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The trial of JOHN SHOLTO DOUGLAS, Marquis of Queensberry, who surrendered, upon an indictment charging him with 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, was resumed.

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., Mr. Monckton, and Mr. Leonard Kershaw watched the case for a person interested.

The cross-examination of Mr. Oscar Wilde by Mr. CARSON, Q.C., was continued. Witness said it was a person named Taylor who arranged the interview with Wood in reference to the letters at his (Taylor's) rooms in Little College-street. Taylor had been to witness's house and chambers, and he himself used to go to Taylor's rooms to afternoon tea parties. Taylor's rooms did not strike him as anything peculiar except that they were furnished in better taste than usual. They were very pretty rooms. He had seen the rooms lighted otherwise than by candles. It would be quite untrue, he should think, to say that Taylor had a double set of curtains drawn across the windows and that the rooms were always lighted by candles. He had known Taylor to burn perfumes in his rooms. He never saw Wood at tea there, except on one occasion. He had seen Sidney Mayor, who was 25 years of age, at Taylor's rooms. He had not seen Mayor for a year and did not know where he was. When at tea at Taylor's there was no servant to wait. Witness had no particular business with Taylor--Taylor was a friend of his and was a young man of great taste and intelligence, educated at a very good English school. Witness had not got Taylor to arrange dinners for him to meet young men. He had dined with Taylor at restaurants in private rooms--he preferred dining in private rooms. He did not know that Taylor was being watched by the police ; he never heard that. He knew that Taylor and Parker were arrested in a raid made at a house in Fitzroy-square last year. He saw Parker at Taylor's residence in Chapel-street. Taylor had introduced five young men to him with whom he had been friendly. Witness had given money or presents to all five ; they gave him nothing. Among the five Taylor introduced him to Charles Parker and he became on friendly terms with him. He did not know that Parker was a gentleman's servant out of employment. Being asked by Mr. Carson how old Parker was, the witness replied that he did not keep a census and he could not tell. It would be rather vulgar of him to ask people their age. Parker was not a literary character nor an artist, and culture was not his strong point. He himself never inquired what Parker had been--he never inquired about people's past. He did not know where Parker was now. He had given Parker £4 or £5 because he was poor and because he liked him. He first met Parker at Kettner's restaurant. Witness invited Taylor to dinner at Kettner's on the occasion of his birthday, and told him to bring what friends he liked, and he brought Parker and Parker's brother. Witness did not know that one of the Parkers was a gentleman's servant and the other a groom. The reason he invited them to dinner was the pleasure of being with those who were young, bright, happy, care less, original--he did not like the sensible and he did not like the old. The dinner was one of Kettner's best--with the best of wine. Being asked by Mr. Carson whether he gave them an intellectual treat, the witness said that they seemed greatly impressed. They had what wine they wanted, and he did not stint them--no gentleman would stint his guests. He did not take Charles Parker to the Savoy after the dinner, and he did not give him money. Charles Parker never dined with him at the Savoy. From October, 1893, to April, 1894, witness had chambers in St. James's-place. His impression was that Taylor wrote to him saying that Charles Parker was in town and would like to see him, and witness replied that he could come and have afternoon tea with him. Charles Parker came there to tea. He gave Charles Parker a silver cigarette case as a Christmas present, and he gave him £3 or £4 because he was hard up and asked him for it. No impropriety took place. Being asked by Mr. Carson what there was in common between witness and Charles Parker, witness replied that he liked the society of people who were much younger than himself and who were idle and careless, and he did not like social distinctions of any kind. To him the mere fact of youth was so wonderful that he would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour than be cross-examined in Court. He would talk to a street arab with pleasure. Charles Parker told him he had an income from his father. The witness did not think he had written any beautiful letters to Charles Parker. He did not go at half-past 12 at night in March or April, 1893, to visit Charles Parker at Park-walk, Chelsea. He heard that Parker had enlisted in the Army. In August last year he read of the arrest of Taylor and Parker in the raid at a house in Fitzroy-square. The magistrate dismissed the case. He read the names of the persons who were arrested. He had never heard the name of Preston in respect of the Cleveland-street scandal. When he read that Taylor was arrested witness was greatly distressed and wrote to tell him so. He had not seen Taylor again until this year. The fact of Taylor's having been arrested did not make any difference in their friendship. Witness first knew Freddy Atkins in October or November, 1892. He told witness he was employed by a firm of bookmakers. Witness did not come in contact with him by making bets. Atkins was a young man of 19 or 20 when the witness first met him. He met him at a gentleman's rooms off Regent-street--he thought, Margaret-street. He did not meet him at Taylor's. Several people were present when he was introduced to Atkins. He never asked Atkins to dinner or to lunch. He met him at a dinner given by a gentleman at Kettner's. He thought Taylor was at the dinner. He met Atkins two days afterwards. He felt friendly towards Atkins at the dinner and thought be was very good company. He called him "Fred," and Atkins called him " Oscar." Atkins had an ambition to go on the music-hall stage. Atkins did not discuss literature with him; witness would not allow him to. Atkins never lunched with him at the Cafe Royal. On one occasion a gentleman was lunching with Atkins at the Cafe Royal, and they came over and had coffee with witness, who had had been lunching there. Subsequently witness was going to Paris to see a firm of publishers about a work which he was bringing out. Atkins and another gentleman were going there, and it was arranged that all three should go together. The gentleman, however, could not go, and he asked witness to allow Atkins to accompany him. He paid Atkins's fare, but it was repaid. He did not suggest that Atkins should go in the capacity of his secretary. They stayed at an hotel in Paris in the Boulevard des Capucines. He did not see much of Atkins in Paris,and Atkins was not there as his guest. When witness returned to London he was ill. Atkins and the gentleman came to see him while he was ill. He did not ask Atkins to promise not to say anything about the visit to Paris. He had been to Atkins's address in Ospaburgh-street to tea. Another gentleman was there, about 20 years of age. He gave Atkins about £3 15s. to buy his first song for the music-hall stage. Atkins music-hall stage never took less. That was in March, 1894. There was never any occasion for any impropriety between witness and Atkins. Witness knew Ernest Searle, whom he met in December, 1893. Taylor introduced him to him. At the time Searle's occupation was nothing. Searle had been to Australia. Taylor introduced Searle to him at St. James's-place. Witness did not ask him to bring him there. Mr. Carson asked how Taylor came to bring Searle there, and witness replied that Taylor told him that he knew a young man who had met Lord Douglas of Harwick on board ship going out to Australia. Subsequently Taylor and Searle dined with witness at Kettner's. He gave Searle a cigarette ease; it was his custom to give cigarette cases. He first met Sidney Mayor in September, 1892. Mayor was 25 years of age. Taylor did not introduce Mayor to him. Mayor was introduced to witness by the gentleman who asked him to allow Atkins to accompany him to Paris. Witness never gave Mayor any money, and he never gave Taylor any money to give to him. He gave Mayor a cigarette case. A cigarette case was the present which he usually gave to any one whom he liked. Mayor stayed with him for one night at an hotel in Albemarle-street in October, 1892. Mayor came there because witness had asked him to meet him at the railway station on his return from Scotland, and he stayed with him at the hotel because he was on his way through London and there was no one at home, and it was nicer to have a companion. Witness knew Walter Granger, a servant at some rooms at Oxford where he stayed in 1893. Granger was 16 years of age. Witness emphatically denied the allegations in the plea of justification.

In re-examination by Sir Edward Clarke, the witness said it was from certain letters produced that he gathered that Lord Queensberry objected to his friendship with Lord Alfred Douglas.

The letters were as follows :--

"Carter's Hotel, Albemarle-street, Sunday, April 1, 1894.

"Alfred,--It is extremely painful to me to have to write to you. in this strain. I must, but please understand I decline to receive any answers from you in writing in return. Any letters coming under a disguised handwriting or in other people's, if opened by mistake, will be out in the fire unread. After your previous hysterical impertinent ones I refuse to be annoyed with such, and must ask you if you have any thing to say to come here and say it in person. Firstly, am I to understand that having left Oxford, as you did, with discredit to yourself, the reasons of which were fully explained to me by your tutor, you now intend to loaf and loll about and do nothing? All the time you were wasting at Oxford I was put off with the assurance that you were eventually to go into the Civil Service or to the Foreign Office, and then I was put off by an assurance of your going to the Bar. It appears to me you intend to do nothing; in fact the important valuable time has passed, and it seems you are too late now for any profession. I utterly decline to supply you, however, with sufficient funds just to enable you to loaf. You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be most cruel and wrong of me to encourage you in this. Do you seriously intend to make no attempt to help yourself, and to go on with year present life, doing nothing? Secondly, I come to the more painful part of this letter--your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde. It must either cease or I will disown you and stop all money supplies and if necessary I will go to him personally and tell him so. Also, he shall have a bit of my mind. I am not going to try and analyze this intimacy, and I make no accusation, but to my mind to pose as a thing is as bad as the real thing. . . . I hear on good authority, but this may he false, that his wife is petitioning to divorce him. Is this true, or do you know of it? If so, what is to be your position, going about as you do with him." The letter was signed, "Your disgusted so-called father, QUEENSBERRY.'"

To this Lord Alfred Douglas telegraphed to his father:--" What a funny little man you are !-- ALFRED DOUGLAS." Lord Queensberry's next letter to Lord Alfred was in these terms :-- "You impertinent little jackanapes. I request you will not send me such messages through the telegraph, and if you come to me with any of your impertinence I will 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 a 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 be no 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 you are to expect.--Queensberry."

A third letter was written to Mr. A. Montgomery, the father of the Marchioness of Queensberry, who had obtained a divorce from the Marquis, in which, dating from Maidenhead, he said:--"Sir,--I have changed my mind, and, as I am not at all well, having been very much upset by what has happened the last ten days, I do not see why I should come dancing attendance upon you. . . . Your daughter is the person who is supporting my son to defy me. She won't write, but she is now telegraphing on the subject to me, Last night, after hearing from you, I received a very quibbling, prevaricating sort of message from her, saying the boy denied having been at the Savoy for the last year, or with Oscar Wilde at all. As a matter of fact he did, and there has been a scandal. I am told they were warned off, but the proprietor would not admit this. This hideous scandal has been going on for years. Your daughter must he mad in the way she is behaving. She evidently wants to 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. . . It now lies in the hands of these two whether they will further defy me. Your daughter appears to me now to he 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--a damned cur and coward of the Rosebery type. 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. But your daughter's conduct is outrageous, and I am now fully convinced that the Rosebery-Gladstone-Royal insult that came to me through my other son, that she worked that, I thought it was you. . . It shall be known some day by all that Rosebery not only insulted me by lying to the Queen, which she knows, which makes her as bad as him and Gladstone, but also has made a life-long quarrel between my son and I."

Witness said there was no truth whatever in the statement in Lord Queensberry's letter that witness's wife was going to petition for a divorce, It was from the letters of Lord Queensberry which Sir Edward Clarke had read that witness gathered that Lord Queensberry objected to his friendship with Lord Alfred Douglas, but, having regard to the character of those letters, he thought it right to entirely disregard them. Witness first knew Taylor in October, 1892, being introduced to him by a gentleman of high position and reputation whom he last saw in February or March, 1893, and who had not been in England now for two years, At the time he was introduced to him Taylor was living in College-street. He knew that Taylor had lost a good deal of the money which he had inherited, but that he still had a share in an important business. Taylor was educated at Marl borough School, and was a young man of education and accomplishments. He saw in the newspaper that among the persons arrested in the raid at the house in Fitzroy-square were Taylor and Charles Patker, and he saw that the charge against Taylor and Charles Parker was dismissed. Witness was much distressed about it, and wrote to Taylor. Taylor told him in reply that it was a benefit concert, that he had been given a ticket, that when he arrived at the house dancing was going on, and he was asked to play the piano, that two music-hall singers were expected to come in costume, and that suddenly the police entered and arrested everybody. Knowing that the charge had been dismissed, and hearing how the arrest had happened, witness thought that no blame was attaching to Taylor, and he was very sorry for him. Shelley was in the employment of a firm of publishers, and he was introduced to him by a member of the firm. He met Shelley a few days afterwards on going to the premises of the firm, and talked to him about literature. He found that Shelley had a great deal of taste and a great desire for culture. Shelley was well acquainted with the whole of witness's works, and was very appreciative of them. Witness gave Shelley three of his books. Shelley had dined with witness and Mrs. Wilde at Tite-street. Shelley was in every way a gentleman.

The Court adjourned for luncheon at 1 30 and reassembled again at 2 o'clock. Mr. Oscar Wilde did not put in an appearance until 8 minutes after 2, and on doing so expressed his apologies to the Court for his late arrival. It was due, he said, to the clock of the hotel where he had been lunching being wrong.

SIR EDWARD CLARKE, continuing his re-examination, questioned the witness as to certain letters. Witness said that the letters produced were the handwriting of Edward Shelley. Upon hearing the contents of the plea in this case witness searched for and found the letters. Sir Edward Clarke then read the letters referred to. In March, 1893, Edward Shelley had left the employment of Messrs. Mathews and Lane, and was very anxious to get another situation. He wrote subsequently asking witness for £10. Witness lent him or gave him £5 about that time. He wrote other letters asking witness to help him to get employment. In one of these letters the writer referred to the deadly enemies which the witness had in London, as was evidenced by the Daily News article. In reply to a question from counsel, witness said that this was an article not quite appreciating the poem "The Sphinx." (Laughter.) There was never any relation between witness and Edward Shelley other than that which might legitimately exist between a man of letters and a person who admired his poems and works. With reference to the Worthing incident, witness said that he had taken a furnished house at Worthing at the time and had been staying there with his family. The latter left Worthing after a time and witness remained on. The lad named Conway was known to witness's family, and had been to his house to tea. He was not in employment at the time when witness met him. He never heard that Conway had been a newspaper boy or that he had had any connexion with journalism. (Laughter.) The boy had an intense desire to go to sea in the merchant service as an apprentice. He used to go out fishing, sailing, and bathing with witness, his son, and his son's friends. He had never seen Conway since then. He had written one letter to him, he thought in November last, in reference to his becoming an apprentice in the merchant service. Witness had consulted a friend who had many ships, and wrote to Conway and told him the result of his inquiries. With respect to the young men introduced to witness by or through Alfred Taylor, they had been his guests with one or two exceptions. With regard to Atkins, he was introduced to witness by the gentleman whose name had not been mentioned. When these persons were introduced to him he had no reason to suspect that they were immoral or disreputable persons, nor had he since unless it was in the ease of Charles Parker, who was arrested and and the charge against whom had been dismissed by the magistrate. Apart from that there had never been any thing at all to bring to his mind the idea that these people were disreputable persons. He had never seen Charles Parker at the Savoy Hotel. The reason why he did not take steps against Lord Queensberry earlier was that very strong pressure had been put upon him by Lord Queensberry's family not to do so. On the Wednesday following the Saturday on which Lord Queensberry's visit occurred witness had an interview with a member of the Queensberry family, who was also a member of Parliament.

Mr. CARSON 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 Rooms, the 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. 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 rouge, and. I think if you were dead not many people would miss you.--A. D."

In reply to questions from the jury, witness said that he had never seen the editor of the Chameleon at the time that he wrote to witness from Oxford and asked him to contribute to the magazine. He subsequently saw him, he thought in the month of November, in a friend's rooms. He had written to him to say that he had really nothing to give him at all. He afterwards said he could give him some aphorisms out of his plays. The Chameleon was not for private circulation.

Sir. E. CLARKE said that only 100 copies were to be printed, but so far as those 100 copies would go the magazine would be for public circulation.

A juryman.--Were you aware of the nature of this article, "The Priest and the Acolyte"? Witness.-- In no way whatever. It came as a terrible shock.

SIR E. CLARKE intimated that this concluded the evidence for the prosecution, and

Mr. CARSON then rose to make his opening speech for the defence. He said that is appearing in that case for Lord Queensberry he could not but feel that a very grave responsibility rested upon him. So far as Lord Queensberry was concerned, in any act he had done, in any letter he had written, or in the matter of the card which had put him in his present position, he withdrew nothing. He had done what he had done premeditatingly, and he was determined at all risks and all hazards to try to save his son. Whether Lord Queensberry was right or whether he was wrong they had probably now to some extent information upon which they could found a judgment. He must say for Lord Queensberry, notwithstanding the many elements of prejudice which his learned friend (Sir E. Clarke) thought fit to introduce into the case in his opening speech, that Lord Queensberry's conduct in this respect had been absolutely consistent all through; and if the facts which he stated in his letter as to Mr. Wilde's reputation and acts were correct, then not only was he justified in doing what he could to cut short what would moat probably prove a most disastrous acquaintance for his son, but in taking every step which suggested itself to him to bring about an inquiry into the acts and doings of Mr. Wilde. It was said that the names of eminent persons, distinguished persons, had been introduced into Lord Queensberry's letters. Hs was very glad that those letters had been read, and he thought Sir Edward Clarke took a very proper course in having those letters read, because they proved that those names were introduced in a way which bad absolutely no connexion with the charges made in the letters against Mr. Oscar Wilde. Those names were introduced in relation to purely political matters arising out of the fact that one of Lord Queensberry's sons was made a member of the House of Lords while Lord Queensberry himself was not a member of that House, and, rightly or wrongly, he felt aggrieved in consequence. Mr. Carson then proceeded to review the facts connected with Lord Queensberry's acquaintance with Mr. Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas's friendship with the same person. These facts have already been published. He commented strongly on Mr. Wilde's friendship with the various young men whose names have come up in the course of the trial, and asked why Taylor, who was the pivot of the whole case, had not been put in the box. With regard to the Chameleon, he pointed out that Mr. Oscar Wilde did not publish any condemnation of the article which he thought objectionable, he only complained about it to the editor, and he only complained of its being inartistic, and not of its being immoral or blasphemous. All that he said was that he did not approve of it from the literary point of view. There was exactly the same idea in the objectionable article in the Chameleon as was contained in the letters to Lord Alfred Douglas, and the same idea was to be found in Lord Alfred Douglas's poem, "Two Loves," which was published in the Chameleon. The same idea, again, was to be found in "Dorian Grey" as was contained in the letters to Lord Alfred Douglas, and counsel read passages from the book in support of this statement. Counsel referred to the introduction of Mr. Beerbohm Tree's name into the trial, and said that he had received a cable that morning from Mr. Tree in which he gave substantially the same account of the incident of the letter as that which Mr. Wilde had given in the box on the previous day. He (Mr. Carson) desired to say that he considered that Mr. Tree's conduct in the matter had been perfectly right.

Mr. JUSTICE COLLINS.--There is not the slightest ground for making any statement whatever against Mr. Tree's action. It was in the most perfect propriety.

Mr. CARSON, proceeding, referred to the letter from Mr. Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas--which Mr. Wilde had described as a prose sonnet--and read it again to the Court. Ho said that Mr. Wilde described it as beautiful. He (counsel) called it an abominable piece of disgusting immorality.

Counsel had not concluded his speech when the Court adjourned.

THE trial of the Marquis of Queensberry for libelling Oscar Wilde, and which ended in the acquittal of the Marquis and the arrest of Wilde on a serious criminal charge, was commenced in the Old Bailey Criminal Court, London, on April 3. From an English paper to hand yesterday we make the following extracts:—

In opening the case for the prosecution, Sir Edward Clarke referred to the fact that a man named Wood had been given some clothes by Lord Alfred Douglas, and he alleged that he found in the pocket of a coat

FOUR LETTERS FROM MR. WILDE TO

LORD ALFRED DOUGLAS.

Whether he did find them there or whether he stole them is matter for speculation, but the letters were handed about, and Wood asked Mr. Wilde to buy them back. He represented himself as being in need and wanting to go to America. Mr. Wilde handed him £15 or £20, and received from him three of somewhat ordinary importance. It afterwards appeared that only the letters of no importance had been given up (Sir Edward Clarke made the remark quite innocently) and the letter of some importance had been retained. At that time "A Woman of No Importance" was in rehearsal at the Haymarket Theatre, and there came to Mr. Wilde through Mr. Beerbohm Tree a document which purported to be a copy of the retained letter. It had two headings—one Babbicombe Cliff, Torquay, and the other 16 Tite-street. Shortly afterwards a man named Allan called on Mr. Wilde, and demanded ransom for the original of the letter. Mr. Wilde peremptorily refused. He said, "I look upon the letter as a work of art. Now I have got a copy I do not desire the original. Go." Almost immediately afterwards a man named Claburn brought the original and surrendered it, saying it was sent by Mr. Wood. Mr. Wilde gave him a sovereign for his trouble. The letter was as follows:—

My Own Boy,— Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those red-roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus whom Apollo loved so madly was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do you 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.

Under examination by his counsel Wilde replied that the Marquis of Queensberry called upon him and said: "I hear you were thoroughly well blackmailed last year for a disgusting letter that you wrote to my son." Oscar replied: "The letter was a beautiful letter, and I never write except for publication."

Mr. Wilde continued: "About the end of June Lord Queensberry called upon me in the afternoon. I said to him, "I suppose you have come to apologise for the statement you made about my wife and myself in a letter you wrote to your son. Lord Queensberry said, 'If I catch you and my son together again I will thrash you.' I said, 'I do not know what the Queensberry rules are, but the Oscar Wilde rule is to shoot at sight.' I then told him to leave my house. He said he would not do so. I told him I would have him put out by the police. Mr. Wilde then went into the hall and said to his servant, 'This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Never allow him to enter my house again. Should he attempt to come in you may send for the police.'"

In cross-examination Wilde was questioned respecting the vicious tendencies of a story which had appeared in a magazine to which he was a contributor, when the following questions and answers were given:—

You have no doubt whatever that was an improper story? — From the literary point of view

IT WAS HIGHLY IMPROPER.

It is impossible for a man of literature to judge it otherwise, by literature meaning treatment, selection of subject, and the like. I thought the treatment rotten and the subject rotten. You are of opinion there is no such thing as an immoral book? — Yes.

May I take it that you think the story was not immoral? — It was worse, it was badly written. (Laughter.)

In reply to another question Wilde said: I do not believe that any book or work of art ever had any effect on morality whatever.

And the following dialogue ensued:

Am I right in saying that you do not consider the effect in creating morality or immorality? — Certainly, I do not.

So far as your work is concerned you pose as not being concerned about morality or immorality?—I do not know whether you use the word "pose" in any particular sense.

It is a favorite word of your own? — Is it? I have no pose in this matter. In writing a play, or a book, or anything, I am concerned entirely with literature, that is, with art. I aim not at doing good or evil, but in trying to make a thing that will have some quality of beauty.

Listen, sir. Here is one of the "Phrases and Philosophies for the use of the Young"; "Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the curious attractiveness of others." You think that true? — I rarely think that anything I write is true.

Did you say rarely? — I said rarely. I might have said never; not true in the actual sense of the word.

"Religions die when they are proved to be true." Is that true? — Yes, I hold that. It is a suggestion towards a philosophy of the absorption of religions by science, but it is too big a question to go into now.

Do you think that was a safe axiom to put forward for the philosophy of the young?—Most stimulating. (Laughter.)

"If one tells the truth one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out." — That is a pleasing paradox, but I do not set very high store on it as an axiom.

Is it good for the young? — Anything is good that stimulates art in whatever age.

Whether moral or immoral? — There is no such thing as morality or immorality in art. There is immoral emotion.

"Pleasure is the only thing one should live for." — I think that the realisation of one's self is the prime aim of life, and to realise one's self through pleasure is finer than to do so through pain. I am on that point entirely on the side of the ancients—the Greeks.

"A truth ceases to be true when more than one person believes it?" — Perfectly. That would be my metaphysical definition of truth; somewhat so personal that the same truth could never be appreciated by two minds.

"The condition of perfection is idleness?" — Oh, yes, I think so. Half of it is true. The life of contemplation is the highest life.

"There is something tragic about the enormous number of young men there are in England at the present moment who start life with perfect profiles, and end by adopting some useful professions." — I should think that the young have enough sense of humor.

You think that is humorous? — I think it is an amusing paradox.

In answer to other questions, he said: The views of illiterates on art are unaccountable. I am concerned only with my view of art. I don't care twopence what other people think of it.

The majority of people would come under your definition of Philistines and illiterates? — I have found wonderful exceptions.

Do you think that the majority of people live up to the position you are giving us? — I am afraid they are not cultivated enough.

Not cultivated enough to draw the distinction you have drawn between a good and a bad book? — Certainly not.

The affection and love of the artists of Dorian Grey might lead an ordinary individual to believe that it might have a certain tendency? — I have no knowledge of the views of ordinary individuals.

You did not prevent the ordinary individual from buying your book? — I have never discouraged him.

At a later stage the following letter, written by Wilde to Lord Alfred Douglas, was read:—

Savoy Hotel, Thames Embankment, W.C.

Dearest of all boys,—Your letter was delightful, red and yellow wine to me, but I am sad and out of sorts. Boysey, you must not make scenes with me. They kill me, they wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see so, so Greek and gracious, distorted with passion. I cannot listen to your young lips saying hideous things to me. I would sooner—

Here a word is indecipherable, but I will ask the witness—

than have you bitter, unjust, hating. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing I want, the thing of grace, but I don't know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury. My bill here is £40 for a week. Why is it you are not here, my dear, my wonderful boy? I fear I must have no money, no credit.—Your own OSCAR.

Is that an ordinary letter? — Everything I write is extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary. (Laughter.)

Have you got his letter in reply? — I do not recollect what letter it was.

It was not a beautiful letter? — I do not remember the letter.

You describe it as "delightful red and yellow wine to you?" — Oh, of course, a beautiful letter, certainly.

What would you pay for that beautiful letter? — I could not get a copy.

How much would you give if you could get a copy? — Oh, I do not know.

Was this one of yours a beautiful letter? — Yes; it was a tender expression of my great admiration for Lord Alfred Douglas. It was not like the other—a prose poem.

Towards the close of the case for the prosecution counsel for the defence 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' Rooms, the Café Royal, &, 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.

There are some portions of the evidence that we do not care to publish. The above gives a fair idea of the procedure and the attitude assumed by Wilde until the crash came.