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The suit of Oscar Wilde and the Marquess of Queensberry was down in to-day's list for trial at the Central Criminal Court, London, before Mr. Justice Collins and a common jury. The words of the indictment charge John Sholto Douglas with maliciously publishng a defamatory libel of and concerning Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wilde. The general public and the members of the Junior Bar were very early in attendance, and not only was all sitting room taken up but the passages of the court were so blocked by the crush that ingress and egress was a matter of great difficulty.

Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., Mr. Mathewe, and Mr. Travers Humphreys had been retained for the prosecution. Mr. Carson, Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill were counsel for the defence; a watching brief for Lord Alfred Douglas (son of the defendant) being held by Mr. Besley, Q.C., and Mr. Monckton.

Plaintiff arrived at half-past ten, accompanied by his solicitor, and took a seat in the well of the court immediately in front of Sir Edward Clarke. Immediately afterwards the jury answered to their names, but it was not until twenty minutes to eleven that silence was called for the entrance of the learned judge.

Lord Queensberry at once surrended to his bail, and was conducted to the dock. His lordship seated himself, but obediently to the attendant's request advanced to the front and stood with his arms resting upon the ledger.

The Clerk of the Court having read the indictment charging the defendant with having published a defamatory libel of the plaintiff upon a card addressed to him, Lord Queensberry replied, "Not guilty," and added the further plea. "The libel is true and was published for the public benefit.'

For the prosecution Sir Edward Clarke then opened. The libel, he said, was upon a visiting card containing the name of Lord Queensberry, and it was a matter of very serious moment; because it imputed to Mr. Oscar Wilde the gravest offence with which a man could be charged; but a far graver issue was raised by the plea that the libel was justified, and that Mr. Oscar Wilde had for a considerable period solicited certain persons (whose names were mentioned in the pleadings) to commit certain practices. The learned counsel traced the plaintiff's career at Trinity College, Dublin, and subsequently at Magdalen College, Oxford, his marriage with a daughter of the late Mr. Lloyd, Q.C., and his later literary and artistic career. He detailed plaintiff's social connection with the sons of the defendant and with Lady Queensberry, who some years ago obtained relief from her marriage owing to misconduct on the part of the Marquess. Touching next on the introduction of Mr. Wilde to Lord Queensberry by Lord Alfred Douglas at the Café Royal, Sir Edward called the attention of the jury to a personage not hitherto mentioned. This was a man who had been given the same clothes worn by Lord Alfred Douglas, and who alleged that in the pockets he discovered four letters addressed to Lord Alfred by Mr. Oscar Wilde. Whether the man had found or stolen them was a matter of speculation. This person came to Mr. Oscar Wilde, represented himself as in distress and as wanting to go to America, and plaintiff gave him £15 or £20 in order to pay his passage. He then handed to plaintiff the letters. To those letters he (Sir E. Clarke) did not attach the slightest importance. As was generally the case the important letter was retained. While Mr. Oscar Wilde's play A Woman of No Importance was in preparation what appeared to be to some extent the copy of a letter was handed to Mr. Tree, the actor, with a request to give it to Mr. Wilde. After this another individual called on the plaintiff and offered him the original, but he said, "No." He had a copy which he looked upon as a work of art, and did not want the original. Plaintiff looked upon the letter as a sort of "prose sonnet," and told the man that it would probably appear as a "sonnet poem." It did so appear in a critical magazine edited by Lord A. Douglas, and called The Spirit Lamp. The learned counsel read the letter.

The following is a copy of the letter which was published in sonnet form in the Spirit Lamp—an aesthetical and satirical magazine edited by Lord Alfred Douglas:—

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-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 grey 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.

Continuing the learned counsel said the words of the the letter did appear extraordinary to those in the habit of reading commercial correspondence—(laughter)—but it was merely an expression of poetic feeling, and had no relation whatever to the suggestion now made. On the production of the plaintiff's play, The Importance of Being Earnest, Lord Queensberry was refused admission and his money returned because he brought to the theatre a bouquet of vegetables—(laughter)—and the jury might have their doubts whether his lordship was responsible for his actions. The learned advocate dealt at some length with the suggestion made against the plaintiff because of his connection with certain literary productions, and as showing his real feeling as to improper publications he instanced the fact that plaintiff the instant he saw a production called The Priest and the Acolyte, wrote to the editor of the magazine protesting against its continued appearance. As to Mr. Wilde's Picture of Dorian Gray, it was simply idealising reality in the sense of harmony and beauty.

Sydney Wright, the porter of the Albemarle, having deposed to handing Lord Queensberry's card to Mr. Oscar Wilde,

The Plaintiff himself entered the witness-box, and assuming an easy pose with his arms resting on the rail, he answered the questions of his leader in a firm, deliberate voice. He met the man Wood, who had the letters referred to at the rooms of a tailor, and Wood said a man named Allen had stolen the letters from him, but they had been recovered by a detective. Plaintiff told him he did not consider the letters of any importance. Wood said he had been offered £60 for what witness described as "his beautiful letter to Lord Alfred Douglas." His reply was "I never received so large a sum for a prose work so short in length." That letter formed the basis of a French poem afterwards published and signed by a young French poet, a friend of his own. Passing from various interviews with Wood and another person named Tyler, plaintiff described a scene with Lord Queensberry in his library. He told defendant he supposed he had come there to apologise for the letter he had written about plaintiff and his son. Defendant replied that the letter was privileged, adding that plaintiff and Lord Alfred had been kicked out of the Savoy Hotel at a moment's notice, and that they had been blackmailed, and that plaintiff had taken rooms for defendant's son in Piccadilly. These statements were perfectly untrue. He asked defendant, "Do you seriously accuse your son and me?" Lord Queensberry answered, "I do not say that you are it, but you look it." (Slight applause in court.)

The Learned Judge: I will have the court cleared if there is the smallest repetition of disturbance.

Witness completed Lord Queensberry's answer, "I do not say that your are it, but you look it and you pose at it, which is just as bad. If I catch you in a public cafe again with my son I will thrash you." Plaintiff replied, "I don't know what the Queensberry Rules are, but the Oscar Wilde's rule is to shoot at sight." He then ordered defendant out of his house, saying to the servant, "This is the Marquess of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. Never allow him to enter my house again. If he attempts it send for the police." He was not responsible for the publication of "The Priest and the Acolyte" in the Cameleon magazine. He disapproved of it, and expressed his disapproval to the editor. There was no truth in the statements of defendant contained in the pleadings.

(Continued on Page 4.)

Mr. Carson began his cross-examination by asking plaintiff whether he was not something over 39, the age which he had given in his examination in chief. He now said he was born on the 16th October, 1854. In addition to his house in Chelsea he had rooms in St. James's Place, and Lord A. Douglas had visited them. He regarded the "Priest and the Acolyte" as violating all the artistic canons, and as being disgusting twaddle; but he had never publicly dissociated himself from the Chameleon, in which it appeared.

Was the "Priest and the Acolyte" immoral?—lt was worse—it was badly written. (Laughter.)

The learned counsel took plaintiff through a series of questions on his "Phrases and Philosophies," contributed to the Chameleon.

"Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the attractiveness of others." Do you hold that to be a safe axiom?—Witness: Most stimulating. (Laughter.)

You think anything that stimulates thought is good whether moral or immoral?—Thought is neither one nor the other, thought is intellectual.

Counsel called attention to a criticism of "Dorian Gray" in the Scots Observer, in which it was described as set in "an atmosphere of moral corruption," and asked plaintiff whether he regarded that as a suggestion that his work pointed to a certain grave offence?—Witness: Some might think so, whether reasonably or not.

Mr. Carson: Have you ever felt the feeling of "adoring madly" a man some years younger than yourself?

Plaintiff: I never gave adoration to anybody except myself. (Laughter.)

Mr. Carson: In your introduction to "Dorian Gray" you say there is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are either well or badly written?

Plaintiff: That expresses my view.

Has "Dorian Gray" a certain tendency?—Only to brutes, and only illiterates would so regard it.

Do the majority of people take up the "pose" you are giving us ?—I am afraid not. I am afraid they are not cultivated enough.

Mr. Carson: Not cultivated enough to draw a distinction between a good book and a bad book?

Witness (loftily): Oh. certainly not. (Laughter.)

Mr. Carson, quoting from a copy of "Lippincot" (a second copy having been handed to the learned judges), read the author's description of his first meeting with Dorian Gray, and asked, "Do you consider that description of the feelings of a man towards a youth just growing up as proper or improper?"

Plaintiff: I think it is the most proper description possible of what an artist would feel on meeting a beautiful personality.

May I take it that you have never felt the sensations which you there describe?—No; I borrowed from Shakespeare's Sonnets.

Mr. Carson: You have written an article pointing out that Shakespeare's Sonnets have a certain tendency?

Plaintiff: On the contrary, I wrote objecting to the shameful perversion by Hallam, the historian, aud a great many French critics.

Certain questions as to a French novel referred to in plaintiff's "Dorian Gray," were ruled out as irrelevant.

Mr. Carson returned to "Dorian Gray," and in a long passage hit upon the phrase, "Why is your friendship so fatal to young men ?"

Plaintiff: I do not think any grown person influences another grown person.

Further questioned, he said his letter to Lord A. Douglas was written from Torquay, where he was staying, and Lord Alfred was at the Savoy.

Mr. Carson: You say "your slim built soul walks between passion and poetry."

Plaintiff: It is a beautiful phrase. (Laughter.) The letter is unique. (Renewed laughter.)

Mr. Carson: Listen to this second letter of your own to Lord A. Douglas:—

"Dearest of all boys,—Your letter was delightful, and it was red and yellow wine to me, for I am sadly out of sorts. You must not make scenes with me. They kill me, they wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see you, so Greek and gracious. Distorted by passion, I cannot listen to your curved lips saying hideous things to me. Don't do it. You break my heart. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing I want, a thing of grace and genius, but I do not know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury? There are many difficulties. My bill here is £49 for the week. I have also a new sitting-room over the Thames for you. Why are you not here my dear, my wonderful boy? I fear I must leave. No money, no credit, aud a heart of lead.—Ever your own, Oscar.

Is not that an extraordinary letter?—Everything I write is extraordinary. (Laughter).

Mr. Carson: You do not pose as being ordinary?

Plaintiff (with a gesture of contempt): No.

Is that a love letter?—lt is a letter expressive of love.

Cross-examined: Wood was a young man who had held a clerkship and was in a different social position. He had been asked by Lord A. Douglas to help Wood, and supped with Wood at the Café on the night of his introduction. On one occasion he gave Wood £2, but not for an object suggested by the learned counsel. He never misconducted himself with Wood at his house in Chelsea while his (the plaintiff's) wife and children were away. When Wood brought those letters to him he thought he came to levy blackmail.

My suggestion to you is that instead of giving him £16 you gave him £30. Did you not give him £5 the following day?—Yes. (Sensation.)

Did you have a champagne farewell lunch with the man who levied blackmail?—Yes. He convinced me he had no intention, and that the letters had been stolen by other persons.

Was it then you gave him the £5?—Yes.

Why?—Because he said £15 would land him penniless at New York.

Did you not think it strange that a man with whom you had lunched in a private room should seek to levy blackmail?—Perfectly infamous.

Cross-examination resumed: He knew Wood as "Alfred," and two other men named Allen and Taylor were also known to him. Allen was known to him by reputation as a blackmailer and nothing else. He gave Allen 10s. "to show his contempt." (Laughter). After Allen came Clyburne, who also consulted him about the letters. He was also kind to Clyburne, and gave him 10s. (Laughter.) He told Clyburne he was afraid he was leading a dreadfully wicked life. Clyburne said, "There was good and bad in all of us," to which he replied, "You are a philosopher." (Laughter.)

Is the discovered letter the only one that a sonnet was written about?-I should have to go through a great deal of modern poetry before I could answer that? (Laughter.)

The case was adjourned till to-morrow.

Not for years has the Central Criminal Court been so densely crowded as it was on Wednesday morning. People begged, bullied, and bribed for admission, and the junior bar passed in on his wig and choked all the passage ways. The indictment charges John Sholto Douglas Marquis of Queensberry with writing and publishing a false and defamatory libel of and concerning Oscar Fingall O'Flaherty Wilde. This, however, will become the smallest part of the case. The defendant has undertaken to justify the libel, and, if rumour is to be trusted in the smallest degree, the plea of justification, which was delivered on the previous Saturday, involves charges of the most serious kind against Mr. Wilde.

Counsel for the plaintiff are Sir Edward Clarke, Q.C., and Mr. Charles Matthews. Lord Queensberry is represented by Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C.F. Gill, and Mr. A Gill. Mr. Besley, Q.C., with whom is Mr. Monckton, holds a watching brief for Lord Douglas of Harwick, elder son of the Marquis. The judge, Mr. Justice Collins, arrived at half-past ten.mr. C.F. Gill was the first of the counsel to arrive.

MR. WILDE ENTERED

the court, accompanied by Mr. C.F. Humphreys, his solicitor, about a quarter-past ten.He wore a dark Chesterfield coat, and silk hat, and dark tie. He did not on this occasion sport the white flower which was conspicuous in his lapel at the police court. So crowded was the court that some difficulty was experienced in finding place for a mere principal. As soon as the Judge had take his seat, defendant was called upon to surrender and entered the dock by the steps at the left-hand side of the dock. Standing there is a dark blue overcoat, short and dark, and mutton-chop whiskered, with his arms on the ledge at the front of the dock, while the clerk read to him the indictment, he pleaded "Not guilty" to the charge of libelling the plaintiff, and that the publication of the words complained was for the public benefit.

OPENING OF THE CASE.

Sir Edward Clarke at once opened the case. He first read to the jury the card which Lord Queensberry left open with the porter of the Albemarle Club for the plaintiff-containing a very grave and serious allegation against Mr. Wilde's character-and pointed out that it seemed to stop short of actually charging the plaintiff with the commission of one of the most serious of offences. By the pleas which the defendant had put before the court a much graver one was raised. Mr. Oscar Wilde was a gentleman thirty-eight years of age, the son of Sir William Wilde, a very distinguished Irish surgeon and oculist, who died some years ago. The plaintiff's mother, Lady Wilde, is still living. Mr. Oscar Wilde devoted himself to literature in its artistic side, and many years ago became a very public person indeed laughed at by some, appreciated by many, as representing a particular aspect of culture-the aesthetic cult. 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 a matter of 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 Rabbicombe Cliff, Torquay, and the other 16, Tite-street. Shortly afterwards a man named Allan called on Mr. Wikde 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 bought the original and surrendered it, saying it was sent by Mr. Wood. Mr. Wilde gave him a sovereign for his trouble. It was supposed to be

A LETTER OF INCRIMINATING CHARACTER,

and someone had taken the trouble to copy it, with mistakes, and put it about. Mr. Wilde still says that he looks upon this letter as being a kind of prose sonnet, and, on May 4, 1893, it was published in sonnet form in the Spirit Lamp, an aesthetical and satirical magazine, edited by Lord Alfred Douglas. Here is the letter:-

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 who Apollo loved so madly was 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.

When Sir Edward Clarke read this letter there was a momentary and involuntary outburst of merriment. Sir Edward said it might provoke mirth in those used only to the terms of commercial correspondence, but Mr. Wilde denied that it was open to any unclean interpretation, or was more than the letter of one poet to another. On February 14 another play of Mr. Wilde's, "The Importance of Being Earnest," was about to be produced at the St. James's Theatre. In the course of the day certain information was given to the management of certain intentions of Lord Queensberry. It is a matter of history (said Sir Edward) that when the late Laureate's play, "The Promise of May," was produced Lord Queensberry got up in the theatre, and, in

HIS CHARACTER AS AN AGNOSTIC.

took objection to the exposition which had been made of Agnostic principles in the play in the character played by Mr. Hermann Verin. It would have been still more serious to have had a scene and charges affecting Mr. Wilde's character made in the theatre. Lord Queensberry had booked a seat, but his money was returned and the police were retained at the theatre in the evening. Lord Queensberry attended, with a large bouquet made of vegetables. His intention can only be conjectured, but when he was refused admission to the theatre he left the bouquet at the box-office "for Mr. Wilde." Sir Edward could not understand how his lordship could condescend to such a pantomimic expedient, even if he had cause for attacking the character of Mr. Wilde, and whether Lord Queensberry was always and altogether responsible for his actions would be open to doubt on the part of the jury before the case ended. No notice was taken of this intended insult. He tried to get into the gallery, but the police had their instructions and he was not able to get into any part of the theatre. On February 28 Mr. Wilde went to the Albemarle Club, where the porter handed him an envelope containing a card he had received from Lord Queensberrry as long before as the 18th. This was the first publication by Lord Queensberry of the accusation he was making against Mr. Wilde, and it now incumbent on Mr. Wilde to take action in the matter. Short of actual publication Mr. Wilde would not have done anything to bring into prominence the relations between Lord Queensberry and his family, and would not now do so more than was actually necessary.

The next day Lord Queensberry was arrested. The police court proceedings are already public property.

Sidney Wright, porter, of the Albemarle Club, was the first witness. He deposed that on February 18 the defendant handed to him a card on which were written the words complained of, saying, "Give that to Oscar Wilde." Witness made a note of the day and hour at the back of the card, and placed it in an envelope, which he handed to Mr. Wilde on February 28, which was the first occasion on which he saw the prosecutor.

OSCAR WILDE'S EVIDENCE.

Mr. Oscar Wilde was himself the next witness. Ponderous and fleshy, his face a dusky red, and his hair brushed away from a middle-parting in smooth waves, he folded his hands on the front of the witness-box, and replied in carefully-modulated monosyllables, accentuated by nods of the head, to Sir Edward Clarke's leading questions. Concerning the episode of the four letters, he said the man Wood had found them in a suit of clothes which Lord Alfred Douglas had given him. "I read the letters," said Mr. Wilde" and I said, "I do not consider these letters of any importance." Wood said, "They were stolen from me by a man named Allan, and I have been employed to get them back, as they wished to extort money from you." Witness repeated that they were of no use, and Wood proceeded, "I am very much afraid as they are threatening me. I want to get away to America." "He made a very strong appeal to me to enable him to go to New York, as he could find nothing to do in London. I gave him £15." Long afterwards on April 23, 1893, Mr. Beerbohm Tree handed him the copy of the other letter which has been read, and a man named Allan afterwards called, and witness 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 of it to Mr. Beerbohm Tree I would gladly have paid a very large sum of money for the letter, as I consider it to be a work of art." He replied, "A very curious construction has been put on that letter." Witness replied, "Ah, art is rarely intelligible to the criminal classes." Allan said he had been offered £20 for it. "He was somewhat taken aback," added Oscar. "I said, 'I can only assure you on my word of honour that I will not pay one penny for that letter, so if you dislike this man very much you should sell my letter to him for £60.' He then, changing his manner, said he hadn't a single penny, was very poor, and had been many times to try and find me. I said I could not guarantee his expenses, but I would gladly give him half a sovereign. He took it and went away. I also told him; 'This letter, which is a prose poem, will shortly be published in sonnet form in a delightful magazine, and I will send you a copy.' In fact, the letter was made

THE BASIS OF A SONNET

in French, which was published in the Spirit Lamp. Allan had no sooner gone than the man Claburn came with the letter. He said, 'Allan said you were kind to him, and there is no good trying to "rent" you, as you only laugh at us.' The letter was very much soiled, and I said, 'I think it quite unpardonable that better care was not taken of a manuscript of mine.' (Laughter.) He said he was very sorry, but it had been in so many hands. I said to him, 'I am afraid you are leading a wonderfully wicked life.' He said, 'There is good and bad in every one of us.' I told him he was a born philosopher--(laughter)--and he then left."

All this Oscar told with the blandest air of sangfroid, caressing his tan gloves between his hands. Sir Edward passed on to the incidents of 1894. At the end of June, there was an interview at 16, Tito-street, with Lord Queensberry and another gentleman-- "whose name is of no importance." Lord Queensberry said, " Sit down!" Oscar replied, "I don't allow you to talk to me like that. I suppose you have come to apologize for the statements you have made about my wide and me in relation to your son. I could prosecute you any day I chose for criminal libel for writing such letters. How dare you say such things about your son and me?" Lord Queensherry replied. "You were both kicked out of the Savoy Hotel at a moment's notice for your disgusting conduct." Oscar said, "That's a lie!" Lord Queensberry continued, "You have taken and furnished rooms for him in Piccadilly." Oscar replied, "Someone has been telling you a series of lies." Lord Queensberry 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." Oscar said, "You accuse me of leading your son into vice." Lord Queensberry replied, "I don't say you are it, but you look it and you pose as it." (Laughter)

An applause tapping in the gallery followed this statement.

"If I hear the slightest repetition of that noise I will have the court cleared," said the Judge.

Mr. Wilde continued, "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 on 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."

Was it a fact that you had taken rooms in the Piccadilly for his son? - No.

Was there any foundation of any kind for the statement that you and any of his sons were expelled from the Savoy Hotel? - It is perfectly untrue.

Next Sir Edward turned to the production of "The Importance of Being Earnest," and the incident of

THE VEGETABLE BOUQUET.

He said the production was very successful, and he was afterwards called, and bowed his acknowledgments. Mr. Wilde briefly denied responsibility for the character of the Chameleon, and said he knew nothing about the story of "The Priest and the Acolyte" till he saw the magazine, and expressed his disapproval of it to tho editor. As to "Dorian Gray," the moral of that was that the man who tried to destroy his conscience destroyed himself. There was no truth whatsoever in any one of the accusations of misconduct made in the plea of justification.

CROSS-EXAMINATION

Cross-examined by Mr. Carson: You stated that your age was thirty-nine. I think you are over forty. You were born on October 16, 1854? - I had no wish to pose as being young.

That makes you more than forty? - Ah!.

In reply to further questions, the Prosecutor said: Lord Alfred Douglas is about twenty-four, and was between twenty and twenty-one years of age when I first knew him. Down to the interview in Tite-street Lord Queensberry had been friendly. I did not receive a letter on April 3 in which Lord Queensberry desired that my acquaintance with his son should cease. After the interview I had no doubt that such was Lord Queensberry's desire. Notwithstanding Lord Queensberry's protest my intimacy with Lord A. Douglas continued to the present moment.

You have stayed with him at many places? - Yes.

At Oxford, Brighton--on several occasions--Worthing? - Yes.

You never took rooms for him? - No

Were you at other places with him? - Cromer, Torquay.

And in various hotels in London? - Yes. One in Albemarle-street and in Dover-street, and at the Savoy.

Did you ever take rooms yourself in addition to your house in Tile-street? - Yes, at 10 and 11, St. James's-place. I kept the rooms from the month of October, 1893, to the end of March, 1894. Lord Douglas had stayed in those chambers, which were not far from Piccadilly. I had been abroad with him several times, and even lately to Monte Carlo. With reference to these books, it was not at Brighton in 20, King's-road that I wrote my article in the Chameleon. I observed that there were also contributions from Lord Alfred Douglas, but these were not written at Brighton. I had seen them. I thought them exceedingly beautiful poems; one was in "Praise of Shame," the other "Two Loves." One spoke of his love, boy and girl, love as true love, and other boys' love as shame. Did you see in that any improper suggestion? - None whatever.

You read "The Priest and the Acolyte"? - Yes.

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 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 Priest and the Acolyte" was not immoral? - It was worse, it was badly written. (Laughter)

Mr. Carson asked if the story was not that of a priest who fell in love with a boy who served him on the alter, and who was discovered by the Rector in the priest's room, and a scandal arose.

The Witness: I have only read it once, in last November, and nothing will induce me to read it again.

Do you think the story blasphemous? - I think it violated every artistic canon of beauty.

That is not an answer. - It is the only one I can give.

I want to see the position you pose as. - I do not think you should use that.

I have said nothing out of the way. I wish to know whether you thought the story blasphemous? - The story filled me with disgust.

Answer the question, sir, did you or did you not consider the story blasphemous? - I did not consider the story blasphemous.

You know that when the priest in the story administers poison to the boy that he uses the words of the Sacrament of the Church of England? - That I entirely forgot.

Do you consider that blasphemous? - I think it is horrible; blasphemous is not the word.

Mr. Carson read the words describing the administration of the poison in the Sacrament, and the death scene on the alter, and asked Mr. Wilde did he disapprove of them.

The Witness: I think them disgusting and perfect twaddle.

I think you will admit that anyone who would approve of such an article would pose as guilty of certain practices? - I do not think so in the person of another contributor to the magazine. It would show very bad literary taste. I strongly object to the whole stOry. I took no steps to express disapproval of the Chameleon, because I think it would have been

BENEATH MY DIGNITY

as a man of letters to associate myself with an Oxford undergraduate's productions. I am aware that the magazine might have been circulated among the undergraduates of Oxford. I do not believe that any book or work of art ever had any effect on morality whatever.

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 and immorality? - I do not know whether you use the word "pose" in any particular sense.

Is it a favourite 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 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 realization 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 profession." - I should think that the young have enough sense of humour.

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

OSCAR'S BRILLIANT REPARTEE.

This is your introduction to "Dorian Grey": There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written." - That expresses my view on art.

I take it that, no matter how immoral a book may be, if it is well written it is, in your opinion, a good book? - If it were well written, so as to produce a sense of beauty, which is the highest sense of which a human being can be capable. 1f it was badly written it would produce a sense of disgust.

Then a well-written book putting forward certain views may be a good book? - No work of art ever puts forward views. Views belong to people who are not artists.

A ---- novel might be a good book? - I don't know what you mean by a ---- novel.

Then I will suggest "Dorian Grey" as open to the interpretation of being a ---- novel. - That could be only to brutes and illiterates.

An illiterate person reading "Dorian Grey" might consider it such a novel? - The views of illiterates on art are unaccountable. I am concerned only with my view on 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.

Mr. Carson read an extract extending to several pages from Mr. Wilde's book, using the copy which appeared in Lippincott's Magazine, of the meeting of Dorian Grey and the painter, Basil Hallward. Now, I ask you, "Mr. Wilde, do you consider that that description of the feeling of one man towards a youth just grown up was

A PROPER OR IMPROPER FEELING?

I think it is the most perfect description possible of what an artist would feel on meeting a beautiful personality which was in some way necessary to his art and life.

You think that is a feeling a young man should have towards another? - Yes; as an artist.

Mr. Carson proceeded to read another long extract. Mr. Wilde asked for a copy, and was given one of the English editions. Mr. Carson, calling his attention to the place, remarked, "I believe it was left out of the purged edition?"

Witness: I do not call it purged.

Mr. Carson: Yes, I know that; but we will see.

Mr. Carson read a lengthy passage from "Dorian Grey" as originally published. Do you mean to say that that passage describes the mutual feeling of one man towards another? - It would be the influence produced on an artist by a beautiful personality.

A beautiful person? - I said a beautiful personality. You can describe it as you like. Dorian Grey was a most remarkable personality.

May I take it that you as an artist have never known the feeling described here? - I have never allowed any personality to dominate my heart.

Then you have never known the feeling you describe? - No; it is a work of fiction.

So far as you are concerned, you have no experience as to its being a natural feeling? - I think it is perfectly natural for any artist to intensely admire and love a young man. It is an incident in the life of almost every artist. But let us go over it phrase by phrase.

"I quite admit that I adored you madly." Have you ever adored a young man madly? - No, not madly. I prefer a love that is higher.

Never mind about that. Let us keep down to the love we are at now. - I have never given adoration to anybody except myself. (Loud laughter.)

I am sure you think that a very smart thing? - Not at all.

Then you have never had that feeling? - No, it was borrowed from Shakespeare, I regret to say; yes, from Shakespeare's sonnets.

"I have adored you extravagantly." - Do you mean financially?

Oh, yes, financially! Do you think we are talking about finance? - I don't know what you are talking about.

Don't you? Well, I hope I shall make myself very plain before I have done. "I was jealous of everyone to whom you spoke." Have you ever been jealous? -Never in my life.

"I want you all to myself." Did you ever have that feeling? - I should consider it an intense nuisance-an intense bore.

"I grew afraid that the world would know of my idolatry." Why should he grow afraid that the world should know it? - Because there are people in the world who cannot understand the intense devotion, affection, and admiration that an artist can feel for a wonderful and beautiful personality. These are the conditions under which we live. I regret them.

These unfortunate people that have not the high understanding that you have might put it down to be something wrong? - Undoubtedly. To any point they chose. I am not concerned with the ignorance of others.

In another passage Dorian Grey receives a book. Was the book you referred to a moral book? - Not well written.

Further pressed upon this point, and as to whether the book he had in mind was not of a certain tendency, Mr. Wilde declined, with some warmth, to be cross-examined upon the work of another artist. It was, he said, "An impertinence and vulgarity."

Mr. Carson then quoted another extract from the Lippincott version of "Dorian Grey" in which the artist tells Dorian of the scandals about him, and finally asks, "Why is your friendship so fatal to young men?"

Asked whether the passage in its ordinary meaning did not suggest a certain charge, Witness stated that it described Dorian Grey as

A MAN OF VERY CORRUPT INFLUENCE,

though there was no statement as to the nature of this influence. "Nor do I think," he added, "that there is any bad influence in the world."

A man never corrupts a youth? - I think not.

Nothing he could do would corrupt him? - If you talk of separate ages.

Mr. Carson: No, sir; I am talking common sense.

Witness: I don't think that one person influences another.

You don't think that flattering a young man, making love to him in fact, would be likely to corrupt him? - No.

Where was Lord Alfred Douglas staying when you wrote that letter to him? -At the Savoy, and I was at Torquay.

It was a letter in answer to something he had sent you? - Yes, a poem.

Was that an ordinary letter? - Certainly not.

"My own boy." Was that ordinary? - No, I have said it was not an ordinary letter.

Yes, but I wish to know in what it is extraordinary. Why should a man of your age address a boy nearly twenty years younger like that? - I was fond of hum. I have always been fond of him.

Do you adore him? - No; but I have always liked him. I think it is a beautiful letter. It is a poem. You might as well cross-examine me as to whether "King Lear" or a sonnet of Shakespeare was proper.

Apart from art, Mr. Wilde? - I cannot answer apart from art.

Suppose a man who was not an artist had written this letter, would you say it was a proper letter? - A man who was not an artist could not have written that letter. (Laughter.)

Why? - Because nobody but an artist could write it. He certainly could not write the language unless he was a man of letters.

I can suggest, for the sake of reputation, that there is nothing very wonderful in this "rose red lips of yours." - A great deal depends on the way it is read.

"Your slim-gilt soul walks between passion and poetry"; is that a beautiful phrase? - Not as you read it, Mr. Carson.

I do not profess to be an artist, and when I hear you give evidence I am glad I am not.

Sir Edward Clarke: I don't think my friend should talk like that.(To Mr. Wilde) Pray do not criticize my friend's reading again.

Mr. Carson referred to various passages in the letter, and asked: Is that not an exceptional letter? - It is unique, I should say. (Laughter.)

Was that the ordinary way in which you carried on your correspondence? - No; but I have often written to Lord Alfred Douglas. I never wrote to any other man in the same way.

Have you often written letters in the same style as this? - I don't repeat myself in style.

Here is another letter which I believe you also wrote to Lord Alfred Douglas. Will you read it? - No, I decline; I don't see why I should.

Then I will:-

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. Bosey, you must not make scenes with me. They kill me, they wreck the loveliness of life. I cannot see you, 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 £49 for a week. Why is it you are not here, my dear, wonderful boy? I fear I must have no money, no credit. - Your own OSCAR.

Is it 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.

Have 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.

Were you living at the Savoy? - Yes; I was there for about a month, and had also my house in Tite-street. Lord Alfred had been staying at the Savoy with me immediately before that.

How long had you known Wood? - I think I met him at the end of January, 1893. I met him at the Café Royal, where he was sent to find me by Lord Alfred Douglas, who telegraphed from Salisbury. Lord Alfred asked me to do what I could for Wood, who was seeking a post as a clerk. I do not know where he was living at that time. Taylor was loving at 13, Little College-street, and I have been there to tea parties on many occasions. They were

ALL MEN AT THE PARTIES,

but not all young men. I took Woods to supper at the Florence Restaurant, Rupert-street, because Lord Alfred had asked me to be kind with him.

Who was Wood? - So far as I could make out, he had no occupation, but was looking for a situation. He told me that he had a clerkship. At that time he was about twenty-three years of age.

Then do I understand that the first time you met him you took him to supper? - Yes; because I had been asked to be kind to him, otherwise it was rather a bore.

"Was Taylor or anybody else there? - No.

Wood was not moving in the society that you do? - No; certainly not. I only saw him about three times. I never asked him to my house, or to meet me at the corner or Tite-street. My wife and family were away at Torquay at that time. I swear that I did not arrange for Wood to meet me at the corner of the street, and that he never went into the house with me.

In reply to further questions, Mr. Wilde absolutely denied that he had been guilty of improper conduct towards Wood.

Had you a private room at the Florence? - Yes

How much did you give Wood then? - Two pounds.

Why? - Because Lord Alfred Douglas asked me to be kind to him. I don't care about different social positions.

When he came to you about these letters did you consider that he had come to levy blackmail? - I did, and I determined to face it.

A LITTLE LUNCH AT THE FLORENCE.

And the way you faced it was by giving him £16 to go to America? - That is an inaccurate description. I saw that the letters were of no value, and I have him the money after he told me the pitiful tale about himself.

I suggest that you gave him £30. Did you give him £5 more next day? - Yes; he told me that, after paying his passage to America, he would be left almost penniless. I have him £5.

Had you a farewell lunch at the Florence? - Yes.

A farewell lunch with the man who had tried to blackmail you? - He had convinced me that such was not his intention.

The lunch was in a private room? - Yes.

And it was after lunch that you gave him £5? - Yes.

After Woods went to America, did he ask you for money? - No.

Did Wood call Taylor by his name? - Yes.

Did Wood call you Oscar? - Yes.

And what did you call Wood? - Alfred.

Did you not think it a curious thing that a man with whom you were on such intimate terms should try to blackmail you? - I thought it infamous, but Wood convinced me that such had not been his intention, though it was the intention of other people. Wood assured me that he had recovered all of the letters.

And then Allan came with a letter, possession of which you knew he had secured improperly? - Yes.

What was Allan? - I am told he was a blackmailer.

Was he a blackmailer? - I never heard of him except as a blackmailer.

The you began to explain to the blackmailer what a loss your beautiful MS was? - I described it as a beautiful work of art.

May I ask why you gave this man, who you knew was a blackmailer, 10s? - I gave it out of contempt. (Laughter.)

Then the way you show your contempt is by paying 10s? - Yes, very often. (Laughter.)

Mr. Carson's next questions referred to Edmund Shelley, a publisher's employé.

Did you make him a present of your various works? - Yes, four or five.

Did you inscribe in one book, "To dear Edward Shelley"? - It was a joke, and nonsense. At that time he had high literary ambition.

Did you become intimate with a lad named Alphonso Conway? - Yes.

Did he sell newspapers on the pier at Worthing? - No; he enjoyed the luxury of being idle.

He was a loafer at Worthing? - He had a happy, idle nature.

But he had no money nor occupation? - No.

Was he a literary character? - Not at all. (Laughter.)

Or an artist? - No.

What age was he? -About eighteen. He went out sailing with us every day, and we became great friends. He dined with me at my house and at an hotel.

Was his conversation intellectual? - He was a pleasant, nice creature and he was useful to my children.

Did you give him sums of money, from time to time, amounting to £15? -No.

And a cigarette case and a handsome stick? - Yes. I also gave him my photo and a book.

What did you call him? - Alphonso.

Were you fond of the boy? - He was my companion for six weeks. He had no occupation or profession of any kind.

You took this boy to Brighton? - Yes, and we stayed that night at an hotel there. I have him new clothes and a hat.

In order to look more like your equal? - Oh, no; he could never do that. (Laughter.)

What did you take him to Brighton for? - Because I had promised him a treat. We returned to Worthing the next day.

At this stage the Court was adjourned.

The Central Criminal Court was again crowded to its utmost capacity on Thursday morning when the trial was resumed. The public galleries in the court would appear to have been filled with persons having privilege passes, and these it is understood consisted almost entirely of friends of Oscar Wilde or of the Marquis of Queensberry. There were no ladies or children in the court.

Mr. Wilde, again wearing a high silk hat and an ordinary black Chesterfield overcoat, entered the court at a quarter-past ten. He was soon afterwards followed by the Marquis of Queensberry, who walked into the dock and took his stand with the same air of self-composure as marked his conduct on the previous day. He was again attired in a dark blue overcoat and carried in his hand a small felt hat.

Resuming his cross-examination by Mr. Carson, Prosecutor said it was Taylor who brought about his introduction to Wood. He had frequently been to Taylor's house for afternoon tea at 13, Little College-street. Witness did not think Taylor kept any servants. The furniture did not appear luxurious, but was in good taste. He had certainly been to see him when the gas and candles were not lit. It would not be true to my that the gas and candles were always alight. He believed that once in the month of March he saw him about twelve, when there was no light. Taylor was in the habit of burning perfumes in the room. He knew that Taylor and Parker were afterwards arrested by the police. He knew Parker well, and had invited him to his house. Parker's brother came and had dinner with him the first time they met. When he met Parker it was at a dinner. Parker's brother was with him. He did not take tho one ho called Charlie with him to the Savoy Hotel that night, nor did he give him any money. He first gave him money on December 1, 1893. That was at a private dinner. Between October, 1893, and February, 1894, he had rooms at St. James's-street, though he still lived in Iite-street. He remembered Parker coming there to tea on four or five occasions. Sometimes Parker would be alone, and sometimes with Taylor. He had given him money to the extent of £3, but no impropriety had taken place.

He had never visited Park-walk at twelve o'clock at night to see Parker. He had not seen him since February, 1893, but he believed he had enlisted in the army. When Parker and Taylor were arrested they were in women's clothes and charged with felonious practices.

Mr. Carson: When you read of Taylor's arrest did it make any difference in your friendship towards him? Witness: I was greatly distressed, and wrote to him, but it had made no difference. The man Fred Atkins was in the employ of a bookmaker, Witness first met Atkins at the rooms of the gentleman whose name had been handed to the Judge. He met him at a dinner where Taylor was present. He felt friendly towards him and called him by his christian name. They went to Paris and stayed together, he (witness) paying the fare. This, however, was subsequently repaid him, but not by Atkins. No impropriety took place while there, and it would be an infamous lie for anyone to say so. They stayed together in Paris until Saturday. Continuing, Witness said he had simply taken Atkins to Paris to please his friend and not disappoint the lad. After he came back he was very ill and confined to his bed, and Atkins and the gentleman who had introduced them came to see him in his room. He would swear that Atkins was not in the room alone. He gave Atkins £3 15s. and some presents, and took tea with him twice in his rooms. That was to hear him sing, as he said he wished to go on the music hall stage.

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

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

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

Lord Queensberry

BROKE INTO A BROAD GRIN

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOUNG, BRIGHT, HAPPY, FAIR.

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

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

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

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

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

Oscar denied that after dinner he said of Charlie Parker, "This is the boy for me," or that they went together to the Savoy Hotel, or that any kind of impropriety occurred.

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

Witness knew a young man named Scarfe, but denied all impropriety. A young man named Mavor had stayed with him at an hotel, though he lived in London at the time. He was very nice and charming, and he gave him a cigarette case value £4.

Returning to the case of Sidney Mavor, Mr. Carson found that he was introduced to Oscar by a gentleman at Margaret-street. Oscar gave him a cigarette case which cost £4 11s. 6d., and invited him to stay with him at the hotel in Albemarle-street. It was simply for companionship.

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

Walter Granger, a lad of sixteen, servant in the rooms of Lord Alfred Douglas at High-street, Oxford, was the next subject of inquiry, and for the first time Oscar lost his head, and made a tactical blunder.

"Have you ever kissed this boy?" asked Mr. Carson.

Witness: No, never; certainly not. He was an extremely ugly boy.

Mr. Carson: Was that the reason why you did not kiss him? Witness: Oh, Mr. Carson, you are pertinently insolent!

Mr. Carson: Why, sir, did you mention that this boy was extremely ugly? Witness: I do not know why I mentioned that he was ugly except that I was stung by the insolent questions you put to me, and the way you have insulted me throughout this hearing.

Mr. Carson passed on to occurrences at the Savoy Hotel. Oscar had been under treatment of a masseur named Midgen at the hotel, but he denied that he had taken boys there. He absolutely denied that one of the masseurs at the Savoy Hotel had ever seen him in bed with a boy, or that any misconduct had ever taken place with a man called Scarfe.

At half-past twelve the cross-examination came to

A SOMEWHAT SUDDEN TERMINATION,

and Sir Edward Clarke rose to re-examine.

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

LEFT OXFORD IN DISGRACE,

and fallen away from his intention to enter the Civil Service or the Foreign Office, intended to take up any serious line of life, as "I decline to supply you with finds to loaf and loll. You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be cruel and wrong of me to encourage you in this. Secondly, I come to the more painful part of this letter--your infamous intimacy with this man Wilde must cease, or I will disown you and stop all supplies .... I am not going to analyze this intimacy and I make no accusations; but, to my mind, to pose as a thing is as bad as to be the real thing. With my own eyes I saw you both in the most loathsome and disgusting relationship as expressed by your manner and expression. Never in my experience have I ever seen such a sight as that in your horrible features. No wonder people are talking as they are. I hear, on good authority, that his wife is petitioning to divorce him for . . . and other crimes." I 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."

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

ROSEBERY, GLADSTONE, AND THE QUEEN.

Sir E. Clarke: The next letter from Lord Queensberry, dated July 6, was to the father of Lady Queensberry, who was divorced from him, in which he said

He had been much upset by what had happened in the last ten days, and that Lady Queensberry had been stirring his son up to defy him. She telegraphed on the subject to the defendant the previous night a very equivocating telegram, saying that the boy denied having been at the Savoy Hotel last year. He asked why sent the telegram unless the boy could deny that he was ever there with Mr. Wilde. As a matter of fact he did so, and there had been a stinking scandal. Lady Queensberry must be mad to behave so. 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-cur and coward of the Rosebery type. He was now fully convinced that the Rosebery-Gladstine-royal insult that came to him through his other son that she (Lady Queensberry) worked that. He saw Drumlanrig on the river (he was writing from Maidenhead), which rather upset me. "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 son and I."

Other letters were read to his son, in which he used very strong language about his wife.

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

WHO IS THE GENTLEMAN?

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

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

Did Mrs. Wilde see Conway? - Oh yes, constantly. She knew him quite well. I have not seen him since I was at Worthing, but I wrote him a letter in November with reference to his entering the merchant service.

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

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

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

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

Mr. Carson, again cross-examining, read the following postcard, addressed by Lord A. Douglas to Lord Queensberry:-

As you return my letters unopened I am obliged to write you 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 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 intimated that his case was closed.

Mr. Wilde then left the box, and shortly afterwards quitted the court.

THE DEFENCE.

Mr. Carson, in addressing the jury for the defence, said that Lord Queensberry withdrew nothing that he had said or written, having done everything with premeditation and a determination at all risks and hazards to try and save his son. He (Mr. Carson) was glad that his learned friend had read the letters mentioning names of distinguished persons, as it would remove any impression that might exist to their being mixed up in the matter that was now being investigated. These references were of a purely political character, arising out of the fact that the late Lord Drumlanrig, the eldest son of the Marquis, was made a member of the House of Lords while Lord Queensberry was not a member, and that he felt aggrieved that the honour should have been conferred to his son while it was not given to him. From the beginning to end Lord Queensberry had been influenced with regard to Mr. Oscar Wilde by the one hope alone of saving his son. Mr. Wilde had been going about with young men who were not his equals either in position or education. He thought it would be proved that some of these men were known as some of

THE MOST DANGEROUS CHARACTERS IN LONDON

and he specially referred to Taylor, who was the right man to assist Wilde in all these orgies with artists and valets. Had they been able to cross-examine Taylor, they would have learned what went on. Taylor was the pivot of the case, for the simple reason that when they heard the witnesses examined--and he would be unfortunately compelled to examine them on the filthy and immoral practices of Mr. Oscar Wilde--it would be found that Taylor was the man who introduced them to Wilde. When Mr. Wilde wanted to show that someone was present, he mentioned a gentleman who could not be called, because he was out of the country, but Taylor was in the country, and could have been called; they were told that the friendship of Wilde and Taylor had not been interrupted. He took up with Charlie Parker, a gentleman's servant whose brother is a gentleman's servant; with young Conway, whose brother sold papers on the pier at Worthing; and with Sacrfe, also a gentleman's servant. Then his excuse was no longer that he was dwelling in regions of art, but that he had such a noble, such a Democratic soul--(laughter)--that he drew no social distinctions, and that it was quite as much pleasure to have the sweeping boy from the streets to lunch or dine with him as the greatest litterateur or artist. He (Mr. Carson) considered the positions absolutely irreconcilable. There was in the Chameleon a poem which showed some justification for the frightful anticipations which Lord Queensberry entertained for his son. The poem was written by Lord Alfred Douglas and was seen by Mr. Wilde before its publication. Was it not a terrible thing that a young man on the threshold of life, who had been for several years dominated by Oscar Wilde, and who had been "adored and loved" by Oscar Wilde, as the two letters proved, should thus show the tendency of his mind upon this frightful subject? What would the horror of any man whose son wrote such a poem? Witnesses would be brought to describe the extraordinary den--the perfumed, ever-curtained rooms which Taylor kept in Little College-street. This was the place where Mr. Wilde made visits to meet these young men. Witnesses would be brought to prove the fearful practices of this man, Oscar Wilde. Why was a gentleman spoken of in the case as nameless? Because the man was out of the country. (Sensation.) The poem, "Two Loves," by Lord Alfred Douglas, published in the Chameleon, and spoken of by Mr. Wilde as beautiful, was not beautiful, but filthy. Mr. Carson then took up "Dorian Grey," and described the teaching in it, reading long extracts from the work. The book alone supplied enough to justify the complaint made by Lord Queensberry.

Counsel having dealt with other matters, and said he would prove the charges made up to the hilt, the Court adjourned at 4 30, the Marquis of Queensberry being allowed bail as before.

FINAL DAY OF THE TRIAL.

The trial was resumed on Friday before Mr. Justice Collins at the Old Bailey.

No sooner were the doors of the court opened than the public gallery was again besieged and quickly crowded.

When the proceedings commenced, Mr. Carson rose to resume his opening speech for the defence. He at once passed on from the consideration of the literature and the letters with which the case was connected and proceeded to what he described as a more painful part of the case-that which concerned Mr. Wilde's character. It would be, he said, his painful duty to bring forward one after another witnesses who had been mentioned to tell their tale. Mr. Carson the subjected to the most scathing criticism the explanations given by Mr. Wilde of his conduct. Servants from the Savoy Hotel and other would be called; and when the jury heard the evidence that would be given they would wonder why this man Wilde had been tolerated in London for so long. Mr. Carson next dealt with Wilde's proceedings at Worthing and elsewhere, and spoke in the most trenchant terms of the disgraceful audacity of the man.

STARTLING DEVELOPMENT.

At this point Sir Edward Clarke intervened to make a statement. Mr. Carson had, he said, referred to certain literature and letters. He said that he hoped he had said enough to convince the jury of that alone, without dealing with other issues. Lord Queensberry, in the libel complained of, had used the word "posing." Without expecting to obtain a verdict in this case, he knew and his colleagues knew that they would be going through an awful ordeal day by day. They felt that they could not resist a verdict of "Not guilty" in this case taking into consideration the word "posing." He now said that on behalf of Mr. Oscar Wilde he would ask to

WITHDRAW FROM THE PROSECUTION.

And if, at this stage of the case, that were not allowed, he was prepared to accept a verdict of "Not guilty" on the evidence brought forward in the litigation in question.

Mr. Carson, Q.C., said he did not think he had any right whatever to interfere in any way with such an application. He could only say that, as far as Lord Queensberry was concerned, if there was to be a verdict of "Not guilty" the verdict must involve that his lordship had succeeded in his plea of justification. With that understanding, he (the learned counsel) would be quite satisfied to adopt the course proposed.

His Lordship said that as the prosecutor was willing of acquiesce in a verdict of "Nor guilty" against the defendant, it was not for the Judge and jury to interfere. He could not, however, make any distinction on any particular point in the case. The verdict must be given on the words of the libel, and must simply be either "Guilty" or "Not Guilty." If he had has to sum up in the case he would have had to say that the libel was justified, and had been published for the public good. The verdict of "Not guilty" would mean that the statement was true in substance and in fact.

NOT GUILTY

After a few moments' consultation together on the part of the jury, the foreman intimated that they had arrived at their verdict.

The Clerk of the Arraigns: Do you find the plea of justification proved? - Yes.

And do you find the defendant "Not guilty"? - Yes.

And that is the verdict of you all? - Yes.

And also that it was published for the public benefit? - Yes.

The result was received with loud cheers by the crowded Court.

The Marquis of Queensberry was then formally discharged and left the dock.

LETTER TO THE PUBLIC PROSECUTOR.

On leaving the court, Mr. Charles Russell, Lord Queensberry's solicitor, addressed the following letter to the Public Prosecutor:-

37, Norfolk-street, Strand. The Hon Hamilton Caffe, Esq., Director of Prosecutions. Dear Sir,- In order that there may be a miscarriage of justice, I think it my duty at once to send you a copy of our witness's statements, together with a copy of the shorthand notes of the trial. -Yours faithfully, CHARLES RUSSELL The Treasury, Whitehall.

A WARRANT GRANTED.

It is understood that a warrant in connection with this case was applied for at five o'clock on Friday evening, and it is believed that it was granted. The application was made to Sir John Bridge in his private room. Mr. Charles Russell-son of the Lord Chief Justice--and Mr. Angus Lewis--of the treasury--were in attendance, and it is understood that the application for the warrant was made by them.

OSCAR WILDE'S MOVEMENTS.

It appears that Mr. Wilde had been somewhere in the precincts of the court during the hearing of the case. His brougham was in waiting, and he stepped rapidly into it, calling to the coachman to drive to the Viaduct Hotel. Before the carriage had stopped at the door of the hotel he thrust his arm and a gold-headed cane out of the window, and signalling to a man who stood there, apparently waiting, hoarsely cried, "The verdict, not guilty!" Afterwards Lord Alfred Douglas was also seen to go to the hotel.

There is some ground for supposing that the "prosecutor" had appointed the Viaduct Hotel as a rendezvous with his particular friends. Within half an hour of his arrival there several gentlemen arrived hurriedly and were conducted at once to the rooms which have been reserved for Mr. Wilde since Thursday. The brougham, with two smart little brown horses, was driven slowly up and down the viaduct, pausing once while the coachman received instructions from Lord Alfred Douglas, who came out bareheaded with the hall porter. These movements were closely watched in a number of interests, and it is recorded that Scotland Yard was keeping a provisional eye on the hotel.

Lord Alfred Douglas and a friend left the hotel and drove to the London and Westminster bank, St. James's-square. They were seen to enter and draw money at the counter.

THE DOUGLAS FAMILY AND OSCAR.

A representative of the Sun called at the Holborn-viaduct Hotel soon after the collapse of the suit, with the object of obtaining from Mr. Wilde his own statement as to why he had decided to withdraw the prosecution and consent to a verdict against himself. Lord Douglas of Harwick said Mr. Wilde felt quite unable at the moment to bear seeing anyone. The young lord, however, added that on Mr. Wilde's behalf he was willing to answer any questions he could. He was, he said, himself, together with his brother, Lord Alfred, under subpoena for the prosecution. He himself would have been quite willing to go into the box, and his brother was most anxious to be allowed to do so, and was exceedingly aggrieved that Mr. Wilde had prevented him. It was to prevent that - and because he felt that "no man could bear to have every little act and indiscretion of his life, and every word and thought produced against him they perverted in the basest way and placed in their worst possible light," that Mr. Wilde had resolved to retire from the prosecution.

"You may say from me myself," went on Lord Douglas of Harwick, "that I, and every member of our family, excepting my father, disbelieve absolutely and entirely the allegations of the defence. It is, in my opinion, simply a part of the persecution which my father has carried out ever since I can remember. I think Mr. Wilde and his counsel are to blame for not showing, as they could have done, what was the fact."

His Lordship cited several alleged circumstances in support of his statement, and concluded by asserting with considerable emotion that scandal after scandal had been heaped upon them till he felt utterly unable to hold up his head.

Then, in answer to a question, Lord Douglas added that with Mr. Wilde's full authority he could state that Mr. Wilde had no thoughts of immediately leaving London, and would stay to face whatever might be the result of the proceedings.

OSCAR WILDE'S EXPLANATION.

Oscar Wilde has written the following letter to the Evening News:-

It would have been impossible for me to have proved my case without putting Lord Alfred Douglas in the witness-box against his father. Lord Alfred Douglas was extremely anxious to go into the box, but I would not let him do so. Rather than put him in so painful a position I determined to retire from the case, and to bear on my own shoulders whatever ignominy and shame might result from my prosecuting Lord Queensberry. OSCAR WILDE

WHO IS "B?"

"B" has been referred to throughout this hideous trial, but the Judge, counsel, and all concerned have allowed B's name to be suppressed. Who is "B."? "B." stands for Bertie; and Bertie is--who? Why this scandalous suppression of a name in connection with a trial in which, it is alleged, criminal proceedings are to be instituted against the prosecutor? We repeat, who is "B"? And why was his name suppressed?

ARREST OF OSCAR WILDE.

Oscar Wilde was arrested shortly after seven o'clock on Friday evening, and taken to Scotland Yard. There he was formally charged with the commission of unnatural offences with the lad Wood and others. He was charged at Bow-street Police Court yesterday morning, and a report of the proceedings appear in another column.