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London, April 3.

All the appearances of a sensational trial was presented at the Old Bailey to-day, when the Marquis of Queensberry entered the dock to answer the charge of criminally libelling Mr. Oscar Wilde. Although influential people and the ordinary public clamoured at the doors for admission soon after eight o'clock in the morning, it was only the privileged few who gained entry within the judicial precincts. Necessarily, from the peculiar nature of the case, the proceedings were expected to be of a character such as to preclude the admission to court of any but the sterner sex. The Marquis was the first to appear, and was soon followed by Mr. Oscar Wilde, who took a seat at the solicitors' table. By the time Mr. Justice Collins took his seat on the bench the court was crammed, and the counsel engaged were busy with their blue papers. Sir E. Clarke, Q.C., Mr. C. Mathews, and Mr. Travers Humphreys appeared to prosecute; while Mr. Carson, Q.C., Mr. C. F. Gill, and Mr. A. Gill (instructed by Mr. Charles Russell) represented the Marquis of Queensberry; Mr. Besley, Q. C., with Mr. Monckton, watching the proceedings on behalf of Lord Douglas of Hawick, the eldest son of the Marquis.

The Clerk read out the indictment to the effect that the Marquis "did unlawfully and maliciously write and publish a false, malicious, and defamatory libel" concerning Mr. O. Wilde, in the form of a card directed to him.

The Marquis said he pleaded not guilty, and that the libel was true, and that it was for the public benefit that it should be published.

Sir E. Clarke, in opening the case for the prosecution, said the card was a visiting card of the Marquis of Queensberry, and had written upon it, "To Oscar Wilde, posing as --" (an expression which we are unable to print). Of course it was a matter of serious moment that a word as that should in any way be connected with the name of a gentleman who had borne a high reputation in this country. It was an accusation of the gravest of all offences. The accusation of posing no doubt appeared to suggest that there was no guilt of the actual offence, but that in some way or another the person of whom these words were written desired to appear to be a person guilty of that gravest of all offences. He pointed out that there was no allegation in the pleadings that Mr. Oscar Wilde had been guilty of the offence of which he (counsel) had spoken; but there was a series of accusations, and the names of many persons were mentioned. It was said with regard to these that Mr. Wilde had solicited them to commit with him a grave offence, and that he had been guilty with each and all of them of improper practices. He thought it would occur to the jury as somewhat, strange that whereas these pleadings and the statements which were contained in them referred to a very considerable period of time, one would gather from the pleadings that during all that time Mr. Wilde had been unsuccessfully soliciting these persons. If they were called upon to sustain the charges, these persons would necessarily have to admit much in cross-examination; but he supposed they would not be prepared to admit that they were guilty of the grossest of all offences. Of course,it was for those who had undertaken the grave responsibility of putting in the pleadings of these allegations to satisfy the jury if they could, by witnesses whose evidence they would deem worthy of consideration and entitled to belief, that these charges were true. Counsel next proceeded to refer to the circumstances under which Mr. Wilde became acquainted with Lord A. Douglas in 1891, and pointed out that from that time to the present Mr. Wilde had been the friend not only of Lord Alfred Douglas, but of his brother and mother, Lady Queensberry, who was the wife of the defendant, but who some years ago obtained release from the marriage tie in consequence of the defendent's conduct. It was not until 1894 that Mr. Wilde became aware that certain statements had been made affecting his character, and he became aware of it in this way: There was a man named Wood, whom he had seen once or twice, and who had been given some clothes by Lord A. Douglas. This man said he had found in the pocket of the coat that was given to him four letters which had been written by Mr. Wilde to Lord A. Douglas. Whether Wood had found them in the pocket of the coat or whether he had stolen them was a matter upon which he (counsel) at this moment could only speculate. At all events, there were some letters of Mr. Wilde's which were being handed about, and Wood came to Mr. Wilde early in the year 1894, and told, him that he had these letters, and asked Mr. Wilde to give him something for them. Wood represented himself as being in some distress, and as wanting to go to America. Mr. Wilde gave him £15 or £20 in order to pay his passage to America. Wood handed Mr. Wilde the letters which had been written by him to Lord A. Douglas, but he(counsel) did not think any importance attached to these letters, because, as was generally the case where people thought that they had got letters which were of some importance, those which were of no importance were given up, and the letter which was supposed to be of importance was retained. That was the case in this instance. On Feb. 28 Mr. Wilde called at the Albemarle Club, and was then handed the card, the subject of the libel alleged, contained in an envelope, and in the result a warrant was granted, upon which the Marquis of Queensbury was arrested on Mar. 2. Referring to the plea of justification, it contained references to a certain magazine, and Mr. Wilde was said to be responsible for an article appearing in it of a disgraceful and unworthy character. As a matter of fact, however, Mr. Wilde was not responsible for the article at all. He insisted, as soon as he saw that article, his name appearing on the title-page of the magazine that it should be withdrawn from publication. He had no knowledge that the article had been written or that it was going to appear in the magazine until he saw it in print, and he then expressed his opinion that the literature was bad and unworthy to be published.

Evidence having been given to prove the publication Of the alleged libel by Sidney Wright, the porter of the Albemarle Club, to whom the card was given, Mr. Oscar Wilde was next called, and in his evidence he said that he made the acquaintance of Lord Alfred Douglas in 1891. He was also on friendly terms with Lord Alfred Douglas's brother. Since 1891 he had been in the habit of dining with Lord Alfred Douglas at the Albermarle Club, and had stayed with him at various places. In November, 1892, he met the Marquis of Queensberry at the Café Royal, whilst in the company of Lord Alfred Douglas, and they had luncheon together. He did not see the Marquis again for some time. The witness spoke to a man named Wood calling upon him and producing a certain letter, which he had sent to Lord Alfred Douglas. This man said that the letters had been stolen from him. The witness did not regard the letters as of any importance. He gave the man £15 to get to America. He next had a call from a man named Allen, to whom he said: "I suppose you have come about my beautiful letter to Lord Alfred Douglas. If you had not been so foolish as to send a copy of it to Mr. Beerbohm Tree I would gladly have paid you a very large sum of money for the letter, as I consider it to be a work of art." The man said: "It is a very curious construction to put on that letter." He added that a man had offered him £60 for it. The witness said: "If you would take my advice you would go to that man and sell my letter for £60. I have never received so large a sum for any prose work of that length." Other conversation followed, and the man said that he had not a single penny, and was very poor, and witness gave him 10s. He told the man that the letter was a prose poem, which would shortly be published in a dramatic magazine, and he would send him a copy. That letter was the basis of a poem published in French in the "Spirit Lamp" magazine. The Marquis called on him about Lord Alfred Douglas, and witness, referring to a letter, said: "I could have you up at any time for a criminal libel." The Marquis said: "The letter is a privileged one, as it was written to my son." He added: "You were both kicked out of the Savoy Hotel at a moment's notice for your disgusting conduct." He made other statements, and he ordered the Marquis out of his house, saying to his servant: "This is the Marquis of Queensberry, the most infamous brute in London. You are never to allow him to enter my house again, and if he should attempt to come in you must send for the police." There was no truth in the suggestion that he was turned out of the Savoy Hotel. He had nothing whatever to do with the magazine called the Chameleon beyond contributing to it.

Cross-examined by Mr. Carson, Q.C.: He was 40 years of age next birthday; Lord Alfred Douglas was 24 years Of age. Before the interview in Tite-street, between himself and the Marquis, he had hot received a letter from the Marquis protesting against his association with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas. He was aware that the Marquis had made such a protest, but, notwithstanding, he had kept the acquaintance up till the present time, and had stayed with Lord Alfred Douglas at various places, including hotels in London. He had been abroad with him, and recently they were at Monte Carlo. He was of opinion that there was no such thing as an immoral book. Mr. Carson: Do you think the phrase, under the title of "Phrases of Philosophy for the Young," a proper one: "Wickedness is a myth invented by good people to account for the peculiar attractiveness of others"? - I rather think everything I write is true in effect, but not true in the sense of an actual fact in life. So far from the phrases being improper, he thought they were most stimulating. (Laughter.)

Is "Dorian Gray" open to the interpretation of being a disgusting book? - Only to brutes and the illiterate. You cannot ask about the interpretation of my work; it does not concern me. What concerns me is my view and my feeling. I do not care "tuppence" what Philistines think about it.

Mr. Carson read the description of the artist's feelings on first meeting "Dorian Gray" and in reply to a question, Mr. Wilde said: I think this is the most perfect description possible of what an artist would feel on meeting a beautiful personality. You mean a beautiful person? - Yes; a beautiful young man if you like.

Having read another passage, Mr. Carson asked: Do you mean to say that that describes the natural feeling of one man towards another? - It describes the influence produced on an artist by a beautiful personality.

The letter you wrote to Lord Alfred Douglas, was it an ordinary letter? - No. "My own boy"; was that not ordinary? - No. You would say, I suppose, that for a man of your age to address a youth of half your years as "My own boy" would be an improper thing? - No, certainly not; not if he was fond of him. I was fond of Lord Alfred. Mr. Carson quoted--"And it was marvellous that those red, roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for music and song than for the madness of kissing." Was that proper? - My dear sir, you are cross-examining me upon a poem. You might as well ask me if King Lear or Shakspere's sonnets are improper.

I will read you another letter--

"Savoy Hotel. "Dearest of all Boys, -- Your letter was delightful red and yellow wine to me, and 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 you, so Greek and gracious, distorted by passion. I cannot listen to your curved lips saying hideous things to me. Don't do it It breaks my heart. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing I want of grace and genius. But I don't know how to do it. There are many difficulties. My bill here is £49 for the week. My dear, my wonderful boy, I fear I must leave. No money, no credit, and a heart of lead.--From your own OSCAR."

Was that an extraordinary letter? - I think everything I write is extraordinary. I do not pose as being ordinary. Ask me anything you like.

In further cross-examination Mr. Wilde admitted having asked an office boy engaged at his publishers, Messrs. Matthews and Lane, to dine with him at the Albermarle Hotel. The boy had whisky and soda. "He had what he liked," said Mr. Wilde.

Witness was asked as to his acquaintance with two other young men.

The hearing was then adjourned until tomorrow, Lord Queensberry being allowed out on bail.

When the direct mail left London on 5th April, the Wilde v. Queensberry case had come to the curious and abrupt termination of which our cable messages have informed us. From the copious reports of the libel action in the London papers we extract the following account of Wilde's cross-examination by Mr. Carson, counsel for the Marquis of Queensberry:—

You stated that your age is 39. I think you are over 40?—Is that so? I do not think so. Forty on my next birthday. You have my birth certificate, and that settles the matter.

You were born on 16th October, 1854?—Oh! I have no wish to pose as being young.

That makes you more than 40?—Ah!

You are of opinion that there is no such thing as an immoral book?—Yes.

Am I right in saying 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 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 is 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 thought, in whatever age.

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

"Pleasure is the only thing one should live for."—I think that the realisation of oneself is the prime aim of life, and to realise oneself 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; something 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.

"Do you call "Dorian Gray" an objectionable book?—Only to brutes and the illiterates. To Philistines it might seem immoral; to the incalculably stupid it might appear to be anything. The view of the Philistine troubles me not. The ordinary iudividual does not appeal to me; I have no knowledge of him. What appeals to me is my work, my art.

You do not think the majority of people live up to the views you are giving us, Mr Wilde?—I am afraid they are not cultivated enough. (Laughter.)

Have you ever madly adored a man 20 years younger than yourself?—I have never given adoration to anybody except myself. (Laughter.) Adoration is a thing I reserve for myself. I have never adored anyone else. I do not adore a person; I either love him or not. The idea is borrowed from Shakespeare's sonnets.

You do not think flattering a young man and making love to him likely to corrupt him?—No; I do not think it possible.

Mr. Carson next referred to the following letter which had been sent by Wilde to 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. 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 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.

You begin, "My own boy." Do you not consider than an improper way to address a boy 20 years younger than yourself?—No; I was fond of the boy, and always have been.

You go on in your letter to say, "Your sonnet is quite lovely; it is marvellous. Those red rose-leaf lips of yours should be made no less for music or song than for madness of kissing." Do you consider that proper language?—I think it is a beautiful letter.

I see you conclude this letter, "Always with undying love, yours, Oscar" Is not that exceptional?—I should call it a unique letter. (Laughter.)

Is that a specimen of your ordinary correspondence with Lord Alfred Douglas?—I have written him most beautiful letters, though I don't think I have called others "my own boy." He is the greatest friend I have.

Do you write to other persons in the same style?—Oh, no.

You have written many letters of this sort?—I do not repeat myself in style. (Laughter).

Here is another letter to Lord Alfred Douglas. Is that a poem? Will you read it?

Mr. Wilde—No, you read it; I decline.

Mr. Carson then read the letter, as follows:—

"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 you, so Greek and gracious, distorted by passion. I cannot listen to your young curved lips saying hideous things to me. I would sooner"- here a word is undecipherable, but I will ask the witness—"than have you bitter, unjust, hating. You break my heart. I must see you soon. You are the divine thing I want, the thing of grace and genius, but I don't know how to do it. Shall I come to Salisbury? My bill here is £49 for a week. (Laughter.) I have also a new sitting-room over the Thames. Why is it you are not here, my dear, my wonderful boy? I fear almost to live—no money, no credit, and a heart of lead. Ever your own, OSCAR."

Don't you call that an extraordinary 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.

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.

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

The following message sent on a postcard by Lord Alfred Douglas to his father, which was read in court during the case, throws light on the relations existing between the pair:— "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, &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."