that the marquis was writing letters which affected his character and contained suggestions injurious to him. Though he might then reasonably--and probably would if his own interests alone were concerned--have brought the matter at once to public notice, Mr. Wilde abstained for reasons which would possibly be elicited before the case was over. During 1894 Mr. Wilde--in Lord Queensberry's hearing--ordered that he should never be admitted to his house. Last February Mr. Wilde produced at St. James's Theatre another play called The Importance of Being Earnest. He heard of certain intentions of Lord Queensberry, who had previously created a scene in a theatre when a new play of Lord Tennyson's--The Promise of May--was produced for the first time, and when, as an Agnostic, he publicly denounced a certain character of the performance from his seat in the stalls. Of course a disturbance on the night of a new play would be a very serious matter to author and actors, and would have been especially serious if--as it probably would--it had developed into a personal attack on the private character of Mr. Wilde. Lord Queensberry booked a seat at St. James's Theatre, but his money was returned to him and the police were warned about him. On the night of the play the marquis made his appearance carrying a large bouquet of vegetables. Whether that was consistent with Lord Queensberry's sanity would be for the jury to decide. Being refused admission at the box-office Lord Queensberry, with his vegetable offering, tried to enter by the gallery, but the police refused him admittance. On February 28 Mr. Wilde went to the Albemarle Club and there received from the hall-porter the libellous card left by Lord Queensberry on the 18th of that month. Hitherto the accusations had been made in letters to Lord Queensberry's family on which, if he had chosen, Mr. Wilde could have taken action, but in consideration of the family he refrained. Here, however, was a public charge made openly against him at his club, and Mr. Wilde could no longer refrain or sit still. Hence, these criminal proceedings. The plea of justification contained two curious assertions--one, that in July, 1890, Mr. Wilde wrote and published an immoral work called "The Picture of Dorian Gray," and secondly, contributed to a magazine called the Chameleon, of which he was the mainstay, certain prurient articles on ``Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young." He himself defied his learned friends to suggest from these contributions anything hostile to the character of Mr. Wilde, but it was due to him to say that directly he say the disgraceful and abominable story in the Chameleon "The Priest and the Acolyte" in which same number of his own article appeared he indignantly insisted on the copies being suppressed and the magazine withdrawn. Sir E. Clarke concluded by reading extracts from ``The Picture of Dorian Gray'' and contending that nothing in that work or the other would justify the pleas alleged against Mr. Wilde.

Sidney Wright, hall porter of the Albemarle Club, of which Mr. and Mrs. Oscar Wilde were members, deposed that on February 13 the Marquis of Queensberry handed the card produced to him. Before handing the card to him Lord Queensberry had written some words. Lord Queensberry said he wished witness to give that to Mr. Oscar Wilde. Witness looked at the card, but did not understand it, and made an entry on the back of it of the date and the time at which it was handed to him. Witness put it in an envelope which he addressed "Mr. Oscar Wilde" and when Mr. Oscar Wilde came to the club on February 28 the witness handed it to him, saying that Lord Queensberry had wished him to give it to Mr. Wilde.

Mr. Oscar Wilde was then called and examined by Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C. He deposed that he was 39 years of age. His father was Sir William Wilde, surgeon, of Dublin, who was chairman of the Census Commission. He died when witness was at Oxford. He himself was a student at Trinity College, Dublin, where he took a classical scholarship, a first in "mods" and a first in "greats," winning the Newdigate Prize for English verse. He took his degree in 1878, and from that time had devoted himself to art and literature. In 1882 he published a volume of poems, and afterwards lectured in England and America. He had written many essays, and during the last few years had devoted himself to dramatic literature. In 1884 he married miss Lloyd, and from the date of his marriage he had resided with his wife in Tite-street, Chelsea. He made the acquaintance of Lord Alfred Douglas in 1891, and also made the acquaintance of Lady Queensberry, at whose house in Wokingham and Salisbury he had been a guest. He also knew other members of Lord Queensberry's family. Lord Alfred Douglas had dined with him at the Albemarle Club, of which Mrs. Wilde was also a member, and had stayed with them at Goring, Cromer, Worthing, and Torquay. In November, 1892, he was lunching with Lord Alfred Douglas at the Cafe Royal. He knew there had been some estrangement between Lord Queensberry and Lord Alfred Douglas. On that occasion Lord Queensberry was at the Cafe Royal, and at the suggestion of witness Lord Alfred Douglas went across and shook hands with Lord Queensberry and a friendly conversation ensued. Lord Alfred Douglas had to go early, and Lord Queensberry remained talking to witness. Lord Queensberry said he was going to Torquay, but he did not go. From November, 1892, until March, 1894, witness did not see Lord Queensberry. In 1893 witness heard that some letters which he had addressed to Lord Alfred Douglas had come into the hands of certain persons. A man named Wood told witness that he had found some letters in a suit of clothes which Lord Alfred Douglas had given him. When Wood entered the room he said to witness "I suppose you will think very badly of me." Witness replied, "I heard that you had some letters of mine to Lord Alfred Douglas which you certainly ought to have handed back to him." Wood handed him three or four letters and said that they had been stolen from him by a man named Allen, and that he had to go to employ a detective to get them back. Witness read the letters and said he did not think them of any importance. Wood said he was very much afraid of staying in London on account of the men who had taken the letters from him, and he wanted money to go to America. Witness asked him what better opening he would have as a clerk in America than he had in England. Wood repeated that he wanted to go to America, as he was afraid of the men who had taken the letters from him. Witness handed him £15 and retained the letters. In April, 1893, Mr. Beerbohm Tree handed witness what purported to be a copy of a letter. A man named Allen subsequently called upon the witness, who felt that Allen was a man who wanted money from him, and he said ``I suppose you have come about my beautiful letter to Lord Alfred Douglas? If you had not been so foolish as to send a copy to Mr. Beerbohm Tree I should have been very glad to pay you a large sum for the letter as I consider that it is a work of art." Allen said a very curious construction could be put on the letter. The witness said, in reply, "Art is rarely intelligible to the criminal classes" Allen said, "A man had offered me £60 for it" Witness said, "If you take my advice you will go to him and sell my letter to him for £60. I myself have never received so large a sum for any prose work of that length, but I am glad to find that there is someone in England who will pay such a large sum for a letter of mine." Allen said the man was out of town. The witness said the man would come back, and added, "I assure you on my word of honour that I shall pay nothing for the letter." Allen, changing his manner, said he had not a single penny and was very poor, and that he had been on many occasions trying to find witness to talk about the letter. Witness said he could not guarantee his cab expenses, but handed him half a sovereign. Witness said to Allen, "The letter will shortly be published as a sonnet in a delightful magazine, and I will send you a copy." That letter was the basis of the sonnet which was published in French in the Spirit Lamp in 1893. Allen went away. About five or six minutes after a man called Clyburn came in. Witness said to him, "I cannot be bothered any more about the letter. O don't care twopence about it." Clyburn said "Allen has asked me to give it back to you." Witness said, "Why does he give it back to me?" Clyburn said ``Well, he says that you were kind to him, and that there is no use trying to rent you, as you only laugh at us." Witness looked at the letter, and seeing that it was extremely soiled, said "I think it quite unpardonable that better care was not taken with an original letter of mine." He said he was very sorry--it had been in so many hands. Witness took the letter then, and said ``Well, I will accept the letter back, and you can thank Mr. Allen from me for all the anxiety he has shown about the letter." He gave Clyburn half-a-sovereign for his trouble. Witness said, "I am afraid you are leading a wonderfully wicked life." He replied, "There is good and bad in every one of us." Witness told him he was a born philosopher. He then left. The letter had remained in the witness's possession ever since, and he produced it in Court to-day. Lord Alfred Douglas went to Cairo at the end of 1893, and on his return witness was lunching with him at the Cafe Royal when Lord Queensberry came in and shook hands. They chatted about Egypt and various subjects. Witness afterwards became aware that Lord Queensberry was making suggestions with regard to his character and behaviour. Those suggestions were not made in letters addressed to witness. On June 16, 1894, Lord Queensberry and a gentleman called upon witness. The interview took place in his library. Lord Queensberry said to him, "Sit down." Witness said, "I don't allow any one to talk to me like that. I suppose you have come to apologize for that letter you have written. I could have you up any day I chose for a criminal libel for writing such a letter." He said, "The letter is privileged, as it was written to my son." Witness said, "How dare you say such things about your son and me?" He said, "You were both kicked out of the Savoy Hotel at a moment's notice for your disgusting conduct." Witness said, "That is a lie." He said, "You have taken furnished rooms for him in Piccadilly." Witness said "Some one has been telling you an absurd lot of lies about me and your son. I have not done anything of the kind." He said "I hear that you were thoroughly well blackmailed for a letter you sent to my son." Witness said, "The letter was a beautiful letter, and I never write except for publication." Witness then said to him, "Do you seriously accuse your son and me?" He said, "I don't say you are it; but you look it, and you pose as it. If I catch you and my son together again at any public restaurant I will thrash you." Witness said, "I do not know what the Queensberry rules are. The Oscar Wilde rule is to shoot at sight." and then he told Lord Queensberry to leave his house. He said he would not do so. Witness told him he would have him put out by the police. He said that it was a disgusting scandal. Witness said:--"If it is so, you are the author of that scandal and no one else. The letters you have written about me are infamous, and I see that you are merely trying to ruin your son through me. I will not have in my house a brute like you." Witness went into the hall, followed by Lord Queensberry and the gentleman. He said to his servant, pointing to Lord Queensberry, "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. You are never to allow him to enter my house again, and should he attempt to come in you must send for the police." Lord Queensberry left. It was not the fact that witness had taken rooms in Piccadilly for his son. It was perfectly untrue that witness had been required to leave the Savoy Hotel. One the day of the production of his piece, The Importance of Being Earnest, at the St. James's Theatre, certain information reached him. Witness knew what had occurred at the production of The Promise of May. The piece was very successful, and witness appeared before the curtain to bow his acknowledgements. The police were on duty and Lord Queensberry was not admitted, but he handed in a bundle of vegetables. Witness consulted a solicitor with regard to that, but did not take any other step. On February 28 witness went to the Albemarle Club and the porter handed him the card which had been left by Lord Queensberry. Witness at once instructed his solicitor to take these proceedings. Witness had nothing whatever to do with the Chameleon except to send him contribution, and he knew nothing whatever about the story of "The Priest and the Acolyte," and expressed that disapproval to the editor. "The Picture of Dorian Gray" was originally published in a magazine, and it was afterwards, in 1891, republished in book form, and it had been on sale from that time to this. Witness's attention had been called to the allegations in the plea impugning his conduct with different persons. There was not the slightest truth in any one of those allegations.

Replying to Mr. Carson, Q.C., in cross-examination, Mr. Oscar Wilde said that he was 40 years of age in October last, and Lord Alfred Douglas was about 24. He had known the latter since he was 20 or 21. Down to the interview in Tite-street Lord Queensberry had been friendly. He did not receive a letter in which the Marquis desired his acquaintance with his son to cease, but he gathered after the interview that that was so. Notwithstanding Lord Queensberry's protest, his intimacy with Lord Alfred Douglas continued to that moment, and he had stayed with him at many places, and very recently at Monte Carlo. Lord Alfred Douglas wrote poems for the Chameleon which he himself thought beautiful, and which contained no improper suggestions whatever. Witness considered that not only was the story "The Priest and the Acolyte" immoral, but worse, inasmuch as it was badly written. (Laughter.) He took no steps to express disapproval of the Chameleon, because it would have been beneath his dignity as a man of letters to associate himself with the mere effusions of an illiterate undergraduate. He did not believe that any book or work of art had any effects on morality whatever. In writing he did not consider the effect of creating or inciting morality or immorality; he aimed neither at good nor evil, but simply tried to make a thing with some quality of beauty. Being questioned as to the morality of some of his expressions in the Chameleon article, Mr. Wilde said that there was no such thing as morality or immorality in thought, but there was such a thing as immoral emotion. The realization of one's self was the prime aim of life, and to do so through pleasure was finer than through pain. On that point he was on the side of the Greeks. He still believed that, as he then wrote, a truth ceased to be true when more than one person believed it. That would be his metaphysical definition of truth--something so personal that could never be appreciated by two minds. The condition of perfection was idleness; the life of contemplation was the highest life. There was no such thing as a moral or immoral book, to his mind. Books were either well or badly written. Well written, they produced a sense of beauty--the highest sense of which a human being could be capable--and badly written, a sense of disgust. No work of art ever put forward views, for views belonged to people who were not artists. The views of the illiterate were unaccountable; he was concerned only with his own views, and not with those of other people. He had found wonderful exceptions to the rule that the majority of people were Philistines or illiterates, but he was afraid that as a rule most people did not live up--for want of culture--to the position he asserted in those matters, and were not even cultivated enough to draw a distinction between a good and a bad book. He had no knowledge of the views of ordinary individuals, and was therefore unable to say whether the sentiments enunciated in "Dorian Gray" might lead ordinary individuals to see a certain tendency in them. Being vigorously cross-examined by Mr. Carson as to certain passages in "Dorian Gray," he denied that he had suggested anything to which exception could be taken, adding, amid laughter, in which everyone joined, that he had never given adoration to anyone except himself. There were people in the world, he regretted to say, who could not understand that an artist could feel for a wonderful and beautiful personality. Being brought to the facts of the case, apart from these generalities, Mr. Wilde said he wrote the letter to Lord Alfred Douglas from Torquay, the latter being at the Savoy Hotel. He thought it a beautiful and poetical letter--the letter of an artist and a poet. He had never written to other people in the same strain, nor even to Lord Alfred Douglas again, for he did not repeat himself in style. Mr. Carson here read a letter to Lord Alfred Douglas from the witness in similar terms to the other, which the witness explained saying that it was a tender expression of his great admiration for Lord Alfred. Being interrogated as to various allegations in the plea of justification, Mr. Wilde gave them an indignant and emphatic denial.

The cross-examination of the witness was unfinished when the Court rose, and the hearing was adjourned until to-morrow (Thursday), the Marquis of Queensberry being admitted to bail on his own recognizances.